D. N. Angel Fan Fiction ❯ Oh, Dear. ❯ Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

 

Disclaimer: I don't own DN Angel. Whatever made you think I did?

 

A/N: Thanks for the support guys, it's really appreciated since this is something that I just didn't really think out and therefore made up on the spot. I have a lot of homework and exam mocks are coming up, so I'll probably not post up for a good long while. But thanks for the support anyways, enjoy this new chapter!

 

Dark slowly staggered to his feet, partly leaning on Daisuke for support and partly gripping the chair. He slowly regained balance and looked around, thoughts whirling through his mind. Oh my God. Oh my God. Giant reptile. Blond guy fighting. Daisuke fighting. Oh my God… He turned to Daisuke and squealed like a fangirl, causing the younger male to wince slightly. “Oh my God, do you know what you guys have done for me? Thank you so much, my boss is going to adore this story! You guys are the best, thank you so much!” Dark continued in this fashion, not giving the other man a chance to reply or react. “I'll put your names in there, I promise! This is going to be the biggest scoop since that scandal about Erin Mayata sleeping with the governor's daughter! Oh my God!” The overjoyed journalist hugged Daisuke, ignoring the stares of the crowd and the muffled noises coming from the redhead.

 

Daisuke gave up trying to get Dark's attention by talking to him and so used the only other viable option: He hit him. The darker one pulled back, rubbing his cheek in puzzlement. Then he pouted. “Ne, Dai-chan, what was that for?” The redhead gawked at him, disbelieving.

 

“Don't tell me you didn't get the message?” he groaned. The journalist shook his head and Daisuke sighed. “Look, we'll talk about this later. I have to go see if Krad's okay.” Dark caught the redhead's arm and gave him the puppy eyes look that even Satoshi was unable to resist.

 

“Can I come along? Please?” Daisuke pondered this for a while and then slowly nodded.

 

“I guess,” he replied. “Just don't mention anything about the press around Krad; he's a little jumpy about it.” Dark nodded, although he had a feeling that valuable information for his article would be gleaned. Without another word, the two headed out into the bright sunlight and fought their way through the crowd of reporters. Dark was sorely tempted to clutch Daisuke's arm and tell all of them possessively, “Mine.” At this point, he didn't think about the other connotations of that word or the way he said it. Much to everyone's fortune, he did nothing of the sort and the trip to the hospital was fairly uneventful.

 

Daisuke walked into the hospital calmly, the serene expression on his face never wavering. He was slightly worried for Krad, but something inside him told him that the blond would be perfectly fine. Besides, Krad had gone through worse-they both had-and they were still around to tell the tale. Turning to Dark, the redhead noted that he was much more subdued now and there was none of the energy that he had seen before. It was as though entering the hospital changed him into a different person. A sense of pity welled up within Daisuke and for some unknown reason, he gently laid a hand on Dark's arm. The journalist turned to look at him sharply and pulled his arm away, crossing both limbs. Hurt, Daisuke continued to the reception desk.

 

“Excuse me, do you know where Krad Hikari is staying? He was brought in just recently.” The redhead smiled at the nurse, hoping that she would tell him the room number on the spot without any of the customary, `Are you a relative' type questions. To his relief, she told him that his friend was in Room 42 and seemed to be quite grumpy. Well, Daisuke thought, if he can be grumpy, it means he's all right.

 

Room 42:

 

Krad toyed with a crease in the bedcovers, wondering when he would be allowed out of the hospital. He hated the sterile, white place with its impersonal aura and antiseptic smells. He wanted to be in the city, smelling the smog and petrol that vehicles emitted everyday. As the door slowly opened, Krad's head immediately swiveled towards it. He sincerely hoped that it wasn't a doctor, for both his sake and theirs; he was feeling a little…snappy. He shifted into a more comfortable position on the bed and grinned sardonically at Daisuke and Dark. “I'm fine,” he drawled before either of the two could say anything. “As for you, Dark, did you get your scoop?” Daisuke frowned at Krad and a silent look passed between them, again excluding Dark. Daisuke moved over to Krad's right wrist and gently turned it over, inspecting the pale flesh for any injuries. There was no hint of any injury and Dark stifled a gasp. He settled for a look of awe, but the two Guardians looked at him as though he'd shouted. Finally, Krad snapped, “Goggled enough?” Dark flushed but glared back defiantly. Amethyst and gold clashed until finally Dark snorted and looked away. “Jackass,” he muttered quietly.

 

Daisuke sighed and turned to Krad, hoping that he hadn't heard the other man. To his dismay, the senior was smirking; an expression that generally heralded the Apocalypse for an unhappy someone. To his growing horror, the blond turned to him and smiled just as evilly. Daisuke swallowed hard and fidgeted with the covers, praying that nothing…inappropriate would be said. He could hear a nurse outside, tending to the patient next door. Suddenly, Krad yelled and his eyes went comically wide. “Daisuke!” Krad bellowed loud enough for the whole corridor to hear, “You know I won't mind your being in love with Dark! I've always been behind you, buddy, why would I back out just because my friend is gay?” Both men choked and launched themselves at the madly cackling senior.

 

“You…you total rat!” Daisuke choked out before burying his face in his hands. “What gave you that idea?”

 

Dark was a little less restrained. “You…” he finished the sentence with several choice expletives, but this only served to make Krad laugh even harder. Of course, being the smart mouth that he was, Dark soon thought of a better comeback when it was obvious that Krad didn't regret anything. “Why of course…” he murmured thoughtfully. Both men eyed him warily, Daisuke peeking out from between his fingers and Krad staring at him like he'd finally lost all his marbles. “Krad,” he said slyly, voice dripping with honey. Daisuke squeaked and scrambled for the bed sheets, trying to hide himself under the nearest thing. Only about two hours with the journalist and he could already tell some of the danger signals, Daisuke reflected ruefully. “Krad, I didn't realise you were jealous!” A squawk came from somewhere beneath the bed, but Dark ignored it. “You don't have to be mean about it, you know. You could even join us; I'm sure that when it comes to this, the more the merrier!” At the scandalized look on the two Guardians' faces, he burst out laughing.

 

Daisuke shut his eyes and prayed fervently for a blessing. It seemed that Krad and Dark were prepared to go to war verbally and he knew that the results that that particular course of action yielded. Grabbing Dark's arm, he hastily yanked the reporter out of the hospital. It was obvious that Krad was not going to talk about the case until he had trampled over Dark several times in the proverbial mud. The redhead finally managed to haul the darker one out into the corridors of the hospital and just as suddenly noticed the change in Dark. When he'd been sparring with Krad, the light that usually shone in his eyes was back again. Now he wore the same look as he'd had when they had first entered the hospital and Daisuke wondered just what was on the man's mind. Perhaps…? No, it couldn't be. He shook his head to clear it of such ridiculous thoughts and Dark laughed hollowly as though he knew just why Daisuke was shaking his head. “I'm not in love with him, you know.” Daisuke started; how had Dark guessed? The purple-haired journalist continued, eyes fixed on some invisible point. “It's just that…I think it's a mutual thing.”

 

“The insults and swearing?”

 

“Yeah.” Dark silently turned to the doorway and began to walk, not wanting to dwell too much on the previous event with Krad. At least the guy was okay, which mean that he would get his Pulitzer prize-winning piece. That would certainly shove the stick that much further up his boss' ass. Speaking of which…

 

“What did you want to tell me in the café?”

 

Daisuke started. “Huh?”

 

“You heard me.” Daisuke nodded.

 

“Yeah. What I wanted to tell you was that the office where you're working is seriously messed up. Have you noticed any strange accidents happening lately?”

 

Dark immediately remembered the most striking one and quickly ran to the receptionist, dragging Daisuke along with him. “Sorry,” he apologized to the redhead, `It's just that I've got to see this one person before closing hours.” He immediately asked the receptionist if she knew which room Satoshi Hiwatari was in, and received an immediate answer. Hurrying to the room in which his colleague was in, Dark barged in, face wreathed in smiles. “Satoshi, my man! How are you doing?”

 

Satoshi flapped a hand at him, waving the question away. “Ah, shut it. You aren't beating yourself up for that thing, right?” Daisuke's ears immediately perked up. What thing?

 

Dark shook his head, dark purple locks flying around his head. “Course not. If I felt remorse for your pain, I'd have to be a girl.” Satoshi glared.

 

“What's that implying?” he asked, voice light.

 

“Oh…nothing,” Dark airily shot back. “By the way, this,” he gestured at Daisuke, “is Daisuke Niwa.” Satoshi's lips quirked upwards slightly as he nodded at the redhead.

 

“Nice to meet you.”

 

Daisuke nodded. “The pleasure's all mine…Satoshi, right?” The blue-haired man nodded. Dark had by this time seated himself on the bed and was looking at Satoshi closely.

 

“You're all right, then?” Satoshi nodded.

 

“As well as can be expected. The doctors think it was just a freak attack.” Nothing more was needed to be said. Of course, what was so clear to both journalists was a mystery to Daisuke.

 

“What are you talking about?” As well as natural interest, Daisuke had a feeling that this accident was somehow linked to Dark and therefore the Sharak. Dark immediately explained the sudden events at the newspaper office where he worked and the redhead nodded, now completely serious. Satoshi sighed; he knew exactly what Daisuke was from the moment he had set foot in the room. Although he didn't have the power himself, he still knew that it existed courtesy of his mother, who'd told him stories of such things. At first he'd scoffed at them, but when he'd been fooling around with some friends, they'd decided to play with a crystal ball. The thing had been hilarious at first; it was one of those talking machines that spat out random answers. However, it had gone misty all over as 1:30am approached and at that time precisely, all the power had sputtered out and died. A monstrous being had emerged from the crystal ball and proceeded to kill the drunken teenagers one by one. However, the killing spree had been left unfinished due a woman somehow entering the house and blasting the creature with a wave of light. Satoshi had been the only survivor of the attack, although now he was missing half his internal organs (and according to many, missing many of his brain cells).

 

“Just something that happened at the office,” Dark said quickly. It was clear that he didn't want to talk about anything too personal at the moment. Satoshi, on the other hand, knew better. He could tell that something was up and whispered to Dark to let Daisuke know everything. The journalist wrinkled his nose in distaste but started anyway. “Well, you see, I had a bit of a run-in with the boss that day I helped you carry your shopping bags and all, because I was late for work. Thanks for the extra food, by the way,” he added mildly. Satoshi rolled his eyes, knowing Dark's penchant for the random. “So I went up to his office and, ya know, the usual thing happened; he chewed my head off, I yelled back at him, he insulted me a bit and all that. Next thing I know, he's asking me about you and that alleyway incident-don't wince, makes you look guilty,” he added to Daisuke, who had involuntarily flinched, “and next thing you know, he's mutated into the evil demon from hell or whatever. You know-drippy features, red glowing eyes, hoarse voice and stinky breath…the whole shebang. So I just stand there like a stunned idiot and wait for him to eat me. Naturally, he doesn't. He just hisses something out about wanting you, Daisuke dearest, and…oh God, don't tell me you're about to faint or something...” Dark paused to examine Daisuke closely. “You sure?” The redhead nodded impatiently and wished for the fourth time that Dark would get on with the story. “Eesh, no need to look so angry.” The journalist flapped a hand at Daisuke, earning himself another roll of the eyes from Satoshi. “…and turns back to normal again. He then asks me if I've been drinking too much, I swear at him and the next thing you know, I need three top stories by the end of the month or else I'll be shortly joining the masses of the unemployed.”

 

“Yeah,” Daisuke interrupted, “but that doesn't explain why Satoshi's in the hospital.”

 

“Wait, I'm coming to that part,” Dark groaned. “So the next day I do my best not to step on the boss' toesies, of course. I toe the line, I'm on my best behaviour. Right after lunch, everyone who helps me starts to get injuries. At first it looks perfectly normal; you know, staples in their fingers, sprained ankles cause they tripped on the photocopier…yeah. Then of course, when my good friend here (he gestured at Satoshi lying in bed) gives me some really good leads and starts coughing up blood. So he's carted off to hospital, and that's why we're here today, Daisuke darling.” The redhead blushed at the journalist's address of him and Satoshi grinned, knowing how overwhelming Dark could be at times. `

 

Daisuke finally managed to regain his grip on himself and spoke quietly, so as to avoid being overheard by anyone. “Um…you know when you were asking me all those questions and stuff…was that related?” Dark snorted.

 

“Of course not! I hadn't even talked to my boss then, remember? And I know he didn't influence my thoughts by telepathy or whatever. Anyhow, what are you driving at?” This caught Daisuke by surprise, although he hid it well.

 

“Um…I'll tell you at my place. Sorry Satoshi, but we have to go. We can't risk anyone overhearing us.” Daisuke looked apologetically at the blue-haired man, hoping that he didn't feel left out. The other merely smiled and waved a hand, silently telling them that it was all right. Nodding gratefully, the redhead left, towing Dark after him.

 

At Daisuke's:

 

Dark stepped into the house, whistling lightly. “Nice pad,” he commented. Daisuke merely shrugged, hoping that neither of the twins were home. It would be hard to explain why he was suddenly inviting an unknown person into the house without checking if it was all right with everyone first.

 

“It's home,” Daisuke replied. He wasn't quite sure how to take the compliment. Dark grinned at him and for a fleeting moment, Daisuke felt as though he'd known this man for years even though their entire relationship had been built over two days. The journalist looked around, eyes wide. It was rare that he ever got to see a tidy house, because he rarely had time to clean up and because all of his friends were of a similar disposition. Satoshi's had been the only clean place before this, but his house had been clean to the point of sterile, which was what had daunted Dark. This place…though…this place was tidy without being sterile and had a lived-in look and feel about it, which was exactly what Dark looked for in a home. A line of photos caught his eye and the man sauntered over to look at them, curious as to who would feature in them. Generally they were group photos, mainly featuring Daisuke, Krad and two girls. Twins, Dark thought. It was plain to see. He carefully examined their features, trying to figure out which one was older. Then he grinned as the puzzle was easily solved.

 

Meanwhile, Daisuke merely observed Dark as the journalist went through his house. Judging from what the man had said earlier, he did not have a clue as to what was going on and therefore could not be any servant of a Sharak's. Besides, there was something about him that made Daisuke want to believe that he wasn't bound by or to anyone. “Found anything?” he asked amusedly. Dark whipped around and grinned.

 

“Oh yeah,” he laughed. Daisuke laughed quietly along with him. Although he didn't know what was so amusing, Dark's humour was just…infectious. “I found out that you live in this house with two twins, the short-haired one's the elder and Krad stays with you. However, you don't go out with either of them, although you did have a crush on the younger one once.” Stunned silence followed this announcement and Dark looked a little worried. “Hey, Dai, I didn't bring back any bad memories or anything, right?” Daisuke stared at Dark, wondering.

 

“H-how did you figure that out?”

 

“Well, I guessed that Krad must be your roommate because if there were two girls, there would be two boys to even out the balance. That photo,“ Dark pointed, “-was taken in a room which is in this house, but it is not yours because the style doesn't suit you, and it can't be either of the twins' because that poster (here Dark nodded at the small dot in the photo) would definitely never hang on a girl's wall. Since you and Krad obviously seem to be pretty friendly with each other, it means that you are close friends. And who better to share an apartment with, than with your best friend? Finally, I figured that you once had a crush on the younger twin-the long-haired one-because in the photo where you seem to all be a few years younger, you are blushing whilst standing next to her. In the other ones, you aren't.”

 

Daisuke gawked. “So…how did you guess that the Riku-the short-haired one-is the elder?”

 

Dark chuckled. “Instinct, and because she has something about her eyes that say she's the elder twin.”

 

Daisuke stared again. Dark grinned and explained further. “When you're me, you meet all sorts of people. You need to be able to spot things about them that tell you whether they're really good or not, especially physical objects. Sometimes, instinct isn't enough. `Sides, it's a handy ability because we constantly receive prank calls.” Daisuke blinked again, processing the new information about Dark. “It's not that hard, really,” the purple-haired man protested. “It's just…observation and inference. That's all. My parents were really big on observation and inference. Anyhow, enough about my childhood. So, what big secret did you want to tell me?”

 

Finally, Daisuke thought. “Dark…do you believe in dreams?”

 

“What?”

 

“Do you believe in dreams?” Daisuke repeated. Dark stared.

 

“What, you mean as in what happens in dreams, or just dreams as in the noun?”

 

“Just…dreams.”

 

“Well, I believe that they exist because I've had quite a few…” Dark let his sentence trail off, although the sarcasm was evident. Daisuke shook his head.

 

“Perhaps I should re-phrase that question. Do you believe that dreams hold messages?”

 

Dark studied Daisuke silently. “Depends. I'm more of the `now-and-again' type of person.” He laughed quietly and Daisuke smiled slightly. The Guardian was used to the reaction; it was a way for Dark to relieve the tension.

 

“All right then, do you believe in the supernatural, you know, like magic and monsters and things?” Daisuke waited for Dark's answer, hoping that the man would answer yes. It was an often childish dream, Daisuke knew, but he wanted Dark to believe in magic badly. The practical reason was that it would make his explanations much easier, and the not-so-practical reason was that Daisuke didn't want the man to laugh at him. It was never pleasant, being mocked; but this time Daisuke felt that it would hurt more. It wasn't as though the journalist was special, but he supposed that it was because the man had been kind to him even without knowing who he was.

 

Dark looked at Daisuke as though he had gone mad. “When I was five, yeah,” the journalist replied. “Not now, though. Never pegged you to be the type of person who was a hippie.”

 

Oh. Now that was just plain mean. It was perfectly all right to call him crazy because he'd been called that enough times for it not to matter, but calling him a hippie was just downright nasty. “Well,” Daisuke replied, trying to laugh the matter off. “Never mind then. You can go now, if you want.” He turned to go to his room, but stopped when he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders. He turned around to look straight into Dark's piercing eyes and Daisuke felt himself drowning once more.

 

“I'm pretty sure you didn't drag me all the way here just to chat about dreams and magic,” Dark whispered in a low, almost-hypnotic voice. “Better tell me now, `cause I'm dying to know here.” Daisuke suddenly felt the power within him stir, angry that its host was being roughly handled. Gritting his teeth, the redhead tried control the slowly opening gates to his power, but his efforts were futile. One moment, he was standing there half-dazed by the impulsive journalist and the next he was staggering backwards, the man having been thrown back a good metre or so.

 

“Argh…” Dark staggered to his feet, wincing and wobbling precariously. “Daisuke, if you wanted to kill me, you could have just pulled a knife!”

 

“I'm sorry, Dark!” Daisuke ran over to the older one, supporting him. “Do you need to lie down, or anything?” He supported the taller one, half-carrying him to the couch.

 

“Ow, what was that for? Are you some kinda psychic or what? Cause I'll have you know that I don't believe in them, I never did.” Daisuke recoiled slightly, wondering if Dark was angry at him.

 

“Ah…I'm sorry,” he apologized again, looking down at his fidgety fingers. He prayed that the man would give him another chance, because he was the only one who'd actually shown a little unconditional kindness in this godforsaken city and because he was certainly a very good-looking—Oh no, Daisuke growled at himself. Don't even think about going there. He'd fallen in love with someone only once (not including his crush on Risa) and that one time, his love had turned out to be a double agent. With his own hands, Daisuke had lifted the sword that was at the centre of their battle and killed her. Krad had arrived shortly afterwards to find Daisuke sitting on the floor amidst all the blood and gore, half-crying and half-laughing.

 

“Hey, I'm not angry you know. Just a little shaken.” Daisuke shifted slightly and purple eyes slid into his view. They were filled with something like…understanding? “Calm down. Are you especially jittery or something?” A hand reached out and Daisuke leaned towards it slowly, giving Dark ample time to pull away if he so wished. The journalist didn't pull away, just keeping his hand where it was and letting Daisuke make the decision of whether he wanted the contact or not. It's almost like those old pictures where you have the pretty princess reaching out to the timid little forest creature, Dark reflected before looking at Daisuke again and then shaking his head. No, he thought again, not a frightened animal. One that knows perfectly well what you're going to do, but doesn't know whether to accept you or not.

 

Daisuke wanted so badly to lean into the touch and just let himself trust the journalist for a brief moment, but he still didn't know whether Dark was truly on his side, or whether he was just comforting him because he'd laughed at Daisuke's `notion'. “Come on,” he heard a soft voice. It was gentle, coaxing. Daisuke forced himself to pull away, although he could feel the warmth coming from the older one's hand. He opened his eyes and shook his head apologetically afterwards. The silent apology did nothing to soothe the hurt in Dark's eyes, though, and the redhead felt bad for placing the look there.

 

“So…continue. I won't laugh or anything, and none of this will go into the papers. Except maybe for that snake incident.” Daisuke smiled weakly at the joke and continued, the words coming out of his mouth automatically.

 

“There are two types of people-Guardians and just…normal people. There used to be more Guardians, especially during the Middle Ages, but there aren't as many around. The difference is that Guardians can do things that normal people can't. It's commonly called magick and there are different levels of Guardian, according to the amount of magick that you possess.”

 

“So,” Dark interrupted, “let me guess. You and Krad are just two of them. And you're a dying species. And you need help because you're dying out and because there's some evil, apocalyptic thing threatening the world.”

 

Daisuke sighed. “No. That's where you go wrong. We're not a dying species-did I say that we were going extinct?” When Dark shook his head sheepishly, Daisuke nodded his sharply. “Exactly. I merely meant that there were fewer of us now than there were a millennia ago. The Apocalypse isn't destined to happen for at least another four millennia unless we're really unlucky…but there are some nasty things out there in this world that no one knows about. But you're right about one thing; we do need help.”

 

Dark leaned back in the chair, looking at the redhead. “So what are you telling me this for? You need my help for this or something?”

 

Daisuke nodded. “Yeah. You see, there's something out there called a Sharak. It's akin to the embodiment of chaos, and apparently one's chosen to reside right here in Azumano, and Krad and I think that it's decided to hide in the newspaper office.” Dark burst out into a loud laugh.

 

“What? Why? Why infiltrate some little newspaper office and not a government department, say the CIA? Why Azumano, which is out in the middle of nowhere? Now that's just hilarious. Does he have a taste for pretty journalists or something?”

 

Daisuke's eyes were serious and somber. “Because the media is the right arm of anarchy. Haven't you ever heard that phrase before?”

 

Dark giggled helplessly, unable to stop himself from doing so. “So who is he, then? My boss?” Daisuke nodded sagely.

 

“Possibly.”

 

Dark grinned. “Well, at least it would account for my seeing weird things and unnatural crap going on in the office. Any more to tell me, like the fact that the Blair Witch is actually real? Or maybe that zombies roam the earth in search of human flesh?”

 

The redhead sighed. “I told you, Dark, you're better off going home then. If you don't believe this, I can understand your feelings. I know I sound like I've gone completely nuts, but believe me, it's real. In fact, you should probably believe me even more so because you've seen examples of the things that appear out of nowhere for no reason at all.”

 

Dark stopped laughing abruptly and his expression grew serious. Daisuke shuddered as he saw what lay beneath the easy-going surface of the gregarious journalist. “Ah, yeah, I remember that. I'm not totally discrediting your remarks or anything, it's just that I'm looking for something to hold onto. Really, I mean, it's just that everything's just so…confusing and all. Just continue, I'll be fine.” The purple-haired man waved his hand.

 

Daisuke smiled slightly at the gesture. “Well, first of all, I think you'll be quite relieved to know that the Blair Witch died a few centuries back and a Guardian named Tiathan finished her soul off. Secondly, zombies do not eat human flesh; they prefer the soul and that they cannot be killed by anything; merely delayed.” Dark winced. “In any case, that's completely irrelevant. What me and Krad really want here is for you to keep an eye on things in the office. Sharak cannot generally reside amongst humans without causing some effect on events around them.”

 

Dark nodded silently and then snickered, throwing his head back and bursting into laughter. “God,” he laughed. “I'm so totally insane. I'm listening to a university student telling me that magick really exists, that there are insane creatures trying to take over the world and that one is in my office. What a laugh!” He continued to laugh until the tears streamed down his cheeks and he bordered on hysteria. Daisuke could only watch silently and as he watched, a phrase came into his mind: I laugh as the tears course silently down my face. He knew that Dark would have to face the facts on his own, and that convincing him only helped a little.

 

Argh, that was exhausting. Thanks for your reviews and more would be appreciated as well as constructive criticism. Thank you for the support and remember, reviews mean a happier author and (hopefully) a better story! See you at the review boards then!