D. N. Angel Fan Fiction ❯ Oh, Dear. ❯ Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

 

Disclaimer: DN Angel is NOT my property.

 

A/N: I've been tied up with writer's block and a huge exam lately, so I haven't been bothered to update at all. I'll try and make this one nice. Since no one's tried to give me the answer to Daisuke's little voice's being called `Iago', I guess I'll tell all. It's the name of the little voice of doubt which drives Othello (Shakespeare) to kill his wife for cheating on him when she was actually completely innocent. Enjoy this chapter, then!

 

Dr. Henry Melas eyed the strange looking pair from the corner of the room. He didn't know what was going on, but the battle he'd just witnessed was not something he'd expected to see. Certainly not with the flashing lights and everything else; he was a man of science, someone who believed that magic and flashing lights were things made from a child's dream, nothing more. Glancing towards the patient, he noticed that the man was now awake and crying into the arms of a redhead, who was trying to soothe him. Around him, his colleagues shifted uneasily, not wanting the responsibility of breaking the trancelike state they had all entered since the entrance of the young lady and a blonde man. Looking around, the doctor pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly. Approaching the couple, he placed a hand on the redhead's shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said softly, “Would it be all right for us to try and fix Mr. Mousy up?” The redhead looked up at him sheepishly.

 

“Ah…sure,” he answered cheerfully. He looked down at his distraught companion. “Come on Dark,” he murmured. “Gotta get you fixed up.” The journalist only clutched the shirt more tightly, balling the cloth up in his hands. Daisuke looked up at the doctor helplessly. “Hold on. And don't look,” he warned the other man as he tapped into his powers.

 

Henry glared but decided not to press the issue. He didn't want to agitate the patient any more and shouting certainly wouldn't help his case. So instead, he nodded and shut his eyes, wondering just what was going to happen. A flash of red light seared past his eyelids and faded away just as quickly. He cracked one eye open cautiously and saw that everything was all right. His eyebrows shot up into his thick graying fringe as he noticed that the patient's wounds were all gone. Judging from the stunned looks on his team's face, they too were surprised. “All right guys,” he managed to say calmly. “Let's get `em out of here.”

 

Daisuke was grateful to the doctor for not asking questions, despite his concern for the purple-haired journalist. He stood up and grimaced at the state of his shirt when he realized that he was almost soaked in blood. Better go and get changed now, he thought to himself. Before Risa or Riku start asking funny questions. He looked around the corridor, ignoring the slightly confused looks he was getting from the other visitors. A quick glance at the sky told him that he had better be leaving. After all, he couldn't leave Krad to dine alone with the two girls. The poor guy would be miserable.

 

Satoshi:

 

Satoshi frowned lightly as he heard the voices outside his door. He thought he recognized the doctor, but he wasn't sure. He slipped out of the bed and moved towards the door, making sure to keep his footsteps quiet. He could have done without the slippers and certainly without the breeze at his back (it was making his hospital gown flap) but there was no way on earth he would dare step on the floors barefooted and he most certainly would not take off the gown. He reached the door and listened carefully. “…crazy,” the man was saying to someone else, presumably his companion.

“How he survived is beyond me, and did you see that red light? I swear…” The voices died out as the two men walked away and Satoshi growled slightly in frustration. The door suddenly swung open and before he could react, the journalist found himself sitting on the floor. He cursed to himself and set about trying to explain his actions to the not-so-kind looking lady in front of him.

 

Dark:

 

99…100…101…102…103…104…arg h! Dark growled to himself in frustration and boredom. Counting the number of tiles on the left wall only kept one occupied for so long. He moved his arm out of the cold as a gust of wind blew in through the window. He sighed and shifted restlessly underneath the sheets as he thought about Daisuke again. I hate it when people feel the need to pay you back for something you did for them. Even if it was just buying lunch and chatting. The journalist scowled more deeply when he realized how ironic it was that they kept running into each other even though it was clear that neither had the desire to see the other. Running a hand through his hair, the journalist glared at the wall, determined to burn a hole through it or worse. Just as he was about to roll over, a burning, acrid smell reached his nose. All too familiar with the scent after his first few days learning to cook at university, the man looked around for the source of the smell. To his shock, there was a small flame dancing on the wall, where he'd been glaring. Without bothering to think, Dark hastily snatched one of the spare blankets off the night-table and flapped at the flame, trying to smother it. Just my day, he growled to himself. To his dismay, the flame grew larger and larger as he frantically beat at it. Out! He snarled, not sure why he was talking to a fire, of all things. Go out and leave me in peace! Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the flame died out and Dark collapsed on the bed, relieved. He looked at the sheet in his hands, trying to discern the areas where it had been burned. Surprisingly, there were no marks on the sheet. Frowning, Dark decided to go talk to Daisuke again. This time, not even a herd of those blasted dogs would stop him from seeing the redhead. With this comforting resolution made up in his mind, he sank down onto the bed and let sleep claim him.

 

Daisuke and Krad:

 

Daisuke was shooting him `that look' again. Krad could feel it every time he moved his chopsticks from his bowl to his mouth. It was the `I-have-something-very-important-to-tell-you' look, the one Daisuke had given him when they had still been in training and he had a pressing issue on his mind. The Guardian continued to eat calmly, disregarding the looks he was getting from Risa and Riku. Neither girl had asked what he'd been doing when he'd returned from the hospital covered in blood and gore, but he knew that they were dying to ask. The golden-eyed senior chanced a look up from his plate and upon seeing three pairs of eyes all focussed on him, he immediately glared. “What are you staring at?” he growled before shoveling more food into his bowl. Risa rolled her eyes, Riku glared and Daisuke snorted, a most un-Niwa-like thing to do. Krad continued eating.

 

Both friends were sprawled out on the couch, staring blankly at the horror movie playing. As a girl was decapitated, Krad drawled, “Care to share the rest of your day with me, Dai?” The petite Guardian turned to look at him.

 

“There's not much else to tell.”

 

Krad sighed, leaning heavily on the other man. “Yeah right. And my mother still loves me.” Daisuke sighed with difficulty, as he was close to being crushed by the other's weight.

 

“Krad, get off me.”

 

“No.”

 

A pause. “Why?”

 

“Because you're not telling me anything. You shoot me the `Urgent' look at the dinner table but when we finally sit down to talk things out, you clam up. Just what is going on between you and that journalist, anyway?” Daisuke glared at his oldest friend, a hint of dark blue flashing through his crimson irises.

 

“Lay off, Krad.” The blonde backed off, knowing that Daisuke was dangerously close to losing control.

 

“Hey,” the other Guardian put his hands up in an `I surrender' gesture. “Chill.”

 

Daisuke promptly exploded. “Chill? You expect me to chill when there are Sharak running loose around this town? You expect me to chill when innocent lives are in danger? You expect me to chill when we have no bloody clue as to what's going on in this place?” Krad waited tersely, ready to run should the occasion arise. “I'll tell you what's wrong!” Daisuke fairly shouted. “THERE IS NOTHING WRONG! THAT'S WHAT'S WRONG! ALL YOU'RE DOING IS AGGRAVATING ME AND SITTING AROUND LOOKING PRETTY INSTEAD OF WORKING!” Krad growled and leaned forward, ignoring all the danger signals. He might have been fairly relaxed about some things, but he did not like being told he did nothing when he'd been practically living in the vagaries of Azumano and looking for leads.

 

“Listen, you little—“ he began hotly, when the argument was interrupted by Risa's presence.

 

“Hey guys, can you keep it down please?” she asked. “I'm trying to study for an exam tomorrow.” Both men turned to her and apologized before returning to glaring at the TV. Or more accurately, one was glaring. The other was staring at the seat, playing with a loose thread.

 

“Thanks,” Risa sarcastically said as she returned to her room. The pair sat in angry silence for another two hours, neither willing to talk to the other. When the film ended, both stood up. They silently made their way to their respective rooms, each steadfastly ignoring the other.

 

Daisuke flopped onto his bed, not bothering to change into his usual sleepwear. Ruby eyes stared up at the ceiling, glazed over as the student fell into memories long forgotten. Father, he thought wistfully. I wish you were here to help me. He and his father had shared a bond, despite the older one's frequent business trips. Kosuke Niwa had been the one to teach Daisuke about his duty as a Guardian and the one to send him to the Temple to learn. The redhead allowed a small smile to stretch his lips as he wrapped himself in a happy dream and slowly drifted off, anger forgotten.

 

Krad simmered in his room. Although he had been the one to ask for trouble-he'd continued to prod Daisuke even though he'd known the consequences-he still felt irritated at the way Daisuke trivialized all his work. The only thing he's done is talk to Dark and angst over him, the blond irritably thought. He threw himself into the bed, uncaring of the squeak of protest that the springs gave. Without warning, the entire construction collapsed with Krad on top of it. The Guardian growled angrily, eyes glowing with power and fury. “Son of a b*tch…” he growled as he waved a finger and the bed was restored. He fell into an uneasy sleep, fighting enemies even in his dreams.

 

3am, Dark's house:

 

The phone rang, its shrill tone echoing through the still flat. It continued to ring until a hand snaked its way out from beneath the sheets and crashed down onto the irritating device. “H-hullo?” Dark mumbled down the phone, still groggy. The sound of heavy breathing greeted him again.

 

“You again, huh bastard?” Dark growled down the phone. “Look, I'm not in the mood to—“

 

“Gotcha.” The speaker's voice held a sort of sadistic, menacing glee in it. “I'm coming, Darkie, just you wait…” There was a click and once again the journalist was left staring at the phone. This is getting too weird for words, the journalist thought to himself. I have to find out who did this. A glance at the clock made him groan; it was 3am and there would be no point in going back to sleep again as it took him about an hour to fall asleep and he had to wake up at 6 anyway. A chill swept up his spine and on impulse, Dark hit the Caller ID review button to see his mysterious caller's number. He desperately scrolled through all the calls he'd ever had recorded on the phone, but to his shock, neither number nor caller was registered. It was as though there had never been a caller at three am. What the…?

 

It was a groggy, grumpy journalist who greeted the new day. Amethyst eyes rimmed with red stared blearily at the coffee machine, hands moving slowly. The machine gave out a harsh, grating noise and then stopped, much to the gratitude of Dark. Staggering to the dining table, he managed to collapse into a chair before his knees gave way, all the while clutching his mug of hot, strong espresso. He sipped the liquid gratefully, feeling his nerves and senses come alive with the caffeine shot. His phone rang again and Dark repressed a shriek. He stared at the phone, the memory of the unpleasant call still fresh in his mind. The device continued ringing, Dark sitting there, afraid of what he might hear on the other end. It soon stopped and the journalist could only assume that the caller had met the answering machine.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Dark walked out of the house, whistling all the while. Today was Takeshi's day off, which meant that there would be no free ride for him in Sally the Colt. The purple-haired man hurried through the streets, not wanting to be alone after his phone call. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and the man turned around, only to be met with nothingness. Frowning slightly, he turned to continue but the prickling persisted. Wait a minute…Dark's brow furrowed even deeper and he listened carefully whilst walking. Was that…was that the sound of a second pair of footsteps? He abruptly stopped and nearly screamed when the footsteps continued. Breaking into a run, he sprinted for the office in the distance. As he moved swiftly through the maze of streets, he thought deliriously, I'm being attacked. At 6:30am.

 

Satoshi:

 

He turned in bed restlessly, his body clock not allowing him to return to the world of dreams. Years of sleeping for three to four hours every night had made him the next closest thing to an insomniac and as a result, he either took sleeping pills five nights out of seven or he just read until he fell asleep. Since sleeping pills were not readily available in the vicinity, he contented himself with re-reading the novel his colleague had brought over from his house. Just as he had reached his favourite passage, he heard footsteps and whispering outside the door again. True to the Mongoose's Code, he gently placed the book on his lap and listened intently. “…this better be the right place. I'll kill you if it isn't.” The blue-eyed journalist sighed and slipped silently out of bed, preparing for a fight. He didn't like physical fights as a general rule, but if things got dirty it was preferable that he could defend himself properly. However, the footsteps died away as the pair went down the corridor and Satoshi raised an eyebrow. It was probably just another intern, he told himself. I've got a vivid imagination. He then returned to the relative comfort of the bed and continued reading.

 

Daisuke:

 

The shrill sound of his alarm clock cut through the stillness of the room. Daisuke groaned and turned on his side to try and avoid the beeping device, but his efforts were to no avail. He sighed in irritation and a hand poked out of the blanket, flailing wildly before slamming down onto the Snooze button. The ringing stopped and the redheaded Guardian sighed in relief before turning around and returning to the Land of Dreams.

 

Krad:

 

Still in a somewhat agitated state, the blonde man rolled out of bed and landed heavily on the floor, uncaring of his condition. He sat on the floor for a while, waiting for his body to start functioning properly before attempting to haul himself into the bathroom. A glance at the clock showed him that both he and Daisuke were going to be incredibly late if they did not hurry up. Hastily splashing himself with cold water from the sink, he snatched a shirt and a pair of slacks and dashed down the corridor to Daisuke's room. Banging on the door, he yelled, “Daisuke, we're going to be LATE!” A crash and a few muffled curses from inside the room greeted his ears and Krad knew that he would have to help his counterpart if either of them wanted to get to class on time. Swiftly twisting the handle (and nearly yanking the door off its hinges in the process), he proceeded to shove Daisuke's head under the icy tap as a wake-up call, stuff him into some clothes snagged from the ground and drag him out the door. Ignoring the protests, moans, groans and sometimes shrieks that the other man emitted, of course.

 

Krad crashed through the doors of Azumano University, only to be greeted by empty corridors. He groaned at the thought of having to face his hot-tempered, impatient teacher and explain to her for the third time why he was late. Usually he wasn't; it was just that this week had been rather hectic, what with his little trip to the hospital and the whole mess with Dark. Blasted journalist, he thought irritably. Throwing Daisuke into one of the classrooms and startling the teacher, the senior headed off towards his own room.

 

Daisuke:

 

Suppressing a yawn, the freshman stared at his notes, his eyes slowly drooping as he fought to stay awake. He'd overslept again and it was only thanks to Krad that he'd managed to get to class relatively early (any later and he would have been marked as tardy). Who on earth gets up at 6:30am to get ready for school, anyway? He grumpily thought. The usually cheerful man was a lot darker today and as a result was scaring all the students in the immediate vicinity. Even Akutsu, a prankster who delighted in irritating him, was keeping his distance. Daisuke scowled at another of his classmates who dared to approach him, his foul mood only accentuated by his somewhat disheveled appearance. It wouldn't kill them to stay away from me for a day, would it? He made his way to Chemistry, shuffling through the notes in his oversized binder as he did so. As he entered the classroom, he froze in shock as he remembered that they were having a test on organic chemistry, the one aspect in which he most certainly did not excel. The teacher sat casually on the desk, counting the number of test papers. He looked up and smiled cheerfully at the poor freshman, greeting him as well and inquiring after his health. After forcing himself to reply somewhat politely, Daisuke sat down and flipped through the binder, desperately trying to cram for the test. All too soon, the bell rang and with a reluctant groan, Daisuke and the rest of the class put their books away and waited for the teacher to hand out the papers.

 

An hour later:

 

Daisuke was close to bursting into tears. He could only answer one page out of ten and even that one, he wasn't sure of. Giving up, he rested his forehead against the cool desk and sighed. His eyelids drooped and before he knew it, he was out for the count. Meanwhile, the teacher raised an eyebrow at Daisuke's slouched form and walked over, gently shaking him. “It's still exam conditions,” he told the sleepy freshman cheerfully before moving on.

 

The exam soon came to an end and the redhead was overcome by a sense of foreboding as he handed his test paper in. The bell rang and the class filed out, all of them chattering about the test and the supposed answers. Not to his surprise, Daisuke found that most of his answers were wrong. Today just isn't going my way, he thought miserably. Much to his relief, the rest of the day passed as normal and he had even managed to shake off what Krad and Riku called, `the post-exam blues'. He exited the building just in time to catch a glimpse of a familiar purple-haired figure standing just outside the gates. What on Earth is he doing here? Daisuke thought incredulously. Apparently, Krad must have thought the same thing, for he ran towards the figure, shouting as he went.

 

Dark:

 

After managing to lose his pursuer down an alleyway, the journalist circled back to the office, where he was duly shouted at for being late. After finding and writing two articles which, he felt, were sure to make headlines, he handed the work in for inspection. To his immense delight, the man grudgingly nodded and passed the articles back, telling him to hand them in to the editor and letting him go and find other stories for the evening paper. Worried about the morning's incident, Dark decided to stay in open, sunlit areas where there would be plenty of people. So far, his plan had worked and there was no sign of his stalker. Unfortunately (and Dark often cursed himself bitterly for this), he was now determined to get to the heart of the business and as a result was lurking around the university campus, hoping to pry something out from Daisuke. Way to go, he scolded himself, you shout at him and pretty much tell him that you'd be happy never to see him again, and then you show up at the school. Real smooth, Dark. I bet he's thinking you're some creepy stalker guy now. When he heard Krad shout his name, he made a face but continued running, suddenly thinking about just how harebrained his plan was. The journalist made his way down the streets, not even glancing back until someone grabbed his shoulder. Seized by a sudden, fleeting panic, he thought that his unknown was chasing him, but the irrational fear was soon quelled when he caught sight of a blond ponytail and sharp golden eyes. Giving the blond a sheepish grin, he stopped.

 

Krad:

 

That guy had better have a good excuse for being around here, Krad thought furiously as he sprinted after the purple-haired man. He finally caught up and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him around. For an instant, he detected a mindless panic behind those sharp amethysts, but it soon disappeared and the other could only offer up a sheepish grin in response to his glare. He heard Daisuke catch up and stop, panting, but he paid his partner no heed. Then Dark opened his mouth. “Hehe…would you believe me if I told you I was—“

 

“No.” Krad cut the older one off sharply and used his height to intimidate him further. Just then, Daisuke placed a gentle hand on his arm.

 

“Krad, it's okay, I'm sure Dark has a decent explanation.” Krad narrowed his eyes and then swung the full force of his glare at the journalist.

 

“You have thirty seconds. Starting from now.” Dark hastily began to explain, ending with a question.

 

“So…got any clues as to who calls someone up at ungodly hours just to listen to them panting?” Dark tried to disperse some of the tension, but the joke fell miserably flat on its face. Krad glared and released him, although Dark could tell that he would have gladly strangulated him had it not been for his little tidbit of information. However, Daisuke interrupted with another question.

 

“How did you get so smashed up?” The redhead had a nasty suspicion at the back of his mind, but he wanted to hear everything from Dark's own lips.

 

Dark raised an eyebrow. “Not telling `til you give me my answer.”

 

Daisuke huffed in frustration, blowing some of the unruly bangs out of his face. “No.”

 

The pair glared at each other, neither willing to back down. Finally, Dark gave up. “Fine,” he remarked, “I'll just go sort the mess out myself, shall I? I wanted to ask you guys a question and maybe put your names in the papers and all, but I guess that's not happening. Well, toodles.” With a jaunty wave, he turned his back towards the pair, unaware of the blush on Daisuke's face.

 

Krad looked from Daisuke to Dark and back again. He was surprised to see the hint of a blush on the younger one's cheeks and hid a smirk. Oh-ho, so that's why you've got a bee in your bonnet, he thought. Just as Dark turned to leave, he decided to prolong their anguish. “Wait a moment,” he called. The man turned around, eyes cool. “We'll answer your questions-but on the basis of a question for a question. Agreed?”

 

Dark raised an eyebrow. “So…for every question I ask, you get to ask one of me?” Krad nodded, ignoring Daisuke's painful elbow. “…Fine.” The blond Guardian allowed himself a triumphant smile, wincing as Daisuke hand firmly attached itself to his braid and yanked.

 

“What was that for?” He asked, rounding on the smaller one. Daisuke glared.

 

“You idiot!” He gritted out. Krad rolled his eyes.

 

“You know,” he mildly observed, “Hatred is the first step to true love.”

 

“What's that supposed to mean?” Dark demanded. Krad waggled a finger in his face.

 

“Ah-ah-ah,” he laughed, “A question for a question. Daisuke was scolding me and I took the opportunity to…help your relationship along.” Silence. Krad swept on, all the breeding that his family had ingrained into him now showing itself. “So, Dark Mousy, how did you get so smashed up?”

 

A sullen silence. Then, “Can we not talk about this here?” Krad raised an eyebrow.

 

“Well…if you insist. So where do you want to go?”

 

“My place,” Dark replied without missing a beat. Krad was impressed in spite of himself; it was clear that Dark knew how to turn the tables quickly.

 

“All right,” Daisuke replied shortly. “Let's go.”

 

The journey was made in silence and there was a palpable tension in the air. Krad could tell that Daisuke's mood was rather sour at the moment and it was clear that Dark wasn't exactly happy either. “Look,” Krad finally said, “I'd much rather not have you glaring daggers at each other, if that's all right. It's not pleasant talking to someone who hates your longtime best friend, you know.” Dark rolled his eyes whilst Daisuke muttered under his breath. Krad cupped a hand around his ear and leaned down towards the shortest of them all. “Eh, what's that? He asked. “I can't hear you.” In return for his pains, Krad received a dirty look that held promises of everlasting pain should he push the issue, so he hastily decided to leave things to cool down for a while.

 

Upon their arrival at the apartment block, Dark glared at both Guardians as though daring them to comment on the state of the area. Indeed, there was graffiti scrawled all over the walls, the paint on the ceiling and on the banisters was peeling off and there were very evident signs of other, smaller life forms on the stairwells. A musty odour permeated the air and Daisuke wrinkled his nose. Dark sneered and then stepped into the lift, which was dark and looked like it had not been cleaned for decades. “Welcome to the dark side of life,” Dark humorlessly laughed, a harsh, grating sound that scraped on the nerves and startled Daisuke.

 

“I thought—“ he stammered out. Dark rounded on him.

 

“You thought what? You thought I could afford better? Yes, well, we can't all be born rich you know.” His eyes were cold and lifeless, almost like the time in the hospital. Krad did not say anything, merely placing a hand on Daisuke's shoulder. The bell chimed and the lift stopped, its doors wheezing as they opened. They proceeded down the corridor, Krad trying not to brush against the grimy walls. Finally, they stopped at Flat A. Surprisingly, the door was well polished and was about the only thing in the whole building that looked clean enough to touch. Dark pulled out a set of keys from his pocket and fitted the appropriate one into the lock. Just as he was about to get the door open, a scream echoed through the corridor and a loud crash followed. Krad noticed Dark's wince and the slight hunch in his shoulders as he flung the door open and walked quickly inside.

 

Daisuke was surprised, to say the least. The house was small and untidy, with papers flying all over the place, but there was a certain charm about it that put him at ease straight away. The white curtains were clean and crisp, and the floor was well-polished. From what he could see of the kitchen, it was also tidy and there was a corridor, leading off to the bedrooms and bathroom, he knew. From the look on Krad's face, he could tell that the blond Guardian was also surprised. “Nice house,” Daisuke commented. Dark nodded and walked out again.

 

“I'll be right back,” he gruffly said. “Make yourselves at home.” The door banged shut after him.

 

“OI! SHUT UP, WILL YOU?” Both students blinked at the sheer volume to which Dark's voice was raised. There was a muffled reply, followed by a scream. Then Dark's voice started up again. “I MEAN IT!” A loud curse, followed by the sound of a door opening and shutting, then loud, angry footsteps. Krad calmly turned around and opened the door an inch, allowing both to see through the gap. They saw Dark, facing off with a red-faced, balding man.

 

“WHAT BUSINESS IS IT OF YOURS WHAT I DO?” The man roared.

 

“IT'S MY BUSINESS BECAUSE YOU'RE DISTURBING ME AND THE REST OF THE BUILDING TOO! NOW STOP BEATING YOUR WIFE AND GO PASS OUT-OR WHATEVER IT IS THAT YOU DO WHEN YOU'RE NOT HIGH!” Dark roared back, equally angry.

 

“GOT A PROBLEM WITH THAT, PRETTY BOY?”

 

“YEAH, I DO! SHUT UP AND STOP HURTING HER!”

 

The man sneered offensively and stepped towards the lanky journalist, pop-eyed with fury. When he was a mere inch away from the taller one's face, he said, “You've been screwing with her, haven't you?” Dark sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

 

“You're making a ruckus, Rufus,” he commented. “Shut up. And for your information, no, I haven't been. I've been a good little boy.” Turning sharply on his heel, he returned to his apartment. Barely glancing up at the two Guardians, he shut the door, locked it and continued into the kitchen. “What would you like?” he asked loudly. “Tea? Coffee? Water? Juice?” Both Krad and Daisuke looked at each other and asked for tea, neither sure what to think anymore.

 

Dark seated himself on a chair, moving a stack of papers out of the way. “Now, about the dog…” He narrated the entire incident, conveniently omitting the fact that he had used something hot to drive the creature away. When he finished, both Krad and Daisuke were looking at him. There was no pity in their eyes, only a quiet sympathy, for which Dark was grateful. Then he asked, “So what about the caller?” Krad and Daisuke traded one of those deep looks that made the journalist somewhat uncomfortable.

 

Daisuke murmured, “Something big and bad is out there…and it wants you. We don't know why, nor how it got wind of your existence even, but it's there.” Dark barked a harsh laugh.

 

“So there's something big and ugly's coming after me, and nothing is known about it?” Daisuke nodded.

 

“Pretty much.” Dark rolled his eyes, thinking, Huh. So much for asking them anything.

 

Daisuke stared at the tabletop, tracing designs in it with his index finger. Then he looked up. “Dark?”

 

“Yeah?” The journalist answered carelessly, as though he couldn't care less about what they did now.

 

“Do-do you always do that?” Daisuke smiled weakly, attempting to joke but having it fall flat. Dark gave him a look and even Krad looked interested.

 

“What do you mean, `that'?” The journalist suspiciously asked.

 

“You know…” Daisuke waved a hand. “Interfere with your neighbours.” Dark snorted contemptuously.

 

“'Course not. I just did it because it'd be better if we had a quiet environment in which to talk. Anyhow, that pair always make a racket. If he's not beating her, she's shouting at him. I just want them to shut up so that we can have some peace.” Daisuke blinked. It's like he's a totally different person. Then again, the aura of this place is terrible. It reeks of despair and dead dreams. Then Dark leaned forward. “Now, my question. Just what are you playing at, here?” Krad and Daisuke shot each other sharp looks. Krad sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

“It's a long story.”

 

“I'm listening.” So they sat and they talked until late in the evening. A truce was reached and now they were two grudging allies instead of warring enemies. An improvement, Krad mused during Dark and Daisuke's conversation. A very big improvement indeed.

 

Endlich bin ich fertig, oder? Thanks for reading this new chapter and I really hope you like it and review please! I've been seeing a lot of hits but there haven't been any reviews (well, one), so please please please review. It will also help me to improve, as constructive criticism is perfectly fine by me. It would also help the development of the story, as I don't mind listening to new ideas and what people like about the story, so I'd really appreciate it if you would take the time to review. Seriously. The story becomes more enjoyable for you (as the readers) and feedback is always a good thing. Thanks! Review please! (I'm so shameless). See you soon!