D. N. Angel Fan Fiction ❯ Oh, Dear. ❯ Chapter 9

Journalist 9:

 

Disclaimer: I don't own DN Angel. Capisce?

 

Warnings: Er…bad attempts at gory scenes? Everything's pretty much been said already.

 

Dark and the two Guardians had separated for the day, both agreeing that they would not have time to meet for the next week or so. Although Daisuke still had misgivings about the porcelain doll, he knew that it would be impossible to keep an eye on Dark without neglecting his studies or arousing suspicion in his friends and teachers. The redhead threw himself into studies once more, trying to keep his mind off Dark. Finding out just what was going on in Azumano was much more important at this stage, especially now that the higher-ups were starting to get fidgety.

 

Wednesday night:

 

He was back at home again, taking a shower in the old bathroom. The pipes rattled and shook the walls, hissing and banging. However, the water was hot, and for once it did not run out before had finished. Stepping out onto the cold tiles, he dried himself off and slipped into his usual `home-wear', a pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt. He washed his face quickly before looking up into the large mirror to see whether he had missed any bits of dirt that might have clung desperately to his eyelashes. As though in a horror movie, the sharp image suddenly began to blur and whirl, violet the only distinguishable colour in the wheel. He suddenly saw his own face again, sharp as ever. However, this time the sight was accompanied by searing, agonizing pain. It was as though someone had placed a hot iron on his face and slashed it with a barbed whip repeatedly. He forced himself to look into the mirror and screamed at the image. His own face, bloodied and torn beyond recognition, one eye ripped clean out of the socket, lips twisted into a ghoulish grin, stared straight back at him.

 

He shut his eyes tightly, refusing to open them. Twisting in the blankets, he tried to move but found that he couldn't. “Three blind mice…three blind mice…” Slowly, carefully he opened his eyes…and pain seared through his left eye. Dark reeled upwards, jerking his head sideways. He could feel blood gushing out of his left eye socket and he hastily clapped a hand over his right eye, trying to protect it. Cursing, he reached out with his other free hand and it closed around a delicate, cold wrist. Through the red mist and the slits in his fingers, he could see her, smiling coolly as ever, her transmuted dagger of a left hand piercing his left eye. White heat washed over him and he saw her delicate porcelain features crack, the look of unmasked fury on her face as she shattered into a thousand-no, a million-pieces. He finally found the strength to scream and poured himself into the sound, praying that someone would come. Hands still covering his eyes, one desperately trying to staunch the wound, he fell back into the darkness he had once welcomed

 

Krad inhaled deeply. Exhaled. Inhaled. Exhaled. Daisuke gave him a look, the one that preceded a smart remark. “Is your half-werewolf coming out now, Krad?” He inquired the blond blandly. The other shot him a look, daring him to complete the joke. The redhead didn't; his partner seemed to be in an unstable mood tonight and there was no telling what he might do.

 

“There's blood,” Krad commented. “Strong blood.”

 

“It always is,” the other countered. He fingered his pendant worriedly, wondering if Dark was all right. The little doll hadn't done anything to him yet, but one never knew. Krad stiffened, a nimbus flashing into existence around him, tendrils of red light reaching outwards like so many fine threads.

 

The blond swore softly. “It's Dark's blood.” They didn't need to speak; in a flash of light, they were in Dark's house. They charged through the corridors, crashing through the door to see the entire room spattered in blood and glass. Daisuke thanked the heavens that he was wearing durable shoes as he crunched through the mess and crouched down next to the fallen journalist. A pile of white dust lay on the floor next to him, glittering in the moonlight. At first, Daisuke thought it was just crushed glass, but upon closer inspection he saw sparks of magick flitting their way through the particles. He placed his palm over the dust and flicked, the substance immediately flying into a magically-conjured vial. He handed the tiny glass object to Krad, who smiled wryly. “CSI: Guardians,” he whispered. Daisuke was grateful for the attempted joke, no matter how bad it might have been.

 

“He's a mess,” he told Krad. “Even if I heal him, he'll still need to be under supervision for three weeks at least.”

 

The other shrugged carelessly. “Let him die then. It's not like he was helping us much to begin with.”

 

“Huh, a 180? Krad, you traitor.” Daisuke swallowed hard, knowing that what his friend said was probably the most practical solution to their little problem. A painful one, but quick and practical nonetheless.

 

“You finished gabbing down there, or you want to join him?” The harpy asked sardonically. The two Guardians stared at each other, Krad wanting to get rid of the purple-haired man and Daisuke torn between pragmatism and wanting to save someone. Minutes passed until the harpy decided her two cents was worth the humans' time. “Clock's ticking,” she informed them. “Twenty seconds, or the stud here comes with me.” Daisuke choked back a nervous giggle. Stud?

 

“Krad?”

 

“Ten seconds.”

 

Daisuke looked pleadingly at his partner. For this decision, they needed complete unity, or else the harpy would win and take Dark away for good. The blond stared stubbornly at the blood-stained wooden door, refusing to move. Finally, Daisuke smacked him and the blond threw his hands up.

 

“Five—“

 

“He's coming with us, crone.” The harpy scowled.

 

“Actually, I was just toying with you. His time's up.” She nodded to Dark. “Doll got him, sold him up the river three days ago.” She held up a scrap of wrinkled, greasy paper with Dark's name written in clear, red letters. “Shame, really. He had a nice, long life ahead of him if the thing hadn't chosen him first.”

 

Daisuke didn't bother replying; he whipped out a katana and pointed it straight at the creature. “And I care because…?”

 

The harpy smiled nastily. “Because you're going to have to be my playmate otherwise.” Her breath reeked of rotting meat, but the redhead was far past caring about such mundane things.

 

“Listen,” he snapped. “We're keeping this guy, so that he can live out the nice long life you said he had a shot at. So why don't you just leave?” Krad was silent throughout this exchange, but his partner knew that the blond was just waiting to see which side would win. He was a pain in that way.

 

“Hey, harpy,” Daisuke blinked at Krad's nonchalant tone. The creature blinked and swiveled to look at him.

 

“Yah?”

 

“I'll play you. For this guy.” Krad took a small box out of his pocket and Daisuke rolled his eyes in exasperation. It was the little trick box, the one which could only be opened by sliding the little concealed panels in the right order.

 

“I hardly think this is the time to play,” he mildly commented. The harpy, however, obviously thought differently, her watery eyes fixed on the cuboid.

 

“Twenty seconds to open?” Krad asked. “I'll give you thirty, seeing as you have wings and no hands.” The harpy screeched.

 

“I'll take your twenty, and win,” she told the other. “Nice try.” The blond merely shrugged, tossed the box over, and pressed a few buttons on his watch.

 

“Ready?” The harpy cackled, box in her claws, the beak that had suddenly grown out of her face poised. Daisuke winced.

 

“Go!”

 

In thirteen seconds, the lid fell to the floor. Krad's jaw dropped. Daisuke shut his eyes in dismay. The birdlike creature waddled over to Dark's barely breathing body, latching onto his arm and dragging him through the glass. Suddenly, the markings on the box began to glow white, so brightly that the two Guardians had to cover their eyes. For a moment Daisuke thought he could hear the harpy shrieking, but he chalked that down to her burning eyes. Suddenly, there was a click and the room became dark once more. Daisuke turned around to see Krad pick the box up, his golden eyes sharper than ever. His lips curved up into a cruel smile before he turned back to Daisuke. “Harpy in a box,” he remarked. Daisuke shivered at the ice in the other's eyes.

 

“Let's get him to the hospital,” he shortly said. A whirlwind engulfed them all and they were soon just outside the local hospital.

 

Krad shot him a wry look as they walked in through the automatic sliding doors. “You're so lucky I found that blind spot,” he remarked before taking Dark from the redhead's arms and practically shoving the unconscious journalist at the receptionist. As though on cue, six or seven nurses rushed out and Dark was soon on a white stretcher. Daisuke swallowed hard at the sight of his mutilated face and even the nurses looked a little green. The only one unaffected by the gory sight was Krad.

 

Five hours later:

 

“He's stable.”

 

Neither Guardian said a word, silently looking at the doctor. The man was clearly exhausted, but right now Daisuke could not find it in his heart to empathise with the other. “Fine.”

 

“He'll have to be kept here for three weeks though.”

 

The redhead swallowed hard, knowing the answer to his question already but wanting to ask, hoping against the circumstances. “Is…is there anything we can do about the eye?” The doctor shook his head. Daisuke swallowed hard.

 

“Okay, fine.” Krad snapped from the bench. “Can it, Niwa. The guy already feels like sh--; can't you give him a break? He just spent his night patching your love interest up! Make him feel worse, why don't you?” The redhead stared in surprise; normally he'd be the one trying to calm Krad down, but this time it seemed as though their roles were reversed. “You know what? You can take your advice about calming down, and shove it up your—“

 

“Boys!” The doctor seemed to have recovered somewhat and he looked disapprovingly at the quarrelling pair. “I suggest you both go home and get some sleep. This man is stable, and he'll live through the night. You can come back tomorrow.”

 

“We're staying right here!” Daisuke shot back. Krad sighed and stood up. Walking over to Daisuke, he did something that he'd only ever done to his younger brothers back home-he boxed his ears. Soundly. The redhead made an indignant, spluttering noise whilst the doctor looked ready to rush forward and stop the `child abuse' immediately.

 

“Sorry for taking up your time,” Krad said cordially to the shocked man. “Thank you very much for helping our friend. Good night.” With those words, he left the hospital, dragging a sulky redhead behind him.

 

In their shared apartment, Krad dumped Daisuke down on the bed and walked out without saying a word. The redhead sighed and shut his eyes, knowing that the next morning they would have to track the sender of the doll down and analyse the ceramic dust. What a mess…

 

Friday afternoon, 16:23:

 

“A watched kettle never boils,” Krad casually remarked. Daisuke ignored him, staring intently at Dark's bandage-wrapped face as though watching for some sign of life from the other.

 

“Shut up,” he flatly said.

 

“It's true.”

 

A green light started to glow around Daisuke and Dark and the blond senior's eyes narrowed. He made a cutting gesture with his hand and the light disappeared. A flick of the wrist and Daisuke made a gurgling noise before turning around to pin Krad with fiery crimson gaze. “Damn you,” he hissed venomously. “What'd you do that for?”

 

“Don't drain yourself,” the blond warned him sternly. “We have to go out tonight. And, if I remember correctly, you have Chemistry homework that will undoubtedly take three to four hours to finish.”

 

Daisuke ended up working at one of desk in the room, turning around every fifteen minutes to look at Dark hopefully. Krad sighed in irritation and growled, “Look, if you need help, ask. Don't stare at Dark all the time like that.” Then the door swung open and Satoshi stepped in.

 

His cool blue eyes swept over the room once, one eyebrow raised. “My, my,” he commented to the still-unconscious journalist. “You've gathered quite a fan club here.” He looked at Krad and Daisuke. “Please don't tell me you got him embroiled in your mess again.”

 

Krad scowled. “It was all a little porcelain doll's fault,” he bluntly replied. Satoshi stared at him.

 

“What?”

 

“A talisman,” the blond wearily repeated. “Mr. Journalist here,” he pointed with his chin at Dark, “went and got himself a free one-way ticket to Hell. The doctor says he was lucky the sharp thing didn't poke his brain to bits as well.” The blue-haired man said nothing, silently listening.

 

“So anyway, his face is probably going to resemble the Phantom of the Opera's sans left eye when the bandages come off, and it won't be surprising if he's traumatized to boot.” Satoshi slowly nodded.

 

“I see.” Krad rolled his eyes.

 

“You'd better.”

 

Satoshi looked over to Daisuke, smiling his half-smile. “What's that?” He walked over to the source of the redhead's dismay. “Oh, Chemistry?” He raised an eyebrow at the whimper from the other boy. “That's pretty easy.” A growl. Satoshi looked down at the mop of red on the desk. “Do you want some help?”

 

“Don't bother,” Krad called. “He's so bad at Chemistry, it'll be a miracle if he even understands what a mole is.”

 

“That's 6.23 x 10 to the power of 23, right?”

 

“Give the man a hand,” Krad sarcastically said. “You can read!” Daisuke flushed and Satoshi sighed.

 

“Look,” he said mildly. “Which bits do you find the hardest?” Krad cackled from his corner of room, continuing to do so even when faced with glares from both Satoshi and Daisuke.

 

An hour later, and Daisuke was `set to go', according to the blue-haired man. Krad could not believe his eyes. Daisuke Niwa, the only person in the entire Star Temple unable to say which elements became anions and which became cations, was solving chemical equations like a seasoned…well, chemist. Struggling to keep his jaw from hitting the floor, Krad managed to ask, “How did you do that?”

 

The blue-haired man looked over and smirked. “Do you really want to know?”

 

Krad smirked. “Oh, yes.” He drew the last word out deliberately, his voice becoming little more than a husky whisper. Satoshi merely smiled back, eyes hidden by the glare of his glasses from the hospital lights. Crossing the room in what seemed like a few swift strides, he managed to loom over Krad even though the other was clearly taller, even sitting down. Bending down, he whispered a few words into the other's ear and Daisuke felt himself blushing. Scolding himself for even entertaining the notion of a relationship growing between the pair, he hastily turned back to his Chemistry, only to whip back around when Krad let out an unearthly screech.

 

“Him?!” The normally cool blond squalled, pointing at the comatose Dark. “That…that arrogant, cocky moron?!” Satoshi smirked as Krad gawked at the purple-haired man. “He taught you that stuff?” The blue-haired man shrugged. “No, wait,” the blond continued. “You needed help in school?” Satoshi shrugged once more.

 

“It was more like…a study group,” he finally said. “During our years of high school, some of our classmates formed a study group. They asked Dark to help them out, because none of them were particularly strong in that field, and he obliged. I just watched, and picked up some of his techniques.”

 

“Eh?”

 

The blue-haired man shot a look at his slumbering colleague. “He's a good teacher, believe it or not,” he said flatly. “He'll always try to make the lesson interesting.”

 

Krad couldn't help it. “So what'd you do, teach Daisuke with some special method invented by the genius here?”

 

“Simple. I gave him a few formulae and explained them all in layman's terms. And drew them out for him with…amusing pictures.” Krad sighed.

 

“He's that far beyond hope, huh?”

 

Satoshi raised an eyebrow whilst Daisuke pouted. Suddenly the prone figure in the bed shifted a little, causing all three to rush over and peer anxiously into his face. Krad could hear Satoshi mumbling to himself about the idiocy of their boss, finding the low sound rather pleasant despite the not-so-pleasant vocabulary. Uncaring of whether the doctors would care, the trio immediately began to try to communicate with Dark, each in his own way.

 

Krad swore, Daisuke hastily tried to calm Dark down even though it was clear he was probably still unable to reply to the insults and Satoshi merely said, “You're fired.”

 

To their surprise, Dark chose to answer Satoshi. His voice was somewhat choked and much weaker than usual, but all the same it was a start. “Bastard.” He coughed again. “Why couldn't he let me take a nice, long sleep?”

 

The nurse was incredibly displeased when she saw the three crowded around Dark's bed, obviously straining him, and promptly kicked them out on the grounds of, `Patients need rest. Not noisy people.” Daisuke sighed and looked up bemusedly at the sky. Krad was already following Satoshi to his car, despite the fact that he and his partner had come by motorcycle.

 

“What about the motorbike?” Daisuke asked. Krad turned back and waved cheerily. “You can drive it home,” he shouted back.

 

Three hours later:

 

Takeshi hastily maneuvered Sally in between two SUVs, wincing as he heard the all too familiar sound of metal hitting metal. Praying that he had not damaged what looked to be a very expensive car, he stepped out and examined the damage. Sally had lost a good chunk of her sleek black finish, whilst the other car now had a new black streak reaching from the back door to the trunk. That's going to be hell to pay for, Takeshi thought. He only hoped that the owner did not come out soon.

 

“Hey Dark,” he said as soon as he'd seated himself and found a place to put the bouquet of `Get Well Soon' flowers which the whole office had chipped in for. “Get better soon, okay? I know the big guy fired you when you weren't even around, and that sucks, but I know you'll do okay. Seriously. Don't beat yourself up over it. And…and I hope you can still drive okay.” The large bandage over the other's eye had told Takeshi everything he needed to know. “Sally misses you. She hasn't cruised smoothly since you left and all. And…and I hope you can tell me why you keep disappearing now.” With those words said, he left. What he didn't notice were the tiny sparks dancing around the tips of Dark's fingers.

 

Daisuke, Krad and Satoshi:

 

They'd decided to bring Satoshi home with them. After all, the blue-haired man looked as though he needed some company (according to Krad) and they could perhaps get some more information about Dark out of him (again, according to Krad). Daisuke had been ambivalent towards the whole situation anyway, so he hadn't minded having the artist along for dinner. Besides, Krad needed some company, and he seemed to have his sights set on an older man this time. Daisuke only hoped that the pair wouldn't keep everyone else up for the night if Satoshi did indeed choose to stay over.

 

Krad smiled sweetly at Satoshi over the table, his leg coming up to rest on the other's lap. It was a small table, anyway. Daisuke growled something under his breath and the leg shifted away, but Krad continued to follow it. Satoshi's face showed absolutely no expression out of the ordinary; he continued to eat calmly, hands not even shaking. The blond Guardian smirked and murmured teasingly, “Oh, Sato, isn't it just a little (nudge) hot (nudge) in here?” The blue-haired man stared at him uncomprehendingly. Then Daisuke's head jerked up.

 

“Krad,” he tartly said, “Stop trying to play footsie with me. Quite frankly, it's frightening.” Needless to say, nothing more happened.

 

Satoshi smiled politely at Risa, gritting his teeth and the squeals of delight that emitted from the girl. Who would have thought someone so petite could make so much noise? “It's so pretty!” She cooed happily. “Thank you so much, Sato-chan!” The artist could feel Krad wince, but chose to say nothing. After all, there was no point pushing something when the other clearly had other matters to deal with.

 

Krad glared jealously at Risa's back, wondering whether he could perhaps use lightning to give her the great-grandmother of all bad hair days. Golden eyes narrowed as he contemplated the idea of Risa with an Afro for the next six months, or even better, bald. Daisuke's hand clenched firmly around his shoulder, but the blond was not deterred. He'd taken on worse people before, and he had to keep Satoshi interested in him. Whatever the Hikari wanted, they got. Immediately.

 

Daisuke sighed. Krad, he thought mockingly, I know you love your ego very much, and I admire your efforts to keep it happy, but can you please just let Satoshi go? You two can do the horizontal hokey-pokey after we find out what's been going around town.

 

“So why isn't Dark here?” Risa finally asked. “I thought you'd be with him, seeing as Satoshi works with him and you two seem to like him.” There was an awkward silence as all three looked around the table, trying to think of a plausible explanation for Dark's hospitalization.

 

“He's sleeping,” Satoshi said flatly.

 

“Eh? So early?” Risa pouted.

 

“Yeah.” The blue-haired man resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

 

Daisuke sighed and focused on his food, wondering about the results that the ceramic dust would reveal. He and Krad had sent the little vial off on the way home, huddled in an alleyway so that no one would see. He smiled a little, remembering the look on the blonde's face when he'd stepped on a pile of day-old food. It's probably going to be the usual mix, he thought miserably. Maybe mixed in with a little harpy essence.

 

Krad draped a casual arm over Satoshi's shoulders, looking at the man in shock when he felt just how thin the other was. “What have you been doing to yourself, man?” He asked. “Not even Risa's that thin!” Riku scowled, Risa blushed and swatted at him ineffectually and Daisuke sighed once more.

 

The artist gave the younger man a withering look, which the blonde ignored. Upon seeing the look of annoyance on the other's face, he offered an explanation. “After seeing Daisuke's glare, you develop immunity to anything weaker.”

 

Daisuke glanced at the clock once more, his heart sinking as Krad continued to flirt with the newspaper artist. They were supposed to go out scouting tonight, but it didn't seem as though they were going to get anything done. The redhead decided to go out on his own; after all, it wasn't as though he was going to be holding a commune with some dangerous spirit or another, so he supposed that Krad wouldn't object to this solo outing. Standing up, he politely made his excuses feeling very much like an insecure houseguest and left the house.

 

For such a small town, Daisuke decided, it was certainly difficult to find a remotely quiet area where he could perform minor spells without being seen by anyone. Nevertheless, he continued to wander about, searching for a relatively secluded spot.

 

Krad:

 

Krad threw his head back and laughed freely at one of Satoshi's stories and blithely ignoring the stares from the twins. He wanted to keep the journalist away; it never paid to let too many people in on the secret even if they professed to some other knowledge beforehand; but all the same it was better to err on the side of caution. The reporter had probably already picked up on his game, but it took two to play properly. He felt a flash of irritation from his younger partner, but ignored it. So what if they were supposed to go scouting tonight? It wasn't as though they'd be up for promotion any time son even they worked themselves silly, so why bother?

 

Riku and Risa eventually left for the comfort of their room, one to finish her homework and the other to sleep. The blond turned to Satoshi and smiled, golden eyes slowly darkening to the colour of honey. “So are you going to go too? Because you're welcome to stay over if you like.” The blue-haired artist looked him over and raised an eyebrow, coolly condescending.

 

“Maybe.”

 

Krad leaned forward teasingly, giving the other one last chance to back out. Satoshi looked him over once more and the blond couldn't help but notice that the other's eyebrow rose up even higher as he turned his head away and stood up. The blond scowled.

 

The blue-haired journalist looked down at Krad, a disdainful look painting his fine features. “Sorry,” he dryly said. “I don't do couches.” With that parting shot, he left the apartment, the click echoing through the room. The Guardian stared in shock for a moment before his lips twisted upwards in a wry smile. Engrossed in his own thoughts about Satoshi and the mess that had thrown them next to each other, he remained on the couch until Daisuke returned home, irritated at not being able to find an isolated spot.

 

Dark:

 

He tried to blink, but found that the covering around his left eye was so tight that he couldn't even move the eyelid. His skin felt taut and hot on his face, and it seemed to be a lot darker than he remembered. At first he thought it was just one of the nightmares he'd been starting to have recently, but with a startling, cold clarity, he realized that he'd never be able to use his left eye ever again. The darkness was all around him and with nothing, no one to keep him company, Dark felt the old fear creeping in. The one that had settled into his soul after the night his mother had left and never returned.

 

No, I haven't died. I've just run into a really bad case of writer's block, so I hope this chapter's okay. Thanks for reading!