D. N. Angel Fan Fiction ❯ Oh, Dear. ❯ Chapter 10

Journalist 10:

 

Disclaimer: DN Angel. Not mine. Comprende?

 

Warnings: Nothing that hasn't already been said.

 

A/N: Uni apps and end-of-year exams are catching up fast, so updates will probably be sporadic, to say the least. I'll try to keep the quality though. Plus, this is a Halloween chapter, so there's your treat!

 

Dark lay still, afraid to move or even breathe. The beeping of the monitor sounded unnaturally loud, the rustling of the curtains hinting at some unknown presence in the room with him. Fear washed over him in waves, his heart pumping faster and faster as it sped up with the rush of adrenaline now flooding the journalist's system. His eye throbbed fiercely and he squirmed at the suddenly too-hot room, finally rolling over onto his left side slowly. Some of his fear evaporated as the movement broke his fear, and he soon fell asleep. What he didn't realize was that he was glowing with white light, tinged with a hint of red.

 

Daisuke:

 

The alarm clock shrilled into the silence of the dark bedroom, the red numbers glowing brightly in the darkness. Daisuke groaned and slammed a hand on the source of the offensive noise, bleary-eyed and barely thinking. As soon as the clock stopped, he rolled over and went straight back to sleep, not realizing that he would sleep half the day away as a result of his night's activities.

 

Krad:

 

“Don't you have class today?” Risa asked Krad. The blond thought for a moment and then shook his head.

 

“No.”

 

“But I thought you had—“

 

“I don't. The teacher's off, so we're just going to have a free period anyway. Why bother going so early?” The brunette frowned, clearly about to say something, but then sighed and turned around.

 

“You two are so lazy!” She pouted before flouncing out the door. Krad merely sighed and leaned back in the chair, absently wondering about how to best release the harpy he'd trapped last night. Maybe I should peddle it off to some human as a genie in a box, he thought wryly. He silently cursed the idiot journalist for coddling the doll and wondered when the dust analysis would come back. After all, the Star Temple was notorious for its inability to analyse the many samples sent back by various Guardians efficiently, and results were known to sometimes arrive long after the case had been filed away.

 

Satoshi:

 

Satoshi sighed and poked at the hapless sheet of paper with his black pen, wondering about his friend. As annoying as Dark could get, he had been the only one with whom the blue-haired artist had felt comfortable with. Moreover, Takeshi had been moping around the office lately, silence replacing the horrifyingly off-colour jokes and raucous laughter. He wondered whether Dark would return to work, or whether he would quietly leave. The blue-haired boy shuddered at the mere memory of the wounds that his friend had apparently sustained.

 

Three hours later:

 

“I'm late!” Krad looked up to see a very ruffled Daisuke tear into the living room, shirt askew and hair tousled.

 

“That's generally what happens when you oversleep,” he wryly commented.

 

“Why didn't you wake me up?” The redhead demanded.

 

“Because I didn't think that you'd be so hot to trot after yesterday,” Krad answered truthfully. As Daisuke lectured him on the importance of blending in with their surroundings and going to school like good, responsible young people, the blond gritted his teeth. Kosuke had better be grateful that I haven't killed his son yet! “Well, guess we'd better get some work done, huh sunshine?” He finally asked after the speech had ended.

 

Red eyes glared. “How could you? We have to go see if Dark's all right first!” Daisuke snapped.

 

Krad rolled his eyes. “He's stable. Isn't that enough for you?”

 

“What if he died in the night?”

 

“Then Satoshi would have been here ringing the doorbell three hours ago.”

 

“What if the hospital didn't know who to contact?”

 

“Why do you care so much?” Krad couldn't help but ask. Guardians rarely developed attachments because of their long life span and their transient lifestyles. Humans were not allowed to enter any of the temples, another reason as to why Guardians rarely bothered to seek out company amongst them.

 

Daisuke scowled fiercely, a ting of red dotting his face. The blond Guardian merely sat still, golden eyes unblinking, waiting for an appropriate answer. “I need him to teach Chemistry,” was the lame answer. Krad resisted the urge to cackle.

 

Daisuke could have impaled himself on his own katana. I did not just say that, he tried to convince himself, but reality was harsh. He decided to act with dignity and turned on his heel sharply, intending to walk out of the door. Alas, his coat caught onto the hooked door handle, and Daisuke was jerked back into the house with Krad giggling like a five year old behind him.

 

Dark:

 

“Let's see how you're doing then,” the doctor said as he carefully removed the large bandages swathing Dark's face, making sure to avoid touching the one over the journalist's eye. “Hmm, not…oh, my.”

 

Dark tried to ask something, but a garbled croak came out instead of a coherent word. The doctor immediately sensed that his patient was trying to say something, and within moments a glass of water was pushed between his lips. He drank greedily, trying not to spill anything. “My goodness…” the doctor was still saying, clearly unable to believe his eyes.

 

“What?” Dark demanded, now able to speak properly and feeling much better than he had the day before.

 

“At the rate you're going…” the doctor said slowly, “by tomorrow, you'll be…”

 

“What?” Dark asked irascibly. “Dead?”

 

“As good as new,” the doctor corrected. The journalist gritted his teeth.

 

“What are you babbling about?” He asked. “I just had my face torn off, my left eye gouged out and you're telling me I'll be as good as new tomorrow?”

 

“Believe me,” the doctor said a little huffily, “If I knew what was causing this, I'd recommend your treatment for all the patients.”

 

“You mean you don't know what's causing this?”

 

“No. But if it makes you feel any better,” the doctor snapped, “you'll never be able to use your left eye again!”

 

Dark took a few deep breaths, reminding himself that had it not been for this doctor, he would have probably been left with a ruined face. “So…do I have any scars?”

 

“No.” Still irritated, the doctor had cut down on the length of his replies.

 

“I'm sorry, okay? It's just…it's just that it's been a little stressful over on this side.” Dark tried for a smile, but found that his muscles were just a little stiffer than he remembered.

 

“You shouldn't move.” That was the doctor again. “We'll keep you here overnight just for observation, and if you're fine tomorrow then you can go home.”

 

Dark swallowed hard. “Yes. That would be fine. Thank you very much.”

 

“You're welcome.”

 

Daisuke and Krad:

 

“I hope Dark's doing all right,” Daisuke worried. “I had to heal him last time, and I didn't have time to do anything last night. I should have healed him.”

 

“I'm pretty sure healing doesn't extend to missing body bits,” Krad pointed out. “I see no reason for you to guilt-trip yourself over something so trivial. Besides, he's not going to die. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I'd say he was a pretty darn good fighter at some point of his life. Remember that little trick cupboard?” The redhead frowned lightly. Smiling, Krad continued to cajole his friend. “Come on, I'm sure we have something to tell him that'll be worth his little secret. Just what kind of journalist knows how to fight properly, anyway?”

 

They passed the doctor on their way in. “Good morning…” Daisuke squinted at the name-tag on the white lab coat. “Watanabe-sensei.” The doctor nodded in reply.

 

“Are you Dark's doctor?” Krad cut in. The man nodded once more. What is this guy-a mute? The blond thought.

 

“Is he all right?”

 

Dr. Watanabe nodded again. “Yes,” he finally said. “He's recovering much more quickly than usual. In fact, we've actually removed the facial bandages, although we can't take the one over his eye off until we find a suitable eye patch. He won't be seeing through his left eye anymore, but apart from that there should be no other grave consequences.” He smiled slightly.

 

“Thank you!” Daisuke hastily told the doctor before dashing in. Krad followed at a more sedate pace, smiling and nodding to Watanabe.

 

The first thing Dark was aware of was the sound of footsteps, and then a weight rammed into his midriff. “Are you all right?” It was Daisuke.

 

“Looks like it.” Dark managed to smile slightly, but his blood ran cold as soon as Daisuke asked the million-dollar question.

 

“How do you know how to fight like that?”

 

Satoshi:

 

“I'm telling you, there is no way you're going to be able to get away with that,” Satoshi told the intern. The son of a prominent businessman within Azumano, his daddy had pulled a few strings to get his son a job working part time at the newspaper office, namely, in the cartoons section.

 

“You never said that,” the boy protested stubbornly. “You just said, `Polish it up a bit'.”

 

The artist sighed. Luckily for him, one of the other artists leaned over and told the obnoxious brat, “When Hiwatari says `Polish it up', he means, `That's terrible.'” The intern flushed a dark shade of red and hastily retreated to his desk. Satoshi rubbed his temples, wincing at the beginnings of a gorgeous headache.

 

Takeshi:

 

“Saehara!”

 

Takeshi Saehara leapt out of his seat, scrabbling through the papers in his desk, looking for the notes on the article he was supposed to be working on. Normally the boss didn't bellow from his office unless Dark was concerned, but Saehara had a feeling that his friendship with the somewhat unorthodox journalist would soon put him under fire, especially now that said journalist was hospitalized.

 

“Come in, come in,” a voice called out from behind the door. Saehara winced, muttered a quick prayer and opened the solid walnut wood door.

 

“You know, Takeshi,” Takegawa said coolly once the other had closed the door behind him, “I've been reviewing all your reports and articles lately, and I feel that your performance merits a…reward, of sorts. You've been one of the few writers to come in regularly, and the quality of your work has been of a consistently high quality.” Takeshi blinked, but did not dare say anything. Takegawa continued serenely. “So, I have decided to give you a raise. A very substantial raise, I may add.” He looked at Saehara expectantly, waiting for the journalist to fall in gratitude.

 

“Thank you, sir,” Saehara said sincerely. Part of him wanted to know why he was being promoted so suddenly, but he pushed the voice away. Never look a gift horse too closely in the mouth, he told himself, hiding a wry smile. For a journalist, he was surprisingly cautious.

 

If the editor was disappointed, he didn't show it. “As a…little celebration…how about we celebrate together?” Takeshi nearly dropped his notes.

 

“I'm sorry, sir?”

 

“We'll go out for a drink tonight,” Takegawa said smoothly. “I'll see you in the lobby at, say, 7:30 tonight?” The other could only nod, still stunned at the sudden act of generosity and the sudden change in relationship.

 

Satoshi:

 

It was lunch break. Thankful for an excuse to get away from the intern, whose idiocy was starting to grate on his nerves, he jumped into the car and drove to the hospital.

 

He was somewhat surprised to find that Dark, Krad and Daisuke were locked in an intense discussion, the journalist showing no outward signs of weariness or trauma. The only sign that he had been involved in a rather nasty accident was the new eye patch over his left eye. Nevertheless, he had known Dark to look totally sober for the entire evening no matter how many drinks he downed, only to suddenly pass out in the bar stool. He cleared his throat.

 

The occupants of the room looked up, faces serious. Krad looked at Dark silently before the purple-haired journalist nodded. “He knows everything,” was all the other would say.

 

Golden eyes fixed on Satoshi's ice blue ones with a frightening intensity. “Am I correct I in saying that you know everything about Dark before he was transferred to Azumano?” The artist nodded, eyes hardening. If Daisuke and Krad were trying to dig up the past without Dark's consent, he would fight to keep it secret.

 

“You knew he was a hired -!”

 

Satoshi slapped a hand over the blond's mouth. “Quiet!” He hissed. “You want to advertise his past all over the hospital?” He snatched his hand away just in time to avoid a nasty bite from the Guardian. “God,” he mumbled to himself. “You're so immature.”

 

“I can be…mature…” Krad smirked. Daisuke sighed.

 

“All right, all right, back to the matter at hand, children.” He calmly patted the blond's back, only to be met by a mischievous glance.

 

“But there's a bed there, where I'm sure I can prove my…maturity.”

 

Satoshi gritted his teeth. “Okay, so why are you so interested in Dark's past?” He pointedly ignored Krad's previous remark.

 

“We needed to know how and where he learned to fight,” Daisuke explained. “If someone's sending Dolls after him, either he committed an abominable crime, or else he's caught someone's eye and they really, really want him dead.”

 

Satoshi slowly nodded. “Well,” he said wryly, “That's the price you pay for being what he was.” He emphasized the past tense. Daisuke nodded.

 

“We're hoping that whatever's going after Dark is what we're looking for,” he continued. “That's why we've been digging around.”

 

Krad shrugged carelessly. “Plus, he said he wanted to come with us on this whole thing, so now he's paying the price. Although,” he smiled coldly, “he's certainly sustained more injuries than most Fledglings do in their first year.” At Satoshi's puzzled look, he elaborated further. “Fledglings are what we call new Temple initiates.” Satoshi nodded, unsure of whether he liked this new side of Krad.

 

Takeshi:

 

He arrived at the hospital with fifteen minutes to spare. Swearing vigorously, he parked the black car between a large blue minivan and a surprisingly fat Bug before squeezing out and heading into the building.

 

He arrived right outside the room, but didn't go in upon hearing voices. He recognized one of them as Satoshi's, but he didn't know who the other two were. It seemed that they were talking about something important. True to his nature, Saehara stayed outside the room, straining to hear anything important. He didn't have to wait long. His dark eyes widened and he felt a wave of horror wash over him as Satoshi briefly summarized the other journalist's life. Dark was an assassin? He thought. He killed people for a living? My best friend is the same as one of the people who killed my father? Dizzy with confusion and horror, he staggered away from the room, thoughts crashing and whirling in his head.

 

Dark:

 

He didn't feel like talking today. His eye, although healing, still throbbed and he felt hot, as though the cuts were still fresh on his face. He leaned back into the pillows, drifting in and out of consciousness as waves of sleepiness washed over him. He didn't notice the strange looks both Guardians gave him as he fell asleep once more.

 

Satoshi looked down at his colleague. With a quick glance at his watch, he noted that his hour was almost up and unless he wanted to face an increasingly tetchy editor-in-chief, he had better get going. “Well, it's time for me to go back,” he announced as he stood up. “And Dark looks like he's fast asleep, so I guess we're not going to get anything else done after this.” He nodded at the two Guardians as he left. “Don't say anything,” he warned them before leaving. Krad and Daisuke swapped looks before standing up and leaving Dark to his dreams.

 

-Dream Sequence-

 

Blood soaked the ground around his feet, screams echoing in his ears as flames roared up, consuming the entire village. He felt rage well up deep within him as he lifted a mighty broadsword aloft, brandishing it with barely any effort. Looking up towards the lightning-laced heavens, he roared in triumph even as he brought the weapon down to hack into the prone body in front of him once more.

 

“What have you done, my son?” The voice was filled with despair even as its owner staggered towards him, hands outstretched in a plea. “What have you done?”

 

His sword bit deeply into the figure's neck before he even had time to register the swing, the head lolling limply to one side as muscle and bone were severed. He looked down at the face, agony and pain etched into its aged features. In spite of the wrinkles, he recognized it. It was his mother.

 

-End Sequence-

 

“I didn't kill her!”

 

“Sir, please calm down!” The agitated nurse tried to calm the thrashing journalist, frightened that he would rip out a needle and start bleeding. “Please, sir!”

 

“I'm telling you, I didn't kill her!” Dark seized the nurse by the front of her uniform. “You believe me, don't you?”

 

Upon seeing that there was no way to calm the panicking man, she yelled, “I need tranqs here for patient #456, room 257!” Within moments, they'd jabbed a needle into Dark's right arm and he was soon quiet again.

 

Daisuke and Krad:

 

They'd decided to go to the mall for a while. Unfortunately, it seemed that there was a household appliance convention, and the entire place was swarming with housewives comparing prices. The pair had immediately decided to leave before they went deaf and headed for a less well known shopping centre. They'd then proceeded to burn three hours watching Die Hard 4.0 for the third time, walking out with their minds fuzzy and blank from the copious number of explosions. “That's the great thing about magic,” Krad commented as soon as the ringing in his ears stopped. “It looks much more colourful when you're having a battle.”

 

Daisuke didn't bother replying. “I think I need to go visit the Temple Library,” he finally said. Krad stared.

 

“What?”

 

“I want to see if there are any particular legends associated with Azumano,” he said. “There must be something worth looking for here if there are monsters prowling around and Dolls are arriving.”

 

“Why don't you just go ask Lavi or Bookman?” Krad pointed out. “The Exorcists are much more in tune with the human realm, unlike us Guardians.”

 

“Because they're a little…busy right now,” Daisuke dryly replied. “You have heard that the Earl's starting in on their Generals now, haven't you?”

 

“Point taken.” Krad shrugged. “So why do you think Dark's such a big target?”

 

“We'd be going home if I knew,” Daisuke snapped. He was tired of Krad's questions, irked by the brain-numbing feeling that Bruce Willis films always left him with and worried about Dark.

 

“Oh, someone's tetchy today,” the blond remarked caustically. “Look, getting grouchy isn't going to help the issue. We may as well just give ourselves a rest, wait until Dark's fully functional instead of falling asleep every twenty minutes and then we can work things out with him. I'm sure he wouldn't want to miss something this crucial. Sound good?”

 

“Yeah, but then I'd have to worry about Chem homework,” the younger Guardian morosely replied.

 

“It's okay,” Krad cheerily said. “We can call Satoshi over. Besides, I'd really like to move in on him, if you know what I mean.” He smirked and the redhead rolled his eyes.

 

“Fine. But not whilst he's teaching me.” They both laughed a little and headed for the bus stop, resolving not to mention the case until Dark had fully recovered.

 

Takeshi:

 

He stared blankly at the harsh light of the computer screen, eyes glazed over.

 

-Flashback-

 

“Here we are, live at the museum where the priceless painting, `Tears of Light' will be held for the next twelve weeks! It is said that the late Yumi Aragawa, upon discovering that she had only months to live, put the remainder of her energy into this work, giving it the aura and unique glow that makes it one of the most highly valued works in the art world.”

 

Takeshi watched the television with wide eyes, the toy in his hand forgotten. He stared in awe at the important looking grown-ups walking out, his father standing behind them. “There's Dada!” He squealed happily, pointing at the screen. His mother quickly shushed him and put him on her lap, where he squirmed uncomfortably. Nevertheless, he stared at the television, enraptured.

 

Suddenly the entire scene was pitched into darkness. First there were only dull murmurs of surprise, and then the screams began.

 

His father died of wounds in the hospital three days later. Although no one could precisely say what the attacker and thief had looked like, they said that he had proudly announced himself as a member of the Four Points before disappearing with the painting, leaving a trail of chaos and five dead men behind.

 

Eyes cold, he stood up and picked up his jacket, walking out into the lobby to wait for his boss. He sighed and tried to clear the thoughts out of his head, wondering just how he should treat Dark. It was so difficult not to think about his best friend as being the same as the man who'd cost him his father, but it was the truth. He looked up in surprise, seeing Editor-in-Chief Takegawa standing in front of him, eyes smiling. “Let's go, Takeshi.”

 

Dark:

 

As a journalist, Dark definitely could not say that he was completely without curiosity. In fact, he had often been called incorrigible a number of times, stemming from his habit of asking (often unwanted) questions at the worst possible moments. He had always listened to the girls gossiping at school, interested in knowing anything and everything about his classmates. Nevertheless, he felt awfully incurious about his newfound powers.

 

He looked down at his hand and flexed his fingers, watching the tiny sparks of white and red light dance in the air for a moment before vanishing once more. He frowned and this time the orbs of light remained longer, quivering in mid-air. He let his mind wander and fixed on the memory of him and Takeshi, riding in Sally with an injured dog in the backseat. His friend had kept the dog, but often Dark wished that he had. It was lonely coming back to the flat with nothing to look forward to except his movie collection. He grinned ruefully, remembering the argument he'd had with his friend about what to call the animal. Then he heard a bark.

 

A large dog stood at the foot of the bed, tail thumping furiously against the floor as it barked happily. It could have been the twin of Takeshi's except for one detail: it glowed. Dark gaped for a few moments before reaching out a hand to touch the animal. It walked over and sniffed at his hand for a moment before barking once more and immediately jumping up onto the bed with him. However, the journalist was preoccupied with staring at his hands. I'm sure I didn't want a dog that badly, he thought. Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the animal vanished. On second thoughts, it was nice, he hastily thought, causing the dog to reappear once more.

 

Surprisingly, the nurses made no fuss about the dog, and they certainly didn't seem to notice the red glow that it radiated. They even provided him with makeshift bowls and a leash for the dog, and suggested that perhaps he could walk it after he'd been discharged. Luckily for the journalist, the animal appeared to come house-trained. The doctor came in later to check on him before they turned off the lights for the night, and raised an eyebrow at the dog but said nothing. “How are you feeling, Dark?” He asked mildly.

 

“Never felt better,” the other replied cheerfully. He decided that as cliché as those articles about the healing properties of having a pet were, the stories were indeed true.

 

“I can imagine,” Dr. Watanabe smiled once more. Inwardly, he was surprised that Dark had not reacted negatively to, or even mentioned being tranquilised. The doctor glanced quickly at the monitor beside the bed before nodded and pressing a button, causing the upper half of the bed to rise and turning the piece of furniture into a sort of chair. He placed his stethoscope on Dark's chest. “Breathe in,” he ordered. After about a minute, he nodded in satisfaction. “All right, it seems that you're in top shape,” he cheerfully commented. “You're more than ready to go home, but we'll keep you overnight for observation, and you can go home tomorrow.” Dark sighed in disappointment, but nodded anyway. “Oh, one thing,” the doctor mildly said. “Where did that dog come from?” Dark froze.

 

Daisuke and Krad:

 

“I don't believe I'm doing this,” the redhead groaned. “And on a weekday, too!” He sank lower into his barstool, hoping that no one would notice and approach him.

 

It had been Krad's idea to go out for a while to get their minds off the case, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something crucial was missing from their puzzle. He wanted nothing more than to be back home, working on either his History or Art homework, but the blond had looked so disappointed at the prospect to clubbing by himself that the redhead finally gave in. He was sorely regretting the decision.

 

“Hey there, cutie!” Daisuke sighed and spun around to find a lanky man looking him up and down. There was a sleazy air about him which the white suit only seem to further enhance, and the Guardian felt like screaming. “You look okay. Can I have your number?” The man slid onto the empty barstool next to the student and leaned close, clearly intending to gauge the other's reaction to his presence.

 

No way, not in a million years! “Uh…” Daisuke frantically searched for the best way to say no without sounding offensive. “I lost my phone,” he weakly offered.

 

“Come on honey, it'll be well worth it.” The creep leaned in further. “I'll teach you everything.” He winked lewdly and the redhead repressed a shudder. “You'll be begging for it before long.” That did it.

 

“Er, well, I've actually got to go…uh…my house is on fire.” He smiled weakly before trying to slide off the stool. Unfortunately, the guy was now gripping his arm tightly. I don't believe this. “Erm, actually, I've got…uh…herpes! No, wait, it was called something else…uh…syphilis? Ah, I remember, I've got AIDS, AIDS!” He darted off onto the crowded dancefloor, squeezing through the dancers and heading for the exit. Screw this, I'm going home. Just then, someone grabbed him. He felt a sharp prick in his arm and soon his vision went black as he sagged limply in the other's arms.

 

Okay, so it's a half-hearted sort of cliffhanger. But really, it's not that bad. Happy Halloween, y'alls!