D. N. Angel Fan Fiction ❯ Snippets ❯ His Only Witness ( Chapter 1 )

His Only Witness:

 

Disclaimer: I don't own DN Angel.

 

Warnings: Good question, seeing as this is a collection of random one-shots. Yaoi (I'm stuck in that mode), OOC, angst, shounen-ai, fluff probably, mild swearing, mentions of different yaoi pairings, although I have a feeling most of them will either be Dark/Dai or Sato/Dai, some may be AU.

 

A/N: This is just a break from `Journalist', as I don't think I'm up to typing out Chapter 9 just yet, seeing as I have exams (guilty look) and a slight case of writer's block. So this is just something inspired from doing a DN Angel marathon and watching all 26 episodes of the anime in just three days. PS-anyone know where to find good translated scans of the manga? Thanks.

 

He's always there, watching, waiting. He's been there through everything-the good times, the bad times, the crazy times. He's always there, lurking within the deep recesses of his mind, a silent commentator. His presence is comforting, although somewhat disconcerting, especially when his thoughts drift.

 

His manner is playful, cocky, confident. He's everything that he's not. To the world, he's cool, suave, the kind of guy who could get away with murder. Even older women blush and sigh when he winks at them.

 

He can make anything look good. He can step out of a bush and still look like a million dollars (to use Takeshi's favourite phrase). He can pop out of the local Dumpster and look like he just walked out of a beauty salon, complete with fussy hairdressers and busty blonde women with heavily made-up faces.

 

He could probably walk into a VIP-exclusive event for Sasa (1) or some fashion show and be welcomed in with open arms. He could strut his stuff on the catwalk and come out of it alive. He could be smashed into a wall, body-slammed, be used as an energy ball target and still walk out and look as though all he did was go shopping for groceries.

 

“Mr. Niwa, perhaps you'd like to tell the class what you were thinking of?” There was an awkward silence as Daisuke desperately tried to stammer something out along the lines of, `Sorry sensei,'. The class looked at him, expecting nothing, receiving nothing. After a reprimand from the teacher and a chastised nod, Daisuke settled back into the stupor from which he had been pulled. After all, he didn't plan on taking French any further than he strictly had to, and his thoughts were much more interesting than the Future tense. Oddly enough, he didn't make a comment.

 

-Change of POV-

 

He's so…normal. Even though he's not, he still keeps up the façade. Still stammers whenever the teacher's wrath is upon his head, still squeaks whenever his mother goes crazy, still has a crush on the same girl he's watched for years, even though she rejected him, still dreams. He's surprised and not surprised at the same time, seeing as he has so much hope left in him. He's always smiling, always kind, always ready to help even though he knows it will inconvenience him in some way or another.

 

He's just the kid next door, that's all. Or so he continues to tell himself. But deep down inside, he knows that his host is just as much a mystery as he himself is. Unlike some people, who could be read like books, he was an enigma, a mystery to everyone whom he met.

 

Daisuke threw his bag down on the floor as he reached his room. Stooping down, he pulled out his sketchbook and sat down at his desk with it. Smiling quietly to himself, he began to draw. The urge had been pulling at him for some days now, so he figured that getting the picture down on paper would help him to work it out of his system.

 

Ne, Dai, what're you drawing? Daisuke smiled slightly as he felt his closest friend stir.

 

“Just something…” he answered. It didn't occur to him that Dark would take a peek. Then again, a lot of things never occurred to him until they happened. Which was probably the reason why he got into so many scrapes.

 

Daisuke? Dark questioned. Is…is that me?

 

Daisuke smiled. “Yes, Dark, it is.”

 

The thief was intrigued. What for? I know I'm stunningly handsome, and I've got an amazing personality that draws you to me…Daisuke sighed.

 

“In your dreams, Dark.”

 

Ooh, catty now, aren't we? The older one taunted. There was no malice in his voice; it was banter between two friends.

 

“W-ell, if you don't like it…” Daisuke purposely trailed off, knowing that Dark would not be able to resist.

 

I'm a better subject than most, the other conceded finally. It was all the retraction that the redhead knew he would get. So…do I get to choose tonight?

 

“Eh…?” Daisuke was completely baffled as to the other's meaning. “What do you mean, Dark?”

 

Do I get to choose which twin to hit on tonight? Disappointment…at what? Then an indignant squawk.

 

“No! You most certainly do not!” Dark pouted-Daisuke could see him in his mind's eye, sitting there, cross-legged with a pout on his face. “You're so mature,” he mocked playfully as he continued to draw.

 

-Two hours later-

 

Dark looked at the sketchbook, transparent fingers reaching out to touch the pages but not succeeding. It was a picture of him, sitting there in his usual garb, wings wrapped around himself in a sort of cocoon. But it wasn't the actual picture that caught his interest. Oh no. It was the spirit which had caught his attention. Dark knew better than anyone else just how much life artwork had. However, when looking at this particular picture, one would be inclined to believe that it had been made in the spirit of something more than just an artist, sketching an image. There was more feeling in it. This was no piece made solely for money; it was made whilst sitting on the wings of Inspiration, that fickle god who might only appear once in a lifetime but left a lasting impression with each visit. You look upon me with the eye of a friend, little one. Not as a curse, not as some hero to worship and watch with adoring eyes, but as a friend do you upon me look.

 

Brushing a gentle hand over the soft red locks that spill onto the pillow, the Phantom Thief gently places an unfelt kiss to his Tamer's lips before smiling sadly, for he knows that what he wants will never come to be. His only witness is With, and he will never tell.

 

*Looks around* Everyone together now…AWWW.