D. N. Angel Fan Fiction ❯ When Angels Deserve To Die ❯ Nostalgia ( Chapter 2 )

When Angels Deserve To Die

A Krad/Towa Drabble Collection

Theme #2- Bury

Title: Nostalgia

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: Don't own DNAngel. Really, why don't you people believe me?

By: White Kiss

 

The Hikaris put so much bloodshed and tears into their work, that the art masterpieces began to possess soul and strength of their own. The family never saw this as a curse, instead as a blessing, showing that the creations were a part of them, their life, their work.

 

And indeed, the art pieces displayed the same level of affection too. At the dead of the night, their souls roamed around the gallery, talking, laughing, bragging, pratically anything under the sun. It was a pity good times need to end in such a dramatic fashion. Rivalry, obsession towards the living and limitless possibilites were ignited, wrecking immeasurable weapon.

 

That was when the Hikaris began to feel scared. Scared they would go against them, destroy their very own creators mercilessly. Thus they began to seal them one by one, condemming each's power and burrying it within their souls. All were successful, save for the srongest—the Black Wings.

 

He was half of said artistic wonder.

 

Even with her magic locked away, Towa never lost grip of many memories. She latched on to them, until the day she was free from the seal, with a new owner and refreshed hope. One day, years later, her wish came true.

 

She should have predicted it earlier, seeing him once again was a major clue. Though he was sharing a body with a Hikari descendant, she could still recognize him with one look. With one look she could idetify the lost feelings he long harboured, the hopelessness he refused to admit and the drive to get whatever he wanted at all costs.

 

The Hikari descendant stayed for a fairly long time, giving her more time to admire him after what seemed like eternity. He was his usual cocky self alright, not even bothering to appear as a ghostly apparition to greet an old friend.

 

Yet she knew if he did intend to say something, it would be the same old line he would sneer whenever she confided in him,

 

“ Dare to dream, wench.”

 

Over the seconds, one's good side could deteoriate , the bad side displaying converse effects. Neither of Krad's changed, regardless of all the negativity and pressure—which led to the reason why she could never forget him.