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Tuesday: Read DNAngel, 1-4.

Wednesday: First DNAngel 'fic started.

Thursday: Blog layout became DNAngel-themed.

Friday: Got two other friends into DNAngel.

Saturday: One of said friend's layouts also became DNAngel-themed. Decided first 'fic blew, started second 'fic.

Sunday (today): Second (this) 'fic completed.

I fell very, very hard for DNAngel.

This is quite horribly OOC, darker than any DNAngel 'fic has the right to be, considering that this /is/ DNAngel and I only made a passing mention to Krad, and inspired by a single comment from my friend, on Dark's name.

The title isn't anything particularly original. The 'fic isn't particularly original--if I may just take a moment to say how much I've enjoyed the other 'fics in this section, this 'fic was inspired by and dedicated to all of you, although I really, really tried not to be unduly influenced by any 'fic--and actually, I think my favorite pairing is Satoshi x Daisuke, or Dark x Daisuke (No, don't ask me how it'll ever be possible. I just think it'd be cute.) but...

I make no excuses.

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A Game of Cat and Mouse
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The night was clear--hardly a cloud lingered in the sky to shield the moon, who bathed the world in her surreal, otherwordly light. The air held a touch of midnight chill--not much, pleasantly cool, rather than /cold/.

The world was quiet, nearly nothing stirring the stillness of the witching hours--

Nothing, except for one Dark Mousy, who was quietly and efficiently menacing Hiwatari Satoshi.

Well, this was certainly new, Satoshi mused, backing up a pace and bumping into the wall behind him.

Dark continued to advance, pace by pace--a slow, steady stalk, huge black wings somehow making his body seem slighter and more willowy than it actually was.

Satoshi tried to resist the urge to bolt--the juxtaposition of roles unnerved him. /He/ was supposed to be the one going after the thief, and Dark was the one who was to try to escape--

Those were the rules.

Dark was currently quite busy breaking them.

He turned his head to the side, trying to ignore the kaitou and hide just how uncomfortable he was. It probably didn't work--Dark knew him too well, just as he knew Dark too well--

--And as though the thief had read his mind, Dark spoke.

"I know a lot of things, Soushirei-dono... Or should that be 'Hiwatari-kun'?"

He snapped his attention back to the figure leaning over him, unwillingly meeting amber eyes with his own--deep, deep, clear amber-red, just like Niwa-kun's, those eyes never changed, the only constant thing in his life, along with Dark and Niwa-kun himself...

The thief leaned closer, face within inches of his own, expression unusually serious.

"I know that Daisuke wants to be your friend."

Even closer, even closer now, close enough to touch if he just leaned forward--

"I know that you want to be /more/ than his friend."

Satoshi said nothing. Dark lowered his voice, so it was nothing more than a husky breath tickling at his ear--he should be, he didn't know, arresting Dark or something, but...

"I know," Dark murmured, "Why you won't let yourself."

Red hot ice singing through his veins, the reason he let no one near him, went near no one, seductive demons whispering their lies into his ear--one light, one dark, one /Dark/, one the opposite of darkness--

One liar.

One that told the truth.

And he, who ignored it.

Dark smirked--the familiar expression on that familiar face the /only/ familiar thing that had happened this night.

The thief took another step forward.

"Let's play a game, Hiwatari-kun," Dark purred.

"I'll be the cat..." the thief caught his hand, twined slender fingers with his own, pushing it back slowly until his arm was pinned against the wall.

"...and you'll be the mouse..."

His other hand was caught, brought up, pressed lightly to Dark's mouth.

"...and let's see who gets caught, in the end."

Like a cat absently toying with its chosen prey, letting it go and allowing it to believe it was free before snatching it back into its own grasp with an easy grace, Dark backed away.

The smirk remained.

Satoshi didn't move.

They stared at each other for a long heartbeat, so still that they could have been statues--one of ebony, one of ice, reflections under the subtle light of the moon--

Until he brought the hand that Dark had kissed up, and broke the illusion. Satoshi glanced curiously at the back of it for a moment, wondering if the kaitou had left a mark--it certainly /felt/ as though he should have, felt as though he should have been branded by Dark's touch, that single area burning with a sweet, slow ache, bringing to mind fire and honey and liquid crimson amber--

And Satoshi smiled, a wry, nearly bitter upturn of the lips, then took his glasses off.

For the first time that night, he looked at the kaitou with unshielded, yet equally clear vision.

"So," he brushed a lock of pale, icy hair out of his eyes with a careless movement. "What are the rules, Kuroneko-san?"

Dark half-lidded his eyes, and looked lazily at Satoshi.

"Rules, Hiwatari-kun," he said, crossing his arms, "Are only what we make of them."

"Rules are there for understanding."

He shouldn't be saying that. Shouldn't even be here, talking to the person he was sworn to capture, playing /games/ with that person--mind games, word games, games of cat and mouse, hunter turned hunted, turn hunter again--

"Understanding," Dark said, softer, "Is only what we make of it, too."

Satoshi looked up, half-smile feeling strange on his face. "I know that."

"And trying to understand everything just makes the world so much more complicated, doesn't it?"

Dark leapt upwards, wings blanketed by the silence of the night, disappearing from his view.

The game began.

He circled the stairwell cautiously, looking around for any sign of the kaitou--wings were really too much of an unfair advantage in a situation like this, Satoshi thought, stepping to the edge of the roof and peering over in futile hope.

He wondered for a moment if putting on his glasses would help any.

Probably not.

Satoshi made a few more half-hearted rounds about the rooftop, before finally giving up and coming to a halt, a few feet away from the edge of the building--he had never underestimated the Dark's ability to near disappear, if he didn't want to be found.

"Last I recalled, the /cat/ was the one that was supposed to chase its prey, Dark." the boy said aloud to empty air.

A feather drifted across his vision.

"The /cat/ is supposed to stalk its prey, unseen and unheard..." the familiar voice sounded from almost directly above his head, and he turned, looking up--only to see Dark perched /on/ the stairwell, meeting his gaze with amusement dancing in amber-red eyes.

"Until," the kaitou continued in his deep, languid drawl, "The object of its desire is off-guard, not watching, not noticing, distracted..."

"Then...

"It pounces--"

The kaitou's wings flared as he stepped off his perch, swooping downwards--

--Directly onto Satoshi.

They went over in a heap, tumbling in a parody of a child's innocent romp, With letting go of Dark before it, too, got lost in the tangle of limbs.

Dark cheated outrageously in the impromptu wrestling match that followed--although, it couldn't quite be considered cheating if there weren't any rules--but it was he who came out on top once they stopped, both breathing a little heavily.

The thief smirked mischievously up at him, and he wondered for a moment just /what/ Dark was planning, before a gloved hand snaked out, grabbed his wrist and /pulled/--

Pulled off balance, he fell, full-length, onto the kaitou, who promptly rolled to the side so that /he/ was on top, pinning him down so that Satoshi couldn't try the same trick, face barely inches from his own.

Their lips met.

It wasn't /much/, just an utterly accidental light brush which somehow caught and deepened, until he couldn't have pulled away even if the thought had crossed his mind to.

They broke off, looking at each other, still two statues under moonlight, one that spelled desire and one that complemented its verse...

The singing in his veins intensified, yet he wasn't afraid--because this had nothing to do with love or a red-haired boy with uncertain eyes--

Neither of them transformed.

He wasn't expecting to.

"You know," he said conversationally, "I don't hate you."

He paused.

"But I need you. And I hate needing you, but without you, I'm nothing--"

"You need me," Dark interrupted. "But the one you /want/ isn't me."

An unspoken 'and what do you think /I/ think about that?' drifted through the air, but he didn't remark upon it.

Clothes loosened by roaming hands, skin touching skin--he could feel the roughness of the floor digging into his back, even through his shirt, but somehow, he couldn't bring himself to mind.

"No, it isn't." he agreed. "But the one /you/ want, isn't me, either. I don't understand--"

"Didn't I tell you, Hiwatari-kun?"

"Trying to understand just makes everything so much more complicated."

They kissed again.

The game ended, and nobody knew who had won.

But neither of them cared, so it didn't matter.