Pairings: DarkKrad, DaisukeSatoshi (more friends than lovers…they're fourteen for crying out loud.)

I HAVE read the manga and I have seen the anime, but this is kinda a little twist of mine. Also, I WILL NOT put honorifics and random ass Japanese words…it looks friggin tacky and I wish people wouldn't do that so often.

Please read authors note following this!

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'Big brother…your artworks are so beautiful…paint me a picture, please?'

The Angel's Façade
Ch. Zero

Several deft fingers worked in a synchronized rhythm despite the lack of light to aid in the coordination with the owner's eyes. There was no dire need for vision when it was such an easy, well performed task. A lock…a pick…and an opened door. A simple, unremarkable habit really. A thief by well practiced expertise, there was no obstacle the self proclaimed thieving master could not get around. This time, however, the thief was greatly unsettled and this simple task, though mundane and thoughtless, aroused an irritation in him that was unexplainable for what he was doing.

The object of desire was not a painting, nor a sculpture as it usually was. This time, it was a book. A plain, unremarkable book from what he gathered. He knew that art was not subject to be only painting and sculptures…but a simple book. Where could the value in such a thing lie? Yes, there were some books that were worth a ridiculous bit…the note books of Da Vinci, for instance. This though, wasn't even a work that was proudly featured in a museum. Nor was it in a priceless gallery or library. This was in an old mansion. To be more correct, and abandoned old mansion.

'Dark, there isn't anyone around, so what's wrong?' A soft voice called from within the mind of the thief.

'Nothing, Daisuke.' He answered, not dishonestly, but not expressing his slight of tension. A book. What could be so special about a book that he had to steal it from an abandoned house? He planned to find out and hoped it would satisfy his questions. Albeit, he could never tell Daisuke they were standing in the main foyer of the old Hikari house. The boy would without a doubt flip out with either ecstatic amazement or intense paranoia. All of his bets were on the latter.

'Let's just go already, this place is freaking me out. I keep hearing voices.'

This statement drew Dark to a complete stop and he uttered a verbal, "Oh?" He looked around cautiously. He had heard nothing but disdainful silence as he stalked the empty building that he remembered as being so full of life. Somehow, he knew this place so well but for the life of him he could not remember the circumstances of being in the Hikari household. It was all faded out, whether intentionally or unintentionally, he probably would never know.

'Yeah, I keep hearing whispers. The last one was someone talking to their brother…it was too soft to hear most of the words, but they said brother, that much I'm sure.'

'Well how come you hear it but I didn't?' The elder being frowned with dismay. He didn't like being in the outer part of a suspicious activity and to have to have it relayed to him through Daisuke as a medium aggravated him. He liked to be in total control of the situation and that usually happened as long as Hiwatari didn't show up.

'I don't know, but it's stopped. Hey, there's the door with the white wings on it.' Daisuke announced, looking through his eyes in an off manner, while Dark controlled the major functions of their shared body.

"White wings huh?" Dark ran a single hand over the engraved decoration on the door. It was painted tenderly to look soft, but the dark wood that held the paint was just as dead and lifeless as the rest of the house. Time had turned the Hikari's beautiful home into a desolate graveyard for unwanted cast away art pieces and apparently worthless books. "Those usually spell bad things." He muttered aloud. He was no longer worried about there being someone to stop him. Not even the one being he was reminded of when he looked at the white wings on the door.

'Strange to hear someone say that…angel wings are usually white and angels are symbols of hope and peace.' Daisuke added, hearing his counterpart clearly.

'Yeah, well tell that to Krad, he doesn't seem to get that, what with being the Angel and all.' Dark snorted mentally. He pushed the unlatched door open and allowed a moment for the dust to settle before he pressed on, ignoring the webs and dirt that stirred from the unusual movement in the abandoned home.

'You think about him quite often, Dark,' the inner voice spoke and Dark immediately reacted in a showy repulsed manner.

'I do not think about that parasite a lot!' He couldn't say that his younger host's words were completely wrong. He was justified in wondering a bit, but that was to be expected when the past was fuzzy and the gold and white angel hated him with every fiber of his artistically created being. He didn't suspect there would be any real reason to know…but he was curious and curiosity needed to be sated before he would stop questioning it.

He knew who he himself was, but he didn't know who his other half was. This was the only real way to find out. He mused to himself. Daisuke didn't know they were in the Hikari mansion…Daisuke didn't know that he was looking for an unremarkable book created by one of the earliest Hikaris. Daisuke didn't know that Dark's reasons had nothing to do with value or a crazed artwork. This was for a completely different reason. He had sent no warning note…He had not told Daisuke's mother. He had not mentioned a thing to Hiwatari like he usually did, regarding the young officer with a casual taunt. This was his personal quest.

He slowly stalked to the vast bookshelf. He knew the book's design by heart. It was a black leather bind with gingerly painted gold on the trim and on the side. A skewed pair of wings would be outlined in gold on the spin-edge of the book and it would have unlined pages, many probably still blank but yellowing from age. He personally loved the color gold on a black surface. It made such an item look classically sophisticated to him.

Thumbing through the other, useless, books that were neither completed nor originals, he wondered exactly what was within the book that he needed to find it so badly. He had pictured it perfectly in his mind. It was clear as a bell on a crisp cloudless day. But he knew nothing of it and nothing of what it contained. All he knew is that when he thought of the demonic Holy looking beast that acted as his other half, he picture this book in his mind. It was not unremarkable in comparison to everything else he stole. Just a plain book. No value in it. So why? Why had this vision of this book, with a black face, a gold trim and blank pages seem like it was the beginning and end of the world as he should have felt it.

Finally, he picked the black book from the shelf. The spine held no written clue as to what it was, but with a quick skim through the majority of the book, it was clear to him then that this was not a novel, or a diary as he originally thought, but a lyric book with melodies and music sheets drawn and written into it. The handwriting itself was extraordinary. It was so fluid and clear. The person who wrote it was very much educated, leaving many well thought out personal notes in the margin of the pieces being written.

So it was true. All of the Hikaris were artists in some way or another.

'Dark?' Daisuke's voice broke his gentle concentration.

'Hm?'

'How old is this book?' He asked curiously. Dark had wondered the same thing for a fleeting instant.

'Let me check the front pages.' He replied and turned the book to the first page. He scanned the words, written so neatly it was almost inhuman.

'Wow, that's a long time ago, this book is over four hundred years old, Dark!' Daisuke announced, seeing through the same eyes Dark was seeing through, but the book suddenly seemed farther away to him as the seconds of Dark's silence passed. Daisuke would have jumped in his own body once the echoing thud crashed through the silence of the room.

'Dark? What's wrong?'

'…I'm…I'm…I'm very confused now.' Those eyes would have revealed that to any onlooker. The book at dropped from his surprised fingers. He cursed himself for his lack of control, but even as he stared down at the open cover, revealing the plainness of the front written page…he couldn't fathom the relevance in this…it was far to unbelievable to be true and as such how could it be relevant? But the test of time told all the truths and staring down at his worst fear that he had to own up to the fact that there was something there.

The ache in his very soul and longing in his heart had not been phantom. There actually had been a side to that man before he went psychotic.

'Dark? Dark! Tell me what's wrong!'

"The author….the author's name…"

'What is it? I can't see it anymore.'

"It's Krad. Krad Hikari."

To be Continued…

Okay, so I've slightly changed my mind, but I have decided I will post my chapters after I've thoroughly scanned them over. Originally I was just going to take this down after a found a beta or two to help me keep this story in check. But I've already posted it and might as well leave it. So if you'd like to help me Beta it (which means you'll be cued in on plot points and given previews and chapters before I post them, please leave a review or PM me!