Disclaimer: I and OnixTales don't own Pita-ten

Disclaimer: Misha12 and OnixTales don't own Pita-ten. We DO own the OC's which are: Marco García, Victor Sativa and all of background characters located in Tacubaya are property of OnixTales. Grace is property of Misha12. Angel is property of Sk8erGrl-chan.

Dear Reader: This is a story in which we do not treat Misha's comeback to Kotarou, but a another story that you might say is the events after two completely different fanfics: OnixTales's "The Night I Died" and Misha12's "Tsubasa Means Wings" and "Hello". Please refer to them if you want our explanation of the origins of Grace and how did Misha come back to Kotarou.

Without further ado, we begin this story.

Pink and Black

A Pita-Ten Fanfic.

A fanfic collaboration by: OnixTales and Misha12

-If you are about to loose your life, prove worthy of it...-

I-Wounded

Tacubaya, Mexico City.

A drowsy afternoon in the streets of Mexico City, just like any other March Afternoon settled. The busy streets crampling with cars, passersby and subway roads filled the atmosphere with filth. But it was no use complaining about it, since everyone had got already used to it. As the two-week holiday known as the Holy Week rushed, most of the workers were already pleading for a break and the students were already calling it quits. It was (and is) a much

awaited time of year, both for believers and nonbelievers. It is a time to spend with the family, party or go anywhere, just to get out of the ruckus of the great metropolis.

At High School no. 57, located just outside downtown, in the Tacubaya neighborhood; things weren't any different. The classrooms were bursting of restlessness, as for the Holy Week was still two weeks away. Everyone was willing to give up their life just to get out of the sock-smelling classroom, everyone but a gloomy and hunched figure in the back of classroom 13. The Holy Week for him had no special meaning or purpose for him: After all, he didn't had a family to spend it with, since his dad was agonizing on jail and his mother was always out with her friends; or place to go to, or friends to hang out with. In every way ever conceived, this boy was alone.

His name was Marco Garci­a. He was a tall 15-year old freshman, tanned, abundant jet-black hair, steely black eyes and always wore a brown jacket over his blue uniform shirt. He was always a little dirty from crossing a construction site to get to school. But the thing that distinguished him from the teeming teens was his pearly white scars streaking down his hands and face.

The scar on his face began on his forehead, crossed his left eye and finished in the middle of his left cheek, with a little branch. The scars on his hands ran down from his wrists to his hands, fingers and knuckles. 'Ring!' The teenage-humanity sea overflowed the outdoor halls of the school and headed towards the exit. Marco barely even noticed. He picked up his old leather bag (1) and calmly walked through the classroom door. Friday He thought ironically. Great. I've got to go to the car wash and then well, that's just about it, apart from doing the poll about our family. Ha, FAMILY. Marco crossed the big iron door and turned left. The street was deserted. Odd. Marco thought. It should be flooded with students right now. He stood still for a moment. Not a car horn sounded in the distance, nor he could hear the whisper of the leaves surrounding. It was this kind of silence that Marco liked; the only way his thoughts could thump his eardrum, but it was very odd it made him uneasy. This is too fishy. He thought.

"RUN!" Something called. Marco, caught unaware, turned to see what it had been. Again, he was alone. "RUN! FOR GOD'S SAKE, RUN!" He suddenly obeyed it, breaking off in a quick sprint. He had no idea why of from whom he was running, but one thing was for certain: He had to run.

Suddenly, a shot resounded into the distance. "GET HIM!" A voice shouted from behind him. Marco turned around. Three tattoo-covered (2) thugs were chasing after him, one with the smoking gun that had resounded just seconds ago, another one swinging a big chain, and the last one mustering a butcher knife. Marco suddenly was knocked down by another thug who had cut off his escape. They all grabbed him by his arms and legs, clenching him to stop struggling against them. The thugs threw Marco into an alley and left. Marco tried to stand up but was quickly thrown down by a person in front of him.

He looked up, trying to see through the blood sprouting from his forehead, and received another hit, this time in the eye. "You little bastard!" The person said. "I told if you refused to give me the answers to the stupid math test you would get a serious beating! What I'm supposed to tell my parents?! EH?! Alright, you sonuvabitch, time for daddy to spank the kid."

The person started to kick Marco, again and again and again as Marco bleed more and more, the person cackled more manically. "Ya stupid Victor." Marco panted "Why the Hell should I help you?"

"BECAUSE I SAID SO, ASS!" Victor shouted, enraged. He kicked Marco more, and more, and more. Marco felt a harder pain with each kick, he felt his life withering away, as every kick spurted him more and more blood.

As Victor got prepared to deliver his final and fatal kick, a blinding light flashed between the two of them. Marco rubbed his eyes with his mangled hands to see if he was hallucinating. At least the rubbing didn't do anything, since the light shone brighter and brighter. Victor, overwhelmed by an illogical fear and surprise, ran away.

For Marco, the light occupied the whole of his visual camp, and felt his consciousness fade away slowly, as his head touched the ground. But before he completely closed his eyes, he saw a glint of pink.

A few hours earlier in Heaven…

Grace stood, carefully and gracefully, in front of God. "Angel Grace," God spoke, "I've heard from both Misha and Angel (3)that you've done your job well, in both keeping Kotarou-kun sustained and bringing Angel happiness in order to keep the scale balanced." Grace took a deep bow, to show her respect for her creator and nodded her head. "There's no reason to be formal, Angel Grace."

Grace kept her head bowed. "I understand, my Lord in the highest, but I must show how much I respect the almighty Holy Spirit."

God chuckled. "I see. I cannot overlook your splendid job-"

"Please, my Lord," Grace lifted her head, her body still remained in her bowed position, "only your recognition is needed."

The Holy God continued. "I said that I cannot overlook this and so, you have a new assignment." Grace immediately flew up straight. "You're so eager, Angel Grace."

"Anything that I may help with, I will, but why not another angel?" The angel with knee-length pink hair and sliver, rosy eyes inquired.

God seemed to smile. "I feel you, Angel Grace, may be one of the two angels that might be able to accomplish this job."

Grace moved her hands as if she was giving God her heart. "But…the other angel?"

"The other angel is Angel Misha, but I asked her and she refused." God appeared to be slightly upset.

"Why in Heaven's light would she do a thing like that?!" Grace had clearly forgotten her ideal appearance, to seem as if she was one of the more refined angels.

God laughed. "Angel Misha turned down her assignment in order to stay by Kotarou-kun's side."

Grace thought; she needed a moment to mull things over in her head. "…That's just like her…" She groaned as God chuckled once more. "May I inquire to what the job is?"

"Yes, your next assignment is to make this boy, Marco, in Mexico City, happy. I must stress this might not be an easy feat." God spoke as Grace's wings stopped flapping and caused her to fall.

"OOF! Oh, I forgot it wouldn't hurt. Thank you, Lord, for creating clouds." Grace thanked God and stood up again. "I will accept this job, and succeed." Right before Grace flew away; she stopped and asked yet another question. "Lord in the highest, is there a time limit?"

"Oh, yes, I nearly forgot about that. You are to make him happy before he dies." God put this in such a pleasant way, it sounded like he was already dead!

"Um, n-no offence, but," She rubbed the back of her head, "when is this kid gonna die?"

"I'm afraid that he'll be dead in a few months." The Lord spoke and motioned for Grace to start her job. "Go, Angel Grace, I'll be watching. And remember, ifyou are abouttolooseyourlife, thenproveworthyofit."

'…If you are about to loose your life…' Grace repeated in her head. Sometimes, God subtly freaks me out. With her deep bow, Grace departed to Japan, to tell Misha her news. "Yes, my almighty Holy Spirit, I shall take my leave."

Tokyo, Japan. Kotarou and Misha's School.

Kotarou was staring blankly out the window, again, while Misha was making her way up to Kotarou's classroom from the outside. Another math question was answered and Misha appeared. "Hiya, Kotarou-kuns, su!" She smiled her signature grin.

"Misha!" He stood up and helped her into the classroom.

The teacher turned and sighed. "Off to your class, Misha-san."

"Oh, sorry, worrys, su." She giggled. "I'll be off, den! SU!" Right before Misha was out the window; Grace appeared, translucent, so that only Misha and Kotarou could see her. "Unyah! Gracy wace!" Misha ran over to the wall. "Hiya, su! Wat's uppy?" She smiled.

"Misha…You and Kotarou-kun are the only two that can see me. Right now, you look like a retard." Grace spat. "Oh and why didn't you take that job?!"

"Unyah? …Mexicos?" Misha stared blankly.

"Yeah, Mexico. That kid is gonna die soon and you didn't want to make him happy?" Grace pointed her hands in all directions.

Misha pointed towards Kotarou. "Nuh uh, Kotarou-kun needs me more. Besides, I know you can do it, Gracy, su." She smiled.

This caused the translucent angel to smile. "Alright, HEY!" Grace shouted at Kotarou. "Yeah, purple-top, I'm talkin' to ya! You're lucky that Misha is staying by your side instead of taking God's assignment that was bestowed on her!"

"…What?" Kotarou asked, and stared blankly as well.

Grace sighed. "Nevermind, I'm already due in Mexico. Maybe Misha can explain it to you. Bye, girl. See ya, squirt." She winked and disappeared.

"Um, Kotarou-san, Misha-san, do you two need to go to the clinic?" The teacher asked hesitantly. Kotarou and Misha shook their heads quickly and continued class.

The skies above Tacubaya, MexicoCity.

Grace took her time flying to Mexico, she stopped and examined a few countries and states along the way and rested on her favorite cloud areas. I really shouldn't slack off, but a job is so difficult and this one sounds impossible! Misha was able to take care of some kid's happiness in less than a year, but me? Oh, ho, I cannot do as well! AND I ONLY HAVE A FEW MONTHS! Grace stared down at Mexico and sighed. "Which is why I should go and start now. But first," She lay back again and flipped out a keyboard with a screen that appeared out of thin air, "let's check on my client."

Grace inspected the area around Marco and noticed that there were bullies with weapons! "Oh, Mon Dieu…" (4) She waited to see what Marco would do. "…He's not doing anything…" Worry started to well up inside of Grace. "RUN!" She shouted at the screen, but Marco only glanced around. I DIDN'T SAY STOP! "RUN! FOR GOD'S SAKE, RUN!" Marco ran and he ran FAST! Grace stared, dumbfounded. "…He really did run. Crap! They're catching up!" She watched the torture begin and couldn't bear it. "ARGH!" Grace yelled, overwhelmed by the human nature, and slammed her keyboard into the cloud.

It disappeared. "I CAN'T STAND THIS!" She dove into the atmosphere and conjured up her holy power and created a booming light, of course, it was a light shade of pink. Grace glanced around; her client was there in front of her, unconscious. The bullies had run off. She sighed. "At least I was able to save him before he actually died. I'd hate to explain something like that to God." Grace bent down, her angel wings diminished and her heavenly clothes turned to a pastel pink tee-shirt and jeans. She placed her hand on his head and rubbed it. Sorry, kid. I'm really sorry about my stupid little break. "I'm a sucky angel."

Grace looked over her new client and noticed his scars. "Geez, kid, what have you been doing?" She glanced in the direction the thugs ran off. "I suppose maybe they did it, huh?" Grace stared back at Marco. You know…despite the scars…you're kind of cute. She smiled. "Well," She stood up and attempted to carry Marco while flying, "I suppose it's time for me to find an apartment around here and maybe bribe your principle to let me transfer into your school." She smirked. "That'll be simple." I'll use either magic…or my little bag of tortures. Grace's smirk turned into a smile as she flew off, high into the sky.

High she did intend to fly, but Marco was too heavy for her. For a slim guy, he's really heavy. I'll just have to do lifting spell and a chameleon spell on him. I'd hate explaining God how fifteen hundred people saw a guy floating unconsciously in midair. So she did. As Grace flew freely across the skies of her "ground zero", she could see the environment she was to work on: It was a sloppy, deteriorated neighborhood; that had signs that it was great and blooming with activity in a faraway time. The windows of the dingy apartment buildings that piled one over the other over the other had prison-like bars on them, entrapping its inhabitants in a false sense of security.

Graffiti made a tapestry to red brick and asphalt walls, preceded with narrow streets covered of mud holes and smelly sewers. She could see the rooftops, coveted with pigeon poop and clothes put to the sun to dry, as well as massive publicity signs that were as big as the building beneath them. On the streets, the invading flea markets that sold counterfeit goods, pirated records and home-made pornographic movies burst the air with high volume 'Banda' music that distorted the air and started to annoy Grace. The people that had beat Marco to death were smoking pot in a corner, whistling at passerby girls and making sexual remarks at them. Grace's eye twitched in disgust. "H-how the-WHAT THE HELL!? Those bastards!" She saw an extremely immature gesture that came from Victor. "Oh, they are SO not going to Heaven, now. Not if I have anything to say about it!" Grace mumbled more cusses and shot more grimaces in the thugs' direction, even if they couldn't see her.

The buildings surrounding her looked as if they could collapse with a cough. The place was indeed sad and hopeless. This was the neighborhood of Tacubaya. Good Lord on high, I'd never dreamed of doing anything in Mexico. I wouldn't mind France, but Mexico. This looks like a dangerous area, hence my client's scars. I'll have to land sometime… "I guess I'll be on my way." Grace muttered, as she flew gently towards a very deteriorated building which Marco's name tag implied it was his home.

(1): It had been with him through all elementary.

(2): OO …I do not want to imagine that. Btw, OnixTales wrote the first part of the chapter. I wrote the second part. Aside from that, Onix, how the Hell did this kid get a gun!?

OnixTales: THEY DON'T HAVE TO BE KIDS. They are average drug-dealing thugs.

M-12: Oops, mymistake…sorry. ;

(3): Angel is Sk8erGrl-chan's OC not mine, Angel starred in my fic Tsubasa Means Wings.

(4): Mon dieu means My God on French. XP