Aki: This piece may seem a bit...weird, but maybe some of that is because it was actually a paper I had to write for English class. Anyway, on to warnings. There isn't really much to warn about, exept that there's a bit of implied shonen-ai if you squint. (Then again, it wouldn't be DNAngel if it didn't have implied shonen-ai...)

Disclaimer: Aki Kaminari does not own DNAngel. She does, however, own a sketchbook and a set of oil pastels.

Linked Chains

I stared at the empty white space before me. It was almost blinding, how bright it seemed in the dim light of my house in the late hours of the night. It seemed to be screaming at me, as if something existing as such a pure color could be in such agony.

It was driving me insane.

I reached into my schoolbag and pulled out the first pencil I could find. I had to fill it. I had to fill the void of its existence. My pencil moved vigorously across the space, the countless rough lines coming together to form an outline. Before long, figures emerged out of the confusion. I spun the pencil around, thinning out the lines I would use, and erasing the lines I wouldn't.

I backed up for a moment, surveying my work, and used that time to wipe the sweat from my hands, to reduce the risk of smearing the sketch. What should I use to color this? Colored pencils? Oil pastels? Paint? It occurred to me that oil pastels would achieve the desired effect. After retrieving them from the clutter in my room, I began with the lightest color I would use, white. Its usage was brief, only filling in the spots that would need to be highlighted. Next was a light blue, the color rivaling that of a clear sky. A pale, flesh-like color followed soon after. Red was next. This was the color found in a perfect sunset. I felt my heartbeat increase as red and blue merged together into sweet oblivion. This artwork was showing emotion. Emotion, of course, was evidence of life. To be able to capture life in a piece of art was a goal of many artists preceding myself.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts, realizing that I had spaced out for quite some time. Taking a deep breath, I reached for the yellow. This hue swirled around blue, but not close enough to blend into green. Its opposite, violet, followed soon after. It fringed and ghosted over red, the two combining until the line between them became indiscernible. The next shade was a pink that reminded me of cherry blossoms, to the point that I could almost smell their sweet scent. This color danced lightly over a few chosen areas, then was put away, to be replaced by a deep blue that bore a striking similarity to the immeasurable depths of the ocean. Before I realized it, the hypnotizing shade had outlined and spread out from all that came before it.

It was beautiful.

Beautiful, but still not enough. It was almost as if I could hear the artwork calling to me, wanting. My eyes scanned over the pallet of colors that were spread out before me. Almost thoughtlessly, I reached for the final color. This would be the end. I swallowed hard and applied the last few strokes. The blue I had used before darkened as it neared the edges of the paper before it finally faded into darkness. I felt a smile tug at my lips.

I laid back on the couch, exhausted. For a while I just focused my strained eyes on the ceiling, slowly allowing myself to return to reality. Silence reigned in the room, save for the humming sound of the computer near me. A voice in my mind broke the tension.

"What will this piece be called?" the voice asked.

I tiredly lifted my head off of the armrest of the couch to survey the drawing. I found myself smiling again. "Linked Chains," I said aloud. It didn't matter if no one else understood the meaning behind those words. All that mattered was that they meant something to me. These were the last thoughts I had before sleep overcame my senses.

Aki: And that's it! So, what did you think? I originally intended for it to be in Satoshi's P.O.V., but now that I look back on it, I suppose Daisuke could be doing this sort of thing as well. Honestly, I don't even know myself who it's supposed to be, and I'm the one who wrote it.