DISCLAIMERS: I don't own DNAngel, or anything else. Understood? I'm sure you do... and, no, I don't own my brain either. It owns me.

WARNINGS: Uh... evil to such well-loved characters. That's all.

--- Darkened Heart ---

--- 1 ---

The street was strangely quiet as the last residents flicked the light switches off and retreated for the night. All around it, dim lights were fading, and only a small breeze picked up, blowing through the deserted streets as a single person made their way through the darkening streets.

A young boy, only about the age of fourteen, could be see running, his feet thudding against the concrete below him, and his sharp, ragged gasps for breath cutting through the oppressed silence sharply, with no consideration of where he was going or who he was running to. The smell of smoke made him choke slightly, but he couldn't stop, and he knew it, but the realisation of the truth made tears of fear and frustration form at the corners of his strangely bright amber eyes.

He had no one to turn to, no one to seek comfort from anymore, and he knew that it was his fault that the last members of his family were now dead – forever gone from his life and leaving him to defend for himself. Only one member that was related to him by blood remained, and, he too, was gone: running away from the very same people who were chasing him at the same time. But he would never forget such a name – Dark.

Somehow the name had burned itself into his mind, and it was enough to encourage him to fight the fate that had been set for him:

Death.

Somehow it had seemed absurd at first, and he didn't want to think about it, but his family had comforted him, told him that everything would be fine, and that he would never be alone. He hated them, for their broken promises:

For leaving him on his own.

Tears splattered on the hardened footpath as he continued to run through the darkness blindly, not stopping for anything, the truth putting more than fear in his heart than anything else. His left arm hung limply by his side, and he winced as pain lanced through it each time it was moved slightly. He had broken it from his most recent escape, and, silently, he cursed himself for being so clumsy.

"You always have to be ready for the unexpected, and you know it. You've got good balance, so make sure you know how to deal with it..."

The words were so clear to him, said by Dark himself, and the small boy shook his head. He had broken his arm in an attempt to stop his whole body from shattering at the massive five-floor drop, but now it was useless. His blood red hair swept unconsciously across his eyes, which stung with pain as the breeze continued to blow past him, whipping his face and screaming in his ears.

Trying his best to ignore it, he concentrated on running, although his legs were beginning to tire and the muscles were begging for rest. But still, he continued, well aware that his very survival was counted on him covering as much distance between him and those who wanted to kill him.

As he forced his weary body to drag him through the deserted streets, his mind began to wander - back to the past. It was all so clear to him; when his parents had been with him, when he'd been under the training eye of his older cousin, Dark, and when he hadn't had worried about his life being on the line.

But it had been the past, and now, he had nothing left.

"You have speed and determination, I can see that. Use it to your advantage, 'cause very few kids your age have it. It's a rare gift."

He gasped as Dark's words came back to him. His knees were shaking below him, and he knew that he couldn't take it any longer. Collapsing slightly, he tried to regain his regular breathing pattern, his lungs straining for air.

The words had been so clear, yet it had been months since he'd seen Dark's face: flawless, full of confidence and his eyes, usually so warm beneath the usual mockery as he had always berated the smaller boy, and a kinship between them, although they were complete opposites.

As his mind flew back to the past, the past he had tried to seal away so long ago, warm faces of his parents, and grandparents, came back to him.

His mother, father and grandfather. They were so close in his mind – so clear – yet so far. But he knew the reality – they were gone, dead, and no amount of dreaming would bring them back. There was no way to erase the past, and now his own hands held the evidence.

He carried the blood. A blood feared by many normal people, and that was the reason they wanted to kill him. His parents had known it, yet they had kept it hidden from him until his fourteenth birthday.

He hated them for it. And still, he yearned for them, to hold him close, to comfort him, to protect him from the awful reality that had descended upon him. But their last words, before their death, still burned in his mind, and, he could almost feel them, their warmth; warmth he hadn't felt for a long time.

"We love you... never forget that, Dai-chan..."

"You have to live, for our sake, Daisuke, and prove to them that what you hold isn't wrong for mankind..."

"We'll always watch over you, no matter what. So... make us proud... Daisuke..."

Tears streaked his cheeks, as they fell unconsciously, and he shook his head violently, trying to let the feeling go – the feeling of need and want. He didn't need them, he'd lost everything already, and the reality stung him sharply in his heart.

He staggered up, trying to ignore the warm blood that fell freely from his broken arm and knees from the constant running. He had no one to turn to anymore, for he knew that his very presence with another person would lead to their death as well as his own pain. When it had first happened, a weight fell upon him sharply, crushing him, and now he knew that he couldn't turn to anyone for help, or comfort.

Doing so would lead to their death.

As he continued through the night, faces of people he had loved and cared for – friends and family – flashed out to him: his mother and father, grandfather, Dark, Takeshi, Riku and Risa...

He forced himself to swallow, the lump in his throat becoming unbearably large as the memory of all the people he'd been forced to leave hit him with the constant knowledge of his own doom.

He was alone. He couldn't turn to anyone for help. Doing so would kill them.

"Pst. Yo, Daisuke, I'm here to help you. Come on, we'll get outta this hell-hole before they get ya again."

Again, Dark's voice came back to him, and he flinched as another lance of sharp pain went through his weary body. The confidence that the purple-haired boy had possessed was so strong and full of unbound energy and trust, and he couldn't understand how it was possible. So many times, already, had Dark saved him from the fate he would have to face in the end, but the last time, he'd been found out, and now, he too, was being chased.

"... everyone..."

The last strands of energy in his body slowly faded away from him, and he no longer could take control over his body. As his legs staggered aimlessly through the darkness, he focused his attention towards the darkened sky. The moon was shimmering gently, through the thick sheet of cloud, and his eyes began to fill with pain and agony again as he collapsed on the cold floor.

"... all of you... you helped me... and you died... because they were chasing me..."

Blood splattered across the concrete, leaving thick patches of the red liquid on the stone, as his amber eyes allowed the tears to flow freely. His hair ruffled gently with the wind, and his whole body lanced with the pain that he had suffered over the last few weeks.

"... and still, you helped me... I hate you for that... I really do..."

The rising pitch of his voice was swept away by the gentle breeze, as sobs racked his entire body at what he was forced to face.

"... why didn't you just leave me alone to die? Why did you make me suffer like this? Why?"

As weariness took over his body completely, he could almost feel the compassion of all the people he had met and been with. Their words flowed through his mind, cutting through the pain and hate he had inside of him.

"Hey, friends stick together, don't they, Daisuke?"

"Niwa-kun... we'll always be there to support you. Okay?"

"Ne? Niwa-kun, don't you trust us as friends?"

"Even if you're the only one to hold the blood, Dai-chan, we'll do whatever we can to make sure you can live a life where you don't have to fear about what people think of you."

"You're bravery will take you far, son."

"Don't forget, Dark's still with you, and we're always watching over you."

"Yo, Daisuke, don't forget what I said. Hope the training helps ya 'till we meet again."

"Everyone..." he whispered weakly, "why..."

As the world went black, something within him woke up – a small flame: comforting, caring and full of life, telling him not to give up.

(You have people who care for you. Let your flame grow and flourish. Don't let it die. Live a life that you won't regret.)

"... won't..."

As the clouds parted, revealing the moon: a single figure remained out on the cold street, surrounded by his own blood, and unmoving.

And still, he remained breathing.

The flame of Niwa Daisuke continued to grow, fighting against the fate that had been placed upon him, and encouraging the small boy to do the same.

A gentle breeze ruffled his hair, as raindrops slowly began to fall upon his weary form. As the rain increased, the repetitive pattering sound was cut short by the sound of approaching footsteps.

Someone was coming.

----

Well, it was supposed to be a one-shot, but that depends if anyone wants me to continue, right? I have to plan it anyway. The main story was kinda taken off Kittiquin's "Blood" story, so that's why I'm being so cruel to our dear Daisuke (Blood is in Fictionpress, so if you like vampire stories, read it. It's scarily good, even for a prototype). It could have been from that nightmare he has in volume 4, but that's no fun. I think I'm on a violent streak or something. Well... that's it.

Oh, no flames, please. They burn, and besides, it was intentional to hurt Daisuke. Even I thought I was going crazy doing what I did. I'll be kind to him in later chaps if I continue it, but that's your choice. And, no, he isn't dead. I'm not that heartless. And I thought it'd be better to make them cousins, although they could just be friends. What do you think? I think Dark isn't... well, Dark. Or something.

What would we call this... cliffhanger? Is it? Nevermind, it's all here! Hope you enjoyed it!