These Paper Walls: Chapter One
Author: Violet Garnets
Rating: T
Warnings: Shounen-ai, language, partial OOC, Alternate Universe, un-betaed
Disclaimer: I have no rights to DNAngel, and am not profiting off of this piece in any way.
Summary: Dark's attending college, stealing knickknacks, avoiding student board member Satoshi, and trying to figure out what his old friend Daisuke is to him. But when Daisuke's estranged mother shows up, Daisuke becomes distant and angry, and Dark is at a loss of what to do. As requested by animehpgurl.
--
Daisuke Niwa bit his lip, staring blankly at the almost blank word document in front of him. It was one in the morning and he had roughly seven hours before his paper on the death of Impressionism was due. So far, he had formulated a rough introduction and the bare skeletons of the body paragraphs, with a very smooth conclusion. Conclusions were always so simple. Everything else before it was difficult.
The material was scattered across the room, everywhere, and it was a wonder anyone could navigate through the mounds of textbooks and articles. Daisuke's bed happened to be the most flooded, as that was where he was currently working on his laptop.
The rhythmic thudding of heavy bass lines shook the walls of his room. Lively shouts of laughter followed. God, living in a dorm was such a pain sometimes. Daisuke attempted to focus, but realized he had nothing to focus on anyway.
Unexpectedly, the door burst open with a bang. The redhead nearly fell out of his bed in surprise, but clung onto the sheets just before he fell over.
"I'm back! Did I wake you up?"
Daisuke tried very, very hard not to roll his eyes. He did so anyway though. The temptation was too hard to resist. "Actually, you didn't," he responded smoothly.
Dark's face fell. "Damn, I was hoping to bother the hell out of you. Shame you missed the party, Dai. There were quite a number of good-lookers out there. We could have gone scouting together!" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Scarlet eyes remained focused on the screen. "Well, I didn't miss the playlist," referring to the loud music still playing.
The violet-haired man laughed and jumped onto his roommate's bed. "How's the paper going?" he inquired as he settled into a comfortable position, lying down.
"Badly. There's still some crucial information I'm missing—"
"Crucial? Daisuke, no one uses that word anymore." Dark received a sharp stare, so he augmented his response. "But that just shows that you're quite intelligent! So that's exactly why you've done squat on your essay!"
Daisuke simply blushed and pouted fiercely. Dark chuckled and ruffled the other's unruly red hair.
"Hey, I've got an idea. Your mother knows a lot about this kind of—"
"How about not?"
"But—"
"No! You know what, just forget it." Daisuke shifted so he faced the corner of the room, away from Dark. "Why don't you just go back to that party?" he added childishly.
Dark held back a sigh. Clapping his hand on his friend's shoulder, he tried to apologize. "Okay, I'm sorry for pushing it. Do you want some help with your paper?"
Daisuke shrugged. "I guess that would be nice."
Violet brows relaxed from a tightly knit position, and the man smiled softly— if a bit bitterly as well. Although he knew Daisuke considered him to be like his best friend, this was one thing Dark had always been kept out of. He only knew that Daisuke had not spoken a word to his mother since his sophomore year of high school, but the younger one would never tell him exactly why.
"Hey, you hungry? We should go get something to eat," Dark himself was starting to feel the tolls of dancing and partying for hours on end.
Daisuke looked tempted. But finally he gave his answer. "Dark, not everyone is nocturnal. There's nothing open now at—" He looked over at the digital clock on the nightstand. "—1:30 in the morning. Besides, I wouldn't have time anyway. Paper, remember?" He gestured to the laptop.
His purple-eyed companion gave no response but simply walked out the door. The redhead was thoroughly perplexed, and also quite worried. Dark's sporadic tendencies usually ended up the same way. He turned his attention back to the screen for the moment. He already knew the outcome, so why worry?
Daisuke managed to fine-tune his essay a substantial amount when Dark came back in an hour later. The dorm had finally calmed down, and only the quiet humming of the computer could be heard.
Dark came in, looking triumphant. Daisuke's eyes nearly dropped out when he saw the festively colored bags the other had in his hands.
"You didn't."
"I did!" Dark plopped himself onto the bed and pulled out a delicately crafted pastry from the bag. "Danish?" He stuck it out in offering.
Daisuke brought up his hands to grab at the ends of his flaming bright hair. "I'm going to get fired if you keep stealing from there!"
"Not if you pay for it later," Dark trilled, his face impish.
"Well, you're going to run me into debt then." But pale hands took the Danish anyway and he nibbled on an end. It was lemon, his favorite. He smiled a little. Dark always knew how to cheer him up. "Could you pass me that textbook by the window there? I need to cite this one piece of my essay, and then I'm essentially done."
"Sure," Dark mumbled, his mouth full of cheese Danish goodness. He extended his body across, grabbed the book, and then came back to give it to Daisuke.
Vermilion eyes looked at the crumbs on his textbook disdainfully. "Thanks, Dark, for the added gift."
If Dark noticed the sarcasm, he took no heed of it. "No problem." His eyes remained on the window, squinted. "Hey, is it snowing?" He crawled over to the window, pressed closely against the glass. "It is! Hey, Dai, come on over and see!"
Daisuke felt a bit childlike, but couldn't resist. Snow was his favorite kind of weather. And staring at the computer too long was making his eyes prickle anyway. He joined his friend at the window. It was dark out, but under the various lights on the pathway, little flakes were drifting to the ground.
Smiles broke out on both of their faces.
"Do you think we'll have a lot by the morning?" Daisuke whispered, as if speaking at a normal volume would disturb the falling snow.
"I think so," Dark whispered back. "We should probably go to bed now. Falling asleep during class wouldn't be a good idea for you, and I plan on ditching class to make some forts."
The redhead giggled. "You're so childish."
"You know you'll want to join me."
Daisuke agreed, just not verbally. "Good night, Dark." He walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth and change.
"Night." Violet locks disappeared under a comforter. Crimson eyes lit up in the dark, smiling.
--
Daisuke pulled the stack of papers and dropped his essay onto the teacher's desk as he passed it, sighing with relief. It was like a weight dropped off of his chest. He knew he wouldn't get particularly high marks for something he threw together at the last minute, but fortunately it wouldn't be a huge part of his final grade.
His vermilion eyes scanned the room, searching, as he pulled off his gloves and shoved them in his coat pocket. Finally, he found him. Satoshi Hiwatari, Daisuke's best friend (although sometimes it didn't seem to be that way), sat in the corner nearest the wall of windows. It was the prime spot for daydreaming or slumping downwards and taking a nap, quite coveted by all the students. But no one was idiotic enough to challenge Satoshi for something trivial like a seat. Actually, no one even dared to ever challenge Satoshi at all.
The young man's brilliant ice-blue hair was typically easy to spot, but today it was covered by a black winter hat. Satoshi was looking outside, captivated by the falling snow, although it seemed like he was merely gazing disinterestedly.
Daisuke approached his friend with a smile. "Morning, Hiwatari-kun!" he chirped.
Satoshi pulled his eyes away from the windows to his friend for a moment, then turned back towards the window. "I was wondering when you'd get here."
"Ah, sorry about that. I stayed up all night working on the essay," the redhead chuckled sheepishly.
"Did you finish?"
Daisuke began to nod, but realized Satoshi was still looking at the snow outside. "Yeah, around two last night. So it wasn't an all-nighter."
"You're lucky Takarada-sensei isn't here yet."
"Yeah." Knowing the conversation was finished, Daisuke sat down and followed Satoshi's example, watching the drifting snow.
But it was only for a few moments, as their professor walked into the class looking disheveled and very cold. "Morning, everyone!" She trilled happily despite her shivering.
The class responded with a "Good morning!" in unison, although the tone in which they said the greeting varied. Daisuke's happened to be quite chipper. Satoshi, predictably enough, said nothing.
"I hope you all have turned in your essays."
Again, the class answered with a resounding "yes".
The teacher smiled. "Oh, I have such a lovely class, don't I?"
Emboldened by the flattery, a student a few easels away from Daisuke ventured a question. "Since we're so lovely, can we skip class?"
She laughed lightly and said with a cheerful lilt, "Are you crazy? Of course not." Before the class had a chance to hem and haw as they usually did, she jumped right into their next lesson. "Now that we have discussed Seurat's famous style of divisionism, I'd like to try mimicking his style so that we get a firmer grasp on how this style works and appeals to the eye. It's free on topic, so please get to work!"
"Yes, ma'am," they all replied, quietly surprised that their professor allowed them to head straight to painting. Typically, a few sketching sessions foreshadowed any chance for any other medium. Perhaps she was in a good mood.
For some reason, this art class always seemed to be in perfect unison when addressing their teacher. They really only diverged when creating their own artwork. Some students were spontaneous and capricious, doing whatever came to them. Others began aimlessly, and worked until something came to them. Then they would simply go over what they had done and push on with their new idea.
Daisuke supposed he was one of the more spontaneous ones. But he really did like to sit for a few minutes in silence first, taking in and absorbing his surroundings before beginning. It helped him convey the feelings he wanted to share, somehow.
Oddly enough, Daisuke thought that his friend was far more impulsive. He always began immediately, and paint flew across the canvas at rapid-fire speeds. Of course, he knew Satoshi planned everything out methodically and intentionally, but it was at such high velocity that it had to be called instinct more than deliberation.
This time, though, Satoshi seemed to have a problem tackling this style. He stared at the blank canvas looking disinterested. Daisuke knew better than to call it disinterested though. Satoshi was obviously upset with his inability to get going quickly.
"Too many things to think about," the blue-haired man muttered darkly.
Daisuke shrugged. "Then don't think about it. You always do fine anyway." Without another word, Daisuke picked a tube of orange from the shelf behind him and began to work. He knew Satoshi would chew on his words for a bit, and then follow the advice. Somehow their friendship just seemed to work out well that way.
Sure enough, he heard Satoshi shuffle around, most likely grabbing his paint supplies as well. With a small smile, Daisuke continued onwards, the image of two hands clasped together tightly enticing him.
A while later, when they were finishing up, Daisuke smiled as he appraised his progress. It was the first time in a while that he was satisfied with his artwork. There was something about the concise, repetitive motions of the brush going from palette to canvas that… appealed. Of course, he loved the smooth and arcing movements of his normal style, but it felt nice to stray from the norm every once in a while.
He didn't even feel the typical envy and self-disappointment when he looked over at Satoshi's painting. Of course, the way Satoshi managed to make the thousands of thousands of disconnected paint blobs look like they were a single entity was awe-inspiring and expected. The image of a waterfall made of snowflakes made everyone glance at the blue-haired man with barely disguised jealousy. But Daisuke was still floating on his content high, unable to feel any negative feelings. He simply admired his friend's work, unbiased and proud of the both of them.
Satoshi looked over at Daisuke's as well, and stared at it for quite a long time. Everyone else began to trickle out of the classroom, either off to their next class or playing out in the snow, using it as an excuse to act a little childish. Finally, Satoshi gave his opinion. "The execution's nice. I still don't like the subject."
"Just because humans aren't perfect doesn't mean they can't be immortalized, Hiwatari-kun." The redhead and his friend never clashed over quality of art, but always, always on the subject they chose to portray.
"No; it just means they don't deserve to," he said, but he was already looking away, picking up his dark bag and readjusting his jet black hat.
Lightly Daisuke admired the way his friend's ice blue stood out against the darkness of the hat before shrugging. Their arguments always fell into nothing. It was too stupid to argue about things that would never match up, they knew. Daisuke followed suit, grabbed his things, and they walked out of the classroom together and down the hall in silence.
The first thing Daisuke noticed as they exited the building was how lovely all the snow was. He had forgotten it completely. The simple whiteness blanketed the ground so that all of the dead grass around campus disappeared altogether.
But before he was allowed to truly revel in the scenery, a cold, white sphere flew towards him and hit his jaw with a crunch. Daisuke gave a sharp yelp and his and immediately went to his jaw. He cupped it lightly as his eyes scanned the perimeter for the person responsible.
Without even asking whether Daisuke was okay – to him, it was obvious and therefore, unnecessary – Satoshi pointed to their left, where Dark was clutching his sides in an earnest attempt to keep from laughing, dropping his snowball in the process. The violet-haired man wiped invisible tears from his eyes, but his expression quickly turned sour when his gaze met Satoshi's.
"Did you know some pastries went missing last night, Daisuke?" Satoshi said faux-casually, obviously shouting it so Dark could hear. "I think some nasty mice got in and made off with them." His sky blue eyes glared menacingly at Dark. He didn't notice Daisuke's light change in facial color, from pale to pink.
"Or maybe you were just being a fatty and ate them yourself?" Dark sneered as he jogged his way over to them.
Daisuke blanched. Dark could be so childish sometimes… He was unsure of what to do; Daisuke knew Satoshi and Dark's relationship never started off well.
Satoshi was one of the university's more upstanding characters, a prominent member of the student board, furthering his intimidating stature. He had caught Dark slipping a few dollars meant as a tip into his pocket at one of the university cafes at the beginning of the school term. Needless to say, Dark held a bitter resentment towards Satoshi for being the first person ever to catch him. His revenge? To continue doing exactly what he had been doing for the past nineteen years of his life.
Dark was certainly not on the student board, but a "student, bored" as he aptly put it himself. In addition, the violet-haired man had a tendency to…well, frankly, steal. It certainly wasn't kleptomania. Dark was always fully aware of his steals. Sometimes it was a pastry from the shop or a little gizmo on display. He didn't find any guilt in doing so— Dark was always a carpe diem type, never held down by a single regret. Sometimes Daisuke wondered if he should even hang out with such a character. But for some reason, to leave Dark would be like losing a part of him. It was strange.
So this all led to his uncomfortable situation between two obviously incompatible persons. Their piercing glares seemed to slice right through Daisuke's being, and he shifted from one foot to another, resisting the urge to laugh sheepishly. A nervous giggle ended up escaping his lips anyway. "So, uh, Hiwatari-kun, I think Dark and I should just get—"
"Going?" Dark interjected. "Right, we should go eat lunch together, I'm starved." His violet eyes flashed for an instant at Satoshi, and Daisuke wished he could interpret the message his friend just sent.
"Um, right. So, I'll see you later, Hiwatari-kun!" Daisuke's voice hitched. Satoshi only nodded after giving Dark an icy look. Dark grabbed the redhead by the sleeve lightly and pulled him away.
When he nearly tripped over himself, Daisuke gave a startled yelp. "You know you can slow down now!" he exclaimed, clearly indignant.
"I don't like him. He's creepy, not to mention a complete bastard."
"He is not!"
Dark stopped abruptly and turned around to face his friend. Their faces were just inches apart. Daisuke's heart stopped, for a fraction of a second, and he wasn't entirely sure why. Dark sighed, and it made a white little puff in the air. "I just…"
"Dark! There you are!" A very feminine voice called out, and the two of them looked over in the direction it was coming from.
It was a middle-aged woman with a bob of tawny hair and small rosy lips, someone the both of them knew very well: Emiko Niwa, the mother of Daisuke. She smiled and waved but her expression quickly changed to one of surprise. "Daisuke!"
Dark looked to his side and saw that the redhead was no longer there, but behind him, running off as quickly as his short legs could carry him. He echoed the name, but Daisuke kept going. He turned a corner and disappeared out of sight.
"Oh…" Emiko's soft voice whimpered, and for the first time in his life, Dark realized just how old the woman was.
--
Ta-da! I'm back, boys and girls! This is a request fanfic, so I'm planning on making it a short piece, around three to five chapters. I hope you all enjoy, and stick around to see the rest! As always, the update rate will be sporadic, but I hope to finish it within six months. We'll see how things go, right? Thank you for reading, and comments are appreciated.
Ja ne,
Vi