A/N: Dark!Yuukei Quartet warning. Involves all variations of Haruka (Konoha, Kuroha) and Takane (Ene, XX Ene, Actor) as well as XX Shintaro and Yandere!Ayano. As a second warning, they will all be paired at least once at some point. Also, dark themes.

Basically a dark fic, that's all the warning you'll get, ahaha.


I had always known they existed; I was one of the only humans that could see them after all.

This wasn't anything new to me. They had never meant anything to me. Fantasy, fiction – what did we really know in the end? You could fall for a story faster than you ever fell for the truth. A myth was what drove people, every false line and word trickling like a fleeting sunset into the depths of despair.

Wings larger than the body themselves, stretching further than what was humanly possible, soaring higher – haloed creatures, believed messengers from glorified planes – angels. Correction: what you believe are angels.

Let me just take you through what I am exactly.

I'm 18, male, unemployed and the name's Shintaro Kisaragi. Laugh if you must, but I have an IQ of 168, high school dropout, and no friends. Carbonated drinks are my kryptonite and the darkness is my sole companion. No, I am not a villain, and no, I do not intend to be.

They say I'm a little dry sometimes, but we are all 60% water after all.

Yes, I am the brother of the renowned idol Momo Kisaragi, but that's not what this is about. My sister is an entire other story on her own.

I tell you this because now I have your attention. Educational systems call this 'celebrity endorsement'.

They say I have rotten eyes. Living eyes do not rot.

I see things that other people can't unless they knew how. They think I see ghosts, or psychics, or shape shifters and one crazy even claimed I could see medusa.

The only 'things' I've ever seen are angels.

Now, don't forego this warning; this isn't a fairy tale by any means. This is no story you can whack up onto your phone and read in the dead of the night. You know what they call a 'no-life'? I am the very definition of that term.

You can never claim you've seen me on the streets, because you won't have.

You never will.


Angels are not what you think they are. They are not glorious, nor are they awe-inspiring. In this world, they are deceased souls that refuse to be deceased – not ghosts, but companions, following and cradling a vessel until that body can no longer function… then taking it.

I too, am a vessel. My Angel is named Ene; a remorseful figure, who does not want my rotten body any longer but continues to tend to it, fuelling me for days without food or proper water.

Her intentions? I don't know myself. She is a pain, an utter nuisance – but she is an Angel who maintained her complexion; apparently she had died at the age of 19.

Running my calloused fingers over the hunched form by the window, she jumped when I touched her. Her face was white as a sheet, knuckles clenched by the closed curtains. She had blue hair before, a peculiar colour, though in the darkness it appeared to be black.

"The Haze is approaching." My voice was hollow, soulless. I'd explain the Haze in due time.

"Leave this room." The Angel whispered, clutching onto her oversized navy sleeves and nearing tears. Scared, she looked to me and swallowed, her voice barely making a sound, "The future, it. It needs you. Master, please."

I rolled my eyes, taking a long gulp from my drink supply. "I won't settle for the future, when the past doesn't even want me."

Vessels don't have their memories. All they know is wiped clean by their Angel. Reset.

Just another reason why I hated Ene.

"You can… find her again, if you want."

"The past cannot be re-found."

"No, not that… but the Angel that frees vessels."

"I don't think such an Angel exists." Smiling wryly, I sank back into my chair. "I never believed in myths, after all."


There was a siren, howling in the night, not a police siren or an emergency vehicle of any kind. A siren as in those creatures that lured foolish humans to the depths of the sea – a siren, a siren, a siren.

A voice, a beautiful voice, a melody that hurts my ears.

I've told you I only see angels.

That is only half of a lie.

My sister is a half-siren; yes, the idol herself, a siren, a siren, a siren.

She drowned when she was 6 – the sirens had taken her and gave her back like this.

Just another death in my life that I remembered.

That Ene allowed me to remember.

Apparently my state of mind is not yet safe enough to retrieve my memories. Ene says sometimes that I sit for hours staring at nothing, holding scissors. Nothing, nothing.

She says that my life was far from recovery.

I was practically a dead man walking.

I would agree.

The siren started to cry.

I thought my ears would bleed.

"It's been months now… why don't you let me in? I just…" A shadow. Sadness. Fear. A lilting note ever present in her voice. "Shintaro… I miss you. I just want to know you're okay."

I wasn't. I didn't reply.


There was a dash of blood on my hands as it met the splintered wood and I screamed silently, swinging a broken wooden board blindly in the dark. It didn't make contact until I lost control for one moment, the board flying from my hands and being devoured whole by the dark presence in my room.

Ene was nowhere to be found, and I hissed in pain as my chair collided with my back, the impact burning my spine and my chin skidding along the rough carpet.

"What's wrong, Shintaro?" The voice was deep, sharp like the throbbing pain all over and I scrambled up to run behind my desk, curling into a ball and struggling to hold back the hot tears. I was going to die for real this time, I was going to die. I didn't think I was ever this afraid of death.

"Don't you remember me?" The figure appeared to laugh coldly, spinning a pistol between pale, slender fingers. Golden eyes gleamed. "I'm hurt, really."

Just kill me, already.

Then I felt a sudden searing burst of agony spread through my chest, enveloping me – instinctively I knew it was "Ene?!" – she was taking over me, and I couldn't stop her – "It's not for long, Master. I'm sorry." – I kicked the air and screeched until the remnants of my voice were no longer.

Did I give you any fucking permission, Ene? I think not.

With her in control, my body seemed suddenly energized and my movements quick, delivering a kick to the intruder's side and in turn the taller assaulter grasped my wrists, crossing my skinny arms over while I rammed their stomach, baring my teeth.

Ene's cry filtered through my mouth, "Stop it, stop it, stop it!" My body was flipped over and rammed into the ground, and the dark boots of my attacker was the only thing I could see before everything abruptly went still.

Snakes, black snakes, wrapped around my throat and in that instant, the shadow had separated the Angel from her vessel.

I immediately regained control, Ene's energy slipping away from me. My throat was sore and dry, but the words couldn't be stopped from tumbling out, "Who are you…?! What have I ever done to you?"

"I saw her in your eyes."

The voice changed, becoming gentler and sadder, as the figure turned from black to white. Golden eyes turned red, but his – his? – features seemed to soften and he submitted to me entirely, falling to his knees on my bedroom floor.

I almost had the gall to kick him; bloody his delicate pale skin before he whimpered ever so softly,

"I saw Takane."


The next thing I knew, I was in a place I had never been before. No, I had been here. This was the interior of my mind; the complex structure which reformed regularly into places I should remember. This place I should remember.

A place which was lit by the sunset rapidly fading, and the paper cranes fluttering all around me. They shouldn't be.

They were inanimate objects.

Within this thought, another voice I didn't recognise rang out from behind me.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?"

I tried to turn to face the intruder - this was my own, genius, tainted mind and I allowed no access - but my body refused to move.

In the reflection of the window, I saw the wavering shadow.

Red eyes.

An Angel.

"Shintaro, I think it's time you started to remember."

I had thought I was already dead but the story had apparently just begun.