Visitors

Daisuke carefully poured the pancake batter out in the shape of a happy face and beamed at it as it began to rise on the pan. The redhead twirled his spatula and hummed.

"You're doing something disgustingly cute, aren't you?" Dark moaned from where he and the Haradas were relaxing in front of the TV.

"Riku likes cute pancakes," Daisuke called back.

"Really?" Both Risa and Dark's eyes slid to the shorter-haired twin, who turned a perfect shade of pink.

"Leave her alone. You're just mad that you got outvoted."

"I know how to cook!" the thief complained loudly.

"You can cook eggs, Dark. That's about it," Risa smirked.

Riku elbowed her sister. "You're one to talk. Didn't you burn a salad once?"

"We're not talking about that." Risa grabbed her sister's cheeks and pinched them outward. Riku held her cup of tea out to the side in a desperate attempt to avoid spilling it under her sister's assault.

Dark chuckled and sprawled back over the arm of the sofa like a lazy cat. "Cooking's overrated, anyway. I'll have you both know we've discovered a vast selection of perfectly good take-out in this area."

"Come on guys, this is brunch, not a competition," Daisuke said, although he twirled his spatula one more time just to annoy the black-winged angel.

"By the time Sato gets here, Dark will have eaten everything plus the dishware," Risa sighed.

The thief shrugged and offered no counter-argument as he refocused on the TV.

Riku sipped her tea. "I thought Sato said he was off this weekend. Why is he always late?"

"Holy shit," Dark said, sitting up. The thief stared at the TV screen.

"What?" Risa followed his gaze, then choked on her tea.

Riku waved to her boyfriend. "Dai, get in here."

The urgency in her voice drew Daisuke away from his cooking. The others were all staring at the screen like it had just zapped them. "What on earth," he muttered as he walked in to get a better view of the TV.

A photograph of Krad, lying unconscious on a gurney, took up the left half of the screen. His wings stretched morbidly over the sides of the platform at an uncomfortable angle.

On the right, aerial footage of a collision site was being narrated by the news anchor. "Three survivors of last night's gruesome crash are saying they owe their lives to this man."

The ruined corpse of a sixteen wheeler and a crumpled sedan were given brief focus, while the marquee on the base of the broadcast read in large letters "White Angel Responds First to Crash". The footage cut to the impossible sight of Krad's airborne figure struggling to lift a dangling truck cab and fastening it to a crane hook.

Dark cringed just looking at it. The spatula slid from Daisuke's fingers, forgotten.

Meanwhile, the newscaster interviewed one of the police at the scene. "Do we know the angel's status?" The reporter stretched her microphone out to the officer.

"After collapsing, he was seen by emergency services and later taken off-site in the custody of his handler. We have no further information at this time," The stone-faced officer recited.

"We'll have more information for you as it develops," the reporter said, facing the camera. "In the meantime, to start your Sunday right, here's Tanaka with weather."

The smell of burnt pancake batter slowly filled the air as all four of them pulled out their phones. Daisuke found Satoshi's number first. "I've got it," he called, turning on the speaker as the line began ringing. The others drew in around him. After four rings, it went to voicemail.

"I'll try his work," Risa said, pulling something up on her phone.

"Thank you for calling the Azumano Police Department. We are experiencing high call volume at this time. If this is an emergency-"

Risa hung up in frustration. "That crash was nearly an hour away. They could be anywhere." She looked at Dark, but the angel was staring at the screen again like those images were still there.

"She's right," Daisuke frowned. "There's not much we can do except keep calling them. If Satoshi needs us, he'll reach out to us."

The others assented to this logic, although they all knew that wasn't necessarily the case.

Reaching out for help had never been the bluenette's forte.

oooOoooOoooOooo

Satoshi woke up feeling extremely warm. Krad's body was a rash of heat against his chest and thighs. The bluenette lifted his head quietly up off the pillows to get a better view of the angel. Those handsome eyebrows were slightly furrowed, eyes clenched in his sleep. Krad looked uncomfortable.

The blonde's vulnerability carved away any temptation to be self-conscious in this situation. Satoshi indulged the impulse to tighten his arm slightly around Krad's waist. The angel's shirt felt damp. Satoshi took another good look at the angel's face and the soft sheen of sweat on his skin. He softly ran the back of his fingers across Krad's forehead.

Krad's eyelids lifted. He turned his head lazily to peer up at him. "That's cold," he muttered.

Satoshi smiled a little at the reaction. He stroked a damp strand of hair away from the blonde's cheek. "You've got a fever." Candleflame eyes watched him quietly. Satoshi ran his fingers along Krad's hairline.

"I'm fine."

"You're full of shit." The bluenette stroked the side of Krad's face with his hand so tenderly that it sucked the impending retort out of the blonde's lungs. "There's still a few hours before checkout. We should cool you down. I'll get some ice."

He started to move. Krad's hand caught his wrist. "Don't."

The request was so simple and honest that Satoshi nearly obeyed. Krad's fingers were warm, warm, warm. Their bodies were so close, sharing heat beneath the blankets. "I will be right back," Satoshi told him. He met the blonde's gaze and accepted the question that was burning in it. "It's okay. This won't be our only time, for...this."

Krad released his hand. It wasn't clear if that was a gesture of assent or if the angel had simply been surprised into releasing him. Satoshi tried to be graceful as he climbed out of the bed, but he tangled a foot in the sheets and nearly fell into the wall. He noticed gold irises sparkling with amusement as he fumbled for his glasses. "Sick people should just stay quiet," he groused.

"I did not speak," Krad clarified. Smug bastard. He also looked a little too good lying there disheveled and sweaty.

Satoshi rolled his eyes at the blonde and grabbed the ice bucket. Once he was outside the room with the door safely closed behind him, the bluenette paused, clutching the container to his chest. This was happening. He'd really held the angel all night, and they'd woken side by side. He could still feel Krad's hand on his wrist, demanding that he stay with him.

The feeling started as a lump in his throat, and grew into a wild, unreserved smile.

oooOoooOoooOooo

BZZZZT. The doorbell rang. Mrs. Sakamoto looked up from her cooking. Probably a package. She peered around the wall and was unsurprised to see her son locked to the TV. The poor boy had been beside himself all morning. She was starting to wonder if she should just cut him off from the television for a while, but truth be told, she was worried too.

"Just a minute," she called toward the door, rinsing her hands hastily. She made her way to the door and slid it open. "Oh! Eric-chan," she greeted Jirou's blonde classmate.

"Hi ma'am. Is Jirou in?" the boy asked demurely.

"No," came a voice from the next room. She turned to see her son poised with arms crossed, frowning. "Whatever you and the others are playing at, I'm not in the mood today."

"I know," Eric blushed, looking off to the side. "I came on my own. I saw the news. He's your friend, right? I thought...you know. You might want company, or something."

Mrs. Sakamoto smiled gently. "I'll be in the kitchen if you boys need me," she told her son, and left him to decide what he wanted to do. She tied her apron and closed her eyes. Please, let him make one real friend at school.

Jirou sized the other boy up warily. "You came to hang out? You're totally not here to mess with me again?"

"I'm not!" Eric waved his hands. "I swear!" The taller boy shuffled in place awkwardly. "I'm sorry about the tower and stuff."

Jirou's lips twitched upward. "Your apology's so lame," he snorted, dropping his defensive posture.

"Hey! I'm trying my best!" Eric complained.

"Yeah, yeah. Come on. I want to stay where I can keep an eye on the news," Jirou said, limping to the door.

"Your leg's acting up?" Eric murmured.

Jirou shrugged. "Guess I'm stressed out," he said, signaling the other boy inside.

The boys settled onto the floor in front of the TV. The news was on to other topics at the moment. Jirou's laptop was on the table next to him, also with several news sites open.

"Guess he hasn't called you?" Eric asked.

Jirou scoffed. "He doesn't call me, period."

"Didn't he the other night? When I had your phone?"

The boy tilted his head. "Huh. That was weird." Why had the angel called him that night? "But if he were in trouble, I'm the last one he'd probably reach out to."

Eric shrugged and lay back on the carpet. "Man, you should have heard his reaction on the phone. I thought for sure he was going to kill us."

Jirou smiled. "Sounds about right." His expression washed blank again. "I really hope he's okay."

BZZT.

"Should we get that?" Eric asked.

Jirou glanced at his leg. "Mom will get it. The mailman comes about this time."

As promised, a moment later, they heard the front door open. "Jirou! Come here!" his mother called sharply.

Eric froze at the tone in the other boy's mother's voice and looked at Jirou. "Whoah… are you in trouble?"

"No, something's wrong." Jirou scrambled up to his feet. "What happened?" he called as he half-limped/half-tripped into the foyeur. His eyes went first to his mother's urgent expression, and then followed it to the door.

Satoshi and Krad stood in his front doorway. "Sorry we couldn't call in advance," the bluenette bowed politely. Our phones are dead."

oooOoooOoooOooo

To be continued…

3 ^_^