Author's Note: This is sort of a semi-chapter. I was going to include much more, but this alone seemed enough for an episode. Some plot progression (YAY!) and no Ken-Angst (BOO!) but expect the next part really soon, as I've written some stuff that was going to be in this but isn't but will be in the next chapter. Confused enough yet? Good. I'm generally happy with this (especially the dig I got in at the name 'Davis' *shudders*), so don't expect many changes here...

Warnings: DAIKEN, angst, sort-of-evil stuff, a plot...

Disclaimer: Jeez Louise!!! It isn't mine!


Minutes, perhaps even hours passed. In the still night darkness, Motomiya Daisuke sat huddled on his dishevelled bed; his comforter, bundled up and clutched firmly against his chest, his only companion as he shivered in a cold sweat. He dared not move, wishing for daylight.

After throwing the photo down and reflexively shoving the letter-filled box off of the bed, he had assumed that position. Initially, it was to stave off the icy night breeze that had entered through his partly opened window. Then, the rationale had shifted to something far more sinister. As though on the edge of his sight, Daisuke imagined having seen something flit past his window. His cursory glance revealed nothing. He would have passed it off as a trick of the lighting were it not for the inexplicable icy shiver that had run down his spine.

Sitting up, he had pressed himself against the wall to survey the room: the emptiness only sought to further his dread. Without prompting, ominous notions of evil darkness permeated his thoughts and were brought to the fore of his mind. Among them were the visuals of a bloody carpet and paint-smeared walls. Daisuke sat for what seemed like an age in the mire of his gruesome thoughts, trying to ignore them and thus only enforcing their presence. It must have been one of the very early hours of the morning by then.

The Witching Hour, he thought portentously.

Daisuke recalled the campfire ghost stories of the Witching Hour, a time during the dead of night when all manner of dark creatures left their holes to prey on the unwary. They had frightened him as a young boy, as had such ridiculous things as werewolves and vampires, but with age had come a disregard for petty childhood fallacy. At that moment, though, it was a different story.

He had never been a coward, priding himself on his courage and stubbornness. He even had the Crest to show for it. But somehow, the darkness was palpably threatening and had sent all thoughts of bravery from his mind. Daisuke felt that he, one boy, stood alone against a city of unknown whispers and shadows: one boy who felt all the malevolence of the world focused upon his being. Every clatter, every weight-shifting creak that he heard, sent another charge of fear down his spine. When the light from a street lamp that was upset by a gust of wind swayed nonchalantly to and fro across his room, Daisuke edged still further into his duvet-covered shelter.

He could hardly stand the feeling of being so impotent against a world of fear. It grated against his battle-ready, proactive nature and sent a garbled, if not entirely incomprehensible, message to his fight versus flight instinct. Reading those letters must have triggered something off within him, he concluded. But to what extent? He dared a glance at the letters and pictures on the floor, scattered in his earlier wild frenzy to distance himself from them. On top of the pile lay that photo. He tried not to think about it. He failed miserably.

A sudden thump just beyond his door sent his heart into a frenzy of wild acrobatics. His quiet yelp went unheard underneath the mass of material in which he had wrapped himself, as though it would provide an adequate deterrent for any nightly attackers. The exterior noises grew louder, encouraging his imagination to greater feats of conjured-up horrid images. Closer now. Almost at the door…

He barely restrained a scream as the door handle shifted. Blinking away sweat and tears, he tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible in his shadowed corner as the portal swung open and whatever was nearing him entered. His eyes tried to shut impulsively but he forced them open. He'd get a good look at his enemy, at least, as it stood silhouetted in the doorway. He focused on it.

The sight of a tousled Jun rubbing sleep from her eyes seemed to dispel the dark illusions instantly. In that moment, it was almost as though a shadowy blanket had slipped from the room. The air became lighter and less stale, the corners which had previously been hidden in shadow illuminated to reveal nothing evil. Even the moaning of floorboards, now that it had a source, melded into the homely night sounds. Daisuke let his duvet drop.

"Huh?" was all that he managed.

Jun looked less than pleased, but Daisuke had never been more glad to see his sister: angered or not. She crossed her arms. "What's all the ruckus about, Davis?" she asked, using a nickname that she knew annoyed him. "Some of us are actually trying to get some beauty sleep here!"

"N-nothing," he answered. Daisuke hadn't been aware of any loud noises, only the ones amplified by his fear, but he made an effort to conceal his confusion. Jun looked slightly surprised at that curt answer, probably as she had expected some verbal retaliation. In the silence that followed, she snorted. "What, little Davis had a nightmare? Scared of the dark, are we?"

But her words did not elicit a response. In a sudden flurry of activity, Daisuke scrambled from beneath the tangled sheets and managed to drop them innocently over Ken's spilled letters, forcing a naïve grin. It wouldn't do to have Jun discover them. The girl in question, infuriated by her unsuccessful taunting, spun around to leave with an annoyed sigh. But before she exited the room entirely, she couldn't resist one last comment.

"Next time you want to try out your pathetic evil laugh, go do it somewhere where nobody can hear you!"

She shut the door, careful not to wake their parents. Daisuke's momentary relief at her departure was quickly dulled by the return of a fresh wave of dread. The half-imagined darkness swirled in again.

"Evil laugh?" he asked the night. "What evil laugh?"

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For the rest of the night, Daisuke caught little sleep, plagued by his frightening thoughts. It was with a sense of weary elation that he greeted the first rays of dawn sunlight as morning broke fully over Odaiba. Now that he was encompassed by a revealing and illuminating atmosphere, the previous night's worries seemed almost childish to him. Forgetting his trauma, if not his tiredness, he plodded into the adjacent bathroom and performed his morning routine. He felt much more awake after that and made his way to the kitchen, and breakfast. His mother turned from the bacon that she was frying and regarded him first with nonchalance, then with concern.

"Daisuke, what's wrong with you?" she enquired. "You look like you've hardly had any rest at all!"

Before he could explain, Jun piped up around a mouthful of her no-fat, no-sugar oatmeal that, to Daisuke, tasted like flavourless glue. "Davis had a nightmare," she proclaimed. He shot her his most venomous little-brother glare and slid into a chair.

"Really?" Mrs Motomiya queried. "You poor dear. Was it very awful?"

Daisuke wondered at the inanity of his mother's question. He hated when she fussed over him like a brooding hen, so he mentioned the one subject that he knew she wouldn't willingly pursue.

"Oh, it was just stuff about Ken."

"I see." As he predicted, she ceased her questioning and focused her full attention on her cooking. Daisuke wondered, over a glass of orange juice, why the subject had such a taboo attached to it. His parents had been fully aware of his sexual preference earlier, and had never hesitated to discuss the topic. Perhaps it was due to the gruesomeness of Ken's death, or to the fact that he had taken it so hard. He lost himself in that train of thought until he sensed an expectant silence about him. Snapping his attention back to the present, he glanced around.

"Yeah?"

His mother looked oddly coy. "I was just wondering, Dai, if I should pack a lunch for you. For school, I mean. You should really go back soon, you know. It isn't healthy to dwell on the past."

It hadn't occurred to Daisuke until that moment that he would actually have to return to school someday. With his mind otherwise preoccupied, it had quite honestly been forgotten. Facing the school would mean leaving home and reclaiming his life, seeing his friends and fixating on things other than the death of his closest acquaintance. But it would also mean being confronted, at every turn, with the unpleasant truth that Ken would never be returning. He didn't know if he was prepared to face that quite yet.

On the other hand, if he continued to conceal himself in the coddled safety of home, he might never quite believe it: it was far easier to imagine that the black haired boy was customarily getting on with his everyday life when he was removed from it. Actually being in class without his brilliant companion would hit him, hard, Daisuke knew. But what choice did he have? It was now or later, and the longer he procrastinated the bigger the shock would be. He sucked in some air, steeled himself. This would be one of his most important decisions.

"Sure, pack me a lunch. I'll go."