Disclaimer: Erm, well... What can I say? I'm not that delusional – yet! ^^;; - to believe that any of the „D.N.Angel" boys or the (slightly mauled) song "Vincent" belong to me. Sugisaki Yukiru/associates (manga) and Don McLean/associates (song) are the lucky people who can legally lay claim to that. T__T
Warning: shounen ai (implied) – And if you don't know or like what shounen ai is, you shouldn't read further. Remember: you have been duly warned. Also I took some liberties with timelines and content/story of manga/anime.
Summary: While painting one fine day, Daisuke ponders why his friend chose to die. Yes, Satoshi's dead. ......Or is he?
Notes: Some things are too good to be passed up and used only once. Here's to the value of repeatedly listening. ^^V
N o t L i s t e n i n g S t i l l
by Hotaru Muraki
Some say I'm painting as if I were obsessed. My mom and grandpa are among those people. Maybe I am obsessed – but not the way they're all thinking. Maybe I'm not and this is just my own personal way of dealing with what's happened. I don't know. And I no longer care. Not really anyway.
I'm sitting in front of an empty canvas, waiting to be filled, thinking about what I want to paint. No, not want to paint but rather need to. When I realize that I'm all out of colours, I get up and wlak over to the shelf where I store my art supplies. It's a beautiful Friday morning. Outside, a sunny, cloudless sky welcomes gaily chirping birds under its atmosphere. The curtains are billowing softly, ruffled by the same mild breeze that gently caresses my hair. I pay no heed to any of this just like I ignore the paintings hanging or standing around in my room or the radio playing softly somewhere in the background. They're not relevant, not important. To me, this is more important by far.
As I sit down again in front of my easel, I suddenly know what I will be painting. I begin by sketching the rough outlines first. Then I start to paint. And as the first hazy outlines appear, my mind slowly, invariably slips back into the past.
Starry starry night
Paint your palette blue and grey
Look out on a summer's day
With eyes that know
The darkness in my soul
Why did you do it Hiwatari—no, Satoshi-kun? You could have dodged, you know. You could have avoided that last one if you had really wanted to. I knew Krad and Dark wanted their feud to end but... This was what that last meeting was to be about, wasn't it? Why else would you send me a note, set a time and place far removed from prying eyes? When Dark arrived there, Krad was already waiting.
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and the daffodils
Catch the breeze and winter chills
In colors on the snowy linen land
I dip my brush into the paint again. Adding another blotch of colour to the picture, I can't but wonder what motivated you then. I know that I just wanted to save my friend, save Dark... But I guess I was asking for something impossible, hm?
As our alter egos clashed again and again, I desperately tried to prevent Dark from seriously harming Krad. I knew that it was your body that'd sustain the damage, you that'd be injured in the end. You must have tried to do the same. I could tell from several too-near misses Krad made. That – and Krad's furious face.
Now I think I understand
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set me free
I would not listen
They did not know how
Perhaps we'll listen now
But still... All the times we met, all those museums, mansions, and other places. Even when I wore the guise of Dark Mousy, legendary Phantom Thief, you always knew somehow when it was me you were...looking at. Remembering our very first encounter as thief and detective, I can feel my face grow hot. Satoshi-kun, the way you pressed me to the floor......
Starry starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds in violet haze
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of China blue
...your body on top of my Dark-body, our faces mere inches apart. Motes of dust floating around, the moon highlighting everything and nothing. For too short and yet too long a moment, time seemed to stop. And as if entranced, I could do nothing but stare up into your eyes.
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed
Beneath the artist's loving hand
When next we met, I didn't understand why you suddenly doubled over. Clearly, you were in some kind of pain but when I rushed to your side to help you, you just pushed me away. Inane though it may seem, at that time I... Satoshi-kun, I never realized before how strong you truly are...were. And at our 'professional' meeting after that, I learned a lot about you. How could I not? All it took was just one comparatively short encounter with your alter ego, Krad.
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set me free
I would not listen
You did not know how
But do you listen now
I dip my brush lightly into black, transferring a small amount of that colour into a blob of white. As I start to mix them, I almost have to smile at the irony. Everyone knows what will happen when you mix black and white, ne? And still people continue to do it anyway.
Once again, I put my brush back to the canvas, applying another spot of paint. Then I lean back a bit, looking at what I've done so far. Yes, it is finally starting to take shape.
For they did not love you
But still, my love was true
And when no hope was
Left in sight on that
Starry starry night
Maybe you couldn't bear that burden any longer. Maybe you wanted all of it to just end. Satoshi-kun... You were tired, ne?
As Dark continued to dodge and/or counter Krad's energy-blasts, I could only watch from the back of my mind, helpless. Helpless to do anything, helpless to save—WHAM! Another hapless statue obliterated. I flinched – but Dark only laughed. He sounded slightly maniacal back then, though. Then, as Dark readied for a counter-blast, a thought struck me. No attack could have rendered me that immobile, that speechless. Satoshi......did you want to die?!
You took your life
As lovers often do
But I could have told you, Vincent,
Satoshi. . . . . . . . .
This world was never meant
. . . . .why...?
For one as beautiful as you
The canvas starts to blur in front of my eyes. Colours are running together, creating one humungous swirl of colours. I blink furiously. Rubbing the sleeve of my shirt over my eyes, I try to wipe the tears away. I succeed – only to smear my face with a remnant of paint. No, I don't care.
Sighing softly only to myself and the wind, I continue to paint. I want, no, I need to finish this. It's no longer a question of 'coping' but of...what exactly, I'm not sure either.
Frameless heads on nameless walls
Portraits hung in empty halls
I no longer really see what I'm doing. Instead I remember each and every time we met, no matter the form. The museums you set elaborate traps in, even though you knew right from the beginning that it'd be futile. Ah, Satoshi. . . .
With eyes that watch
The world and can't forget
Like the stranger that you've met
All the times you caught my gaze. The classroom. The store for art supplies. ...that cellar. The amusement park...
The ragged man I ragged clothes
The silver thorn of bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken
On the virgin snow
...the silvery-white energy-blast hurling over the museum's rooftop towards Krad's battered, beaten body...the exact moment of the impact...white feathers floating gently to the ground, their bright purity a mockery of snowflakes...you, finally, looking at me out of Krad's face...
Me, I still don't remember breaching the distance but the next thing I knew was me – still in Dark's body – cradling you, your Krad-form while having to watch your life slowly ebb away.
As your beautiful, sky-deep sapphire eyes started to cloud over, you reached out, tenderly touching my cheek. Then you smiled, really smiled. It was the most terribly beautiful thing I have ever witnessed. You were about to say something, lips opening slowly, trying to say—something. I don't know because I don't remember. Laughable, totally ridiculous, isn't it? ...But it's still true.
The next thing I'm able to recall clearly again is my mother bending over me, worriedly fussing around. Grandpa was just hovering in the background. He was watching me with sad eyes, though. I think he knew.
That was about ten days ago. I've been painting almost non-stop since. Am I trying to forget? Or am I trying to remember? I honestly don't know but I think I'm starting to scare my family.
Finally! My painting is finished. And about time, too. I'm so tired...just wanna sleep... Yawning widely, I stumble over to my bed and all but collapse on it. In what seems no time at all, I'm fast asleep. [1]
Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me
How you suffered for your sanity
How you tried to set them free
I would not listen
You're not listening still
And now you never will. . .
An errant breeze strays into the room, roaming around rather aimlessly until it discovered the cloth-covered easel. Then it tugs, yanks and pulls until the cloth comes free, fluttering to the ground. Being bored, the breeze is off again, leaving behind the painting and the oblivious sleeper.
From the easel, an amazingly life-like blue-haired, sapphire-eyed boy, glasses folded neatly into the breast-pocket of his shirt, smiles ever-so-slightly at the sleeping youth on the bed.
O * W * A * R * I
A/N: Ehehehee... That was a weird one. *sweatdrops* Anyway, in apology I can only say that a) I've read the manga only up to volume 9 and seen the anime only up to about episode 6 or 7. T__T;;
[1] Image that came to my mind: SD-Dark and SD-Krad cavorting over the heads of sweatdropping & handholding SD-Daisuke and SD-Satoshi. (This has no relevance whatsoever to the story!!)