And after much delay, here is the fourth chapter of "Nevermore," in which there is rice, an advance notice, and something with no notice at all except for the fact that, given the pairing of the fic, it was inevitable.
Disclaimer: Characters are Yukiru Sugisaki's, title inspired by Poe, quotes by McLean and Smith, and you should all be glad that I didn't use "Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch-Me" lyrics, because that would have been beyond heavy-handed. There was going to be a Princess Bride reference, but there isn't. Rated PG-13 for this chapter's Sato/Dai, and if by chance you're one of those anti-slashers who randomly made it to this chapter, this is your last warning, except that there'll be another one next chapter, too.
Would anyone like to beta-read for me? Please?
***
Nevermore: Chapter Four"Did you write the Book of Love--
And do you have faith in God above--
If the Bible tells you so?
Do you believe in rock 'n roll--
Can music save your mortal soul--
And can you teach me how to dance real slow?" -- Don McLean, "American Pie."
"Love has found a magic space
A deep and hidden place where time stands still
Now I hold you in my arms
You know you hold my heart and always will
And you and I, here we are
And it's a wonder that we've come this far. -- Michael W. Smith, "Do You Dream Of Me?"
Satoshi was sleeping when Niwa woke up. "Ne, Hiwatari-kun…" The blue-eyed boy rose abruptly, only to have his low blood pressure and the early-morning streetlamps toss a screen of multi-colored shimmers in his eyes. He blinked several times, each time rewarding him less static and a clearer view of the small, bewildered boy sitting tiredly in his bed. "Hiwatari-kun… what happened?"
Niwa's hand was still firmly wrapped around his own.
"You were sick," said Satoshi levelly. "You are sick. You came here last night with a fever and—"
"Oh," Niwa said faintly, meekly.
"Do you remember?"
The redhead nodded slowly and looked, wide-eyed, up at Satoshi. "I'm sorry, Hiwatari-kun… I must have been a nuisance…"
"No." It had been problematic staying in his room with Niwa, true, but Satoshi had promised Niwa Kosuke to take care of the boy, and this was nothing compared to what Niwa had done for him… "You were fine." Satoshi looked severely at the redhead. "But I haven't gotten you to eat since you came here, Niwa-kun."
"Oh, I'm sorry—"
"Don't be, Niwa-kun." Don't be so jumpy, so worried. "Do you mind rice…?"
"No, not at all," said Niwa quickly.
The blue-eyed boy pushed back his chair and stood, hand pulling away from Niwa's. The redhead seemed to notice this for the first time; his eyes went wide and he looked down at the demon bunny, dozing at the foot of the bed, rather than meet Satoshi's level gaze. "I'm sorry, Hiwatari-kun," he whispered. "I have been trouble…"
"Niwa-kun." Satoshi sat back on the bed, placing both of Niwa's small hands in his. "Niwa-kun, I would have done anything to help you – anything – and nothing I could do would come close to what you did for me when they were here. Don't worry."
"Hiwatari-kun…" Niwa was shaking slightly. "Thank you…"
Satoshi nodded and rose again, letting Niwa's fingers slip away one by one. When he returned, Niwa was still sitting in the same position, staring at his hands like a statue, like Pygmalion's masterpiece waiting to take a first breath but poised on the brink between marble and life. The redhead looked up when Satoshi handed him a bowl, but still looked hopelessly shaken.
Their fingers brushed.
It was quiet for a while; Satoshi rested his head on the desk as Niwa ate and the demon bunny curled itself at the foot of the bed like an albino, lop-eared dog, watching the two boys lazily.
"I called your father," said Satoshi finally, breaking the uneasy silence.
Niwa went pale – paler, that was. There hadn't been much color in his cheeks to begin with. "What did he say?" the redhead asked, swallowing hard and putting the chopsticks carefully back in the bowl.
Satoshi held the other boy's hand reassuringly, not even wholly conscious of the action. "He thinks you ought to stay here, to talk if you need to." Niwa looked studiously at the rice in his lap as though counting every little grain to avoid thinking about it. "Do you want to talk? The other night…"
"Not now," whispered Niwa. "I'm… alright now and I will be, for a little while at least. It's nice just knowing that you remember and that you won't forget and you'll talk with me later if I ask. It's nice knowing that… that I'm not alone, not really." He looked up at Satoshi again, and there were tears sliding slowly down his cheeks. "Thanks you, Hiwatari-kun," he said hoarsely. "I'm glad… I'm glad you're here with me."
"It's the least I could do, Niwa-kun."
"Eh?"
"You kept me from killing myself, there in Krad's mind. If you hadn't saved me then, there would be anyone to help you. I owe my life to you, Niwa." He offered a rare smile and Niwa glanced up tentatively, then turned away, blushing faintly, though that may have been the fever. "You should sleep, Niwa-kun," he sighed, taking the redhead's bowl. "You're still sick."
The boy nodded, and Satoshi helped him lie comfortably down. "Hiwatari-kun… thank you… again…"
Satoshi said nothing, but held Niwa's hand as the redhead fell back asleep, listening to those quiet breaths with a sort of quiet relief. Niwa was… better. Niwa was not so far gone that he could not be called back to himself and Niwa did not seem so depressed, so dreamily delirious as he'd been once upon a rainy night…
Satoshi ran his fingers lightly over the boy's palm, then let his hand fall gently back into Niwa's, and the redhead wrapped light fingers around Satoshi's as though gripping a lifeline while lost and storm-tossed and lonely. Niwa had been a lifeline himself once, and Satoshi a broken wanderer adrift on a stark white sea of feathers and ice. Niwa had been strong, once. Niwa had been Niwa once, bright and fiery Niwa…
And still…
I'm glad you're here with me…
If you're alive, you can meet that person somewhere, someday. That person will say "I'm glad Hiwatari-kun is with me"…
And now…
The streetlights flickered off one by one, leaving only the pale half-light of the gray, wan morning. Satoshi leaned over across the bed, head in his arms at Niwa's side. And the bunny familiar watched with one eye open and, content with the scene, curled up and slept.
***
When Niwa woke up again that afternoon, Satoshi was alarmed to find that the boy's condition hadn't improved at all. He was coherent, yes, and at least he wasn't raving and delirious, but his fever had risen slightly instead of going down and his pale cheeks were touched again with an ominously heightened color. Satoshi stayed by his side as Niwa slipped back into his fever dreams, worried about the redhead's mindset affecting a dangerous relapse, and found that it was not a horribly arduous task watching over the boy. It was peaceful, calming, almost—
And then his cell phone rang.
Hiwatari Satoshi did not receive a horribly large number of calls on his cell phone. Indeed, aside from his late foster-father, there was only one group of people who had the number: the upper echelon of the special Azumano task force that had once been entrusted with the task of catching the infamous Dark Mousey. "Hello?"
"Ah, commander – there's an advance notice just in from kaitou Dark – tonight at nine—"
"An advance notice?" Satoshi asked incredulously. "From Dark?"
"Yes, commander, sir."
"Are you sure it's not a forgery?"
"It's – it's in the usual style."
Satoshi scowled at the phone, a full-force glare. He happened to know that the notice-sender couldn't be Dark, but how was he supposed to explain to this random, faceless underling that the real kaitou Dark had been locked away in the sealing of an ancient piece of artwork? And Satoshi himself had made certain that the phantom thief and his white-winged counterpart would not be coming back, not after the three hundred years of the Black Wings' curse had finally ended. "Put Inspector Saehara on the line."
"Yes sir," said the officer, followed by the fumbling sound of a phone being handed off and a deep-voiced, "Commander?"
"And advance notice?"
"Yes, sir – the Bluebird's Crown at nine o'clock." This bit of information alone would have been enough to let Satoshi know that an imposter was a work; this "Bluebird's Crown" was not a Hikari artwork and therefore no great prize in the real Dark's eyes without some extenuating circumstances.
"Who put me on this case, inspector?"
"The new commander general, sir, the one who took your father's position." Satoshi glowered. His foster-father had been, undeniably, a scheming bastard, but at least he hadn't bothered pulling Satoshi into the field for heists of artworks that weren't Hikari pieces. "Shall we send a car?"
"Which museum?"
"The Aster Gallery," said Saehara, sounding moderately surprised. For every other piece Satoshi had been called in to catch Dark on, the boy had known which museum the work in question was kept at. Then again, each of the pieces Dark had gone after were pieces by his family, and Satoshi liked to keep an eye on the heirlooms that could steal souls and scatter memories. Nevertheless, Satoshi knew the Aster well enough, since the museum sported a fair number of Hikari pieces, despite having never heard of – much less seen – this Bluebird's Crown before.
Satoshi looked down at Niwa and sighed. "Alright," he said. "Send the car." Slipping the phone into his pocket and cursing this would-be kaitou under his breath, Satoshi shook Niwa awake. The redhead fixed one bleary eye on Satoshi expectantly and blinked slowly. "I have to go, Niwa-kun," he said. "Until ten, at least."
"Why?" asked the redhead softly.
Satoshi gave him a wry, sardonic smile. "Dark, of all things. Some lowlife thief is masquerading as Dark."
Niwa laughed, but it was a weak, mirthless sort of laugh that turned quickly into a feeble cough. "Alright, Hiwatari-kun," he said hoarsely. "I'll be fine."
"Are you sure?" asked Satoshi gently, loathe to leave.
"Wizu will get you if anything… if anything happens."
Satoshi nodded and squeezed Niwa's hand reassuringly. "Nothing will happen to you, Niwa-kun," he promised, and gave the boy a gentle embrace before turning out the door. The squad car was already there by the time he made it downstairs, and had him at the Aster in record time. Wordlessly, Satoshi stepped out onto the museum's steps, only to be whisked away by and orderly with floorplans and a brief. It was just like old times, Satoshi thought as he tramped through the building, except that this time there was no real prize, there was nothing glamorous or even particularly rewarding about catching the thief.
"Foot sensors there," he said. "And officer there. Lasers in the corner." There was no need for lasers, but if the Azumano police force was going to pull him away from Niwa, Satoshi was damn well going to make them front a bill for setup on the laser contraption his foster-father had ordered.
"Should we have anything on the roof, commander?" asked Saehara gruffly. "When Dark flies in…"
Satoshi shrugged. "Put someone up there if you like. I doubt there'll be much of a problem with Dark flying tonight." Saehara gave him a questioning look, Satoshi gave him an icy one and moved on.
At nine o'clock, there was nothing. At nine o'five, Saehara was having an epileptic fit. And at quarter past, Satoshi stepped quietly out from behind a pillar and handcuffed a scrawny young man in spandex tights. The inspector's epilepsy was miraculously cured. "We caught him!" crowed Saehara, dashing into the gallery. When the inspector caught sight of the would-be phantom thief, however, his fit started up again. Satoshi was not amused.
The blue-eyed boy left "Dark" in the officers' hands and crept quietly out of the museum, avoiding the swarm of reporters who had flocked to the scene. Saehara – or anyone, really – could have the thankless task of telling the cameras that the force had caught Dark, but not really. Dark had caught himself, after all. The only thing left for the police – or Satoshi – to do was clean up little messed like this one.
There was a fine mist clinging to the ground; Satoshi shivered slightly as he waited for a patrol car to pull around back, listening to the rabble burble over the capture-that-wasn't. He stayed silent through the short ride back to his flat, and the officer knew better than to try and make idle conversation.
So long since… He frowned slightly to himself. Niwa might have been dependent on touch for peace of mind, but now Satoshi had it, too. Just that handful of hours made him worried about the redhead. Niwa's fever might have shot up, or he might have slipped back into his worried, troubled nightmares. The boy's disease, it seemed, was catching.
If the officer noticed how preoccupied his commander seemed, he said nothing of it, and saluted emotionlessly as Satoshi stepped out of the car and into the apartment complex. Without even realizing, the blue-eyed boy quickened his pace on the stairs, so that he was almost running on the last flight.
The Niwas' familiar was curled up on his couch. It opened one eye as Satoshi entered, then stretched itself out and rolled over. Satoshi stared at it for a moment, trying to reason out what the demon bunny's presence on the couch meant for Niwa's health, then tossed his coat to the floor and tore through the flat.
And there was Niwa, propped up against the bed, staring out the window at the lamps and the empty street. He looked up when Satoshi came in, a dreamy sort of look, and smiled gently. "You're home, Hiwatari-kun…" He nodded and sat down on the bed, hand going to the redhead's cheek almost instinctively, checking for any signs of fever. The boy's temperature was down; nothing had happened while he'd been gone… "Did you catch the fake Dark?" Niwa asked, catching Satoshi's hand before the blue-eyed boy could draw it away.
"Yes," sighed Satoshi. "It wasn't even a challenge."
"Good," said Niwa firmly. "Dark would have wanted it that way." He played with Satoshi's fingers for a moment and added, fervently, "Thank you."
And then he leaned over and kissed him.
It was not a particularly brilliant kiss, as kisses go. Their cheeks banged clumsily as Niwa pulled away, and Satoshi was too startled to be in any way responsive, but it was a kiss nonetheless.
"Niwa—"
The redhead put a finger against Satoshi's lips. "Shh," he murmured. He kissed Satoshi again, a short little play along the fingers that went on for a time-stopping heartbeat.
"What are you doing—?"
"Saying thank you," he smiled, draping his arms over Satoshi's shoulders. He leaned forward again, but this time Satoshi kissed him back, and Niwa let out a small, soft moan that sent shivers down Satoshi's spine. The redhead's hands went to the small of Satoshi's back and lingered there for a second before tracing his hips upwards, fingers soft and faint as the sigh of a summer breeze. The blue-eyed boy ran a hand through the curling locks of Niwa's hair, toying with the little twists of scarlet held against the nape of the redhead's neck by the faint sweat of fever, his free hand caressing Niwa's cheek. "Satoshi-kun…" He buried his face in Satoshi's chest, shaking slightly, and Satoshi put his arms around the redhead's waist.
"Daisuke…"
The boy turned his face up and kissed Satoshi once again, this time opening his lips and pressing his tongue forward, and Satoshi kissed back as ardently as he could manage.
Daisuke… Daisuke… Daisuke…
The redhead pulled Satoshi down to the mattress with him, legs sliding up around the blue-eyed boy's hips, lips only leaving Satoshi's for a second to pull off Satoshi's shirt, and even then one hand still ran over Satoshi's waist. It was Satoshi who finally pulled away, unbuttoning Daisuke's shirt and kissing his way down to the redhead's small, slender hips, and all of the boy was so soft. Daisuke moaned low in his throat and arched upwards and that, that was when Satoshi broke away from him, face still just inches from Daisuke's. "I can't do this to you," he said hoarsely. "You're sick, you're delirious."
"No," he whispered. "That's not it. I'm fine, Satoshi-kun. I'm fine because of you, because you were there when everyone else was gone and because you came back and because—" He faltered, then smiled and leaned upward to kiss Satoshi sweetly, gently, innocently. "Because I love you."
***
… well… erm… at least the badly written almost-smut had a sweet last line. Forgive me? There are so many things that seem forced to me in this chapter, so I'll probably just nod silently if you flame, except that if you flame you'd damn well better have suggestions for improvement in the next chapter.
"Nevermore" broke fifty reviews, boys and girls! Thanks to Sage of Angst, Ember Elidd ("no" what?), kawaiidark, Flighting dreams (sorry, but Satoshi calling Daisuke "Daisuke" in the last chapter was more of a mistake than anything else), RuByMoOn17, digitalized, Defectus-who-was-formerly-Shooting Starr (for agreeing with my moderately responsible side), Luine, KimiKodoku, Ayame-Sohma, x Akuma-chan x, Natachan, vanishingact, kaori-chan, x, forgottenfayth, xxphatxbaybeexx, Leland Lancaster, and kawaiirabbit14.
Cheer for the happy shounen-ai – review, drop a line, flame, applaud! And please, please, tell me if you'd be willing to dredge through the next installment as a beta.