"I'm home!" Daisuke opened the door meekly, peeking around behind it. He
stepped gingerly onto the mat inside, and closed the door carefully behind
him. No traps so far. His day was looking up.
"Dai-chun, you're home, how was your day?" Emiko clasped her hands to her chest, a mother's proud smile on her lips.
"It was ok," Daisuke said, hesitating.
He checked his surroundings once again, highly suspicious of his mother's intentions. Where was the obstacle of traps and tests his mother put him through after school every odd day? His mother beamed at him, standing lightly at the end of the corridor. It was suspicious that Emiko didn't come closer to greet her son. In fact, it was suspicious that she had come to greet him at all. Normally, Emiko would be in the kitchen preparing Daisuke's afternoon snack after he's been through his ever-changing challenge that looked like something out of Indiana Jones. A slightly upper class household should not have giant boulders positioned to roll down the stairs, or floor that seemed to be one big trapdoor. Sometimes Daisuke would stumble into the kitchen looking a bit scruffy with his uniform burnt, cut, torn and fraying. Other times he wouldn't.
"What's wrong, Dai-chun?" Emiko smiled, knowing exactly what caused the growing suspicion in his son's eyes, "Come over and give your mum a hug."
"There's no trapdoors?" Daisuke asked, taking off his shoes.
"No trapdoors." Emiko replied in her sing song voice.
"No dogs?" Daisuke leaned his schoolbag against the shoe rack.
"No dogs."
"No banana peels or electric doorknobs or trip wires that set off things?"
"None of that today."
With another glance at his mother, Daiske went for it. He grabbed his bag, and tried for the end of the corridor, moving as fast as he could. Emiko stood at the end, smiling, the perfect motherly picture. His heart lifted. Maybe today would be a good day.
A gust of wind caught Daisuke off guard and he fell. Upwards. Toward the enormous vacuum machine that opened up into the roof. Even though he searched around frantically, there was nothing to grip onto to keep him grounded.
"Make sure you're back in time for dinner, Daisuke," his mother called in her so very cheerful voice, "we are having guests."
"Waaaaaaaaaaa."
Nightfall. He sat at the desk, legs crossed, arms folded, waiting patiently for the police file to download. The room was dark, lit only by the pale blue glow of an IBM Laptop, casting silent shadows that Satoshi likened to the ones in his heart. His eyes were hidden behind glass mirrors of the screen, counting off the percent completed and patiently waiting for the rest.
Mi. Ka. Da.
The name hammered another nail into the side of his brain.
"No, I don't need your help," the blonde said aloud, accessing the file he had just finished downloading.
Oh. But you do, Satoshi-sama, for no matter how hard you search, you will not find the answer in that metal box of yours. They weren't in official documentation when I was born, and years past will not have changed a thing, knowing them.
"Them?" Satoshi asked, swivelling his chair to face the gold-framed mirror he hung on his wall. Yet another cursed heirloom.
Obscured by the uneven shadows, the Supreme Commander could just make out the features. He stared into the mirror, at the feral eyes that stared back. Amber eyes, alive with shades of madness and fury were not a foreign spectacle when Satoshi looked into the mirror. Krad.
"Merchants and businessmen to put it politely," Krad grinned, knowing he had caught the boy's attention, "money and power enslaved criminals, if you want the truth."
Given the opportunity, Satoshi knew that his alter ego would talk for hours non-stop, elaborating on every insignificant detail available until... well, the Supreme Commander hadn't ever known Krad to stop on his own accord.
"Though, I must say, a family line that makes it's profit by doing anything for the right price is quite refreshing and useful at times," Krad continued, oblivious to the fact that Satoshi had returned to his computer, typing key phrases into the police search engine one after another. "In fact, both the DNAngel's lineages have depended on it at times."
"What does that mean?" Satoshi asked carefully.
"It means, master, that both sides, Dark's host and the Hikari family, have bought information, among other things, off the Mikada family in order to achieve our positions in the word today. Other than the enemy, this is probably one of the only other households who know our existence and prosper from it. An example of business would be in the previous generation where the Hikari family managed to acquire the blueprints of Winter's Grace castle and protect the Ivy's Embrace from the phantom thief. Mikada are never wrong, and they have the knack for arranging themselves in the best position for business."
"So the reason that a Mikada has suddenly appeared..."
"Is because the rats know that something is about to happen. Something that involves profit to be made."
There was silence for a moment as Satoshi leaned back in his chair, taking in the information.
"What could possibly be about to happen?" he mused to himself.
B.B.: Meow. Sorry it took so long to write such a short chapter.
Tosh: I don't think anyone's listening.
B.B.: Shut up. I know the consequences of leaving a fic for, like, half a year! But to those who reviewed last time, thank you very much. To Silver Tears: you are crazy, I like it. And thanks to digitalize and JMJV. Your support is very encouraging. And thanks to Hikawa, though I found that ice chocolate works better for me.
Tosh: Being the muse, I promise that I will have this author whip out another chapter very soon as compensation for her previous lack of inspiration.
"Dai-chun, you're home, how was your day?" Emiko clasped her hands to her chest, a mother's proud smile on her lips.
"It was ok," Daisuke said, hesitating.
He checked his surroundings once again, highly suspicious of his mother's intentions. Where was the obstacle of traps and tests his mother put him through after school every odd day? His mother beamed at him, standing lightly at the end of the corridor. It was suspicious that Emiko didn't come closer to greet her son. In fact, it was suspicious that she had come to greet him at all. Normally, Emiko would be in the kitchen preparing Daisuke's afternoon snack after he's been through his ever-changing challenge that looked like something out of Indiana Jones. A slightly upper class household should not have giant boulders positioned to roll down the stairs, or floor that seemed to be one big trapdoor. Sometimes Daisuke would stumble into the kitchen looking a bit scruffy with his uniform burnt, cut, torn and fraying. Other times he wouldn't.
"What's wrong, Dai-chun?" Emiko smiled, knowing exactly what caused the growing suspicion in his son's eyes, "Come over and give your mum a hug."
"There's no trapdoors?" Daisuke asked, taking off his shoes.
"No trapdoors." Emiko replied in her sing song voice.
"No dogs?" Daisuke leaned his schoolbag against the shoe rack.
"No dogs."
"No banana peels or electric doorknobs or trip wires that set off things?"
"None of that today."
With another glance at his mother, Daiske went for it. He grabbed his bag, and tried for the end of the corridor, moving as fast as he could. Emiko stood at the end, smiling, the perfect motherly picture. His heart lifted. Maybe today would be a good day.
A gust of wind caught Daisuke off guard and he fell. Upwards. Toward the enormous vacuum machine that opened up into the roof. Even though he searched around frantically, there was nothing to grip onto to keep him grounded.
"Make sure you're back in time for dinner, Daisuke," his mother called in her so very cheerful voice, "we are having guests."
"Waaaaaaaaaaa."
Nightfall. He sat at the desk, legs crossed, arms folded, waiting patiently for the police file to download. The room was dark, lit only by the pale blue glow of an IBM Laptop, casting silent shadows that Satoshi likened to the ones in his heart. His eyes were hidden behind glass mirrors of the screen, counting off the percent completed and patiently waiting for the rest.
Mi. Ka. Da.
The name hammered another nail into the side of his brain.
"No, I don't need your help," the blonde said aloud, accessing the file he had just finished downloading.
Oh. But you do, Satoshi-sama, for no matter how hard you search, you will not find the answer in that metal box of yours. They weren't in official documentation when I was born, and years past will not have changed a thing, knowing them.
"Them?" Satoshi asked, swivelling his chair to face the gold-framed mirror he hung on his wall. Yet another cursed heirloom.
Obscured by the uneven shadows, the Supreme Commander could just make out the features. He stared into the mirror, at the feral eyes that stared back. Amber eyes, alive with shades of madness and fury were not a foreign spectacle when Satoshi looked into the mirror. Krad.
"Merchants and businessmen to put it politely," Krad grinned, knowing he had caught the boy's attention, "money and power enslaved criminals, if you want the truth."
Given the opportunity, Satoshi knew that his alter ego would talk for hours non-stop, elaborating on every insignificant detail available until... well, the Supreme Commander hadn't ever known Krad to stop on his own accord.
"Though, I must say, a family line that makes it's profit by doing anything for the right price is quite refreshing and useful at times," Krad continued, oblivious to the fact that Satoshi had returned to his computer, typing key phrases into the police search engine one after another. "In fact, both the DNAngel's lineages have depended on it at times."
"What does that mean?" Satoshi asked carefully.
"It means, master, that both sides, Dark's host and the Hikari family, have bought information, among other things, off the Mikada family in order to achieve our positions in the word today. Other than the enemy, this is probably one of the only other households who know our existence and prosper from it. An example of business would be in the previous generation where the Hikari family managed to acquire the blueprints of Winter's Grace castle and protect the Ivy's Embrace from the phantom thief. Mikada are never wrong, and they have the knack for arranging themselves in the best position for business."
"So the reason that a Mikada has suddenly appeared..."
"Is because the rats know that something is about to happen. Something that involves profit to be made."
There was silence for a moment as Satoshi leaned back in his chair, taking in the information.
"What could possibly be about to happen?" he mused to himself.
B.B.: Meow. Sorry it took so long to write such a short chapter.
Tosh: I don't think anyone's listening.
B.B.: Shut up. I know the consequences of leaving a fic for, like, half a year! But to those who reviewed last time, thank you very much. To Silver Tears: you are crazy, I like it. And thanks to digitalize and JMJV. Your support is very encouraging. And thanks to Hikawa, though I found that ice chocolate works better for me.
Tosh: Being the muse, I promise that I will have this author whip out another chapter very soon as compensation for her previous lack of inspiration.