Disclaimer: I own no part of DN Angel except for a few manga books. If I was, my name would be Yukiru Sugisaki and I would be off drawing something instead of writing fanfiction of my own creation.
Was that retarded? Let me know, I just woke up.
Author's Note: My first fanfic in a LONG time. If it sucks, don't review. If it doesn't, review if you feel like it.
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Return of the Thief
Ch. I
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"Eighty thousand!"
"Eighty-seven!"
"Ninety!"
"HUNDRED THOUSAND!"
"Hundred and fourteen thousand!"
The room fell silent.
"Once!"
"Twice!"
"SOLD, to the man in the third row with the navy jacket! May I remind bidders that all sales are conducted in American dollars!"
Daisuke sighed and walked off the platform to get a drink. He hated having to sell his art to idiots with no appreciation of art and beauty, idiots who needed something for the art niche in their foyer in their new condo.
He hadn't even sold any that were nice. Well, then, Daisuke had very high standards. In his opinion, only four paintings he had ever done were worth any money whatsoever.
The four he kept in his condo, the condo with the best security system in Tokyo.
"Screw the auction. I'm going home." Daisuke said to himself.
Walking out of the auction house and down the street, he received many glances from curious passers-by. On the subway, a man walked up to him and asked for his autograph. Daisuke complied, signing the completely impossible-to-forge signature that appeared on the upper-right corner of all of his paintings and drawings.
The man turned around and yelled to the entire compartment, "I JUST GOT DAISUKE NIWA'S SIGNATURE!"
Daisuke was so swarmed that he had to get off one stop early.
In front of his condo building, an overeager reporter ran up to him. "Mr. Niwa, what are your thoughts on the private auction that just finished?"
Staring at her, Daisuke said slowly, "My thoughts are that I desperately need to get a bodyguard to discourage eager reporters like yourself."
She slunk away, seemingly hurt.
He walked into the lobby of his condo building, waved at the concierge and doorman, and took the elevator to a button marked 'Private Penthouse: Floor 24.'
Stepping out of the elevator and pressing his middle finger onto a small electronic pad on the one double door in the small hallway, Daisuke entered the door which opened onto a gigantic saltwater fish tank in the entrance.
The fish tank had two notes taped to it. Daisuke walked up and read it.
One was seemingly from himself to Riku. He chuckled, it was from twelfth grade. His writing hadn't changed at all. It was a note asking her out.
The one next to it was written in Risa's trademark purple ink. It consisted of three words.
YOU CHEATING BASTARD
-R.H.
Wait… his writing hadn't changed at all…
Oh shit.
The note from Risa was fastened to the glass with tape attached to a platinum band with a miniature skating rink attached to it.
What a FUCKING idiot.
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"Hello, you've reached Risa Harada's private cell phone line. Please leave a message, unless you're a cheating bastard. If you are, please hang up now." BEEP
"Risa? You're an idiot. You've seen that note before, and you were happy for your sister. But obviously you don't care what happened in fucking high school. How could you be so stupid? And change your answering machine for Christ's sake. No one gives a shit." CLICK
Daisuke wondered what would happen now. Risa was the person who made Dark leave him. Would Dark return until he could win her over again?
Dark…
As memories flooded into his mind, the hurt at Risa leaving him left.
Daisuke walked to his private studio. No one was ever allowed in here but Daisuke himself.
Next to the window stood without question the best painting he had ever done.
It was a beautiful face turned sideways, looking out at the sky on a starry night. The face had deep, playful violet eyes and rich, deep brown hair with streaks of violet that blew in the wind. Tan, flawless skin was on a bony but still stunning face.
Shortly after Dark left him for good, Daisuke had woken up in the middle of the night and painted this. He hadn't allowed himself to fall in love with Dark. That would have been too easy, and he was afraid Dark would leave him. How can you fall in love with a curse?
The night before Dark left him, he tried to tell Dark how he felt for him, and no one else.
Throughout the barely comprehensible mess that escaped Daisuke's mouth, he registered that the words I, Love, and You came out in the right order.
Did Dark hear? Did he leave because of this? Wouldn't Dark accept him?
Daisuke looked in the mirror above one of the two desks in the long, narrow room. Would Dark accept him as he looked today?
Daisuke had changed drastically. His red hair had grown darker to an auburn and fell straight down in a low pony, tied with two brown pieces of string in neat bows. His striking ruby eyes had stayed the same color, but weren't so big on his face anymore. He had light, feminine features that made him all the more attractive.
Daisuke had a slender build with hardly any muscular mass at all. However, he was still a formidable opponent in fighting, with his amazing reflexes and speed.
He still couldn't compare to Dark. Dark wouldn't even be into other guys anyway, and if he was Daisuke wouldn't be in his league, even close to his standards.
Now Daisuke cried, for Dark and his feelings towards him, for Risa and her stupidity, for everything he had ever cried about.
"DARK WILL NEVER FEEL FOR ME!" He screamed, both to hurt and calm himself.
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From a shadow, of which there were many in the approaching dusk, a form sadly watched Daisuke break down and heard the scream from Daisuke.
The shadow whispered to himself, "You have no idea how wrong you are, Dai. I'll have my body soon to prove it."
As Daisuke was about to fall asleep with tears still flowing, he felt a comforting presence take hold of him in the shadow and soothe him.
And as sleep finally took him, a voice rang out in the room, a deep, rich, loving voice he had not heard in many years.
"I love you, Dai."
Daisuke cried himself to sleep, after hearing what he thought was a dream, thinking he would never actually hear those words from the one person he needed to hear them from…
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So sad… I mean it's sad how much this sucked, in my opinion. But I'm my own worst critic. This will be continued, don't worry…
-Adam
