GP00: Sorry it took so long, but Senor English sucks. . I had to finish Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. Slow book. Any ways, enjoy and thanks for reading.

Chapter One:

The New Kid

Jean woke with a start. She felt as if she were being suffocated. Twisting and turning, she desperately tried to break free of the tight hands that squeezed the air out of her lungs. Finally the constricting eased and Jean could see light. Blinking, she looked around her room. How did I get back here?

She sat up in her bed and pushed off the covers that had recently tried to kill her. The bright morning sun showered in through her open window. Could it have been a dream? She contemplated as she rose and shut the window. Stupid window, making me dream something like that, although he was cute. She pulled on her uniform and went to her bathroom to get ready for school. She brushed and braided her hair quickly. As she entered the hall, she thought she saw some hair sticking wildly out of her braid. She sighed and turned to the mirror. Her hand brushed against a long feather the color of a moonless night that stuck out of her hair. It was soft, velvety and smelled like the angel in her dreams. Maybe...

"Jean," her father's strong, loud voice interrupted her thoughts. "You better hurry. School starts in a few minutes."

"Coming!" She answered back. With the feather tucked away in one of the pockets of her book bag, Jean rushed out the door and to school.

She never really liked school or the people in it. They all seemed like idiots and none of them knew how to act. There were only a few people that she trusted completely. It was hard to let people in; you never knew how they would react.

The musical chime of the school's bell rang as Jean entered her classroom. She took her seat at the end of the row nearest the window. If there was anything she heated more than ignorant classmates, it was teachers who were full of themselves; unfortunately this was how most of her teachers acted and it really dragged out the day. Her math teacher was the worst and she always had to start the day listening to his constant bickering. He entered the class room noisily, grumbling about traffic and slow walking kids in the hall, and heaved his briefcase onto the teacher's desk at the front of the room.

"Good morning." he weased in his crackly voice.

"Good morning, Mr. Klark," the class chimed back. Jean just mouthed the words; this guy wasn't worth her breath. Mr. Klark continued his morning barrage of questions to "wake up his class." Jean thought he just liked to see fear and confusion in everyone's eyes. He jabbed his crooked finger at random students and asked them a question he knew they didn't know. This ritual usually went on for five minutes or until he was satisfied that every one was shaking in their seats. The evil finger swung towards Jean.

"What is the Cotangent of 240?" A smug smile crept across his face. Jean froze. Without the help of her chart or a calculator it was virtually impossible to figure it out, unless you had memorized the whole chart.

"Root three over three," a deep voice behind Jean answered. The voice was comforting and yet had a threatening toan to it. Jean became more nervous. He sounds like the angel from last night. Trembling, she was afraid to turn around.

"Class, we have a new student. This is Dark Niwa." The teacher sneered, upset that the question that was directed at Jean was answered by the wrong student.

Jean held her breath and turned around. She met Dark's intense yellow eyes. Confused and unsure of what to say, or if he remembered her, she joined the class in another monotone greeting. Dark smiled and looked directly at Jean. Jean couldn't believe what she was seeing. The angel from my dreams is sitting in the desk behind me. Mr. Klark hit Jean's desk with a ruler to return her attention to the front of the classroom. The math lesson resumed, Jean couldn't hear a thing the teacher was saying over her pounding heart. The thought of the person behind her kept her attention away from the droning voice of Mr. Klark. The class seemed to go on forever; all Jean could do was hope that the boy behind her did not recognize her. What if he is after me for seeing him on the roof? The chiming of the school bell interrupted her thoughts. Mr. Klark handed out the night's home work and left the room. Jean grew more nervous; there was a five minute brake before their next teacher came.

All the girls in the class crowded around the new kid. They buried him with questions and complements. Dark ignored all of them. He quietly sat there, looking out the window. His black hair gently caressed the soft tan skin of his face. His gaze turned and caught Jean staring at him. He smiled the same smile that had crossed his face the last time they had met. Jean blushed and turned around. Unblinking, she stared at her notebook, hoping that Dark would not speak to her.

The bell rang once more to signal the start of another class. The girls reluctantly gave up their attempt to catch Dark's attention and returned to their seats. Mrs. Lovett, a hyper and happy 20-something year old teacher, bounced into the room. She chimed a cheery "hello" as she made her way to the front of the classroom. Jean didn't mind this teacher. Mrs. Lovett was nice, kind and knew how much to sugar coat the truth; not to mention she taught Jean's favorite subject. Art some how spoke out to Jean and calmed her. It was the perfect class to have after Mr. Klark.

"Today we are going to work on portrates. I'm going to pair you up and set you to work." Jean was excited until she realized that Dark was the closest boy to her. "Looks like we have and even amount of students now."

Please don't pair me with him, Jean pleaded silently. She prayed with all her might that Mrs. Lovett would choose someone else to be her partner, but fate was against her.

"Jean, you pair up with Mr. Niwa." All the girls in the class sighed in jealousy. Everyone else would have been more than happy to have him as their partner, why me?

The class room was filled the clatter of desks as they were moved to face each other. Jean reluctantly turned around and pulled her desk with her. The cheery art teacher walked around and handed out supplies.

"I want the boys to draw the girls and then tomorrow we will switch." She went back to the front of the room and pulled out her sketch book. "You may begin."

Jean turned towards Dark. He smiled slyly and picked up his pencil. Jean wasn't sure what to do so she sat as still as she could, hoping that she face wasn't too flushed. Mrs. Lovett was scribbling away, she loved to draw the class as they worked. Time went slowly for Jean and soon Dark started using his colored pastels. To pass the time she watched Dark's movements. They were as smooth as his footsteps were last night on the roof, but he hardly looked up form his sketch book to look at her. I must be ugly or something. Maybe he doesn't like other people watching him work. Jean turned her gaze to the other kids in her class. Most of them were talking and flirting. Random thoughts entered her mind. Why does Mrs. Lovett pair us up boy/girl?...Why are we doing portraits today?

Jean felt someone's eyes on her and she turned back around to find Dark looking thoughtfully at her. He had set his utensils down and had crossed his arms.

"Oh," Jean said nervously, "are you done?"

"No," he paused, which almost killed Jean. "You keep moving and it is hard to draw a moving object. Even one as beautiful as you."

A deep red blush crossed her face. She turned her head back to the front and tried to keep still. I thought he wasn't looking at me. Just as Jean had given up hope of time ever moving forward, the teacher called for clean up. She wanders around the class, complementing student's work, dropping a couple of suggestions. Mrs. Lovett passed each desk quickly, only making a few comments. Dark was still drawing when their teacher reached their desk. At first Jean thought she was going to explode on him, the only thing she did not like was arrogant students who did not fallow directions.

"Mr. Niwa, you should be…" her mouth dropped to the floor. Her wide green eyes went from Dark's drawing to Jean and back again. "this is amazing! Your technique is identical to the Hakari paintings. Your use of light and shadows is superb. It is so magical!"

Every one crowded around the sketch. The girls gawked and complemented Dark on his amazing talent. The boys mumbled and cursed under their breath, this guy was making them look bad. Dark ignored the comments that floated around him as he cleaned up. Finally, he picked up the drawing and turned it to Jean, who was still in shock form Mrs. Lovett's out burst. It was almost like looking into a mirror; only she looked beautiful, more so that she ever thought possible. Her head was resting on her hands and she looked out upon and endless field of roses. She was dressed the most spectacular gown that seemed to jump into color through the dull grays of the pencil. Black hair was curled into tight ringlets and laid across her shoulders. Her face had a look of dreaminess that was caressed by the light of the moon high in the sky. It was so life-like that Jean wanted to touch the hair to see if it felt as soft as it looked.

Dark whispered to her in a soft voice. "I wanted to draw this ever since I laid you in your bed last night."

Jean gasped. That means it really wasn't a dream. And he was in my room! She turned and grabbed his arm as he started to walk past her. "I…just…" Jean couldn't bring herself to scold him for being in her room. "I wanted to thank you for saving me."

He smiled and his desire to hold her showed intensely in his eyes, but he knew that this was not the time or the place. Her grip on his arm loosened and her arm fell. Everyone had resumed cleaning and they should do the same. As Dark put the art supplies away and washed the pencil lead off of his hands, Jean returned their desks to their normal spots. Her heart pounded so loudly that she wondered if anyone around her could hear it. No one seemed to notice, so she sat in her seat and stared at her empty desktop.

Through the next class Dark's voice echoed in her ears. All she could think about was how to get him to take her to dinner or maybe the dance on Saturday. The bell rang for lunch and she noticed that Dark had left. At first she wondered if he had been a day dream, then she shook her head and remembered that new students always got to leave early to have lunch with the new student welcoming committee. This is the perfect time to research on angels with black wings. Jean skipped eating her lunch and ran to the library. She managed to find an open computer along the back wall of the nearly empty library. Only computer nerds went to the library during lunch and finding an open computer was hard unless you got there right after the bell rang.

She pulled up the Internet and typed, "black winged angels" in the news paper's search engine. 279 hits popped up on the screen. That won't work. She typed in "History of Japan: black winged angels". Twelve hits came up. Bingo. Jean was able to eliminate half of the hits; they were about a man to used feathers of a crow to make wings and jumped off his building. They nicknamed him the black winged angel of death. Jean clicked on the next link that wasn't about the crazy man. The article read:

"Witnesses had reported the man had black wings like an angel. The thfief had claimed over 100 paintings and sculptures. He dissappeared and hasn't been heard from for forty years but detectives say..."

Couldn't be him. She returned to the other page and clicked on the next link.

"'I saw the Legendary Phantom Thief Dark. He flew with black wings over the museum after the police arrived to catch the robber. He was holding a painting of some sort.' One eye witness reported. Most accounts were the same but police doubt the Phantom Thief's return after a 40 year absence."

Jean stopped reading. They couldn't be the same. Dark was as old as she was. She turned off the computer. This is stupid, what does the internet know about Dark? She left the library gumbling and annoyed with what she had found on the internet. Class resumed again and time flew by. The last bell of the day was about to ring and every one lined up at the door. They chattered away, some still trying to get Dark's attention. Suddenly the door slid open and a tall man with white hair pushed his way in.

"My name is Krad and I need to speak to Dark."