A/N: Er.. yeah. first fic ever written. Don't kill me, please.Oo; Originally meant as a one-shotsongfic, evolved into this. Kinda based on 'the Swan Song' by Within Temptation, butit isn'ta real songfic.
Warning: hints of shounen ai, more in later chapters. Don't like, don't read. I don't mind criticism, as long as it isn't just because you hate boy x boy pairings. Flames will be laughed at.
Disclaimer: D.N.Angel does not belong to me, it belongs to that one guy. You know, the one with the hair.
He stood at the open window, breathing in the fresh clean air. Winter was early, this year, and his breath left small clouds in the air. Violet eyes fluttered shut, and for the first time in several days, Dark relaxed slightly.
The last few days had been stressfull, to say the least.
The curse had been broken.
He did not know how, he did not know why, he did not know who; all he knew was that one night after a succesfull theft, he went to bed, gave the body back to it's rightfull owner, and then... darkness.
He did not like the darkness.
When next he woke up, he was lying next to his host... well, former host.
He was free. And he did not understand.
When Daisuke had woken up enough to understand the situation, he immediately fretted over "Satoshi-kun"... what if the same had happened to him? That blonde homicidal maniac had no qualms of killing the ones that no longer served his purpose. The Niwa-boy practically dragged his former curse away, the redhead flying with Wizu and Dark on his own wings.
poor Dai-chan, so blind of the obvious
They arrived just in time to see Krad fly away.
Daisuke sped inside, but Satoshi was fine. He had managed to send the angel away with some of his own magic. That, however, did not discourage Daisuke to fuss all over the other boy. Not that he minded, of course.
Dark remained outside, watching the light fade
He shook his head, pulling himself out of the flashback.
Ever since that night, Krad had been even more obsessed about killing him. It stung him, and he had a good idea why.
Dark did not see his point; the curse was broken. They were mortal now. Granted, mortals with special abilities, but mortal nonetheless.
not a curse anymore
It used to be all he lived for, stealing. But now... it was pointless. He was no longer the Niwa curse; he was just Dark.
What was he living for, now?
nothing binding him here
He thought of his life, the many adventures... and of course; the many girls.
But he would not live for them.
He thought of the Niwa family. Warm, welcoming, a tight pack... where he no longer had a place.
He would not live for them.
He thought of his profession. But what was the use?
He would not live for that.
He thought of his enemy. Would he live for backstabs and pain and cruelty and tears and...dreams, of light and warmth?
He could not live for that.
He spread his wings, and soared out into the night.
Flying over the city, he thought of his nemesis once more. It was not a very unusual track of mind; in fact, it was that same golden eyed angel that occupied his thoughts most of the time. And he knew why.
He had known why for centuries.
Shards of times past flashed before his eyes. Fights, traps, the thrill of getting away, girls, girls, girls, i> Krad /i> ...
He could dream of soft words, sweet touches, his name spoken in a kind fashion, his own personal light...
But that was all it was. A dream. A fantasy. Whisps of smoke...
He could not live for that.
He looked up, finding himself already soaring past the cliffs. That was the second time this night that his thoughts had drifted out of control. He chuckled.
Well, it was not to be helped.
It was clear to him now; he had no more purpose here.
A sudden calm came over him, like the clear pool before the waterfall. He felt all the pain, the longing, the sadness drift away. It didn't matter anymore.
He flew a few loops, enjoying the freedom for a while, loving the feel of wind rushing through his hair and feathers. It was almost like... no. No more drifting off; he had no more use for that.
He flew higher, higher, higher, until the city looked like a maquette, or a childs toy. The streetlights twinkled brightly, almost inviting.
He really hoped all those stories about heaven and angels were true; he'd like to have white wings for a change.
He smiled to himself, softly. So... this is how the great kaitou thief dies. How ironic.
Then he let himself fall.