Shattering The Night Chapter 3: Cold Farewell

The room was oddly morbid for a "peaceful deathbed". To be honest, she would have preferred a rainy day to complete the mood. It really was poetic to a degree. Their dying father sprawled on his deathbed, mumbling final words to no one in particular. Her darling brother, who loved nothing more than his family, staring wide-eyed and helpless as he watched his father slip through his outstretched hands. And then there was she. She would stand with a solemn face of mourning as her father passed all of his earthy wisdom and possessions on to her and Shaji with his last breath, all the while plotting to how this tragic situation could be used to her imminent advantage. It was cold, really it was, and there could not have been a colder person to walk the earth than Satsuki Hikari.

For some reason, her frigid outlook on life did not bother her in the least. She was almost, proud, of her disillusionment with mankind in general. Overall, she had absolutely no use for people. Certain people did things that benefited her in the long run. Others, like the Niwa's, caused her nothing but pain, if she even experienced that emotion. Otherwise, mankind was just there. She felt it a waste of time to grow attached to anyone or anything. People die, people lie, and people leave without a word's notice. People cause pain, and pain was an emotion she couldn't afford to have; not if she were to have her revenge. Not since her mother had she ever loved anything, and since then she had made a vow to do whatever was necessary to rid the world of those who caused her mother's pain, even if that meant stripping herself of all humanity.

Her father never really cared about her or Shaji. Like all people they had certain usefulness. Shaji was the adorable son who showed the world that the great museum curator really was a "big teddy bear". She on the other hand, was more a public embarrassment than a daughter, being so cold and independent, not nearly as obedient as he would have liked. So, like all good little eldest children, she took up her father's mantle and began to help run the museum. Having a quick and able mind, it was more than easy to learn the trade, the endless loopholes of business. Over the years, she acquired more and more Hikari pieces of art; their collection was the best in the world. Her father never once praised her; he could probably sense her malice from across the room. Still the lack of appreciation bothered her and she could not bring herself to even fake a tear of sadness at the final resting place of her father.

"S-s-s," his weak voice whispered, her ears perked up hopefully, some small portion of her thinking that maybe his last words would be an apology for his lack of appreciation. Her hopes were shattered as the name formed itself on his wrinkled lips. "Shaji….my son?"

"I am here father," Shaji said quickly clambering to his side. "We are both here."

"My son, my only son," his words were weak. "come closer."

Shaji leaned his face close to his father's; tears were streaming down his cheeks. Her eyes shot daggers at the both of them, like they didn't know he was dying for over a year, this was pathetic.

"I want to tell you…"

"What father?"

"You are the last hope of the family. Continue our name, make me proud."

That was more than ok with her. Sweet little Shaji could carry on her father's name, be the good little businessman, start a family and have lots of sweet, darling little babies. She on the other hand would carry on her mother's name, she would make her mother proud, she would end the curse that plagued all Hikari, and she would be the savior.

"Yes father, I will, I promise."

"Good, good…" his last words slipped out of his mouth as the breath left his body. Shaji's river of tears became a rushing waterfall, while her thin lips compressed into a silky smile. Finally, that disheveled man was out of her way. But to keep the air of mourning, she let Shaji cry uninterrupted for a full hour.

There were no words to describe what was ripping out his soul. He had experienced this pain once before, but he was too young to really remember. Somehow, this pain felt as if it would slowly kill him. And he wished it would.

This was no ordinary pain. This pain was tearing his body apart piece by piece. He felt something clawing at him from the center of himself. It was picking at him, tearing his soul to pieces. It was so cerebral yet so real, and he began to believe that one could really die of sorrow. Yet all she could say to comfort him was: "You knew he was going to die, didn't you? So why are you so surprised?"

Cold, that is what she was, cold and heartless. He didn't even see a single tear stream down her perfectly powdered face. Still she stood there with, enough audacity to tell him to not be surprised that his own father lay lifeless and limp not three feet from him. And slowly, a new emotion rose in his chest, anger. Anger at the neglect from his sister, anger at the way she carried herself around like she was the Messiah to the Hikari family, anger at her apathy, anger at her manipulation of him and their father, like they were mere playthings in her hands. Well he would not be manipulated anymore. This was it. From now on, he was the only one in control of his own life. But that didn't seem enough; somehow he had to make her pay.

No, that wasn't right, he, Shaji, would never think anything like that. In the back of his head, a soft, aristocratic voice whispered unthinkable ideas. Revenge. Betrayal. Murder. Yet somehow, he got the feeling this voice was no longer talking about him, or his deranged sister. He tried to block it out, but it kept growing stronger, egging him on to release his anger by any means. And as he tried to stuff down the feeling, his chest burned, his body doubled over, and his head began to spin. His normally perfect vision became blurry and unfocused, his thoughts became confused and unclear, he was no longer aware of where he was, until…

Suddenly, he was back to normal. He could see clearly, his heart was no longer throbbing, the voice was silenced, and those wicked thoughts seemed part of a bad dream. It was then he noticed he was no longer in his father's room. He wasn't in any room at all, he was in what seemed like an endless white room with no way in or out. It was then he heard the voice, the satiny voice of his elder sister, and it became clear to him, he was no longer in control of his body.

"Hello, Krad. Welcome back."

Destiny's Quill- This third chapter was in here solely to explain the emergence of Krad. I know there hasn't been much Dark in here yet, but I had to have something to build the story on and flashbacks get kinda lame if there are too many. And I have another use for them in the future. The next chapter will have more action in it, but I think this was a cool way of showing how someone transforms into Krad (as well as giving you readers about 20 more reasons to hate Satsuki…). The whole transformation thing will be explained fully later…Please R&R (no flames)!

Disclaimer- I don't own D.N.Angel, I really wish I did, because then I would have unlimited access to merchandise!