...I really love you guys. Really, really, I do. I know you've had to put up with a long wait (Moving again, summer assignments, homework, and writer's block), and I am here to deliver...one full, big-ass chapter, and after this, I shall be uploading an intermission. I've decided to keep up with them because I REFUSE to do a story that isn't fully imersable. I want you to be able to understand the Phantom's motives. Why Daisuke fell for Riku. Why Riku would risk EVERYTHING to her name for Daisuke. Why Madame Emiko is so protective with Daisuke and chummy with Satoshi. All of it shall be revealed!

And also, I want you to know that FANWORKS are very much appreciated. I would love you forever. And maybe make up a very in-depth intermission for anyone who make me something, be it a one-shot, picture, or macaroni sculpture you made with your little cousin who was being a prat, so you shut him up with the amazing combo of glue and macaroni, and then you decided 'Hey! Kuku likes my fan art!', so you took a picture of that.

Oh, and I know Satoshi may seem weird here…I'm trying to write him as a cold, mad genius. Which is how I've always seen the Phantom. ;

Anyways, since I've had a complaint that these are too long (I'm sorry guys, I'm a very chatty little hobo, and I enjoy ranting on about things, but you didn't come for the rants of Kuku, you can for the fanfiction of Kuku. If you wanted rants, you'd annoy me on my views on Phantom/Love/Minority Rights/Cheese and watch the story unfold.

coughs I swear I'm done now…and I won't do the usual Suck-Ups and Thankys because I heard a NASTY little rumor that we're not supposed to do that anymore…FIRST, they take away the RP format, then the Choose Your Own Adventure, then the NC-17 rating, now we can't even thank our reviewers for reading out amateur little stories! I love giving little comments back to you guys…I mean, if you have low enough taste to like my writing, then you deserve a comment. XD

So, I'll think of how to get around this. Maybe email everyone back who wants a comment back? Ianno. You guys tell me what you think. Because you all deserve AMAZING props for sticking with this fic through its long pause.

Oh, and one more thing...here is where it gets real dark. If you don't like death, go away. We're kicking you out of our club, buddy.

Angel of Music

Act 4- Music of the Night

Act 4, Scene 1

A swish of a cloak sounded as the dark Angel took off his cloak and laid it to rest on the dark mahogany desk. His finger traced the skull carved into the side gently before turning his ice blue gaze to Daisuke. The boy was still in a bit of a daze…that wouldn't do for practice. But really, how could he practice now? He had Daisuke here…

"Daisuke…" He muttered, looking over the small boy, whose head turned in his direction, his lips drawing into a curious smile of sorts. "I've brought you here…to the scene of sweet music's throne. A kingdom of music…you have come here for one purpose alone…since the moment I first heard you sing, I have needed you with me to sing my music…And," He added, turning away from Daisuke's growingly curious gaze, "What more fitting for an angel of music then a kingdom of music…?" He whispered to where Daisuke couldn't here.

"Angel…" He heard Daisuke say, "Master. I am ready to learn what you have to teach."

"Teach…" To Daisuke's and to his own surprise, he laughed. It was not a cold laughter that rang through the catacombs under the opera house…no, it was harder to describe. It rang of mystery and a touch of bitter-sounded tones. "I have much to teach you. But music is not the only thing I have to teach. No…and they say the teacher learns from its students? I'm finding that to be true…but teach? Something different then music I will teach tonight." He turned around suddenly, facing Daisuke with an intense look. "A new song."

"A…new song?" repeated Daisuke. The Phantom saw his angel's face cross with confusion. His face split into a grin.

"Yes…all you have known is the music of the world above…the fools they are! They know nothing of the music of the night." His foot took a step toward Daisuke.

"Music of the night…?" repeated Daisuke once more. "What music is that?"

"MY music." came his simple reply.

Should he sing it?

Dare he sing it?

His face lost his smile, and took on an intent look.

Yes.

End of Act 4, Scene 1

Act 4, Scene 2

Madame Emiko's footsteps echoed off the marble walls very slightly…after all, cloth shoes made little sound. In all the excitement of the night, she had forgotten to check on her boys…and she knew how they got after a performance. Excited at a job well done, drunk on the spotlight's glow…the girls were not as bad, as they didn't quite work each other into a frenzy like the boys did…her attention would turn to them after she put her boys in line. A slight smile crossed her stern face…being childless, all the dancers were like her own. This job was gift of God, and she would not let it go.

Her robe over her nightdress made little movement as she made her way down the hall. But it did move as she suddenly stopped her advance on her rebellious boys, make a soft swish around her ankles.

She heard footsteps. Surely they were not that bold? Her boys were not stupid. They would not cross her like this.

"Who is it?" she said sternly as she held her candle out in front of her. A heavy chuckle met her ears as a reply.

"I'm not one of yer boys, if thaaat's what yer gettin' at!" came a slurred voice. He stumbled into view. Madame Emiko wrinkled her nose. That dirty drunk. Buquet. He had been on relatively good behavior, as the man was no fool when off the liquor…he heard the rumors of retirement and the opera house being passed on, and wished to make a good first impression when the time came. But the monsieurs were gone, the lights were off, and his liquor cabinet was open.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" she asked curtly, her candle held up with a steady hand. He tilted his head and swung his bottle to and fro, a drunk grin on his face.

"Lookin'."

"For what?"

"That god-damned Phantom."

The breath caught in her throat, but she showed no sign of it.

"The…Phantom? The Opera Ghost?"

"Yeah…know where he is? Ya know everythin' arrrrrouuund here." His drunk grin turned into an accusing smile that twitched occasionally.

To and fro, went his bottle.

To and fro.

She ignored his comment.

"Why do you look for the Opera Ghost? He would not take kindly to the ill-intent."

Not kindly at all, she'd thought.

You'd be killed.

"Because!" His face contorted into one of anger. The candlelight danced in a frenzy on his deeply furrowed brow, his eyes raging with drunken hate.

To and fro.

Smash.

The glass from his bottled fell into a dimly shining mass on the floor, catching all the light it could from the candle. The liquid dribbled down the wall. The neck of the bottle he crushed in his fist as it tightened, the blood starting to seep through the cracks in between his fingers. "He made a fool of me…"

"You seemed to have taken it well. Made it even into a joke." She noted. His look alarmed even her, and even though her every instinct told her to start stepping back, pride's call was stronger. She held her ground.

"To save face, you stupid woman! Those managers laugh 'bout me this night!"

The blood dripped from between his fingers onto the ground.

"What do you plan to do when you find the Opera Ghost? He would not take kindly to the intrusion."

You'd die.

Drip.

He threw back his head and laughed.

"Kill him!"

"You could not kill him, monsieur. This task of yours is foolish."

Drip.

"Oh, but he deserves to die!" His smile twitched once more, his words becoming less stupid as the pain from his hand brought him back into reality, if for only fleeting seconds. He dropped the broken neck of the bottle. There were still small shards in his open palm. Blood kept dripping.

Fool. Stupid, drunk fool.

"Think on it. Our finest horse disappears. He blackmails our good managers. Fear all around…and I take note Daisuke is not back. The boy must be dead. Or his plaything. He is corrupt enough in the eyes of the Almighty to be wicked enough to have his way with another male!" He grinned. "The boy sang almost unnaturally well tonight. Meybe he had that god-forsaken Phantom waiting for him." His grin grew. "What a scandal that would make! I'd get paid well to start tha rumors. Takeshi must not be happy…"

Drip.

You stupid fool.

"…If that is the case, I have my suspicions."

It's not the Angel of Music who needs to die.

"If ya could tell meh that, I would never call yooou stupid again!"

You do.

"Try the trap doors. How else would he get around so effortlessly? Go as far down as they go. Far down enough that they reach the water that is below this opera house. I have heard odd sounds around those doors…I fear he is under our very feet."

You shouldn't have threatened me by accusing me of withholding information.

You shouldn't have threatened Daisuke by mentioning his name.

You shouldn't have insulted the Angel.

Die.

Drip.

"I owe many thanks!" His grin turned wicked as he fingered his blade in his belt loop. He turned and left, crunching the glass under his feet. He froze and leaned on the wall for a few seconds, laughed at himself, and stumbled on. Madame Emiko's stony gaze held no emotion, no flicker as he left. Her arm was steady as the light from her candle allowed her to follow his shadow with her eyes until he turned the corner. Her lips barely moved as she whispered to his disappearing shadow.

"Those who speak of what they know often find silence is wise. Buquet, you should have held your tongue…now keep your hand at the level of your eyes."

She turned on her heel. The boys still needed her. Buquet would need no earthly desires soon, except for a priest for his funeral to pray for his dirty soul.

DIE.

End of Act 4, Scene 2

Act 4, Scene 3

Daisuke's eyes tried to focus in the low light of the Angel's haven. The candles that were scattered all around did offer illumination, but not enough to touch every small corner of this small, serene world. Here Daisuke felt at peace…the darkness surrounded him, enveloped him in an embraced, and sung him sweet songs conducted by his beloved Angel.

His eyes slowly found their way to the Angel. The low amounts of light barely illuminated the outline of his sweet, dark Guardian. The black of his outfit all melted into one seamless being, graceful and soothing. The head offered a startling contrast, a pale profile coming out of the dark mass, the light blue hair catching the light of the flickering candles, the piercing blue eyes shining through the dark holes in the mask. Most would have found the figure frightening, but Daisuke only saw beauty in it...Beauty. Comfort. Fear…?

Even in his daze, his mind pushed away his thought. He knew this man was a protector. A figure of perfection sent by his father to save him and to teach him. No reason to fear an Angel.

No reason to fear a father…

He could tell by the concentrated look on the Angel's face that he heard music. His eyes were nearly closed, almost glazed over, lost in his world. Daisuke looked deep into his eyes, and suddenly the Guardian's eyes snapped back into reality, focused on a goal, on him.

He peered into his soul and heard music too.

The Angel opened his mouth. The orchestra swelled. His spirit soared.

End of Act 4, Scene 3

Act 4, Scene 4

One, two, three, four.

Daisuke.

He heard the music, HIS music, swell to a sweet pitch in his head. He counted the beats in time with the music as he looked straight at his sweet angel. Who was looking straight back. He felt a shiver run down his spine before he began to sing…he feared his eyes sometimes. They seemed to look straight through him to his dirty soul.

He wasn't ready for that yet. If he touched his soul, he might become contaminated as well.

Contaminated.

Filthy.

Damned.

No!

He took a step toward Daisuke, hoping to shock him away from his eyes as he began to sing. Hear only my song, sweet angel. See only what I want you to see.

Love me…

"Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation…darkness stirs and wakes imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses…"

He took a step toward the boy, masking all emotion in his expression except what he wanted him to see, to feel, to share. His passion. His steps started to ring into the pattern of the beats of the music.

"Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor…grasp it, SENSE it, tremulous and tender. Turn your face away from the garish light of day! Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light…and listen to the music of the night…"

The boy took a step himself, his powerful red eyes still peering deep into his. Forget my soul. Feel my love. Please…

"Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams, turn your thoughts from the life you knew before! Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar…and you'll live as you've never lived before…"

The angel was right in front of him. His felt his arms tremble. His small size…his build…they would fit, wouldn't they? If he held him, their bodies would fit almost like pieces in a puzzle. He slowly reached up to Daisuke's face, and let his fingers to trace the outline of his face. His head seemed to cradle into his caress like a timed reaction. Like it was meant to happen. His other arm pulled the angel into an embrace. He didn't resist, but rested his head on his chest as if to listen to his very heart. Hear it. Have yours beat with mine. Our hearts should be one…

"Softly, deftly, music shall caress you…hear it, feel it, secretly posses you. Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness that you know you cannot fight! The darkness of the music of the night…let your mind start a journey to a strange new land. Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before…let your soul take you where you long to be! Only then…can you belong to me…"

He felt the small angel hold onto his vest. He took his spare hand and lifted Daisuke's face up to meet his in a gaze.

"Floating, falling, sweet intoxication. Touch me, trust me…savor each sensation. Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in to the power of the music that I write…the power of the music of the night…!"

The angel's grip grew weaker. He looked down. His knees were starting to give. Was he going to collapse…? He quickly made his hold more secure as Daisuke's legs gave out, and he collapsed on his chest. He studied the boy's face. His mass of red hair fell all over his face, his eyes closed in a peaceful, but tired fashion. It had been a very exhausting day…had he overworked him? He almost mentally kicked himself. Of course the boy was tired. He sang perfection tonight, laid out his musical soul for all the world to see. He carefully picked him up, and with a gentle motion, laid him on his bed. He caressed his face again, and placed a kiss on his ivory forehead.

"You alone can make my song take flight…help me make the music of the night…"

I love you, Daisuke…

End of Act 4 Scene 4

Act 4 Scene 5

Stupid woman! There are a million trap doors in this goddamned opera house. She should have told me which one was best.

Buquet unsuccessfully groped around the backstage for the right lever. Even in his drunken stupor, he knew which lever did what. And he thought he heard the best sounds of water in the one just near the back of the stage. He thought. Maybe it was just the liquid going to his head…

No, wasn't shaped like that.

NO, not that one either.

…Aha! He grinned wildly to himself as he fingered his knife in one hand, and the correct lever in the other.

God be on my side, because I go to kill a devil.

He pulled the lever.

End of Act 4 Scene 5

Act 4 Scene 6

Riku fiddled with her hair the entire way back to her new home in the city. Her family had owned it for a while, so it was not quite new, but that was besides the point…Daisuke. She finally finds the hole in her heart, and then she hears some man's voice in the dressing room. She shook her head, then resumed playing with her hair again. Just over-reacting. He must be a mentor. Or a tutor. Daisuke was such a pure man. She knew that as a child he prayed every morning for a wonderful day for everyone he knew, and at the end of the day he prayed in thanks for the day he had had. He must have prayed for his father every day since his death. Why would he be so sinful..?

Yes. Overreacting. He'd NEVER. Daisuke was too pure. Even though she heard such a strange obedience and joy in his voice. And such alluring tones in the other…

No. Overreacting. That's all. That's all…

She didn't stop fiddling with her hair until sleep finally took her.

End of Act 4, Scene 6

Act 4, Scene 7

The water sloshed about his body in an ill fashion, forbidding in color and putrid in smell. It came up to his boots, splashing him up to his chest. He knew the layout of the opera house rather well, and therefore knew a bit about its underground…he shouldn't be getting into deep water until a little ways ahead. Buquet's glance found the large gargoyles staring menacingly at him. The eyes almost took a life of their own, and in the little light given by his lantern, he could have sworn he saw their limbs move.

That sobered him up real quick.

He felt his blood quicken its journey through his veins as he quickened his pace. His head jerked around every so often. Was there something there? The hostile air of this place, it turns you insane…no wonder that boy-loving freak was so twisted.

Suddenly, he felt eyes burning holes into the back of his head. He gasped, and in the process of spinning around, dropped his lantern. The light died as suddenly as it was released, leaving only a near invisible trail of smoke winding in the air.

A cackled filled the air, reverberating off the walls, piercing him from every angle. His eyes wildly tried to adjust as they searched for the source.

Oh god, he thought in a sudden panic.

I'm going to die here.

"Buquet, you FOOL!" came the voice, dripping malice and sick entertainment. "You haven't heard the stories enough about me? Haven't twisted your lies far enough? Had to see the real thing? Seeking me out, were you?" He heard a splash as something landed in the water. Close.

Oh god, it was close. He could feel the water ripple towards him. He couldn't scream. His breath had left him. He couldn't move. His entire body, frozen to the spot. Fear swelled to in his chest to the point he thought he would choke on it.

Oh god.

Oh GOD.

The voice carried on, coming from all directions.

God, make him go away.

I'll take back my ill wishes, drinking, EVERYTHING.

Oh god.

I'm going to die…

"You're quite lucky. I'm in a bit of a good mood…your death won't be too painful. Normally, such intrusions on my domain leave me in a bit of a foul mood, but you caught me on a good day. I only think I'll strangle you. And leaving here alive is not an option for you. I'm afraid I don't want you sending those annoying police men to me. They don't make good house guests." the voice still spoke to him from all angles. His words still dripped his sick amusement. He could hear it in his voice. It was the phantom, the ghost…

His reaper.

Oh god.

He choked then gasped for air, clutching his throat. His whole body shook. He felt more ripples as the Phantom came closer. He suddenly felt himself fall over from the shock. His fear awaked his frozen limbs, screaming at him to move. He slipped as he tried to get up. The cruel laughter returned.

"Making a sport for me, eh? Very well. Pray to your god for help, Buquet! PRAY TO HIM NOW, YOU DAMNABLE FOOL!" His laughter rang once again as he scrambled to his feet. He kept slipping and falling, but he kept his eyes on the goal…the exit.

But he was too far. He knew that. He had to try. He couldn't just sit here.

I'll die. He's going to kill me.

Oh GOD…

Oh God…

No…please, God, no…

He heard the soft whistle of something flying through the air, and suddenly felt the sharp twine of rope around his neck. He tried to scream, to yell, ANYTHING, but choked instead. He clawed violently at the rope to no avail. He heard more laughter as the strong pull from the rope sent him crashing backwards. The water came up in what seemed like a torrent of a wave, coming up then crashing down on him. The putrid smell filled his nostrils, and he coughed from a mixture of lack of air and the water that had fallen into his mouth. He tried to take in a deep breath of air, but the water and rope burning into his skin stopped that. Searing pain raced through his neck, his lungs feeling like they were catching fire. He felt the eyes start to roll back into his head as his arms weakened their clawing at the rope. As he started to feel no more, he heard the last sounds he would ever here…

"My aim is still what it was! Give my regards to Lucifer, Buquet."

End Act 4, Scene 7

End Act 4

Yeah. I tried to make that last scene horrifying, but I don't think it turned out as planned… Oh well. I'll try to get better at being a better horror writer. I hope you guys don't mind how I wrote this chapter…I took a bit more of a different approach. I don't know if you can spot it…it's nothing big. But this was nice and long, right? And I still have an intermission to do…well, this will keep you guys entertained for at least a week, right? XP And I'll be moving the rating up…just because the death toll will get up. I want my Satoshi Phantom to be one sick, twisted bastard. Kinda like the original, but more a lover. Insane, but brilliant. And lonely. Hope ya'll liked the bit of Satoshi/Daisuke fluff.

Oh, and I've only read through this once, and it's 2 in the morning, so I'd expect changes later on. ;

Anyways, until later.

Kuku out!