Thread: Pink Dark Boy Sucks Now
WillArmsweak said: Well, not now, it's sucked for 5 years now. Kishibe really started to get lazy. I could have wrote better shit than he has in years.
Posted 19:04 on 10/3/04
BlueLightGirl33 [MOD] said: How many times do I have to ban you from this forum? No one wants to see your 150 Kishibe hate posts a day.
Posted 20:29 on 10/3/04
THIS THREAD IS CLOSED
Diya sighed and shut off his computer. It seemed he would be unable to read any discussion on the new chapter of Pink Dark Boy tonight. I don't know why I even bother trying to read the forums anymore, he thought. This asshole shows up everytime a new chapter is out and floods the discussion boards with his negativity.
Diya threw himself into his bed and stared at his ceiling fan. All he wanted to do was to talk about the new chapter of his favorite manga, but without that, it was time to lay in bed and worry about the upcoming week.
English exam, studying, chores. Diya's mind was already racing. Visiting my aunt, bullies, no friends. Night time was always a source of fear and anxiety for Diya, even as a child. Crime, murderers, kidnappers. As a young boy, he would have terrifying nightmares. Clowns, werewolves, Freddy Krueger. Whenever he woke up from one, he would be unable to move. This would scare him even further, and he would often go on thinking he had died and was trapped in his own body. Death, disease, plague. The lights weren't even off and he already found himself falling down the nightly hole of horror.
Diya struggled to compose himself for even a moment. Sitting up in his bed, he reached into his bag and pulled out a small orange bottle of pills. Diya's adoptive father was a successful Doctor in Japan. When he began having more intense nightmares, his father took him to see a sleep specialist in Tokyo. After a sleep study, the specialist diagnosed him with Dream Anxiety Disorder, or Nightmare Disorder. It takes a toll on a seven-year-old to be told that they'll likely have nightmares for their entire life. Luckly, the meds he was prescribed made him have no dreams at all.
Diya hadn't had a nightmare in almost three years, when he forgot to take his pill at a friend's overnight birthday party. His screams woke up the entire house and his mom had to pick him up at two in the morning. But having nightmares every night until a boy is seven distorts how he will view a simple event like sleeping. Even without nightmares, Diya felt fear every night before his eyes closed.
He took a deep breath and took a single white pill out of the bottle, swallowing it dry. No nightmares tonight. No nightmares tonight. No nightmares tonight. Diya repeated this mantra to himself every night as his eyes closed.
Ichiro Nagata got home around three in the morning. The house was almost entirely dark with the exception of one light at the end of the hall. He set down his coat and walked to the last room in the hallway. He poked his head into Diya's room and saw him asleep in his hoodie and jeans from that day. Ichiro sighed. He hated seeing his son wear the same clothes constantly to begin with, and even more to see him in bed in those same clothes, but he was happy to see him sleeping.
Although he could be a rather stern father, Ichiro checked on Diya every night. The difference between the two was obvious; Ichiro was a short, stout man with neatly cut hair. Diya was much taller than either of his adoptive parents. His naturally dark skin was instantly noticeable in Japan, and was often a source of teasing growing up. His hood could always be found covering up his cleanly shaven head. Ichiro looked to his right to confirm his wife wasn't around before slightly smiling to himself. What luck I had to have a son like Diya, he thought to himself before turning off Diya's light for him. Just like he did every night.