Part Eleven - First Dawn
"There," Jirou said, pointing to an alley between two of the buildings below them. His captor, or savior, or whatever he was merely grunted in approval and descended to the location Jirou specified. The boy's head was spinning and his soul was still flying as he was deposited unceremoniously back on his feet on the shabby concrete. At least he'd been dropped on his feet this time.
Krad flexed his wings and flung them out a few times as if Jirou had contaminated them before folding them neatly against his back. "Well, get on with it. Where is the ice?" Krad crossed his arms.
Jirou shook his head, then thought better of it as stars formed in his vision. "We can get it in a second, but first you need a disguise," he said matter-of-factly. "Just wait here, I'll be right back," he said, his throat going dry as he met the stranger's eyes. He could almost taste the hatred in Krad's expression. "Please don't go anywhere," he pleaded warily, backing away. With that gaze trained on him, it was astonishing that he dreaded leaving the angel as much as he dreaded coming back.
He stepped backwards until he reached the mouth of the alley, then gestured again for Krad to stay, turned, and ran. Around the corner was a thrift shop he passed on the way to school. He ran inside, startling the dozing shopkeeper. Rummaging quickly through the small selection of merchandise, he quickly swiped up a large gray men's coat and brought it to the counter. All he could think of was what if the angel was gone when he got back. What if none of this was real. Murmuring an apology to no one in particular, he pulled out his dad's emergency credit card, paid for the garment and rushed back out. His heart pounded in his throat, harder and harder as he ran for the alley and turned into it.
The man was there, standing crossly in the center of the alley with his wings pulled tightly in to avoid touching anything. Jirou stood perfectly still and listened to his life beat in his chest and brain. Those eyes were ready to kill. Seriously, happily ready. This person would be amused to see him dead; he felt it in his gut. That was rather unsettling. He didn't think Krad would kill him, but he for damn sure wouldn't save him, either. Not a second time. At that moment, Jirou knew it was stupid to enter back into the alley. He set his jaw…
And did it anyway.
"Put this on," Jirou said, holding out the coat as he walked straight up to Krad.
The white angel eyed the garment without touching it. "You expect me to wear this?"
"You can't walk around with those things hanging out," Jirou said, sticking to his guns. "We'll never get ice if you get us arrested first."
"I'm aware of that, you idiot," Krad snapped, lifting the coat and scrutinizing it. The dull gray fabric reflected minimally in the streetlight.
Jirou watched Krad's peculiar reaction, becoming confused. "If you know, then wear it. Or… Don't tell me you hate the color or something?"
Krad's expression flinched strangely, but the reaction didn't last long enough for Jirou to make any sense of it. "It's fine. Let us go," the angel said, throwing the coat on and walking swiftly out of the alley. It hung near his ankles, barely enclosing the long wings that folded tightly along his back.
Ten minutes later, they were inside the grocery store and Jirou was pulling a plastic sack of ice from one of their ice boxes. Casting a sidelong glance at the angel, he turned and made his way toward the checkout counter. The shopkeeper there mumbled a cheerful good evening and began ringing them up. Jirou kept glancing back at the angel to be sure he was there. It was far beyond strange, having a supernatural being bitterly follow him around a supermarket, but his headache discouraged him from thinking about it too hard.
Krad left the store ahead of him, and Jirou had to grab his purchase and run to catch up. Out on the street, he reached Krad's side and trotted slightly to keep up with the angel's stride. When he spotted a bench, however, he stopped following and sat down on it, taking a deep breath.
Krad stopped. The angel glared slowly over his shoulder, pondering the gutsy child. Jirou was fishing a handful of ice out of the bag and cupping it against his forehead. The approach didn't seem very effective. Soon melt-water was dripping through his fingers and down his nose, but it seemed to make the kid happy. Krad rolled his eyes and leaned against a tree planted in the sidewalk behind the bench.
"Hey," Jirou murmured, still melting ice on his head. "Do you have a name?"
"No," Krad groaned in frustration. How many stupid questions was the kid going to ask?
"You've got to have some kind of name," Jirou prodded.
"None that you're worthy to speak."
Jirou opened his eyes enough to look at the angel, wondering what that tone was in his voice. He almost sounded offended, the kind of reaction you got when you flirted with someone who was already taken. Did he have someone like that? The possibility of this stranger having companions or relatives had completely failed to strike him until now. "Who's worthy to speak it, then?" Jirou demanded. Of course he'd seen it coming, but the angel's rejection was a slap anyway.
"No one!" Krad snarled, really angry now, "Not one of you loathsome vermin!"
"But-"
"If you plan to contest me, I will destroy you right now," Krad glowered, his hand rising out toward the boy and forming a fist. Jirou let out a helpless gasp as an unseen force lifted him by his neck off the ground and pressed in on his throat like a vise. He wheezed out a futile protest, staring at Krad in astonished fear. He twisted his head as if to wrench free, causing his owlish glasses to slide down his nose.
Krad watched the boy squirm for a long moment. There was no mistaking it; the kid's hair and figure were just like those of his pathetic former wing host. That being said, a desperate excitement rippled through him as the child writhed in pain before his eyes. "Remember this, boy. Servants are seen and not heard. Your precious human throat means nothing to me, so keep your questions to yourself," he said flatly, and released his spell.
Jirou landed on his feet and managed not to collapse. His body was shaking all over, his head pounding again. This was no game he was playing. This person was not a toy, nor was he a savior. More than likely, he was some kind of monster. And he was absolutely amazing. But only an idiot would admire a villain… Apparently, he was stupider than he'd thought.
"So you expect me to just be your servant," Jirou asked hoarsely, holding his throat with one hand.
"I have no other use for you," Krad confirmed.
The boy stared at him, and at the lamplit streets surrounding them. A policeman had turned the corner and was watching them carefully. If he wanted to make a clean break, now was the time to run for it.
"Fine."
Krad tilted his head at the boy, half expecting something more to come from his lips, but Jirou remained silent. Krad said nothing. He turned and began walking down the road.
Jirou took a deep breath. He picked up the unused ice he'd left on the bench and chucked it harshly into the waste bin as he followed behind the angel. The angry clang haunted the entire street before drowning back into the silent night air.
Krad afforded a faint glance over his shoulder. The boy was following a few paces behind him, and not speaking a word. That was more like it.
The angel walked the city for hours. He'd memorized the streets early on, but still seemed driven to keep walking. He'd only stopped to order Jirou into a late-night store for pre-packaged onigiri – a bizarre selection, coming from someone who acted like a supervillain. His silent and rather exhausted 'servant' studied his behavior discreetly, never falling too far behind. Jirou couldn't see Krad's face, but the angel's movements seemed agitated. He wanted to know what he was thinking about, but then he wanted to know a thousand things. Like why the hell he was still following him when his legs felt like giving out and his head was going on strike.
When the boy could begin to see the orange hues of dawn creeping into the horizon, he finally jogged up in front of the angel and pointed to a hotel they were passing.
"Do I look tired to you?" Krad said.
"Yes."
Krad narrowed his eyes at the boy. Judging by the fact that he didn't feel moved to argue or even expend the energy to strike at the kid, it was possible he was actually right. "Not there," he said, and continued walking past the entrance to the hotel.
"I can't exactly bring you home with me, you know," Jirou said carefully.
Krad didn't respond, and Jirou walked next to him tiredly. Three rejected hotels later, Jirou stopped in front of the last hotel on the block and looked back at the angel expectantly. Krad looked up at the building, numbly reading the red neon sign that stretched up its side. "You stay here," Krad finally said.
"Wha-? Where are you planning to sleep?" Jirou protested. "You can't get a bed without money."
Krad shook his head, not really seeming annoyed, and went on walking.
Jirou prepared himself for anything and began following.
"What?" Krad demanded without breaking pace or looking back.
"I'm not staying behind." Jirou watched Krad's back carefully, thinking he saw the angel take a deep breath, or a sigh. He braced his legs for another long stint of walking.
They'd gone another five minutes down a side street when Krad stopped in place and unfastened his coat. He pulled it off and rested it over his arm, wings stretching skyward as he turned to Jirou. "I cannot sleep in this city," he said, walking toward the boy. Jirou just locked eyes with the Angel until he had to arch his neck up to see his face, not backing away.
"Let's go then," Jirou said. In response, the Angel's arms gripped around him, less harshly than last time, and he held his breath as they rose into the sky. Again, that soaring feeling swept over him.
As he caught an updraft and soared far above the city, heading for the sea, Krad tried not to notice the kid's jubilation. It made him sort of want to drop him. As he reached the edge of the city, where great cliffs dropped down to the ocean, he felt himself relax just a bit, despite his worrisome cargo. Here, the air reeked a bit less of humanity. A human's overnight quarters was about the last place he could think of wanting to sleep. He'd sooner lie on bare rock for the night.
"Hey, it's the park," Jirou murmured as he spotted the long stone walkway and the old marble fountain. Well, not exactly the old one; it had been rebuilt since the earthquakes that damaged the city two years ago. That thought made the boy remember something. "There used to be an opening in that cliff below the fountain. My dad would point it out to me when we went out fishing."
Krad followed the boy's stare to the fountain below them. He knew the park well, as he'd chosen that place for he and Dark's resurrection, but not the cave Jirou spoke of. Tipping his wings into the breeze, he soared in a low arc along the wall of the cliff. Sure enough, there was an area near the water where the rocks flattened inward to a large oval crevice. Krad smirked and landed with the boy at the mouth of the cave. This was excellent.
He looked into the cave and around at the ocean surrounding them, the sunrise slowly budding on the horizon, and couldn't help being awed. Art was in his blood, a fundamental element of his existence as a creation of the Hikari family. He stared at the horizon with sun-gold eyes glazed with feeling, earnestly watching the colors grow. That glorious, unborn sunrise was the first thing he'd longed for other than revenge since he'd claimed this body. He both resented and reveled in the helpless emotion. No longer was he trapped in a world of colorless dust, nor behind the eyes of another. He was alive, for himself alone, breathing, seeing, feeling, alone.
"There are feathers on the ground," the boy spoke from behind him, breaking him of his thoughts.
Krad turned and looked at him blankly, as if he had no idea what could possibly matter besides the horizon right now.
"Look," Jirou clarified, holding up a black feather that was nearly two feet long.
Krad focused on it, then looked down. There were, in fact, several more of the long plumes scattered about the rock. The angel's observation led him to an almost climbable path that led up the cliff. It wouldn't have seemed like a path at all if not for the fact that the soil there seemed recently disturbed, leaving a pile of debris scattered at the edge of the cave's entrance.
The angel frowned at the path. Ignoring the boy's confused stare, he beat his wings and rose up along the cliff's edge, following the path until it reached a flat ledge wide enough to stand on. Or fall on, the angel noted as he came eye level with it. The ledge was scattered with black feathers, more than any single bird could normally shed and far too long to belong to one anyway. Krad's expression fell into a disgruntled frown. What the hell was this? A suicide attempt?
He landed on the slab and knelt to stare at the dried blood that was stained across the rock. He smeared his finger against it, and felt the unmistakable trace of Dark's magic ripple nauseously up his arm. Had Dark gone insane? Or maybe someone found his body, and threw it… He couldn't have been attacked this quickly. Krad peered down into the rocky waters churning at the base of the cliff. That's not possible…
"Hey, the sun's coming up," the kid called up to him, drawing Krad's eyes away from the water. He looked up at the horizon, where the sun had risen far enough to make the angel squint. How long had he been standing there?
Krad's wings shot out and he dropped back to the cave level, landing next to Jirou. He walked straight back in the cave, drawing a curious stare from the boy. "Is everything okay? You seemed spaced out…"
"What did I tell you about stupid questions," Krad snarled, stooping down and reclining against the inner wall of the cave.
Jirou bit his tongue and followed Krad inside, sitting down next to him.
"You go on that side," the angel asserted, gesturing toward the opposite part of the cave. The boy stood obediently and moved as instructed. When he was settled, he watched Krad's shadowed form on the other side of the cave.
"Can I at least tell you my name?"
"No."
"It's Jirou."
The boy yelped as a spell grabbed him by the hair and thumped his head soundly against the wall behind him. Krad lowered his glowing hand, the magic dissipating into the cave. "Go. To. Sleep!" Krad slid down to the floor and rolled on his side with his back to the persistent child. His second morning in his new form passed by unnoticed as he closed his eyes and accepted sleep. Jirou rubbed his head and stared at the angel. He knew he'd just acted stupidly, and he was lucky he wasn't hurt worse for it. He had to admit he was exhausted as well. "Goodnight then, 'Master'," he said sourly, crossing his arms and slumping down against the stone wall.
To be continued…
-oOo-
Well, there's another chapter! I'm sorry it was just Krad and Jirou this time. Not as much shopping as I originally planned, since I couldn't pull it off without taking Krad out of character, but it was still fun. Poor Jirou is an abused child. I'm very curious to hear what people thought of this chapter - I took a few risks with the pacing and am wondering how it panned out. Next chapter – Dark learns the truth about Daisuke's kidnapping, and Daisuke meets his captors up close and personal.
Notes for reviewers (I was late in adding these in to the chapter, as I finished it just as I was getting out the door for holiday travel, but hopefully you guys will find them):
CelticGoddess09 – I'm glad Jirou's working out! The pairings should be becoming apparent over the next couple of chapters (Finally some romance! I can't wait!) Thanks for reviewing!
Determinedtowin – Hmm, well I'll just allow the Dark torture until your friends convince me otherwise or pillow you in the face –evil laugh- . As my friend says, "The beatings will continue until morale improves." Thank you as always for reading!
Super Goat Girl – Oh, nice to meet you! You and Bunny Girl should let me know what you're writing so I can read it! You're right, Riku and Risa are a bit different, and you may find Daisuke to be that way too. I'll do my best to flesh it out so the change is believable. I felt a lot of the immaturities the characters showed in their 14-15 range (some of which I wasn't fond of) would be things they would change as they matured into adults. Risa especially had a few traits that were sore points for me, such as selfishness and blindness to people's feelings, and it's been interesting to write her older self as someone a bit more emotionally aware. Thank you for the review!
Kaira4248 – Thank you for the support! I'll do my best.
Poisoned Black Rose – On the one hand, I guess Dark doesn't really deserve to be tortured. On the other hand… I like the way you think!! –cackles-. Thanks for reviewing as always!
Stormshadow13 – Haha, I'm glad someone got the funnel thing! So happy you're enjoying the vet stuff; he'll be back. Thank you!
More up soon!
-Kat