And I Hate You So


Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. All DN Angel characters belong to Yukiru Sugisaki.

Sakura-Angel: All right, so to start things off, this is my first Dn Angel fic. The pair starring in this fic are something I just decided to try because I like a challenge. It's a kind of experiment, I guess you could say.

Dark: Sakura-Angel is also a bum and copied the idea for this fic from a movie starring Kelly Chen and Aaron Kwok.

Sakura-Angel: TT_TT Yes. I admit it. The idea for this fic was spawned by the movie 'And I Hate You So', and I love that movie, dammit! It's been a year or so since I've seen it, so I can't tell you who directed it, but I don't claim that either...

Dark: Great! Now let's get on with my story, okay?

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A young woman of 23 walked into the rundown little shop cheerfully, escaping the spring wind, bags of odds and ends in her hands. "Risa! I'm here!" She shut the door with her hip. A strand of her shoulder length auburn hair got into her face and she blew it out of the way.

"Hey sis! Put it on the counter, will ya?" A head with longer auburn hair peeked out from the back.

"Can do," Riku Harada replied. She sighed. She loved her sister, but she could be a real idiot sometimes.

Risa owned a little odds and ends shop in the heart of downtown Tokyo, an advanced garage sale if you will. She had studied piano for awhile but had gotten bored of playing, but taught students at night and maintained her shop in the day. She was very pretty, much prettier than herself, Riku thought, even if they were twin sisters. But she thought that her little sister could've become so much more if she hadn't been such a procrastinator with her studies.

Riku on the other hand, was an aspiring journalist and currently wrote a little section for the paper. It was sort of an advice column/ place for her thoughts. People knew her as a very strong individual, generous and chocked full of opinions. But she didn't make enough money off the newspaper bit, so she lived with her generous friend Daisuke, who gave her room and board until she could get on her feet. 'Thank God for Daisuke.' Riku thought.

Risa walked in and straightened her shirt out. "What'd you bring for me today?" She skipped over to the other side of the counter and started digging through the bags. "Oh! Good thing you're giving this away, it'd look horrible on you," Risa held a neon orange tank top in front of her sister's torso, imagining her in it.

Riku gave a smile and mock sigh to her sister and stepped over towards the records, lined up against the wall closest to her left. Risa continued going through the latest batch of items her sister had decided to donate as Riku began flipping through the records, not really looking for anything. "Hey!" She snatched up a record and took a closer look.

"What?" Risa edged closer.

"This was his..." She peered even closer, if possible. 'That little...' "You remember Takeshi?"

"Oh, that reporter wannabe?"

"Yeah," Riku pointed towards some red pen on the record cover. "I gave this to him as a birthday gift, stupid little..."

The record was an old one, one of Takeshi's favourites, Frank Sinatra. It was autographed by the man himself and it had took Riku a long time to accquire it. The red pen read, in Riku's neat hand, 'Happy Birthday Takeshi! Much Love, Riku'.

"What? You give him an autographed Frank Sinatra record and he goes and sells it to me, like some worthless piece of junk?" Risa suddenly realized she wasn't helping.

Riku tried holding her anger in. "I am so glad that's over!" Her amber eyes started watering.

Risa moved in instinctively. She could tell when her sister needed comforting. "You still miss him, don't you?"

Riku didn't realize that her head had lowered until she lifted it up again. "He just left..." Her hand gripped the record even tighter. "He just left me like I was nothing..." She ran over to the rack and dropped the record in a slot and ran out.

"Riku..." Risa looked out into the streets and saw her sister splashing through the puddles, running clumsily through the crowd.

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"And that was Kelly Chen with 'Heart Too Soft'," the suave radio host checked the clock on the wall. "Well, that concludes today's show, I'll see you all later! Thanks for listening!" He hastily grabbed a switch and yanked off his headphones, swivelling his chair around. 'Gotta get out, gotta get out...' The sought-after purple-haired young man grabbed his coat and flew out of the room.

"Dark!"

Oh hell . He turned around and plastered a smile on his face. "Hoshino-san, how are you?"

"You silly! I told you, you can call me Mikiko!" She smiled a bit too cheerfully. "And I'm fine! Your show was so great!"

Dark looked over to the door, plotting the exact moment he would dash out. "Thanks so much, it really wasn't. You're very sweet."

"Aww, you're embarassing me!" She giggled.

He just kept smiling, eyes flicking over to the opening every now and again. 'I am going to die like this, aren't I?' He stealthily edged over towards the door. "Well, I gotta get going, see ya!" He dashed out, letting out a small sigh. He took the stairs [convieniently right next to the studio he was in], as always, and arrived in the parking lot. He felt a little safer.

He was usually a people-person and was well-known for his upbeat, spontaneous, witty nature. But that girl just creeped the shit out of him. He had been working at the station for what, three months? And his show was a hit, whether he wanted to admit it or not. It featured music from all over the globe and a host everyone found very charming. Including that rabid, horrible excuse for a radio show host. She was, unfortunately, the manager's daughter, so he couldn't say anything overly brash to her. Dark crossed the street to get to the little coffee shop he frequented, but was knocked over when a hard bundle of what smelled like pear crashed into him.

It was a girl. And a very pretty one at that.

"Are you alright, miss?"

"Fine. Thank you for catching me, sir," she replied with a tear-filled voice. She didn't bother looking at him.

He observed what he could see of her. Auburn hair, cut off at the shoulders. Beige jacket that reached below her hips. Stylish black boots. Skirt that ended mid-thigh.

People didn't know it, but Dark was very observant. There were a lot of things people didn't know about him, he realized. He broke out of his reverie when...

"I have to go," she tore herself away from his slightly comforting hold and ran in the direction of her friend Daisuke's apartment.

He got up and looked after her. 'Runs really fast, even in boots.' He thought to himself. He then realized he was standing in the middle of the street. He looked around nervously at the puzzled crowd and continued on his way to the coffee shop.

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After his cup of french vanilla, Dark decided to look for some new music to play on his show. He pulled open the door to a little shop. The place was a bit musty, but the evergreen-painted wood made it look charming. The scent of pear lingered in the air.

He looked over at the counter where he saw a girl who looked like the one who had bumped into him. In fact, shorten the hair, put her in boots, and... "Hi! What are you looking for?"

"Just some music," he said, half-amazed at how similar they sounded.

"I have some records over here, if you'd like to see them."

"Of course," Dark managed.

Risa couldn't figure out why the handsome stranger seemed so... awkward around her. She decided to shrug it off.

"He's supposed to be pretty good, right?" Dark held up a record with red pen on the cover.

'Riku's record...' Risa thought. "Uhh... yeah," Risa kicked herself for being so inarticulate.

"I'll take it," Dark walked over to the counter.

'If she didn't want me to sell it, she would've said something, right?' Risa thought as she was being unconciously led over to the counter by her inner salesperson. "That'll be..."

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Dark stumbled into his apartment with a few bags in tow. He was tired. He lazily stuffed the groceries in the refridgerator and dragged his new record and white-collared shirt over to his bedroom.

Dark Mousy was quite the decorator. His taste coupled with his resources made for a beautiful apartment. His living room featured a couple of paintings, singular pieces of art, both very smooth and clean. Both of landscapes. A cushy black couch stood in front of a scratch-resistant glass coffeetable, which stood in front of a moderately sized television. His sound system was nothing to sneeze at either. The living room led out to a small balcony that faced a large field.

His kitchen had an island dead centre and a stainless steel fridge. The island consisted of a flat stove. Drawers in the island held a toaster and other cooking materials. The counters were made of cedar and on top of them stood a coffeemaker and in between, a sink. Connected to the kitchen was a small eating area, still lit by the sun's rays. The eating area contained what appeared to be a cedar table and two chairs to match. All around the top of the kitchen/eating area were circular lightbulbs with no coverings, mounted on a simple black backing.

The bathroom featured a shower and bathtub, albeit the bathtub was a bit on the small side. The sink matched the one in the kitchen. The mirrors swung out, revealing storage spaces.

Still left were the two bedrooms. One was converted into a computer room with a bookcase that held several different genres, most being realistic fiction. The table that held the computer matched the counters in the kitchen. Shelves rose about the computer for more space, this time being occupied by pictures of travels and people.

Dark's bedroom was currently being occupied by him. The large bed was lavished in bold red sheets and was positioned so that the person on the bed could see anyone walk in. Lights were fixed in above the bed. A large window was also above the bed, both across from the closet. The wall adjacent to the window and closet bore another painting, another calming landscape. A nightstand that held a book was on one side of the bed while nothing was on the other. The space was, presumably, just for dumping stuff into. Like the shirt and the record.

Dark slept on.

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Riku crashed home in a state of utter confusion. 'I thought I was over him. I told myself I wouldn't cry again. So why am I crying?'

Daisuke ran over to his friend, clearly concerned over her abnormal behaviour. "What's wrong?"

She flopped onto the couch, hitting her head on a tape. Daisuke's apartment wasn't the cleanest. She laughed, ironically enough. "Remember Takeshi?"

"Oh no, Riku, not that guy again." Daisuke's red eyes clouded over at the mention of the scum who ditched his friend. Daisuke thought he was an okay guy. Daisuke and him got along pretty good. But then he took off without saying anything to Riku. They were in a relationship, and he broke her heart.

"I found the record I gave to him for his birthday present in my sister's store today."

Daisuke couldn't think of anything helpful to say. He silently cursed his speaking abilities.

"I spent a lot of time at the park today. You know, under the tree where we met, just thinking." Her eyes started watering again. "I thought he was for me. Being a journalist too..."

"Riku, stop it. You're just hurting yourself," Daisuke hated seeing the strongest person he knew so sad over a guy.

"I can't help it," Riku walked towards her room. "I have to get some sleep, Dai. I've got to get my article in to Emiko tomorrow."

"I can tell her you're feeling bad."

Of course, how could she forget? Daisuke had gotten her that job at the paper. Emiko was his mom. Daisuke... always there for her. She ran over and hugged her friend tight. "It's okay. I'll be fine."

All she needed was that record back.

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Dark: That's your dream apartment, isn't it?

Sakura-Angel: Guilty.

Dark: And you gave it to me? *sniff^ I'm touched.

Sakura-Angel: Yeah, well... you are my favourite DN Angel character and bishie.

Dark: Of course I am. Who else could it be?

Sakura-Angel: No one of course... -.-; You know, all you readers could be fantastic and review this.

Dark: Can I keep the shirt?