Author's Note: Oh yes::punches the air and tries a round-house kick, falling on her bum: ite-ite...My second fanfic on this account, unfortunately, but this one I'm continuing no matter what. My other Silent Hill epic lost its luster after half of its pages were lost as well, but I'm gonna kick my ass into gear, toughen up and just rewrite it again, 'cause that one had potential. Many thanks to Bazu-kun, the other author of this account, for a much-needed beta. :bow: Hope you like, take care and have fun::blows a kiss and jingles her bell collar:

Warnings: Language, violence, and homosexual sex. Maybe not explicitly, I'll have to decide if it's worth the freakin' idgits (Irish) that run around going, "Oooh, I know M means Mature, and lookie! IT SAYS YAOI-HAHA-HOMO? What's that! Oh well!...Oh nyuu, my virgin eyes! Mummy!" I'll hunt you all down someday. With a smile.

Disclaimer: I do not own DNAngel, just Mana Matsushita and Marise Fujiko. DNAngel remains dear bunny-sensei and Auska's property, I'm only using it for hot bumsex of my whimsy. Thank you

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Magical luminescent fireflies danced across the dark, non-reflective body of watery sky one by one, lights popping on to illuminate spirits coming alive during the twilight hours. Its collective brightness turned the murky firmament into a false morning, but still cast shadows along every curve, corner or bend, permitting creatures to slink unseen.

Midnight scarf fluttering lifelessly to and fro in a late summer breeze, Daisuke gazed down from his perch on a cathedral pyre to the ground below, trained to the tamer's intent destination. The auction house. Guards were posted at the back entrance, front, and he knew rather than saw that their attention was set to windows and fire escapes. However, surprisingly, no men were stationed on top the two-story structure, nothing but a small latch that probably had been there since the building's initial construction some years ago. This was the attic, for in olden days paintings and other auction items had been carelessly stored there for safekeeping, and because of its age, was overlooked when the police were deigned to secure the premises.

/All right, Daisuke, there's our opening. It's almost time/ the tamer's partner said, seriousness lacing his words. But he still offered the redhead an encouraging smirk. His smirk faltered when Daisuke bade him only a silent acknowledgement, some hidden sorrow, maybe even fear closing off Daisuke so tightly from Dark that even he couldn't understand what it could be. Usually they shared a strong empathy. Now the tamer's every thought was sealed away under lock and key.

The ever-growing distance between them started after a nightmare a few days prior, one that Dark himself had not witness while Daisuke slept, and Emiko worried for her son after that night that he'd become cold and despondent. He hadn't become what she feared but his amiable smiles and cheerfulness were a watered down version compared to the real thing.

"Mana Matsushita was a widowed, acclaimed artist around the time of your grandfather, even top around the Hikaris," Daisuke's mother had explained, a frown creasing her brow when he acknowledged the information with a simple nod, staring blankly at his shoes. "Her last work was just found and will be bid upon. Art historians and collectors are coming all over to try and get it. I put the warning out for their late gallery…Daisuke, will you be ok?"

Phantom Dark had actually begun to worry for the boy.

Down below, amongst the streets, a young lady appeared from a classy car, so immaculately kept like a toy, waving her chauffer off. A delicate designer jacket was draped around tiny shoulders, making her look smaller than she probably was.

Daisuke nodded to himself, knowing this girl was part of the heist tonight. For the first time for what seemed hours, he offered Dark a small "good luck", ashamed as salty tears began to run down his cheeks as he concentrated on what he loved most but could never have and allowed the transformation. I can't let him know, I can't let myself be weak.

The change had already occurred as Dark's hand flew up, trying to wipe away his companion's tears, mentally cursing as the wetness was already gone, and his own cheek dry. I can never comfort him…Usually Dark Mousy tried not to get too tied up in other's affairs if he could help it, but…

With rubbed soothingly against his other master, the warmth of its fur morphing into the dark-haired man's hand. The kaitouh couldn't help but smile, raven feathers curling against his back, focusing on the job at hand, placing Daisuke's plight for later. Balanced on the pyre's tip, he threw out his arms and let gravity embrace him, falling into the wind's cure.

As the girl approached the auction house, a single tuft of black-looking snow fluttered down and she caught it with two fingers, running the plumage against her cheek. A barrel-chested guard greeted her, stood aside and resumed his position.

The clock tower chimed its tolling hour, waiting for the last and twelfth resounding ring.

Soundless, seamless, like a graceful cat curling into a seductive arch, Dark landed onto the roof, all fours, and prowled to the unguarded latch, intent on crawling down to take his new work of art. /Dai...look at all this beautiful work left behind, forgotten/ he said, amazed, canvases littering everywhere, overthrown with clothes. It was a shame to let pieces of someone's soul and devotion collect with neglectful dust.

Distantly, below, a voice came loud and clear through the thickness of the rafters. "My cue," the thief told himself, stealing away with all skill and grace to the halls behind the auction room, leapt up through naked pipes and listened to an elderly man address the assembly, tires curling with mirth at all the betting peoples' eager little faces.

/Menou/ Dark started, to his chagrin, as his tamer blurted out suddenly, shock and befuddlement evident in his voice. /That girl looks almost exactly like her/

Ripples of light encased the painting in pools of gold against the wall, creating a halo along the young woman's hair. The kaitouh blinked widely, a little taken aback by the really uncanny resemblance to the poor girl that had been entrapped by the Agus Linx inadvertently by Daiki those years ago. He noticed two very distinguishing features that set them apart, however. Menou had enchanting forest-green eyes, soft and round as a beautiful field, but this girl pinned him with sharp, liquid silver irises, slightly wavy blonde tresses only falling below her trim waist and black handkerchief skirt.

Dark quelled an uneasy lurch when the Menou look-a-like glimpsed in his direction with a knowing smile, once again letting the shadows envelope him. Her aura continued to haunt his mind. / I have this gut feeling Daisuke...Like maybe she saw me./ Daisuke did not answer him and his heart sank, so he continued swiftly through the storage rooms, down through a spiraling staircase to the basement.

Tinkling laughter flit down the halls, a quiet aristocrat-like noise. No other sound filled the commons or corridors. The guards held their positions, flanked by Takeshi's father, whom eyed the auction house receptionist's clock as if it were a countdown until Doom's Day. C'mon...One more time, Phantom Dark. Show yourself...

"The late Mana Matsushita, worldly known as Akibara, will finally have her last and most cherished Rosa Amator, also known as Rose Lover and Lover's of Destiny, auctioned off by her own granddaughter, Ms. Marise Fujiko. Ms. Marise?" the auctioneer implored, politely stepping aside from the podium. Marise gave a small little bob of her head and stepped up. Everyone broke out into excited exclamations, mostly commenting on her resemblance to her grandmother when she was a youthful, stunning lady.

Marise's lips curved slightly, just oh-so slightly to show everyone assessing her just how 'interested' she was in them. The members' number cards sat in each lap, waiting for the bidding to begin, craving to get their hands on the last and most precious piece of Mana Matsushita. A pack of ravenous wolves they were, coming to feed on the final tender morsel of meat. They did not care for her grandmother any other way at all. What kind of woman she was or why she hadn't sold this painting ever before. That's why the sweet, mellifluous words that came from her felt so good. "I am afraid to inform you...that I won't be auctioning this painting at all, actually."

A stunned, hushed crawl fell to the crowd now, especially Marise's lawyers, stricken with humiliation. What? Was this a joke?

"I only first agreed to auction this piece after it was found, by my own lawyer's request, even when my gran'mother's last words were, 'Never let the roses die, keep them close Marise. Let the thorns pierce your skin.'" She smiled thinly at her lawyers themselves and reveled in the twos' squirming. "I'm overdue in firing them anyway, I think. I need a new representative." The two men shifted nervously, loosening their ties, trying to laugh as if to convince themselves and everyone else she was joking. What a curious girl!

Deep within the building's inner workings, Dark overheard her speak, the words bouncing around him, as his hands were inches from cutting the auction house's power. /Daisuke, did you hear her/

/I did Dark...What do we do/ Dark's host finally gasped fearfully. They had to make quick work of these unlikely series of events.

"I'm sorry to inform you that I'm not in the least bit joking. My mind is made and my mother's lawyer's informed me the painting was granted to me in my gran'ma's will.

"I made a promise to Menou...Marise..."

"Menou was your twin sister, right gran'ma...? Who said she had a guardian angel...?"

"But for those who are avid lovers of her work, you will be able to see it in museums all around the continent, beginning with our own, beside her other works in loving memory. Then, it will come back to my own estate where it will remain and become the heirloom of my family."

An undignified uproar erupted from the auctioneers', livid at this spoiled girl's rational. Everybody began to make a scene, protesting for all their worth, the layers of dignified society melting away to the true selfishness of their upbringing and desires. How dare she; how dare she!

As they continued to rant, Marise merely bowed once more, ignorant to the din of shouts, and smiled. A last request of a family member is above all else...

Insistent yells turned to screams of panic as the lights shut off, like an enormous wing covering the sun. Collective shrieks of "Dark Mousy!" surrounded them.

Screeching of chairs made Marise wince and she covered her ears, letting out a breathy gasp as an arm secured around her waist, a velvet voice soothing, "Don't scream." She nodded and allowed herself a small grin, before the hollow flutter of wings filled the room.

Agent Saehara and his squad swarmed in all around, rifles ready and loaded, the team leader motioning three men to the structure's basement to turn the lights back on.

Saehara huffed all the way to the front of the room, blinking blurrily as the lights popped back on. The auction house's owner, Ken Yuzuha was sat on a chair with his head in his hands and a blank look on his face. People continued to panic and fret, hurrying out the designated exits like a wild stampede. The detective rubbed a dull headache piercing his temple, muttering angrily under his breath.

The painting and Marise Fujiko were gone. Commander was going to be very displeased but he wouldn't go down without a fight. The detective turned toward Ken and held up a single, raven-black feather to him, watching him jump. "Tell me what you saw."

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Outside the courthouse was placid and inviting, the twilight hour beckoning them. Dark carefully landed with Marise in his arms, her small fingers tightly clutching the painting to her. She finally peeked her eyes open, coming from a high of being whisked away into the air like a fairytale. The shorter girl blushed and murmured, "I'm fine now."

She fixed her skirt when the phantom thief set her down with a long bow and flirtatious wink; hand fixed on his hip as his gaze roamed along her. "Looks definitely run the family," he teased, leaning down to take her delicate chin in his gloved fingers.

Marise played up the part, fluttering her lashes; playfully slapping his hand away as it, or so he had thought, deftly touched the painting. "Nuh-uh, dear thief. I made a promise that I'm going to keep. This lured you in quite well." Dark tried to mask a surprised look. "I bet he looks just like his gran'father did," she continued with that knowing look again.

/Dark! Do you think she's saying what I think she's saying/

/It could be Daisuke. This little bird is intriguing me more and more./ "Well, well, so your grandmother told you about me? My charm sure lingers."

"Oh yes, it's left quite an…. Impression...Tall, dark, and handsome." She came closer, almost touching her lips with his. Internally Marise fretfully prayed the infamous phantom Dark and Daisuke Niwa's grandson were really ready to boldly challenge fate.

Dark smirked at her forwardness, somewhat intoxicated by a heady and flowery scent reaching the young man, oblivious to the intricate 'trap' he was falling in to. He put a hand to his chest when a wave of sudden deep-rooted, hopeless sadness made him weak in the knees. /D-Daisuke…/

/….Dark…/

Marise's eyes flashed when her unsuspecting prey was ensnared, rough but crisp words falling like lead from hurried lips, "Tribuo in duos quod fio unus pro infinito…" A rush came; powerful and swift. The incantation struck Dark like a lethal blow, sending him sprawling and seeing…seeing himself still standing and Daisuke falling down instead. Daisuke's eyes widened, mirroring his own horror and they reached for each other.

Tribuo in duos…

Fingers brushed. Why didn't I feel the trap?

Quod fio unus…

"Daisuke, what's going on? Grab my hand!"

"Dark, I-"

Pro infinito

Darkness.

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Author's Note: Dearly Beloved, if you so shall grace me, reply with comments and constructive criticism::bows low again: Author's feed on reviews, I swear! It's a known fact...thus I have been starved for so long. xx