AN: I do not write that weird yaoi, I do not like the boy on boy. I do not like it here or there, I do not like it anywhere. I do not write that weird yaoi, So don't expect it, girls and boys! A poem just to let you know that my intentions are entirely pure. They're friends only, got it? FRIENDS! I don't begrudge you your likings, but I don't see the need for it, didn't see it in the anime or manga, hence didn't include it. Sorry to disappoint some of you. Please R&R anyway?
Anyway, to those of you who are currently reading my Yu-Gi-Oh! fic, The Collector, please forgive me for not posting in two months. I'm having a bit of a writer's block in getting more than halfway through my next chappie. This is what came about by a desperate need to write something when I had no ideas for that one. Be assured though, that once I finish the next chapter, I will also post the end, for that is already written. Backwards, I know, but that's how it is. This story is set at the end of the anime series, using that as a basis for some things, but accented with my most current knowledge of the manga. Right now, that means Volume 10, as that was the most recently released, but I'll try to adjust the plot or descriptions or whatever wherever possible if they contradict with me. So, enough of my lack of confidence, you came to read the story! Here goes something!
Four Hearts
Chapter 1
Wings of Black
"Hey Daisuke! Check it out, it's snowing!"
"Yeah? What's so new about that, Takeshi? It snows every year. Eventually."
"Hey, cheer up. You should be happy. Only lunch, a few more periods, and we're off for Winter Break!"
Daisuke glanced out the window at the falling forms of frozen snowflakes, having trouble getting as excited as his perpetually hyper loudmouthed friend. It had been warm all winter and everyone had given up hope of a white Christmas in a week. But the weather was never one to be predicted, and the students of Azumano High had woken to a cold morning and promising grey clouds overhead. It reminded him a lot of last year, warm weather all through autumn until winter. That is, until that day it had snowed. The snowflakes had fallen so clean and pure, a comforting chill against his skin and a blanket of soft white slowly forming. Dark had said it was for him, a thank you for saving the two she had cared for the most. He had saved them, given them their greatest wish. If he could save them, why hadn't he been able to help Dark?
"Is Daisuke Niwa in this class?" The sound of his name snapped him out of his reverie. His gentle red eyes shifted from their absent gaze through the fogging glass to look at the speaker.
"Oh, Mrs. Sugiyama! I'm here. Did I…did I do something wrong?" He asked nervously.
"No, no dear, nothing's the matter," the high school art teacher smiled sweetly. She held up a largish, canvas covered rectangle, hefting it to chest height. "I just wanted to return this to you. Congratulations again on winning the school contest." Striding over to where he was seated, she handed it over to Daisuke. With a final smile, Mrs. Sugiyama turn a walked out of the classroom.
"Wow, Daisuke! Lemme see! What'd you paint?" Takeshi began tearing at the canvas over Daisuke's shoulder.
"Takeshi! Stop it! You could have seen it anytime this whole month while it was on display with the other contest winners!" Daisuke said, vainly trying to keep Takeshi from removing the covering.
"Ah, c'mon Daisuke! You know I never go down the art hallway unless I absolutely have to. C'mon, lemme see!" He put a hand in Daisuke's face and pushed him backward, sending him tumbling to the floor. Takeshi ripped the canvas off to reveal the painting. He ran critical eyes over it as if he were a professional art critic.
On a starry field of midnight blues stretched two graceful black wings highlighted in deep purples and blues of the same colors. A figure in silhouette could be seen behind them, so dark and perfectly hidden as to make it difficult to tell where the wings ended and he began. A single feather was forever frozen at the end of a downward descent, cast in a light absent from the rest of the objects in the painting. From its sharp black tip came a single slash of spiraling red tracing its fall, like bright blood against the prominent darkened tones.
"Aw, Daisuke! Why'd you do a painting of Dark? He's old news, no one's seen him since they say he helped save the town from that weird disaster," Takeshi complained, dropping the artwork on the desk and dragging Daisuke from the floor. "And since when did you care about him, anyway? I always had to drag you around to get you to help me get a scoop on him." Daisuke pulled his arm from Takeshi's grip, a frown on his face and uncharacteristic sadness in his eyes. He picked up his painting, carefully wrapping it up again. Sorrow in every line, he walked from the room, not caring that he was a few minutes early for lunch.
"Daisuke! Wait! I wasn't trying to make you mad! Would it make you feel better if I said I liked your drawing of the stupid thief?" Takeshi shouted at his receding back.
"Shut up, Takeshi! Can't you see you're making it worse! You're such meanie, making poor Daisuke sad!" piped a girl's voice from the back of class. Takeshi stuck out his tongue and showed the red of his eyelid, receiving a squeal of distaste from the girls for his trouble. He walked over to Satoshi's desk, sitting on it and the book he had been reading.
"Yo Hiwatari! You're closer to him than anyone else, except Elder Harada, seeing as how you live with him now your dad's dead from that disaster. What's up with Daisuke?"
"Spoken with your usual tact, Saehara. And I'm not sure what you mean." Satoshi tried to pull his book out from under Takeshi's rear, but gave up as he leaned in towards him, adding more weight on top.
"You know, right now. Weren't you paying attention? He got all mad at me and stormed out of the room! Why? C'mon, I know you know."
Satoshi was pretty sure he did indeed know, and it probably had to do with the upcoming anniversary. Takeshi's words had probably cut deep into his thoughts. But there was no way this idiot would understand all that. And even if he could, Satoshi wouldn't tell.
"I'd probably get upset, too, if you said my prize painting was bad." He stood up, packing his backpack in preparation to leave.
"Bu…I…I didn't! I just said it was old news! I didn't say it sucked!" The bell rang clamorously through the scene. Satoshi picked up his pack and smiled mysteriously at Takeshi through his glasses as he and the rest of the class headed for the door to lunch.
"Oh, and it was a painting, not a drawing."
Daisuke slid down the trunk of the tree, letting the rough bark scratch and stain the back of his uniform shirt, its white blending with the that of the fresh fallen snow. He cradled the painting to his chest, remembering the hours he had spent making it just right, the memories he had known with each stroke of the paintbrush. He knew he had overreacted to Takeshi's comments, but at the moment he didn't care. Maybe after the coming day passed he would be okay, but for now, he kept his promise and remembered.
A few minutes passed, crystal tears leaving sparkling twin paths along his cheeks. People began pouring from the school buildings, laughing, talking, swinging box lunches. He stood slowly, wiping dirt and wet flakes from the seat of his pants and dragging a sleeve across his dripping face. For a while he just stood there, watching the gaiety of the gathering crowd of students as they enjoyed their afternoon meal. Soon the bell rang its discordant tune and they all proceeded to pack up and head inside. Daisuke turned to the other side of the rough trunk, beginning to head to the track for Phys. Ed. Behind him, the snow lay disturbed, an interruption of the perfection slowly filling in by the steady fall.
"Probably going to cancel class with this weather. Oh! I should put my painting in my locker first." Once more, he turned around, retracing his steps and following his footprints to avoid further defiling the peaceful whiteness. He reached the tree he had stood at and started to head back to the main building, but stopped short. A man was standing only a few feet away, staring at him with a humorless smile on his face. Daisuke squinted into the light reflecting off the bright snow as the man approached him.
"Daisuke Niwa. Nice to meet you. Could you come with me for a moment?"
"Uh…I'm sorry, sir. I…have to get to class," Daisuke smiled awkwardly, a little nervous about the man's expression. He began walking again, trying to get some distance between him and the strange man. But a strong hand gripped his wrist and pulled him back.
"I'm sorry, too. I didn't mean that as a request."
By the end of school, Satoshi was worried; Daisuke hadn't showed up for classes after lunch. He was afraid Daisuke might have run off somewhere. He stopped a girl from their class as she passed him.
"Miss Akeda, have you seen Daisuke? He wasn't in class today."
"Really? I saw him at the end of lunch, so he must have been here today."
"Did you see where he went?"
"No, but he was talking with a man I didn't recognize. Maybe it was the art teacher, 'cause I heard them talking about Daisuke's painting. Except he called it 'Black Wings,' and I thought Daisuke had named it 'Wings of Black.' Oh, well. It's not like I paid too much attention to it, so I might have been wrong."
Satoshi frowned as she walked off. He had called it 'Wings of Black.' He didn't like the mention of the former title, particularly since he knew there were no male art teachers. He went out to the lunch area where he himself had seen Daisuke earlier. Following the nearly faded path to the tree, he stopped. There, in the snow, lay Daisuke's painting, amidst a dirty splotch of churned up snow.
Carefully rewrapping the colorful canvas in its wrapping, he picked up 'Wings of Black,' looking about for any clues as to what had happened. From the initial site of what appeared to be a struggle, a path of footprints led away. But only one set was visible, whereas two, one most likely Daisuke's, had come in.
"What happened, Daisuke?" he asked to empty air.
AN: Okay, how'd you like the first chapter? Well, stay tuned, I've got another one coming up for you right now: The Mysterious Man.