D. N. Angel Fan Fiction ❯ Snippets ❯ The Craftsman and the Thief ( Chapter 3 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Aldane-Kaz'raya-The Craftsman and the Thief:
 
Disclaimer: I do NOT, repeat-NOT-own DN Angel.
 
Warnings: AU, OOC, language
 
A/N: I apologise for any historical discrepancies in this fanfic.
 
“Wait!” He tore down the streets, ignoring the attention he garnered from everyone. He knew he looked odd, dressed in his `outlandish' garb and with his already striking hair and eyes. The thief was running away as fast as he could, darting through the stalls and into an alleyway. “Hey! I said wait!” He wasn't used to being disobeyed, seeing as he was, after all, the most skilled craftsman in the whole of Alyanda, just short of being royalty.
 
The purse banged against his thigh, its weight both a comfort and a source of distress at the same time. At least I'll eat tonight, he thought as he moved deeper into the heart of the city, a crumbling district known to the locals as `Aldane-Kaz'raya' (pronounced `Al-dah-ne kaz raya')-`ancient heart' in the local dialect.
 
He shot past the silk vendors and the food hawkers, intent on shaking off his chaser. Every so often he would glance back and then curse his short legs. His pursuer was much taller than he was and was obviously in good health, judging from the way he didn't even seem to be out of breath yet. Seeing his destination, he put on a burst of speed, determined to outrun the other.
 
Dark paused for breath, panting. He looked around him and realized that he was in the infamous `Ancient Heart' district. Although it was crumbling and at first sight looked dirty and filthy, it was also a fascinating place. Unfortunately, it was also the worst place for a foreigner like himself to be. He sensed something behind him and turned around to find that Riku, his servant, was running up to him.
 
“Master Dark,” she scolded him, brown eyes annoyed. “You could have gotten lost! What were you thinking?”
 
“I wanted my money back,” Dark replied. Although he was incredibly rich (richer than half the nobles in Mar-Al'dak, his home country, he still didn't like losing the stuff. It wasn't that he was stingy; it was just that it was annoying to lose foreign money, as it meant more hassle operating between currencies.
 
“You shouldn't be here, sir,” she reprimanded him. Even though she was the younger of the two, Dark often felt that Riku was the older sister he'd never had. “It's dangerous.”
 
“I know,” he wearily replied, raking fingers through his purple hair. Unbeknownst to the pair, they were being watched.
 
Daisuke was curious, to say the least. The man he'd just robbed was no native-anyone could see that from his strange clothing. He was obviously very rich, or at least somewhat prosperous; the purse and his servant proved that. He cocked his head to one side, listening intently. Part of him wanted to get back to his hideout, but the other part of him wanted to see what this man would do next. Few ever chased him this far, and few ever continued once they realized that they were in the so-called dangerous part of town. For Aldane-Kaz'raya had a second name, one far less poetic-`Rogues' Heart'.
 
A heavy hand descended on his shoulder and Daisuke fairly jumped before relaxing again-it was just Gen. “Hey there, Dai.” Gen was a giant of a man, thick black brows and a fierce stare belying his nature. In truth, he had a heart of gold and always looked out for the kids in this area. More than once Daisuke had stopped over at his place for a rest on his way back from the marketplace. “How's Satoshi?”
 
Daisuke sighed. “He's worse now,” he sadly said. “His cough isn't getting any better and he doesn't eat or drink any more. He just sleeps.” Gen nodded sadly.
 
“If he ever needs anything, just get him up to my place, all right?” The burly carpenter said. Daisuke smiled slightly.
 
“Thanks, but it probably won't come to that. I'm going to get him some medicine today.” The carpenter chuckled but at the same time there was a hint of melancholy in his laugh, as he reflected upon those forced to steal for their living.
 
“You get a good catch then?” Daisuke blushed. Gen then stood up. “I'd better be going. But remember; if you or Satoshi need anything, just drop by. I'll always be around, and if I'm not, Faith is.” Faith was his wife, a dark, slender little woman who came from the Belt, the strip of desert that separated Alyanda from the rest of the Kingdom. The redhead flushed and looked down at the merchant, who was still standing there. He froze as the man cast his eyes upwards and locked them with his own, crimson ones. Uh-oh. Daisuke hastily turned to run, but found himself blocked by the man, who had appeared out of nowhere.
 
“Ah!” Daisuke tried to dart around the taller man, but he was too slow and without any effort at all, he was caught. He shut his eyes tightly, expecting a blow or a snarl from his captor, but it never came. The redhead slowly opened first one eyes, then the next. The purple-haired man had a pensive look on his face. Then he spoke.
 
“Who are you?” he asked curiously.
 
Oh crap, he's going to hand me over to the Guards! Daisuke's eyes darted around desperately, trying to find some way to escape. “Eh…” he laughed nervously. “You…you can have your purse back…just don't hand me over to the Guards! Please!” He begged desperately. They would kill him for stealing! Images of dangling from the gallows flashed through his head and Daisuke felt tears spring to his eyes. “Please!” I can't leave Satoshi!
 
“Hey now, calm down.” Dark rifled through the pockets in his cloak, searching for a handkerchief. “Here,” he gently wiped the other's face. “I'm not going to send you anywhere, maybe except home.” Daisuke shook his head, trying to push the handkerchief away even though he knew tears were running down his face.
 
“W-why are you being so nice to me?” Daisuke looked suspiciously at Dark, although the effect was somewhat diminished by his tear-streaked face. “Wh-wha-what do you want?”
 
Dark blinked. “Nothing.” He shrugged gracefully. “Just wanted my money back. It takes forever to get currency changed, you know.” Daisuke gave him a scornful look.
 
“I've never traveled,” the redhead pointed out. “Or haven't you noticed? I steal. I take things that don't belong to me to scrape a living. Do I look like I can afford to travel?” Then he stopped, noticing the look on Dark's face. It was a look of…hurt? Disappointment? Daisuke wasn't sure.
 
“Who are you?” The older one repeated. Daisuke glared at him stubbornly, although in truth he was scared.
 
“…Daisuke.” What? I answered? Daisuke didn't know why he'd given his real name to someone he'd stolen from. He'd lived on the streets for three years now, and he was still slipping up like this.
 
“Well, Daisuke, I'm Dark Mousy.” Dark grinned as he saw the crimson eyes widen.
 
“You mean…you mean you're that craftsman?”
 
Dark nodded proudly. “Yeah. The one and only.” Daisuke could only gawk in fear and awe as he thought, I've stolen from a friend of the royal family. “Don't worry about it,” Dark smiled warmly at Daisuke. “I'm an easy-going person. I'm not going to press charges.”
 
The redhead could only stare in awe, unable to respond. He's just going to let that much money go? “'Sides, I figure you need it more.” Daisuke stared. He really is going to let me…then he shook his head violently. No way! There has to be a hidden catch somewhere! Nothing in life ever comes free!
 
“What do you want?” he demanded. “No one ever gives things away for free!” Mistaking the surprised look in Dark's eyes, he thought with a growing sense of dread, Oh no.
 
“You…do you…” He couldn't say it. An eyebrow rose, curious. Dark wondered what Daisuke would say-he didn't know for sure.
 
“Do you want…bed favours?” Daisuke inwardly cringed at the thought. He hadn't thought he that would ever have to whore himself out to anyone. Amethyst eyes widened and Dark practically pushed him away.
 
“WHAT?! When did I ever say or imply that?” Daisuke shrugged.
 
“It's what the rich people ask for,” he placidly replied. “Everyone knows official courtesans are no good.” Dark squawked, face now slightly redder.
 
“Well, I'm not going to—“
 
“People don't just give away money,” Daisuke groaned impatiently. This guy was really out of touch with the real world. “There's no such thing as a free meal! Don't you get it?” Hey, he was pragmatic.
 
“I don't need sexual favours!” Dark finally managed to grit out, ignoring the amused look Riku was giving him. “But if you want, I'll just take my birili (currency) back!” He made a grab for the bag, expecting Daisuke to hold it out of his reach, but to his surprise the redhead actually handed it to him. Dark stared at the little black pouch, blinking in surprise and bewilderment. “Huh?”
 
Daisuke turned his back on Dark, eyes sadder. I guess I won't be able to get Satoshi his medicine after all, he sadly told himself. He didn't hear Dark until the other placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Hey listen, I have a feeling you need that money, right?”
 
The redhead pushed the hand away, ignoring how nice it felt to have someone touch him, even if it was just a little touch. “What business is it of yours?”
 
A dark chuckle. “You wouldn't be stealing otherwise, na?”
 
Daisuke didn't say anything, chose to huff instead. His red locks swayed slightly in the wind and he looked at Dark, unsure of what to say. He was still wary of the other man, even though the `man' turned out to be someone probably only about two years older than he was. Finally, Daisuke gave up. “Look, here's your money back, now goodbye, sayonara, asha'doriya, see ya. Okay?” He shoved the purse at Dark and ran away, far away.
 
Dark watched the thief go, wondering. Then he reached behind his back and pulled out the large, folded tessen (1) that he carried around for protection. With a brisk wave, the weapon snapped open and Dark waved it, calling up an Air Platform(2) to take both him and Riku back to the inn they were staying at. Turning on his heel, Dark closed his fan and returned it to the large `holder' on his back before mounting the giant platform of spinning air. “Come on Riku, let's go.”
 
“Master Dark…!”
 
He shrugged carelessly. “Doesn't matter. We can get some more money, even though it will kill me if I have to wait another Age just to get more birili.”
 
Daisuke:
 
“Sato?” The figure on the bed shuddered and twisted, muttering all the while. Daisuke walked into the sickroom and placed a new, cool towel on the other boy's head, taking the old one away to wash it. “Are you better now?”
 
“Ngh…”
 
Daisuke could only sigh and watch sadly. That gang leader had really done a number on his friend this time; he'd pulled out a knife and before Satoshi could react, he'd found himself with two sliced hamstrings and a nasty chest wound. In his already weakened condition, Satoshi would only get worse until he got medicine. But no, the redhead sarcastically thought, You just had to throw the money back at Dark Mousy because you wanted to save face! Daisuke sighed again as he looked at Satoshi. He then noticed the older boy's lips moving and leaned closer in order to hear him better.
 
“Dai…suke…”
 
“Yes?” Daisuke sincerely hoped Satoshi wasn't going to say something cheerful like, `I'm going to croak now, see you later,'.
 
“Don't…worry…about…me…” here he burst into a volley of coughs, which left him red-faced and gasping for air. “I'm sorry…for ta…king…” Satoshi fell silent, lacking the strength to say any more. Daisuke's eyes widened in horror and began to rapidly fill up with tears as he hastily grabbed his friend's hand and called his name out repeatedly.
 
“Satoshi!” Daisuke desperately clutched his friend's hot, dry hand, uncaring of whether he was putting himself at risk. “Satoshi!” Then crimson orbs hardened in determination and he wrapped the blue-haired boy up in the blankets before hoisting him on onto his shoulders. I'll carry you there, even if it takes me all night! He vowed. Moving carefully, so as not to disturb his friend any more than was strictly necessary, Daisuke began the trip to the healer's.
 
Dark:
 
THUNK. “Ouch!”
 
“You idiot!” Dark winced as he looked at the bloody mess he'd made of his finger.
 
“It's not my fault!” He pouted at Krad, who was his partner in the business.
 
“What do you mean, `It's not my fault'? You were the one holding the blade! How is it my fault?”
 
Dark rolled his eyes at the other man good-naturedly before hissing. “Gark!”
 
Krad sighed. “Go get it fixed,” he told the other man. “Before you muck anything else up.”
 
“Hey, I'll have you know that without me, your designs would still be pinned to the wall!” Dark exclaimed. “It'll be fine.” Krad grimaced.
 
“If you want to lose a finger, yes, it'll be perfect.” Dark shot him a `look', which the blond calmly ignored.
 
“Hmph. Well, it doesn't need much…YAH!” Dark had whacked the injured finger on the table as he slammed his hand down to prove his point. Krad sighed before calmly ringing the bell on his work table. A plump, motherly looking woman appeared at the door and before Dark could protest, Krad had told the lady to wrap Dark up and take him to the healer's. The purple-haired craftsman was dragged out, kicking and screaming like a child of five who didn't want to go to the doctor's. Krad sighed and rubbed his temples before looking down at the sheet of paper in front of him. The vestiges of an idea had just been beginning to take a more tangible form in the recesses of his mind before that idiot screeched like a stabbed banshee (3).
 
Daisuke:
 
He raised a hand, knocking on the door. He knew that someone would answer it; the only good thing about the healers in this country were that they were required by law to have someone up at all hours. After all, people didn't choose when to die. The door swung open to reveal an old man, his eyes narrowed and bleary. It was obvious he'd been woken up.
 
“What is it?” he snapped. Daisuke resisted the urge to shout at him.
 
“Please, sir, it's my friend. He got into a fight and he's very sick, and…”
 
“Come in,” the old healer barked out. “Don't just stand there! Move!” He moved out of the way to allow Daisuke to bring Satoshi in. “Hurry up! The rooms are over there!” The healer gestured towards a set of rooms which were dimly lit by a candle. When it was clear that the redhead couldn't move quickly enough due to his heavy burden, the healer grabbed Satoshi and with surprising strength carried him the rest of the way.
 
Satoshi was lying on a clean bed with fresh sheets, Daisuke looking on worriedly. “Will my friend be okay?” he asked the healer, who was moving around with astounding energy for someone of such advanced years.
 
“Yes, yes, he'll be fine. Stop worrying!” The old man glared fiercely, his bushy white eyebrows drawn downwards in a frown whilst his dark eyes glittered. Then there was another knock at the door.
 
The old man stood up, about to go over to open it when Daisuke jumped up. “I'll get it, sir!”
 
“I'm not some lily-handed little lord,” the healer barked after him. “I don't need a title. My name's Kaname, so if you're going to call me anything, call me by that.”
 
“S-sorry Kaname-san,” Daisuke stammered out before opening the door. To his immense surprise, Dark was standing there with a scowl on his face. The redhead immediately flushed and hastily moved behind the door, hoping that the wealthy man wouldn't see him.
 
The healer looked up. “What's wrong with you then?” he gruffly asked. When the man took a step backwards, the healer glared more fiercely at him. “Can't be a battle wound if you're that tender,” he grunted out, looking Dark up and down. The man stiffened and mock-glared before laughing quietly.
 
“No, nothing of the sort.” He held out his hand and Daisuke almost gasped. The finger was a bloody mess, and had it not been for the fact that it was still attached to his hand, it would have been impossible to guess what the mutilated flesh had once been. The healer rolled his eyes.
 
“You're an idiot,” he bluntly stated. “You really are. Master craftsman my foot…” Still muttering to himself, the man stomped off, looking for bandages and the herbs he normally used for minor injuries.
 
Dark turned to Daisuke, smiling lightly. “Why are you here? You're okay, aren't you?”
 
There was an awkward pause as Daisuke glared defiantly at the master craftsman. “Yes.”
 
Dark took a seat on one of the many chairs scattered about the place. Propping his head up with his uninjured hand, he looked at Daisuke, smiling that little smile that drove everyone around him in either a state of shock or a state of fear. That smile usually heralded the end of the world for someone. “Who is it, then?”
 
Daisuke flushed in anger. “None of your business!” Master craftsman and rich man be d-----; it was really none of his business!
 
Dark smirked and Daisuke found himself thinking, He actually looks good like that…before ruthlessly quashing the thought. Just then, Satoshi stirred and the redhead rushed over, worry evident in his eyes.
 
“What's…?” His voice was slurred and quiet and it was all Daisuke could do not to sniff.
 
“…it's nothing, Satoshi. Just sleep. You're at the healer's.” Satoshi muttered in weak protest, but Daisuke shook his head sadly. “It'll be fine, Satoshi. You need this.” The blue-haired one shuddered but could not do anything other than that.
 
Dark gently placed a hand on Daisuke's shoulder, their positions eerily reminiscent of their meeting in the afternoon. They stood there, the redhead not saying anything and the dark one having nothing to say. Then the healer returned. “Oi! You with the mashed finger!” He stormed over to Dark and grabbed his hand, applying a little bottle of some sort of medicine to the flesh. The craftsman hissed as the liquid touched him and sizzled a little. Kaname roughly bandaged his hand, ignoring the tiny yelps from his patient. Daisuke watched in amusement, rolling his eyes in exasperation every time the older one whimpered or winced in pain.
 
Meanwhile, Dark was wondering about this old man. Is everything he does this…rough? His hand fell limply onto his lap and he realized that the healer was done. “Don't do any more crafting until five weeks from now,” the elderly healer warned him shortly before going to check on the blue-haired boy. Dark looked sympathetically at Daisuke, who was pushed away by the gruff old man. A wave of sympathy engulfed Dark and without thinking, he moved forward and gently wrapped his arms around the younger one. To his surprise, there was no sound of protest from him, merely a resigned sigh.
 
Leaning over, Dark gently whispered, “He'll be fine.”
 
“It's not that…” Daisuke murmured, half-aware that he was talking to the next closest thing to royalty. “It's the bills,” he half-sobbed. “We don't have any more money…and last time, it cost so much!” He buried his face in Dark's chest, the exhaustion and the disappointment seeping through him.
 
Dark didn't say anything; he merely hugged the younger one more tightly. “Don't worry about it, Daisuke,” he softly said. “It'll be fine.” The old man was still tending to Satoshi, although from the look on his face, Dark guessed that he wasn't very pleased. He looked down at the thief in his arms. Then without warning, Daisuke looked up at him, ruby eyes glowing in the moonlight. He leaned upwards and dark amethyst widened in shock as the redhead firmly kissed him. “Hmpf!” He pushed gently at the thief before giving in. Then Daisuke pulled away, eyes glistening faintly with tears.
 
“Sir…”
 
“Dark,” the other faintly interrupted.
 
“S-Dark…700 birili.”
 
“Huh?” Dark stared, completely clueless. Why was Daisuke talking about money now? The young man looked at him, crimson eyes fierce and at the same time desperate.
 
“700 birili,” the younger one insisted. “At least. For-for a night.” There was a pause and then Dark yelped, pushing him away.
 
“No!”
 
“Please,” Daisuke hoarsely whispered. “I need the money. Please!” He clutched more tightly onto Dark's shirt, afraid of the other's rejection. “I have to pay for Satoshi!”
 
“No!” Dark pulled away from Daisuke, eyes fierce. “I don't need…company tonight,” he said more harshly than he intended. The redhead leaned closer, his breath coming out in soft pants, eyes glinting with a fey light in the dimly lit room.
 
“Please sir…” he ran a suggestive hand down Dark's side, smiling slightly at the shiver that ran through the purple-eyed man. Daisuke was no stranger to these acts-he had been forced to perform them for those who came down here and demanded `entertainment'. “I can take you to heaven and back…”
 
“No.” Dark's voice was firm but gentle. “I won't.” Crimson eyes darkened in despair
 
“There's no need to resort to that,” a gruff voice interrupted. Flushing darkly, both young men turned to face the healer. “If you're looking to pay this place, don't.” Daisuke stared in shock, his mouth opening and shutting in his immense surprise. The man continued, his back turned to them as he now tended to the extremely sick teenager lying on the bed. “It's a disgrace. People come here to be healed, not be healed and then kill themselves trying to pay the bills. Except for folk like him, who can afford it.” Here Kaname jerked his head at Dark.
 
“You mean…you mean you won't charge us?” Daisuke asked hopefully. He didn't trust Dark, but he wanted to believe this healer. He didn't want to wake from this dream and find the moneylenders looming over him, demanding their birili with interest.
 
Kaname snorted derisively. “As if you had anything to give, boy.” His voice was harsh, but both Dark and Daisuke felt that he was sincere. “Some healers charge because they know their customers can afford it. Not I. So none of that hanky-panky here.”
 
Daisuke blushed again, but he had to ask, just to confirm that all this wasn't just some dream. “We won't have to pay anything?” he asked. The white robed man sighed in exasperation.
 
“No, you won't. There's no hidden trap here,” he added shortly after taking a look at Daisuke's incredulous expression. “But for you, sir, I'll have to insist upon payment.”
 
“Of course,” Dark smoothly said. “I understand perfectly. I'm not like some others.” Kaname nodded.
 
“Very well. That will be 100 birili,” he shortly said, eyes fixed on Dark. The craftsman raised an eyebrow. “Only?”
 
“Your wound was not serious and I do not believe in robbing you blind just because you are rich.”
 
“But your materials…” Dark weakly protested. The old man cut him off with a raised hand.
 
“Don't quibble! Do you want me to raise the price further?” Dark shut up and quickly handed over the money, thanking the healer for his services as he did so. He exited the place reluctantly, casting one last glance at Daisuke before continuing on his way.
 
Daisuke sank into the chair, alone once more. He knew there was nothing he could do to help Satoshi now; Kaname had already done his best. “You know, boy, that man feels more than just pity for you.” The petite redhead looked up in surprise at the old healer. Gnarled hands gently smoothed the sheets before the healer joined him on the chairs.
 
“Yeah, repulsion, I'll bet.” The healer shook his head, spiky white hair quivering slightly.
 
“No; not repulsion. Can you not see, boy?” That voice was gruff, but calming at the same time.
 
“No,” Daisuke defiantly replied. “I'm just a thief who tried to pickpocket him and made a mess out of it, too,” he dully replied.
 
“Go after him,” the healer rose to his feet and went into the back of the shop, returning moments later with a slightly oversized cloak. “Go. I will take care of your friend.” Daisuke was about to protest when he saw the white brows draw downwards in a fierce glare. “Go!” Without another word, Daisuke ran after Dark.
 
Dark:
 
He walked home by himself, having told the servants not to wait for him earlier. However, he was not afraid of the dangerous inhabitants of Aldane Kaz'raya; his tessen afforded him as much protection as a body of armed guards would. The sound of feet pattering along the road behind him caused him to turn and amethyst orbs widened in surprise as the fiery thief caught up with him. “What is it?” he gently asked. The boy paused, catching his breath.
 
“I-I want to ask something,” he stammered out. Dark raised an eyebrow, grateful for the shadows that surrounded him and hid his expression from the other.
 
“I don't want sexual favours from you, if that's what you're asking.”
 
He shook his head. “Why are you so kind?”
 
“A conversation hardly fit for such a dangerous place. Come;” he held out a hand to the thief. “I will take you to a place where we can talk in comfort.” Daisuke eyed the hand suspiciously, not sure if he should go or not. Dark rolled his eyes.
 
“I am a craftsman,” he sarcastically said. “Not someone who preys on others.” Daisuke looked at him sharply, ruby eyes still wary. Then he made the decision-he followed the man.
 
Next morning:
 
He stirred sleepily, enjoying the comfort and warmth that surrounded him. He slowly opened his eyes and stared in amazement. He was lying in Master Craftsman Dark Mousy's arms, in his bed, face to face with him. He took the time to study his features carefully; he couldn't be much older than he himself was. Daisuke carefully reached out and traced the sharp, handsome features, reflecting upon the strange events that had brought him here. On an impulse, he leaned forward and kissed Dark on the lips. Not because he was being paid to, not because he was being forced to; because he wanted to.
 
“Morning, Daisuke,” Mischievous, lively violet jewels met ruby ones and Daisuke found himself pressing closer as Dark kissed back. “What a lovely wake-up call. Much better than any of the maids here could ever provide.”
 
“You didn't answer my question,” Daisuke accused the other.
 
Dark raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Which one? You had so many of them.”
 
“Why are you being so kind to me?”
 
“Honestly?” Dark thought for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Because you intrigue me. Because…I believe I fell in love with you at first sight.” Daisuke shook his head disbelievingly.
 
“There's no such thing as that,” he firmly stated. “There's lust and brotherly love, but there's no such thing as love at first sight. That's for girls.”
 
Dark gave him an amused, enigmatic smile. “And you're decisive and intelligent. You give your opinion very decidedly for one so young.”
 
“As do you,” Daisuke retorted. “And the rest of it is just street stuff.”
 
Dark playfully tapped his nose. “As do I,” he cheerfully agreed. “But be it as it may…” he was interrupted by a banging on his door.
 
“DARK!” Krad crashed in, ignoring Daisuke. “YOU MORON!” he roared at the craftsman. “THIS IS NO TIME TO BE SLEEPING IN! WE'RE EXPECTED AT THE PALACE, OR HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN?”
 
“Ah…yes…” Dark drawled. “I do seem to be a little disoriented this morning. Do forgive me, Krad.” He sprang out of bed and calmly dunked his face in the washbasin provided for that purpose. “Now, if you will kindly leave me so that I can get dressed…?” The blond shot him a haughty look, but left the room nevertheless. Then the darker one winked roguishly at Daisuke before walking out onto the landing.
 
“Krad!” He called down. An irate `What?' could be heard even from inside the room. “Do tell the king and queen I am most apologetic, but I fell ill and am resting, will you please?”
 
There was a pause before Krad grudgingly replied, “Very well. But it won't be easy,” he warned the other.
 
“Thank you, Kraddie-kins,” Dark sweetly replied. Then he turned to Daisuke, a devilish glint in his eye. “Now, as to the matter of love at first sight…” The thief only had time to utter a squeak before Dark pounced on him, amethyst eyes glowing.
 
Several days later:
 
Satoshi handed Kaname the herbs that he'd requested, his blue eyes calm and clear once more. The old man had nursed him back to health and he was now much better. He wondered where Daisuke had gone; although the redhead had often disappeared for days on end, he had a feeling that this stunt was something more. He often wondered whether Kaname knew anything about it, but neither spoke of the redheaded, fiery thief. Suddenly, the door burst open and the object of his thoughts flew in as though he had never been gone. “Kana-oh! Satoshi!” The red blur darted forward and Satoshi found himself being warmly embraced. “Satoshi! You're better now!”
 
“Yes; that indeed I am.” The blue-haired boy nodded before looking his friend over. “Where have you been?” Daisuke turned around, gesturing at someone who was standing at the doorway.
 
The figure stepped forward and Satoshi could only stare in awe when his mind supplied him with the identity of the man. “Master Craftsman Dark Mousy?” he gasped out. The figure smirked at him, violet eyes glittering with amusement.
 
“Don't use the titles,” he drawled. “I don't like them. Too much of a mouthful for anyone, anyway.” Satoshi could only stare in awe, eyes taking in the simple but well-made clothing and the giant tessen strapped to the other man's back.
 
“What…” he swung his gaze to Daisuke, but before he could say anything the old healer shuffled out.
 
“Well,” he croaked, “I see you're back, then” Daisuke nodded, ruby eyes sparkling. “And you found him,” Kaname added as an afterthought. Dark raised an eyebrow at the old healer, wondering what he was talking about. “I told him to go find you that evening,” the elderly man explained. Dark raised an eyebrow and was scoffed at. “Come now, man, surely you can understand?” Then to everyone's deep surprise, Dark bowed deeply.
 
“I thank you deeply, Kaname-san,” he spoke formally. The healer merely shook a finger at him.
 
“Now, take care of him, Dark-san,” the old healer cackled. “Before you lose him.” As though to prove him wrong, Dark immediately made a grab for Daisuke and caught him in his arms, kissing him playfully. Satoshi silently looked elsewhere, not knowing what to do any more. There was a profound sense of loss in him now that the redhead would be leaving. A gnarled hand rested on his shoulder.
 
“You can stay here if you wish, boy,” Kaname spoke gruffly, but it was clear that he cared for the other as a son. “You've been a great help, and I need an apprentice.” At the surprised look on the other's face, he pointed out, “I'm not getting any younger and this body isn't what it used to be.” Satoshi only needed to think for a second before nodding. He wouldn't mind spending his days helping the one who had healed him.
 
“Yes…that wouldn't be bad at all.” The gruff old man nodded at him before turning to the burned housewife, his brows once more drawn downwards. Dark then approached the healer.
 
“Kaname-san, thank you very much.” The words were simple, but no one could miss the sincerity in them. The wizened old healer turned to face the craftsman before waving a hand dismissively.
 
“You were meant for each other; anyone could see that,” he said grumpily. “Now stop bothering me!” Everyone laughed, even the housewife.
 
This story ends as all good stories should-with the words, `And they all lived happily ever after'. However, amongst the joy, there must be some sadness, for life goes on. Hideki Kaname, the old healer, passed away just three months after Dark and Daisuke left. His passing was felt throughout the land, but although everyone chalked it down to old age, Satoshi Hiwatari, his pupil, knew better. For Kaname was not human. He was a Half-Spirit, someone who had been reincarnated because he had been too pure for Hell, but too tainted for Heaven. He had been sent down a second time, to see what he would make of his life if he were given a second chance. Hideki Kaname's soul had been accepted into Heaven, and in a flash of light the old, gnarled healer was gone. So Satoshi mourned, for he knew there would never be another so wise or selfless as the white-haired, prickly old man.
 
Tessen-a giant metal fan which can be used to slice people. The one that Dark carries is like a metal version of Temari's (from Naruto).
Familiar spell much? (It's Satoshi's from my other fanfic, `Trey'.)
Banshee: A creature from Irish legend. She is seen before death occurs, and her scream is shrill and soul-piercing, and also heard before death.
 
That's it, guys! This is the longest one-shot for my Dark/Dai drabbles, and probably the most detailed one too. I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope that you will review. So do me a favour and click that delightful little purple button please! Thanks for reading, and review! See you soon!