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Through Your Eyes	By : WCE Category: +. to F > DNAngel Views: 1220 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The characters and characteristics of DNAngel are not mine. This is a fan-based, non-profit story.

Chapter List
- 1-Through Your Eyes
- 1
~Through Your Eyes~
Author:
Danaeyl Panthernopaeus.
Theme:
Alternate Universe.
Storyline:
Say it isn’t so.
Warnings:
Mature themes, murder, character death, OOCN (out of character notions).
Disclaimer:
The characters and characteristics of DNAngel do not belong to me. This is a fan-based, non-profit story.
~ * ~
I open my eyes and sigh contently. It had been a good night’s rest. It’s just a pity that it has to be over so soon. I remove the covers and sit on the edge of the bed, stretching my arms and back. I stand and make my bed.
Wait, I made the bed? That isn’t like me. Maybe I’m in a really good mood today. Making the bed is what I leave up to everyone else. After all, I do my part in keeping the house going – I made the mess for the others to clean up. I keep their skills sharp.
With a grin, I head out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. I look in the mirror and scream, only my mouth doesn’t open and no sound comes out. Instead, I just stare blankly and pick up my toothbrush. Not mine, his. I pick up his toothbrush.
I watch as he brushes his teeth, rinse, spit and wash his face. He picks up the hairbrush and begins to comb his mass of hair. He does it with such ease and grace, something that could only happen over vast periods of time, with a lot of practice.
I see myself enter the bathroom and throw him a sneer. I don’t ever remember doing that. I don’t even know how I’m inside his head. He hasn’t been home for more than a week and already crazy shit is happening?
He lowers his eyes and places the hairbrush down before leaving the bathroom. Sadness washes over my mind and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m an asshole. We go back to the shared bedroom and he dresses quickly. Unlike me, he doesn’t check out his body in the mirror to make sure he’s still a stud.
He makes my bed and we leave the bedroom again, heading to the kitchen where he begins preparations for breakfast. I know that he’s starving, because I am. Also, you can hear the rumble of his stomach, which is kind of unsettling.
“Krad! Where are my clean clothes?”
To hear my own voice bellowing at him, feeling the way he flinches, it makes me wonder. Do I frighten him? Do we all scare him to the point where he does what we tell him without him ever questioning us? I like to think he does it because he likes to be helpful.
Still, watching as he stops breakfast and goes outside to bring in the washing, I think we’re at fault. I shake my imaginary head and scold myself. All Krad has to do is say ‘no’ and we’re sure to leave him alone. At least, I think so.
We glance over his shoulder and I see myself standing in the back door, glaring at him. I don’t remember doing that, either. He sighs and continues to un-peg the clothing, draping it over his shoulders. We don’t have a basket. I think I broke it, trying to break some record.
With all the clothing off the line, we head back inside. My body snatches the clothing from Krad’s hands.
I scoff. What the hell is going on around here? I ask myself as Krad and I go back to the kitchen. How am I inside Krad’s head? Why am I inside Krad’s head? I don’t want to be here. Hell, sometimes I think Krad would rather be somewhere else.
Well, seeing as I’m in here, I may as well see how this day ends. After all, I can’t be expected to remember every day, can I? It’s not like Krad does. But, then again, with Krad, it wouldn’t surprise me if he does remember each day.
Just before breakfast was ready to be served, the doorbell rings. Krad turns everything off and answers the door. Daisuke and Satoshi invite themselves in and Krad silently sighs. It is obvious he isn’t expecting them, with the amount of food he made.
Krad returns to the kitchen and serves breakfast. He isn’t sure if Daisuke and Satoshi have eaten and doesn’t want to ask. Instead, he serves up three meals and places them on the table and returns to the kitchen, again. He begins cleaning up the small mess he made.
As he does that, I try to think about why this day seems so familiar. It’s not unusual for Daisuke and Satoshi to join us for breakfast, lunch or dinner. Still, there is something bizarre about this day and yet it’s so completely normal. Maybe I’m just over-thinking it.
By the time Krad has finished the dishes, the others have eaten are talking about going out. I feel a spike of hope only to smother it. I don’t think I’ve ever asked Krad to go anywhere with us. I wonder why that is…
After a few minutes, the house is empty beside Krad, who collects the plates and washes them. He sweeps and mops the floors. He tidies the bedroom and makes my bed. For the hell of it, he washes the walls and dusts the photographs. He vacuums the sofa and organizes the movies into alphabetical order, which I always rearrange for the fun of it.
I never realized just how much Krad does around the house. It’s kind of like having a servant to do everything. I guess I’m just so used to having things done for me that I never stop to think about what it must be like for the ones who do everything for me.
By the time he’s finished with the house, he realizes that it’s time to start dinner. We go to the kitchen and we look through the cupboards and icebox. He decides to make a simple tuna casserole. In ten minutes, it’s in the oven, baking.
I can’t remember the last time we had tuna casserole. No-one really knows how to make it as good as Krad does. It’s always a shocker to know that Krad is such a marvelous cook. He can make anything from sweet pastries to perfect roast.
Tuna casserole? Isn’t this the night Krad is arrested? I’m fairly certain that is the last time we had tuna casserole. I frown as it dawns on me. That’s why this day is so familiar. It’s what Krad did before he went out and attacked Satoshi.
Krad realizes that he has to pick some soda up for dinner and turns the oven off before grabbing his coat and pulling his shoes on. He locks the door and heads up the street to a little deli. As we pass the park, he looks over there and stops.
Is that Satoshi being mugged?
I don’t have much time to think about it as Krad runs us over there. For someone who is half-starved, Krad defends Satoshi really well.
I grimace as I see Krad beat the attacker into a bloody mess. If I had a stomach, I’m sure I would have been willing to vomit. All that I can feel is Krad’s desperation to kill the bastard that would dare attack someone he cares about.
Krad stands and we stare at Satoshi. Sadness washes over us as we pick up the boy. We head back to the house, a one minute run, to call an ambulance. I try to remember what happens when Krad gets through the door.
“What the hell have you done?!”
Oh, that’s right. I accuse him.
Krad’s body trembles from the adrenaline and the fear of what I might do to him. I call for an ambulance and for the police. I try shouting at myself but again, I have no physical mass and can’t seem to scream any sense into myself. That felt weird.
I hang the phone up and glare at Krad. “You’ve hurt him for the last time, you psycho.”
Krad lowers his eyes, not evening bothering about trying to defend himself. Hopelessness overwhelms me and I really feel the need to punch myself in the face. I didn’t think anything could ever make me hate me. I love me.
Minutes later, the paramedics and law enforcement arrive. Krad doesn’t try protesting as the cuffs are tightened around his wrists. He doesn’t look at anyone as he’s taken out of the house and put into the backseat of the squad car. I didn’t know how lost someone could feel.
* * *
We sit in the court, listening to everyone testifying against him. He has no defense. He lost his defense years ago. He accepts everything that is thrown at him. I watch as my body tells the story to the court and growl silently.
“Why?” I shout at Krad’s mind, knowing full well that he can’t hear me. “Why won’t you defend yourself? You know you haven’t done anything wrong! Try giving people the benefit of the doubt!”
My imaginary eyes widen. We never gave Krad the benefit of the doubt. We automatically assume he is responsible for everything that goes wrong around the house. I sigh, shaking my make-believe head. Why am I seeing any of this? I know how it ends.
“Anything from the defense?” the judge asks.
The lawyer looks at us. “No, your honor.”
The judge nods. “In that case, court is adjourned for one hour.”
Krad is taken back to the holding cell and we sit there. He’s blank. There are no feelings in him. It’s like he’s a doll. He’s empty, except for basic instinct, which is to breathe. I don’t know how he can’t be feeling at least worry. He must be a little worried about going to prison, I know I would be.
An hour later, Krad is returned to the court to hear the verdict. He doesn’t even hold his breath. He does nothing, except stands there and accepts whatever is thrown at him.
“Have the jury come to a verdict?”
“Yes, your honor. We find the defendant…Guilty.”
“In that case, I sentence the defendant –”
I block it out. I can’t bear to listen to what I did to him. I think I’ve learnt my lesson and I know I don’t want to know what happens to him in prison. If movies are anything to go off, it’s not going to be good and it might be painful.
* * *
The first week was hell and only five-hundred-and-one to go. I have no idea how Krad did it. I have no idea how it got around about what Krad supposedly did. Much less, why it’s such a bad thing to have done. I’m sure there are people in there for worse.
There only comfort I have is Krad’s cellmate, as sad as that sounds. Krad doesn’t care what happens to him but I don’t want to feel anymore pain and humiliation. It’s not natural to me. I know that I’ve humiliated Krad many times, so I know it’s nothing new to him.
Back to Krad’s cellmate: He’s a large man, by the name of Aka. He was imprisoned for murder and armed robbery. He looks out for Krad when he can and it makes getting around the prison a little easier. On the second day, I felt something I hadn’t felt while I’ve been in Krad’s head – happiness.
Having Aka around seems to make Krad feel better. Maybe it’s because Aka doesn’t judge him the way we do. Or maybe it’s because Aka gives him someone strong to lean on. I admit, I’m not much of a friend to Krad, it might have something to do with the countless times he’s tried to kill me.
“Hey, Hikari! You’ve got a visitor,” a guard calls from the other side of the iron bars.
Krad nods and assumes the position so he can be taken to the visitor’s room. On the walk there, we both try to think of who could be there. Krad stops dead when we see me sitting at one of the tables. Suddenly, Krad goes blank again as he sits down, opposite of me.
For a few moments, which drag on like hours, neither of us says anything. I know Krad isn’t going to speak. Krad rarely speaks. When he does, it’s usually to apologize for something that isn’t his fault, just whatever I blame on him.
“So, how’s prison life treating you?” my body asks.
Krad turns his head slightly to the left.
“Look, I don’t want to be here, either. So just speak to me. It won’t kill ya.”
Krad straightens his head.
“Satoshi is still in a coma.”
Krad flinches.
“Daisuke and family are hoping you’re doing okay. They think it wasn’t your fault.”
Crap! Am I always this much of an asshole?
“Me? I was hoping you’d get longer than ten years. You caught a lucky break.”
“Why are you here?”
“Because I wanted to make sure you knew what you did. He’d just forgiven you for putting him in the hospital before and you go and do this?”
Krad remains silent.
“Well, this has been a complete waste of time. It’s obvious you don’t feel any guilt about what you did.”
Before my body could stand, Krad does and goes to the door. It’s opened and we go back to the cell. I don’t know how Krad can put up with me. Maybe he feels guilt about all the times he did try to kill me. After all, it’s not a very nice thing to do.
The cell door closes loudly behind us. Aka stands and watches us with curiosity. Krad doesn’t say anything to him as he lies down and turns his back to Aka. I know that my words hurt Krad and I still don’t care, for some reason.
* * *
Two-hundred-and-sixty weeks later, we’re released. Krad promises to visit Aka at least once a week and bring him his favorite brand of cigarettes. Aka laughs and gives Krad a crushing hug. We leave the cell, then the prison, getting into the car that is waiting for us.
On the drive home, Emiko talks non-stop, a sound that Krad is relieved to hear. Of all the people he missed the most, it was Emiko. He missed the way she is able to talk about nothing for great lengths of time. And not once did anyone ask what his time behind bars was like.
We arrive at the one-bedroom apartment that Krad shares with me. I stand at the entrance, not looking happy. We were told that Satoshi woke up from his coma and told the police everything that happened. Five years was too long.
“Krad!”
Krad looks over his shoulder and see Satoshi waving to him. Krad drops his bags and runs over to the boy, hugging him tightly. Respite and joy wash over us, tears falling from Krad’s eyes. He’s grateful to know that Satoshi had woken up and couldn’t wait to see him.
Krad relinquishes his hold on the boy and stands straight. He tenses slightly as an almost hateful gaze pierces his being. He looks over his shoulder at my body. He lowers his eyes and sighs. He knows what I know, this is no happy reunion. He knows I still hate him.
Later that night, after we had all eaten, we sit in the small living room of the apartment, playing a game of Monopoly. I know Krad feels warmth and happiness as he plays a game with those he has come to love and who have come to love him but I still can’t shake the feeling that I want to kill him.
A few hours later, Daisuke, Satoshi and everyone else leaves. Krad sees them off and returns to the kitchen to do the dishes. Even after five years, he can’t break his habits. I watch as he falls into his routine, feeling content.
With the dishes done, Krad goes upstairs and gets ready for bed. He gasps as arms wrap around his torso from behind. He breaks free and stares at my body like I’m the insane one. My body stares back with a clueless look. It takes one step forward and Krad makes a dash for the bedroom door.
* * *
I wake with gasp. I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, trying to regain my breath. I have no idea what any of that was about. I don’t even know how it was possible. It felt so real and yet my logic is trying to tell me differently.
I glance at the clock on the bedside chest and see that it’s only gone past three in the morning. My eyes wander over to Krad’s bed. He’s sleeping peacefully, like he usually does. I toss back the covers and get to my feet. I approach his bed and move him, tenderly, onto his back.
As I straddle his waist, his eyes flicker open. He frowns as his eyes try to adjust. I brush his fringe from his eyes as I kiss the tip of his nose. He opens his mouth to say something, but I cover it with my hand. I smile kindly down at him.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
His eyes ask the questions.
“For what you went through in the last five years. For how I was to you.” I remove my hand from his mouth.
I lean over the side of the bed and pick up one of my discarded pillows. I press it over his nose and mouth and hold it in place. He doesn’t struggle as he knows he has no chance of throwing me off. I can still see his eyes as they ask: why?
I watch as the life leaves his eyes and they flutter shut. I remove the pillow and study his face. Again, he looks like he is in a peaceful slumber. I decide now is a good time to answer his final question.
“I saw myself through your eyes,” I begin as I gently press my lips to his forehead, “and I hated it.”
~ * ~
End.
Author’s Note:
I hope you enjoyed it. Please review.
If it was not your cup of tea, please do not flame.
Also, please ignore all spelling mistakes.
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Through Your Eyes