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The Art of Our Blood	By : draechaeli Category: +. to F > DNAngel Views: 3119 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own DNAngel, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Ichi
- 2-Ni
- 3-San
- 4-Shi
- 5-Go
- 6-Roku
- 7-Shichi
- 8-Hachi
- 9-Ku
- 10-Juuitchi
- 11-Juuni
- 9
- 10
- 11
Disclaimer: I do not own DN Angel, welcome to the wonderful world of Fan Fiction!
Author’s Note: I am the worst Sorry! I just found this on my computer I thought I had loaded it up already, sorry, sorry, sorry (I’ve just added this note the rest is as it was). This chapter is going to get really, really sad. Don’t give up on me and this fic. Please read to the end! Thanks, don’t hate me and enjoy!
Warning: This story will be a range of anywhere between two affectionate male friends to yaoi (Explicit sex between two males). So if you don’t like male that cry and hug and enjoy cuddle than I suggest you do not read this fic. In this story the fate of Hikari and Niwa is a grand secret of mine. Although I believe if you are one to enjoy affectionate male friends or full blown out yaoi regardless I believe you will enjoy this story.
Happy Reading!

The Art of Our Blood
Chaputa-juuichi
Satoshi had smiled. He had smiled when his eyes had blurred. He hadn’t thought that that was the end of it when he had gotten on his bike earlier in the day. It was a bright and warm day in the early days in March. Daisuke had left the flat, happy and exuberant with a kiss and a smile and Satoshi smiled until he saw his translucent skin in the mirror and decided one more motorcycle ride to work before he died. He had really thought that he would have made it to work, he had—but his eyes blurred instead and his breath became short.
Satoshi had smiled. The weather was nice and over the smell of the city he swore he could smell the sea. Daisuke had kissed him before he left that morning and if he had to die, this was his second choice: on his bike, in the sun, after Daisuke had kissed him good-bye. So when he had slowed down for the stop light and realised too late that his body had been running on muscle memory. He smiled because he had seen a new year and he could die happily. So he didn’t fight it when his body tipped over and the bike on top of it, he only smiled.
Daisuke had a lecture first thing in the morning followed by a three hour painting course followed by a break for lunch, and then he planned to use the rest of the pay in the painting studio working on whatever he felt like.
It was a good day in Daisuke’s mind. He had woken to a pale back of his boyfriend and then he had gotten up and had prepared breakfast for two. He had brought Satoshi breakfast in bed and worried slightly. After the Christmas party Satoshi seemed to get worse and worse, the feather hadn’t fallen. And the redhead planned to kiss that feather off of Satoshi’s back. Nothing extravagant; he just planned to make sure that Satoshi knew that he was appreciated and loved. He started with breakfast in bed, lengthy kisses good-bye and would continue with a text during his break in his painting class and a Satoshi’s favourite take out meal for dinner.
Daisuke was flaming red as he hit the send button on his phone; he hoped that an invitation to chat at their mutual lunch breaks followed by a ‘chu’ was not too pathetic. He stared at his phone for a minute until he realised that the break was ending and he had to go back to class. Before he could put his phone back in his pocket it vibrated. Daisuke smiled wide and a passing friend put an arm around his shoulder looked at the vibrating phone and Daisuke’s grin and asked, “Girlfriend?”
Daisuke had smiled and then looked down to see that it was indeed Satoshi calling him. Daisuke didn’t say anything to his classmate and just held up his phone. It was odd that the police commander was calling him, he was at work and knew that Daisuke had a class, but he answered the phone anyways, “Moshi, moshi.”
“Hello, is this Niwa, Daisuke?” asked a voice on the other end of the phone that was certainly not Satoshi.
Daisuke froze for a minute making his friend stumble at the sudden lack of movement. The room became quiet, or at least that is the way it sounded to Daisuke. The phone dropped from his hands as his muscles seemed to no longer work. The phone hit the ground if the screen didn’t crack the back of the phone and the battery skittered across the floor at least. If the room hadn’t been silent before then it was certainly silent then.
Someone asked Daisuke what was wrong, and the redhead murmured, “Satoshi is in the hospital dying.”
Takeru stepped out of the groups of students at least knowing who Satoshi was and he collected Daisuke’s bag and mobile phone and then asked the catatonic artist which hospital and proceeded to lead his devastated friend to the hospital.
Takeru never understood what was going on with Satoshi. All he knew was that the man was very sick and Daisuke made him feel better. He didn’t know if Daisuke and Satoshi had ever admitted their feelings for each other, or to their selves. But since that ill-fated study session Takeru knew that Daisuke’s world revolved around Hiwatari, Satoshi.
The two art students made it to the appropriate hospital and Daisuke seemed to wake up and started talking to the nurse that was leading them to Satoshi’s room. Satoshi had his own room partially because he was the police commander and partially from his adoptive father’s family. The hospital had contacted the police station and Satoshi’s adoptive family which appeared to still have power of attorney. They had informed the hospital to do what they could for Satoshi, allow all visitors and if he didn’t wake to unplug all machines helping to prolong his life after 48 hours.
And those words are what made the tears spill from Daisuke’s eyes, for it was almost certain that he only had less than two days with Satoshi. When they got to the room, Daisuke took in an audible breath, surged forward and collapsed across Satoshi’s bed. Takeru excused the nurse put down Daisuke’s backpack and phone in the room and then brought the visitors chair over towards the redhead. With a bit of work, Takeru got Daisuke’s lower half in the chair as his upper body was still helplessly clinging to the blunette.
Daisuke didn’t know when he had been left alone with his boyfriend; it could have been mere minutes or hours because either way it felt like a year with each breath. Once he seemed to cry out all the liquid in his body onto Satoshi’s, Daisuke took to staring.
Satoshi looked dead. Even though there was the steady beep of the heart monitor, every other sense was telling Daisuke that his boyfriend was dead. Red eyes took in the body before him: the ashen skin, shallow eyes and even shallower breaths. There is a bandage on the right side of Satoshi’s head that meant that a chunk of hair was cut out. That made Daisuke inhale that meant that Satoshi had fallen to the right which could have been into apposing traffic. There was a scrap along his right arm and the bike falling on top of the blunette appeared to have broken his right leg. How fragile was Satoshi? Were his bones that brittle?
After the tears and the silence came the pleading. Niwa shifted the chair closer to the hospital bed. He took Satoshi’s hand in a gentle grip and with the other hand brushed the hair from the police commander’s forehead. “Come on Sato-kun open your eyes. Please, open those eyes for me. I am right here, everything is all right now. Just open your beautiful blue eyes.”
Pleading became desperate and begging. “Come on Sato-kun, I need you to open your eyes… I need you please.”
Begging became bribery quickly. “Sato-kun come on open your eyes, if you do I’ll give you a kiss…” Daisuke stood up leaned over and kissed each of Satashi’s closed eyelids and then he looked down at the blunette with a fond smile. “See, that is just a taste, open your eyes and I’ll kiss you anywhere you want.”
The redhead was silent as he looked down at his dying boyfriend, he looked expectantly down at Satoshi but when he didn’t open his eyes Daisuke flopped back into his chair and frowned. “What else do you want? You can have anything… everything… I know, how about we get married to celebrate you finish schooling? I’ll enter your family registry; I’ll become a Hiwatari or a Hikari whatever you want. Then we can adopt some children, or get a surrogate, or you never know maybe there is a Hikari artefact that will allow one of us to become pregnant, whichever one you would prefer it will be to celebrate you waking up and then if the child is born they will be around right in time for my graduation… I promise Satoshi I will do all that and more!”
Daisuke quieted for a moment looking for a reaction in the other youth, looking for anything that may indicate that the blunette was still alive. That is when bribery bled into anger and Daisuke stood back up, he began to pace around the bed and yell. “Fine! Don’t wake up! I’m offering to marry you on the spot, to bear your children if only you open your eyes!” Nothing. “You are so selfish! How do you think this make me feel? I send you a sappy text message and I get a return call from a nurse! I find out your stupid family is only giving you 48 hours to fight this! And in the eyes of the hospital all I am is your roommate! You cannot die on me! Leaving me here like this!”
“Don’t leave me here alone,” anger turned into self-pity and guilt as a new round of tears began to flow and Daisuke once more found himself half spread out across Satoshi’s bed and half in the chair. "This is all my fault. Obviously, I wasn’t enough to save you. I’m never enough you know. I always fall short compared to Dark, to you, to everyone. I will be nothing without you just an artist with no muse…”
Self-pity and guilt turned into a begrudging acceptance. “You’re not just my muse Satoshi. You’re everything. I don’t know what I will do without you. I won’t be able to live in our apartment with the reminder of you. I’ll probably have to move back with my family. I’ll have to face my Mother, Dark and Krad… Will I have to inform Krad of your death? Will I have to tell everyone? I don’t know if I can…”
And then he slipped into the confessions. Daisuke wiped his eyes sat up straighter and took Satoshi’s hand in a firm grip. “I have so much that I wanted to tell you, so many secrets that you don’t know, but I want you to. What I said about you being my muse is true. I know you have seen most of the drawing of you; you’ve posed for some of them! But that isn’t even half of it! I can barely draw a passable female figure now! The edges of my notes are filled with doodles of you.
“You look so frail it scares me. I still remember the young police commander that chased down Dark. That now it scares me to see you so sick. It hurts my heart each day that you look worse. I am always afraid that when I touch you, I am going to hurt you! But in the same instant I am afraid that if I don’t touch you that you will just fade away!
“I really like your smile, the one that looks sincere… the one that is just for me. It took me weeks and weeks trying to perfect your smile in a picture. Until I realised that I was sabotaging my own work… I don’t want anyone else to see your smile but me.
“You make my head hurt sometimes. I try really hard to not look like an idiot in front of you. I keep thinking that one day you’ll decide that I am not worth the trouble. I am not smart, I don’t have money… I don’t have anything but graphite on my fingers and you.
“For what is a Niwa without a Hikari? Right? That is about how it has always been. The great artists that had too much and put too much into what they loved and the only family that could see the love for what it was! It isn’t dangerous that isn’t what Hikari art is… It is passion and love given so completely. And a Niwa can only bask in it, never having that love, but how they want it. And then you came, the last the Hikari’s and you poured all your love and passion into the greatest of all Hikari’s art… me, a Niwa that doesn’t act like a Niwa. I probably would have given up if you hadn’t been there. Niwa’s are not artists. But you nurtured me, perfected me, and all I can give you is my own passion; on paper, or canvas or in life. I love you, you know? I love you with all of my heart, with pencil, with pen, with paint, with my entire being. There will never be anyone else for me.
“I was planning on… wooing you, I guess that is the best way to say that, even though I already have your heart and soul. I was going to show you how much I loved you. Breakfast in bed was just the beginning. I was debating on whether I should propose to you or not. I figured that it was the best way to show my love, but I didn’t want to pressure you. I guess it wasn’t that hard of a decision, I just proposed to you a moment ago,” Daisuke chuckled, “I even offered to start a family with you. Did I ever tell you about when I went to the future and met Daiski? I know I have a son, and I know he looks like me, and he is named after my grandfather, and that he visits my mother—his grandmother. But now I cannot see Daiski unless he is our son. I guess that means that I fear for my future, and therefore the past… if you don’t wake up. If we don’t have children there will be no Daiski for young Daisuke to meet when he comes to the future.”
A whisper floated to Daisuke’s ear, it sounded like. “Don’t worry.”
The redhead sat up straighter and looked around; nothing in the room seemed to have changed. Satoshi still looked dead and the machine still beeped. Daisuke squeezed Satoshi’s hand and stroked his forehead. The pale hand in his squeezed back and Daisuke jumped.
“Sato-kun? Open your eyes for me, please.”
A hiss of a murmur came, “Marry… me…?”
Daisuke’s heart leapt into his throat and the young artist leaned in closer. “Of course! Sato-kun I would love to, just open your eyes, and we’ll go get married!”
The pale figure squeezed his boyfriend’s hand and then added, “Promise me… a son…”
The redhead chuckled, his eyes filling with happy tears. “As many as you want Sato-kun! Just open your eyes.”
Red eyes watched the prone figure carefully, trained on the blunette’s face studying, waiting, and watching. Daisuke could see the eyes move behind the closed eyelids and then the lashes fluttered and then a sliver blue orbs appeared under the eye lashes.
Daisuke jumped up excited and yelled for the nurse. Satoshi’s lips quirked in the barest of smiles and before the room was filled with hospital workers the redhead heard. “You promised… a… wedding… a… son…promised… love you.”

Author’s Note: Sato lives! And their home life is taking great leaps forward!
Japanese you might not know:
Chu: kiss sound
Moshi, moshi: said when answering a phone
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The Art of Our Blood