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fugitivehues · 3 years

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DNseasons - White Day art by @fugitivehues & writing by @keikotwins

The rules of their little one-sided game were implicit yet clear: papa knew, papa decided, papa won. Meanwhile, Satoshi was allowed to distract himself and remain silent; a few more hours together and his satisfied father would leave him in peace. Their little “entertainment” that night dealt with going to a soba restaurant nearby the boy’s flat and bonding over the latter’s birthday. To sum up: a wasted evening he could have spent eating the very same meal in the very same place, but alone.

Anything but the proud man who walked by his side, delighted to have found out Satoshi’s preferred restaurant and bring him there himself, would have been better. Not only did it make him unbearable, but the boy would have to be twice as careful before visiting again. A regular “coincidental” reception committee would definitely spoil the place.

Satoshi only raised his eyes when his father pushed the door open, bringing his own attention back to the latter’s voice – but, as they entered the modest room, care switched to another urgent matter. Niwa Kosuke sat at the bar and, icing on the brick, smiled in his direction to indicate he had probably been waiting. Not that the boy would have disliked exchanging a word or two with him, but he had another, more disagreeable guest to manage.

Inexorably, Niwa rose from his chair to approach and greet him. From the brief glances he threw to his companion, he had obviously not expected him to have company.

“Good evening, Hiwatari-kun. I was hoping we’d meet tonight.”

Polite indifference was the best Satoshi could display between both pairs of eyes, but he couldn’t help the slight frown his eyebrows had tensed into. He had never invited this man here before; was the entire population of Azumano aware he spent many of his evenings there, and how many more would show up before the bill? However, his father had stopped talking. Dissatisfied another knew the exclusive piece of information he had been priding himself with a couple minutes before? Even if the presence of a Niwa in front of Police Commissioner Hiwatari filled Satoshi with everything but ease, he at least enjoyed the private pleasure of seeing him disappointed.

“An acquaintance of yours, Satoshi?” It was unavoidable, wasn’t it?

“Niwa-san, this is my father.”

Mandatory salutations filled the air, both men obviously content to meet either Hiwatari Satoshi’s caretaker or an amiable member of a criminal family. When Niwa Kosuke attempted to step aside for the evening, Hiwatari even invited him to join them. Politeness and curiosity fought for a moment in brown eyes, but, without Satoshi showing any hint, Niwa decided to stay. His choice. It would be a wonderful birthday celebration either way.

“Daisuke had told me today was your birthday, and I thought… Maybe we could eat something for the occasion.”

The waiter bringing them to their table didn’t interrupt Hiwatari from thanking their guest for the care, and Niwa Kosuke received a brilliant performance of the doting father speech, including an original variation dealing with the relief their guest brought him by watching over his loner son. Said son sat across their guest: from there, he could peek at his face at will.

Somehow, Niwa Kosuke had always had a special aura. A desire to not show himself off in humility, perhaps including aversion towards such practices; something Satoshi had appreciated and, in a way, admired. In the circle of adults he mixed with, neither honesty nor modesty were the norm. At this moment, he did not know what to think of the polite interest Niwa expressed in front of Hiwatari’s usual small talk. Was he playing the social game or staying true to his integrity? Had he foreseen his interlocutor’s intentions?

As a tiny, petty, utterly useless attempt at having any control over the situation, Satoshi ordered three bowls of his usual noodles to the returning waiter without asking the two others’ opinion. Despite their initial surprise, both men decided to think Satoshi had given a blunt yet advised recommendation, and another warm conversation about him and his personality resumed around the table. As long as the discussion remained on him and did not slip toward Niwa Daisuke…

The boy let his mind slip away towards greener, quieter pastures, an ear still open just in case. Earlier that day, said Niwa Daisuke and a few other classmates had given their wishes to Satoshi. Avoiding sliding odd letters in his shoe locker or following him all day long in a whispering pack was always appreciated; the sobriety of a clear, candid “happy birthday” had made its little effect. Over the last year, this class – or at least part of it – had kept on surprising him. Satoshi had always taken polite indifference as basic decency; somehow, these schoolmates and Niwa Kosuke had let him peek at something new. Something he could also tolerate. Replaying the events in his mind did give him a chance to sharpen his opinion on them, switching social expectations from indifference to… What was it, exactly?

A ceramic bowl appeared in his field of vision, snapping him out of his thoughts, quickly followed by its two peers. Kitsune soba, simple and efficient with its aburaage and onion toping, a safe bet no matter the restaurant. Whereas Satoshi had already grabbed his chopsticks, Niwa was still waiting for the waiter to finish distributing the glasses of water, respectfully tilting his head in process.

But before any wish could be pronounced, before any bite could be taken, before the server could even return to the counter, Satoshi recognised another familiar face in the room. Then two. And three.

“Commander Hiwatari! Good to see you!”

Chopsticks froze in the air as several of his subordinates waved at him from afar, way too happy-looking to be entirely sober. One of them was ordering food and, as the officer who had first spoken raised his voice again to, this time, wish Satoshi a happy birthday, several echoed from the door of the restaurant. They had apparently come as a group of half-dozen. Without the uniform, nothing could differentiate them from regular office workers spending time together after a long day.

Contrasting with the previous calm rumbling of the evening dinner, merry men approached to congratulate the boy on this special day, and, without any hint of surprise, greet the big boss who sat beside him. Satoshi put the chopsticks back onto his bowl, barely surprised when a table joined theirs, barely responding when voices asked him how it felt to be fifteen, how he celebrated with his friends and, maybe, girlfriend that day; if he came here often and recommended anything…

Mentally checking who was present that night and who seemingly tolerated alcohol less, he realised that his mood improved significantly by the minute. These men or others, what difference did it make? He had been given so many birthday wishes it made the previous years of his life ridiculous in comparison; the man who called himself his father wasn’t even special anymore in that regard. To everyone in this room that night, he was an ordinary child having soba, a boy they could and wanted to give attention to. Nothing else, nothing more than an ordinary child.

#kosuke niwa #satoshi hiwatari #kei hiwatari #dnangel #dnseasons #dnseasons2021 #keikotwins #myart #collab #fanart #fanfiction #long post #satoshi is the best child ;v;#you gave him good attention~#watercolor

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satorisa · 3 years

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Falling: Chapter 1 - In which the Hug is Finally Acknowledged

Rating: T

Summary: "I wanna forget all this burden in my past."

Alternate Reading: AO3

Lift the Veil? I don’t know her.

D.N.Angel ending? I don’t know her.

But that hug? Lives, rent free in my mind, man.

Warning: Spoilers for the DNAngel ending abound.

After Dark disappeared, the hours continued to flow as if the incident had never occurred. Satoshi brought Risa home that evening before he visited the Niwa household to brainstorm a story for Commissioner Hiwatari’s disappearance. Daisuke slept next to him that night and, while comforted by his friend’s rhythmic breathing and familiar warmth, Satoshi kept his tired eyes on the window, watching as the evening skies brightened to a morning blue.

Commissioner Hiwatari was declared missing the next day, and Inspector Saehara decided to take Satoshi in for the time being. He moved into the Saehara household that same evening, everything he owned packed in a duffel bag weighing on his shoulder, and Takeshi showed him around the house.

Satoshi met Mama Saehara through a video call that same evening. She worked as a fashion designer, and her job had flung her off to Paris this time. He quite liked her.

After they hung up, he had a warm dinner with Takeshi and Inspector Saehara. It was leftovers from last night, but he enjoyed the food nonetheless.

That night, Satoshi slept next to Takeshi, who snored in his ear while either kicking him or rolling on him. Satoshi kept his tired eyes on the window, watching as the evening skies brightened to a morning blue.

He went shopping with the Saeharas the next day. They bought a bunk bed, a desk, and whatever else they thought that Satoshi would need. After that, the days fell back into their familiar rhythm as if the incident had never occurred.

Satoshi slept in the top bed for privacy. Takeshi took the bottom bed since he didn’t quite care. Their desks sat side by side in front of the window: Takeshi’s impeccably spotless and Satoshi’s covered in manila folders and schoolwork.

Everyday, Satoshi woke up, went to school, and attended the art club that Daisuke finally convinced him to join. On some evenings, Inspector Saehara would ask him for help on a case, and they always headed home after work with fried chicken for dinner. For the most part though, Satoshi spent his time after school with Daisuke and Takeshi.

Then Riku moved away.

Risa began to hang out with Daisuke and Takeshi just as much as she hung out with Ritsuko and the other girls, but she still maintained the same distance she had with Satoshi prior to the incident. She’d greet him, cordial and courteous, and she’d smile and laugh with the boys, just like him, but that was the extent of their relationship: friends of friends.

And that was how Satoshi’s second year in middle school came to an end.

…

The last of the art club members finally left. They were a group of giggling girls who clearly only joined to get closer to Satoshi but, after realizing that he wouldn’t pay any attention to them yet again, they decided to call it a day.

Satoshi sighed in relief when the door closed behind them and ran his hand through his hair. Daisuke, president of the art club, laughed at the strands that were sticking up.

“How long are you going to let them stay here?” Satoshi asked, watching the group walk and giggle down below.

“They’ll get tired eventually.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Just wait. They’ll eventually realize how boring you are and set their eyes on someone else.”

Satoshi shot Daisuke a look. He laughed before slipping off his stool.

“So what did you want to talk about?”

“My painting.”

Daisuke, eyes shining with curiosity, scurried over to Satoshi’s canvas. His jaw slacked.

Before him was the familiar visage of Dark outlined in pencil. The sharp angle of his eyes, his chiseled features, his charismatic smile, and his dark hair flowing around him: everything was detailed to utmost perfection.

“Oh my god.”

“How is it?”

“It looks just like him.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

Daisuke nodded, awestruck, but that eventually gave way to a darker expression on his face. “…why are you doing this, though?”

Satoshi shrugged. “I don’t know. Still life practice got boring, so I decided to try doing something different.”

“You could have done something else besides starting on a portrait of Dark.”

“I know, but this is what I ended up making.”

“…are you okay?”

“That’s a rhetorical question.”

Daisuke sighed. “It’s just—we’re worried about you, Satoshi. We don’t want you to hurt yourself, you know? If you’re not ready to face it, you don’t have to.”

“What? Would a portrait of my father have been better?”

“No, Satoshi, I—”

“Sorry,” Satoshi said before getting off his stool. He grabbed his bag and made his way to the door. “I didn’t mean to snap at you like that.” At the entrance, he turned around to face Daisuke. “But when the hell am I going to ever be ready?”

…

The sun began to set, casting its golden hue on the busts and wooden stands by the wall. Since Inspector Saehara didn’t need his help that evening, Satoshi stayed after the club meeting to work on his painting. A palette full of varying hues of purple floated gracefully in his left hand while a worn brush sat precariously in his right, waiting to lay down another thoughtful stroke.

The door opened.

“Hello, Hiwatari-kun!”

He tore his eyes away from the canvas to see Risa standing there. She no longer had her customary pink ribbon tying her hair up; her dark locks cascaded down just like Riku’s. If she trimmed some off, she’d be the spitting image of her sister.

Perhaps that was why she changed her hairstyle.

“Are you heading home soon?”

He glanced at his watch: 6:04 PM.

“Maybe.” Satoshi noted the bag slung over her shoulder. “I’m assuming you’re on your way back?”

“Yeah.” She frowned. “Saehara-kun kept us all late today because our monthly issue is coming out. What a workaholic.”

Satoshi smirked. “Like father, like son.”

“His dad’s just like that?”

“Absolutely. His mom’s the same way, too, so it probably runs in the family.”

Risa giggled. The door opened again, and it was the man of the hour himself. He pouted.

“I’m not as bad as my parents.”

“Sure,” Satoshi sarcastically drawled.

Takeshi just shook his head. “Whatever, bro. You headin’ back soon?”

“Maybe. Don’t wait for me if you need to head out.”

“Nah. I kinda want to hit up the arcade for a bit before we go grocery shopping.”

“Can we drop by the bookstore, too? I need to grab a couple of things.”

“Yeah. I think I need some stuff from there, too.” Takeshi then turned to Risa. “You wanna stick around with us, then? No hard feelings if you need to jet, though.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll pass. I don’t want to stay out too late and worry my parents.” She waved with a smile. “I’ll see you two tomorrow then. Bye!”

Risa skipped out of the room while Takeshi walked over to examine Satoshi’s painting. He whistled.

“Yanno, you’re a little too talented for someone who doesn’t like painting.”

“Shut up. You know how I feel about it.”

“And yet you joined the art club.”

“I have to start somewhere with that positive reassociation and all.”

“And how’s that goin’ for ya?”

“Terrible. I’m hating every second of it.”

“Well, uh, nobody asked you to make a painting of that Dark Mousy fellow, yanno?”

“Couldn’t help it. His handsome face kept bothering me.”

…

Mama Saehara popped up on his phone screen with the Parisian skyline behind her.

“Good evening, Satoshi.”

“Good morning, Saehara-san.”

“No need to be so formal with me! Please, call me Mama.”

“I’d rather not.”

She laughed. “Alrighty, hun. How’re you doing?”

“I’m alright.”

“And the therapy? Have you decided to go?”

“No. I don’t think I can.”

“That’s alright. You’re doing alright. No need to push yourself if you’re not ready.” She sighed. “I just need this project to finish and then I’ll take the first flight I can back to Japan. Just wait for me, okay?”

“No need to rush. Take all the time you need.”

“Oh honey, I appreciate the thought, but I don’t know if I trust those buffoons to take care of you. Speaking of them, how are they treating you?”

“They’re very nice. I like living here, Saehara-san. Thank you for taking me in.”

“I’m glad, Satoshi. And you’re very welcome! It’s the least we could do, truly.”

Her phone rang. Mama Saehara answered before launching into a furious tirade of French. After she hung up, she sighed and began to massage her temples.

“Sorry to cut this call short, but there’s an emergency. I’ll call again as soon as I can. Toodles!”

“Bye. Have a nice day.”

Satoshi saw himself reflected on his phone screen, and he took out his earbuds before leaving the room. He went downstairs to see Inspector Saehara at the table, can of beer open in front of him, while Takeshi began plating the food.

“How’s Ma?” Takeshi asked.

“Alright. Busy,” Satoshi answered. He grabbed some plates and bowls from the cabinets.

“Sound about right,” Takeshi said. “And you?”

“Hm?”

“How’re you?”

“Alright. Tired.”

Takeshi smirked. “Who isn’t?”

He patted Satoshi’s back before putting the plates full of table and hounding his dad about drinking: just another meal at the Saehara household.

Satoshi smiled as he began to set the table.

…

After the club meeting, Satoshi stayed behind to work on his painting, unrestrained by a request from Inspector Saehara. He mindlessly toiled away until the door opened.

“Hi, Hiwatari-kun!”

Risa’s voice broke his focus. Golden hour had passed and the blue hour settled in, dying the room a muted blue. Even Risa, despite her chipper demeanor, seamlessly blended in with the mood.

“Hey, Harada. Did the newspaper club meeting just finish?”

“Nope. It ended a while ago, but I stayed back to wrap something up.”

“So Takeshi’s already gone?”

“Yeah. I think he went to the arcade with a couple of our club members for some bonding time.”

“Ah.”

Risa swayed her head. “Are you heading home soon?”

“Yeah. Let me tidy up here, and I’ll leave with you.”

She smiled. “Thanks.”

Satoshi covered his painting with a tarp before leaving the room to clean his brushes and palette. He returned to see Risa on a stool, watching something on her phone. She laughed until she noticed he had returned, and she paused her video before offering a weak wave and smile.

Satoshi grabbed his bag. “You ready to head out?”

“Yup!”

She hopped off the stool. Satoshi closed the door behind them before they walked to the faculty office. He bowed before entering, leaving the keys to the art room with the frazzled student-teacher, and bowed after leaving. Risa trailed behind him uncharacteristically calm and quiet the whole time.

When they got to the shoe lockers, Risa finally broke her silence.

“Hiwatari-kun,” she began as he took off his slippers, “did you know him?”

“Know who?”

“The person I was waiting for that day at the lamppost.”

“It took you this long to ask me about that?”

Risa giggled. “Sorry. I couldn’t find a good time to bring it up.”

“Really? I thought you’d do it by screaming at me about hugging you and overstepping boundaries.”

Risa giggled again. Satoshi raised his eyebrow as he slipped on his shoes. “I was thinking about it, but I thought it’d be too rude to. After all, you appeared when I needed someone the most. Thank you for that.”

“I had a snarky reply to that but, since you’re being genuine, I’ll keep it to myself.”

They reconvened at the entrance. Risa’s smile looked more genuine that the one she had earlier.

Good.

“So, why bring it up now?” Satoshi asked as they began walking out.

“I tried to forget about it. Why should I stay hung up over someone I don’t remember? But, well, long story short, I couldn’t. I want to know who he was.”

They stopped at an intersection. Cars rushed by while commuters joined them, preoccupied with their own lives. Satoshi focused on the red light of the crosswalk, trying not to look at Risa’s expression.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

“Of course I do! Why else would I be asking you about him?”

“And what if I tell you that it might be overwhelming?”

“So? I’d still want to know!”

“Even if it’ll make you cry?”

“Of course! I don’t want to just forget about him!”

Satoshi sighed. The light at the crosswalk turned green, and they began to move. Risa’s head bobbed with each step, and Satoshi focused on the sidewalk to avoid looking at her.

“Harada, I’d rather not see you cry,” he said. “It makes me uncomfortable.”

“Okay then. I’ll try not to cry.”

“You? Who displays your emotions for the whole world to see? Forget it.”

Risa grabbed his arm, and he turned around. She forced him to look at her. He saw the determination in her eyes, burning just as much as it did when she was chasing Dark mere months ago.

“Hiwatari-kun, please.”

How could he say no to her?

“Alright. Fine. Just give me some time, okay?”

He brushed off her arm, frustrated by her stubbornness. But he saw the softness in her expression when he yielded, and he etched it in his memory.

#DNAngel #satorisa #satoshi hiwatari #risa harada #takeshi saehara #daisuke niwa #dn angel #d.n.angel #My writing #my fanfiction #falling #this was a long time coming but i can't believe it took the end of the series for me to finally write it

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fuckyeahkosukeniwa · 3 years

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Kinda suspicious that we've never seen Commissioner Hiwatari and Elm Root together in the same room

#rival #hmmmmmmmmmmmmm #text

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kisenth-a · 6 years

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(DN Angel) Satoshi Hiwatari

STATUS : LOW ACTIVITY [ PERMANENT STARTER CALL ] [ TAG ]

Satoshi Hiwatari is a recurring character in D.N.Angel. He is the police commander in charge or capturing Dark, and one of Daisuke's classmates. He is the last known heir to the Hikari family, and current alter ego to Krad.

Calm and composed, Satoshi rarely shows his emotions causing others to find him distant and cold. Yet this does not stop others - such as Daisuke Niwa - from insisting on becoming his friend.

After his mother's death, Satoshi was adopted by a 26 year old police commissioner by the name of Hiwatari and his name was changed from Hikari to Hiwatari.

An extremely intelligent person, Satoshi graduated from High School at the age of eight, and obtained a college degree at the age of thirteen. Despite his intelligence, Satoshi knows nothing of family love or friendship.

He enrolled in Daisuke's middle school in order to be closer to Dark's alter ego, who he knew to be Daisuke.

Satoshi is the last heir of the Hikari family, which created artworks with powerful magical properties. However, unlike most of his line, he is unable to create art of his own, though he can make an exact copy of any piece he chooses even if he has only seen it once. Although it might just be that he chooses not to create, knowing what his creations might do, instead of being unable to create.

As the heir of the Hikari family, Satoshi houses the soul of Krad, similar to how Daisuke houses the soul of Dark Mousy. Unlike Dark, Krad is homicidal and cares nothing for Satoshi, causing Satoshi to regularly fight to keep him inside. Satoshi suggests that wearing glasses is a way of helping keep Krad in check, as he notes that he does not actually need them.

It is stated by Krad that Satoshi needs to care for someone in order for him to emerge in the first place. Krad also has been known to get after Satoshi about his emotions and such.

#「 SATOSHI HIWATARI 」 STONE COLD COMMANDER

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incorrect-dnangel-quotes · 3 years

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Commissioner Hiwatari: Damn it, Dark's gone! And he took another artwork!

Satoshi, holding a piece of paper: Father I found a note!

Commissioner Hiwatari, takes it: Let me see that! All it says is "Dear Morons" and it's a picture of a butt!

Satoshi: ...Can I see it father?

#incorrect dn angel quotes #dn angel #incorrect quotes #satoshi hiwatari #commissioner hiwatari #source: tfs #dark mousy

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luanna801 · 3 years

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One thing that keeps sticking with me after this reveal, which is a whole layer to this that I'm 99% sure Sugisaki never intended, is that we're now looking at a situation where both of Satoshi’s abusers try to justify what they've done to him by saying they love him.

To be clear, I think we're intended to take that at face value in Hiwatari's case but not in Krad's, though there was certainly a time in canon when that wasn't a foregone conclusion. My personal read on Krad tends towards the idea that the only part of love he understands is possessiveness, so that in his mind the way he wants to take over his Tamers is "love". In Hiwatari's case, I think Sugisaki wants us to see his love as the genuine article (exemplified by his ultimate sacrifice), though I think everything we've seen of his character in canon supports the idea that he, too, has a concept of love that's warped beyond anything healthy or normative.

In a sense, though... it doesn't matter. Or rather, it might matter to our understanding of Hiwatari's character, but it's irrelevant to what Satoshi’s experiences have been. Hiwatari might genuinely, truly, deeply love Satoshi in the depths of his heart, but he still had no problem doing things like this to him:

In fact, one of the things that's most disturbing to me, when you stop to realize it, is that the only people Satoshi has heard the words "I love you" from are people who hurt him. People who, I would strongly argue, both use their "love" as a justification for the ways they've hurt him.

I genuinely believe Daisuke does love Satoshi, and considering we're presumably heading towards a SatoRisa ending, I suppose we're meant to believe Risa does too (despite that not really having been established by the story). But neither of them has said as much to him. Neither, in what we see on-page at least, did his mother - she says that he has her heart, which arguably means the same thing, but she never uses the word “love”, and the whole thing kind of comes across as her praising him as her own creation more than expressing normal maternal affection. It's possible she did say she loved him offscreen, of course (and you could honestly write an entirely different essay about the implications of that "love"), but going purely by what we see on-page, the word "love" is one Satoshi only ever hears interconnected with abuse.

What does that start to do to a person's conception of love? One of the things I've always admired about Satoshi’s character is how unflinchingly he pushes back at his abusers, but how long can you hear the word "love" used by people who hurt you before you start to think maybe that is what love is? Especially in a world where his father now sacrificed himself for him out of 'love' - how far does that go in redefining how Satoshi sees everything that came before it? How far does it go towards retroactively putting everything under the banner of "love"?

And most of all, how could that realistically not warp his idea of what it means to love someone going forward, or what it means for him to be loved by someone? How could that not be something that effects every relationship he has in the future?

#d.n.angel #dnangel #d.n.angel spoilers #satoshi hiwatari #satoshi hikari #commissioner hiwatari #krad #analysis #character analysis #rambling #abuse #tw: abuse

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fyeahiwatarikei · 2 months

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🫱 to take an object from my muse’s hand + Inspector pls?

Love Language - Physical Touch Starters

Take an object from the other’s hand

“Wha…!”

The lighter had already switched hands, more or less against its owner’s will and definitely without consent. What mattered in these situations was being swift; Kei had regretted his own hesitations so many times before. Not this night.

Saehara’s silhouette had stood out against the wall of the building, wrapped in its usual beige coat up to the chin; the familiar gesture of a hand foraging in a pocket had revealed enough for Kei to immediately abandon the path home to join it. Cigarette already perched on his lip, the man had peeked at what was approaching in long strides, but didn’t anticipate the long fingers grabbing his lighter directly from his hand.

In a second, they faced each other, Commissioner Hiwatari raising his eyes to look at him with a smile, Inspector Saehara too baffled to make a constructive comment up. Kei loved these brief, way too rare moments when he managed to catch someone off-guard. Social constraints forced him into peacefully blending in the background, thus these indulgent moments tasted like treats: for a few seconds, not only was the chosen object of his attention looking back at him, and at him only, but they were wondering about his intentions, his thoughts, about him.

After two attempts, the tiny flame sprang, separating them, barely spreading more luminosity than the distant street light.

Kei’s mouth gently twisted in an inviting pout, Saehara’s eyelids lowered. The cigarette came closer. Soon, the tip reddened, retreated back; the flame disappeared.

“I thought you hated smoke.”

“I still do, Inspector.”

“Then why?”

Out of respect for his boss, who still stood dangerously close to his face with no intention to leave this privileged point of view, he refused to draw smoke in, but the tobacco still got consumed uselessly. Kei had gotten what he wanted, at last, and couldn’t conceal satisfaction, traits frozen in almost cruel delight. What a pleasant, unexpected moment.

“Let me guess,” Saehara added. “You like watching old men enjoying their private vices?”

“Does self-destruction count as a vice?”

This time, smoke entered the other’s lungs, lengthily, attentively. Yet, under close scrutinization, it got released on the other side, where it would bother slightly less. How courteous. Despite the unpleasant smell, Kei felt a push of excitement in his chest. What would be the best way to conduct this discussion straight into his apartment…?

“I guess it does. Want a taste…?”

Saehara's indulgence had left, replaced by irony. He perfectly knew what his boss’ answer would always be. There was no reason for Kei to be the only one enjoying the moment, after all.

“Only from your lips.”

#dnangel #valentine 2024 #ask #fanfiction #mine #fugitivehugs #underling #I hope you like this ship because here comes the self-indulgence!

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