#blind sighted

[sensorybin]

I look at you and he looks at me.

—3:09AM

[thetunesclub]

A.N.T has mended ways in jazz and trap music with impeccable versatility in his latest renditions

A.N.T has enthralled fans all across the globe with his immaculate style in his latest songs. The tracks have brilliant tunes and beats of jazz and trap music.

[thetunesclub]

A.N.T Showcases Unmatched Musicality in his latest track 'Blind Sighted' on Spotify

Blind Sighted, a song by A.N.T on Spotify

[lal-nila-syrin]

Echoes

Originally part of The Air in My Lungs, because I had been exploring the idea of Daisuke communicating with the world through his voice, b-but the scene was so disjoint from the other that I decided to separate it into this short story. uwu

(Also as of this story I’ve stopped appending “side story” onto the fics, because they’re really not side stories. J-just fics that happen to take place at some point in time in the same universe as Blind Sighted.)

Though this chapter got expanded from the original idea... it borrows from Chapter 6: Skyscraper’s Notice in the canon manga, s-so it’s actually probably more of a sequel to Blind Sighted than the others so far. (Though there are still a few stories between Chapters 2-6 that I may write s-someday? Eventually.)

This probably takes place before Colorless. So Satoshi and Daisuke aren’t exactly friends yet!

Others in this series: Blind Sighted | Colorless | A Sense of Touch | The Air in My Lungs

~~~~~

Echoes: A DNAngel Blind AU Story

~~~~~

“Let’s walk home together.”

Daisuke paused at the sound of his classmate’s voice, his shoulders stiffening ever so slightly. It--it’s Hiwatari-kun! He thought nervously, though he smiled nonetheless and replied, “It’s, um--I would like to, but...”

“Harada or Saehara normally walk with you, don’t they? But it seems lately Harada has been preoccupied, and Saeahara is busy today... you don’t mind if I walk with you, right?” Satoshi asked in his stoic voice, though there was something strained about it.

“Oh, uh... alright. Okay.” Daisuke nodded, tapping his stick on the ground habitually as he made his way down the street, away from the school’s main gates.

Daisuke listened to his unlikely companion’s quiet footsteps beside him, thinking it odd that Satoshi was even talking to him--the boy really didn’t associate himself with others.

So... why...? Does he have something to say to me? He actually asked if he could walk home with me... Daisuke thought, keeping his face carefully schooled except for slightly furrowed eyebrows, and despite his heart thumping loudly in his chest. Could it be that he... he must want to arrest me and escort me to the police station!?

Before Daisuke’s panic could escalate, Saotshi’s soft whisper reached his ears.

“...Yesterday...”

Daisuke jumped in surprise, his eyebrows raising as he turned his head toward his classmate, yelping more loudly than was necessary, “Ah! Y--yes?”

“I made a bet with someone,” Satoshi continued, unperturbed by Daisuke’s panicky nature, and Daisuke nearly froze at those words. He could feel Satoshi’s gaze flicker to him, the hairs on the back of his neck standing in a way that Daisuke knew meant someone was looking at him in a not-as-friendly-as-he’d-like way. Satoshi was silent for a moment, before he elaborated, “A bet with Dark.”

“Is... is that so.”

Daisuke, of course, recalled the moment in the back of his mind easily, echoes of memories whispering themselves to the forefront.

“I need to have a chat with you, high commander.”

Daisuke had just pulled off their latest heist, but Dark had requested complete control after it was securely in their hands. With Daisuke being the one to do most of the work, he knew Dark didn’t get much time to manifest, so though he was confused, he had gladly let Dark take over.

“Let’s make a bet.”

“...A bet?”

“If I can steal Euphyllia’s Nightscape next week, then... you can’t do a thing to ‘him’.”

Satoshi had been suspicious, it was obvious in his voice at the time. Daisuke had fretted nervously in the back of his shared mind--what had Dark been planning? The phantom thief had often kept his thoughts to himself, and Daisuke had no idea where he was going with that risk. He could sense the feelings coming off Dark in waves, though--despite how cocky his voice was, he didn’t actually have the confidence to back it up--just the acting skills.

“Even though you’re not the thief?”

The skepticism in Satoshi’s coldly spoken phrase sent shivers down Daisuke’s spine, if only because of the fact that Satoshi knew it was Daisuke who pulled off most of the heists. Daisuke didn’t know how exactly the boy had known, but he figured it had something to do with what he had said the first night--“What peculiar eyes you have.”

He still didn’t know what Satoshi had meant by that.

“I will be.”

“...Fine. Then what if... you don’t steal it?”

The resignation and exasperation was evident, if only because Satoshi had known Dark wouldn’t give him a choice but to accept the bet, but Daisuke had detected a hint of amusement and curiosity. He had been wondering how Dark planned to follow through with his bet, too.

“...Then he said that if I won, I could do as I pleased,” Satoshi’s voice brought Daisuke back to the present time, and he blinked his silver-white eyes slowly.

“Re--really...” Daisuke cleared his throat, attempting to appear as though he had been listening the whole time, “H... he said that to you? Y-you must be joking!” He laughed nervously--he could still feel Satoshi’s cold, dark gaze directly on him.

Daisuke heard the long stride of the other’s quick footsteps before he felt the presence in front of him, and he stopped in place when the thud of a hand hitting concrete sounded right ahead of his ear.

“H-Hiwatari-kun?”

“Who do you think it was?”

“Eh?”

“Who do you think he was talking about?” Satoshi elaborated, his voice far closer than Daisuke was comfortable with--and he was normally one who didn’t mind close proximity to anyone. It made his heart beat faster and adrenaline threatened to pump through his veins because he wanted to flee or fight--the fear of being caught was very real, especially when Daisuke was sure that Satoshi had, somehow, found out his secret. That he was Dark.

But even so, he had no proof--and Daisuke was determined to keep it that way, so he played dumb, as usual.

“I don’t know.”

The gaze he could feel on him intensified, and curious suspicion colored the blue-haired boy’s tone. “Really...”

Approaching footsteps brought relief, even more so when it was accompanied by a very familiar trill. “Daisuke-chan~!”

“Mom!” He gasped, turning his head toward her--and thankfully, the rise of the hairs on his neck left him, which meant Satoshi had looked away too.

“Oh, you’re with a friend? Invite him to the house!” Emiko chirped cheerfully. It was always nice when Daisuke made new friends--not too many people knew how to handle his blindness, after all.

But then she met the boy’s gaze, and she froze.

Daisuke’s shoulders tensed when he heard her near inaudible gasp, and suddenly she was next to him, grabbing him by the arm to lead him away.

“Huh? Um, Mom--”

“...Let’s go home, Daisuke.” She said sternly, suspicion lacing the undertone of her voice, dragging him gently away as she used to do when he was younger. He tried to protest, turning his head slightly to listen for Satoshi’s reaction, but she didn’t let him, cutting him off. “If we stay out too late, your grandfather will get worried.” She said flippantly--obviously, this was only an excuse.

“Oh, um--okay. Uh, bye, Hiwatari-kun!” Daisuke called over his shoulder--he heard Satoshi only grunt softly in response, but no footsteps indicating that he was moving anywhere in particular. Once they had gone several minutes without speaking, Emiko finally let go of his arm. Daisuke titled his head up to his mother. “You’re acting really strange... why did you suddenly....”

“Daisuke, be more careful around that boy, alright?”

The serious tone in his mother’s usually bright and cheerful voice was somewhat disconcerting, and very confusing. Daisuke tried to ask her what she meant, but she wouldn’t provide any answers, so he dropped the subject with a sigh.

He understood Dark’s mistrust of Satoshi--the boy was the police commander, and faced Dark every time they went on a heist, and his presence was a constant threat to their freedom. But Daisuke had never told his mother about Satoshi, and Dark had never mentioned it as far as he knew, so what did Emiko see in Satoshi that made her so cautious? What did she know?

He tried to ask Dark, but the thief didn’t reply either.

~~~

“Okay, Dark--are you sure about this?”

“Heck yeah--I’ll win that bet, Dai. I’m not the great Phantom Thief Dark for nothing!” The purple-haired thief grinned to himself, “So, give me those pointers you said you had! I’m going to pull off this heist by myself, I swear it!”

“If you say so...” Daisuke hummed in amusement, “Well, I guess the first thing would be figuring out your way around the house. If you can’t figure that out, then it would be pretty hard to figure out the gallery--there are more narrow hallways here, and the gallery is mostly open space.”

Dark crossed his arms. “Alright, and how would I figure out my way around the house without just memorizing the layout?”

“Listen.” Daisuke replied, “How much space do you hear in the room?”

“How much space do I hear?” Dark asked incredulously, “It’s not something you can--”

“Listen.” Daisuke commanded again, more firmly, interrupting the thief when his voice spilled from their lips instead of Dark’s.

Dark frowned, but he nodded, staring into the black void of Daisuke’s normal eyesight and focusing on his ears, straining it in the silence.

“Sound is made of vibrations traveling through the air. The air around us is constantly moving, shifting with every breath--and when it shifts, there’s sound... you just have to listen for it.” Daisuke whispered in his mind, careful not to break his other’s concentration. “Pay attention to how far away the shifts are--it will tell you how big the room is.”

Dark spent a good hour standing in the middle of the room, trying to form the shape of it in his mind without calling up the physical image of how he already knew it to be.

“When you think you know, walk to the door--if you crash into something, you misjudged the distance.”

“Gee, I think that’s obvious.” Dark said dryly, pausing as he picked up on how his voice flowed through the air, how it seemed to change and shift as it hit any obstacles in its way. How Daisuke’s chair obscured the sound, and how his soft bed absorbed it.

He took a step forward.

~~~

“Geez, how do you do this all the time?” Dark shook his head, having finally made it to the kitchen after a slightly disastrous trip down the stairs and a too-long trek to the garage and back. “Listening for the shape of the room while standing still is hard--how do you do it while on the run?”

“Fourteen years of practice.” Daisuke could practically be heard shrugging, “That’s tomorrow’s lesson by the way.” He paused, “Do you really think you can do all of this in a week?”

“I’ve got to try, Daisuke.” Dark shrugged. “Besides, the thief thing is my gig. I’ve done it for four hundred years--a little blindness isn’t going to stop me from continuing to do it.” He added determinedly. “If fact, I just know it’ll make me better at what I do if I can do this!”

Daisuke smiled inwardly. “Huh. Well, after dinner, you can watch me do it, then we can practice some more.”

“Good plan. I’m starving!” Dark grinned, waving his hand as he tried to find the table, “Oii, Emiko! What’s cookin’?”

“Hey, why do you get to eat!?”

~~~

“In a noisy room, it’s actually easier to figure out the shape of the layout and where the obstacles are. If you can sense where the sounds are bouncing off or absorbing, then it’s easy to dodge or maneuver your way around.”

Daisuke was currently speaking out loud as he made his way through the house--Emiko was singing to herself as she did some chores; With was mewling as he hopped along at the redhead’s ankles; and the TV was blaring from where his grandfather was watching it in the living room, though Daisuke could tell the old man was more interested in watching them, judging from the stifled chuckles of amusement.

“So when you’re on the move, all that commotion in the museums usually helps?” Dark asked curiously.

“That, and the marble floors and walls. They echo a lot--you know how we can normally walk silently?” Dark made a sound of affirmation, and Daisuke continued, “Do you ever notice how much noise I make during a heist?”

The ancient thief paused to think about that, then realized that yes, every time they went to the museum, Daisuke’s footsteps had been audible--not obscenely loud enough as to alert the police of their presence, but just loud enough to make small clicks. Apparently this was deliberate.

“It’s much harder in outdoor spaces, because the sounds travel into the air, there, but I don’t think you’ll have to worry too much about being outdoors during a heist.” Daisuke continued, making his way through the living room, distinctly aware of Daiki watching him from the couch. With hopped over to join him, purring when he was pet. “Once you learn how to judge distances based on the length of sounds, then it’s pretty easy to maneuver anywhere without an aid.”

“I always did wonder how you managed the heists without your stick.” Dark commented.

“I’ve never really needed the stick--not since I was twelve.” Daisuke shrugged, “It’s mostly for show. And sometimes for outdoor areas, like when we went on that field trip to the mountains. Definitely needed it there.”

“Right then, think I can give it a shot now?” Dark asked, and Daisuke laughed, complying and switching places with him with a single thought of the girl he liked.

“Okay then,” Dark straightened up, “what route should I go this time?”

“You should try the obstacle course some time.” Daiki snickered.

“Daisuke says I’m not ready for that--pah! Screw you Daisuke, I’ll be able to do it by the end of the week, I’ll bet you that!” Dark protested indignantly to his head mate. Daiki and With both laughed, and Dark ignored them with a huff.

“Right. Alright then, try to get up to the balcony in mom’s room.” Daisuke instructed. “Also, if you have trouble, try talking out loud.”

“Talking out loud?” Dark wondered, beginning to make his way forward depending on his ears alone.

“Yeah--like I said, the more sound there is, the easier it is to detect the space around you. Even without echoes, it helps.”

“I kind of got that--I understood about that much on the first day,” Dark murmured. “It’s... really weird, though? I mean, I haven’t been able to do those kinds of things before, and I’ve been blindfolded in the past.”

“Well... it is my body. Maybe you’re instinctively using some of my skills?” Daisuke suggested. “Or it’s a muscle memory thing.”

“Probably,” Dark shrugged, rather comforted by the conversation as he continued trying to make his way through the house, “You know, it’s... kind of like echolocation.”

“Of course. I did develop the technique based on it.”

Dark’s eyes widened in surprise. “No way. You’re kidding.”

“I make up for my deficiencies in ways you can’t even emulate, Dark.” Daisuke laughed, “I studied up on how sound works and how other blind or nearly-blind creatures get around in an attempt to understand myself better. What can I say? I was ten and curious.”

“Impressive.” Dark had to admit, nodding in approval.

“It took me two years to master something like this though--and I’ve been blind my whole life, so it was easier to adjust to it. You, on the other hand, depend too much on sight, so I don’t really expect you to get much more than the basics.”

“Oi--I’m the great phantom thief! Don’t underestimate me!”

“You’re about to run into a wall.”

“I am n--oof! Oww...”

“Haha. Told you.”

~~~

Satoshi quirked an eyebrow when he saw his redheaded classmate slide into his seat next to him. The boy had been awkward ever since the confrontation about the bet, but at least he was still amiable.

“Um, good morning, Hiwatari-kun.”

The young police commander was well aware that the blind boy was the real thief of the heists, but still... the cocky phantom thief he met during the nights in the museums was such a contrast to the kindhearted, clumsy blind boy who sat next to him now.

“...Good morning.”

No one would have suspected the blind Niwa of being a high-class wanted criminal. If the disability weren’t so genuine, Satoshi would have thought Daisuke was faking it to throw off any suspicion that he might have been one and the same with Dark.

But it wasn’t like that at all--and Satoshi peered into those eerie white eyes, searching, trying to figure out the truth behind the mysterious boy. Sweet, shy Daisuke Niwa was the overconfident, egotistical Dark. Sometimes it was hard to wrap his head around the idea that they were one person--the dissonance in their personalities was astounding, yet somehow... they were indeed two sides of the same coin.

Satoshi was after Dark--that was his entire life’s goal, to capture the cursed winged thief who stole the artworks created by the Hikari clan. To stop his sinful ways and break the curse on his own family before it was too late and he ran out of time.

But he was also sure that the one he chased every night wasn’t Dark. Because more often than not, he would be looking up at the black-winged angel and the eyes he saw never directly met his gaze. The angle was never right, the violet-red too lightless.

If those eyes had been white, that would have been all the proof he needed to arrest Daisuke--because no matter how unwilling a participant he was in the heists, he was still a major part of them. He wasn’t sure if it was Dark who spoke to him during the heists, or if Daisuke was just an exceptional actor, but he knew for sure that Dark wasn’t able to handle this generation’s defects alone. Daisuke was a criminal, and Satoshi had every right to arrest him.

Sometimes he wondered why he hadn’t yet.

“So, um...”

Satoshi sighed, glancing over at his classmate. “Yes, Niwa?”

“Nothing. Oh, um, thanks for the notes for this week, I wouldn’t have been able to study without them.” Daisuke fidgeted awkwardly.

“Don’t mention it.” Satoshi said nonchalantly, his eyebrows furrowing as he got a better look at the redhead. He stared silently as the boy looked sightlessly ahead, seemingly unaware of his intense gaze. “...What happened to your face?”

“Huh?” Daisuke blinked, turning his head toward the bespectacled boy. A nervous sweat started to roll from his forehead. “M-my face? Is there something wrong with it?”

“You have bruises on your nose and cheek...” Satoshi frowned.

“Oh! That...” Daisuke relaxed a bit, his shoulders drooping in embarrassment, “I, um, ran into a wall. It happens sometimes. I--I wasn’t paying attention, and it was an unfamiliar area, so...”

“...I see.”

Somehow Satoshi got the feeling that Daisuke was lying, because he was definitely more coordinated than that, despite his occasional clumsiness.

He wondered if Daisuke’s lies and his very nature as a thief was something he should have hated more--and why he didn’t. Because really, Daisuke was too different than what he imagined Dark’s tamer would be like--and he wasn’t prepared for that.

~~~

“Over here!” Dark’s voice teased the cops, and they ran like headless chickens in the opposite direction.

Once the guards were gone and Dark gave him the signal that it was clear, Daisuke in Dark’s form stepped out of the shadows, smiling at his achievement.

“Not bad, kid.” Dark whistled, “I don’t think I’ve ever had a partner who was as good at throwing their voice as you are.”

“It helps to know how sound moves through space.” Daisuke grinned cheekily, running for the private gallery room.

“Alright, we got in, but now it’s my turn.”

Daisuke nodded. “Good luck, Dark.” He didn’t stop running as the transformation completed, the red eyes becoming slightly darker with Dark’s control. “If you need my help...”

“Please, kid. I won’t need it.” Dark smirked, “I’ll win this bet on my own!”

He quick-changed into a disguise, slowing his pace as he got closer to the room he was targeting. His footsteps echoed against the high ceilings and marble columns, and his ears twitched as he made his way forward the way he had practiced all week.

One room left... if it’s that one, then I’m home free! Dark smirked. Really, it was a good thing Daisuke’s superior hearing had been able to pick up the conversation of the party in the main gallery--else they would have stolen a fake, and that wouldn’t do at all. So here they were, making their way to the one place they knew the police would have hidden the painting--deep within the gallery, the room with the most security.

He punched the code into the lock at the main door, listening to it slide open without a fuss. As he crossed into the laser-protected area, he stopped just before the hum of electricity and heat--and a voice mechanically demanded, “Name confirmation.”

He inwardly bragged to Daisuke that he could imitate voices as well as the redhead could even without the deep understanding of the science behind it, and he spoke clearly and powerfully in Satoshi’s voice, “Satoshi Hiwatari from the Azumano Police Station.”

The machine beeped twice almost angrily, grouching out, “Error. Name confirmation again please.”

Dark’s eyes narrowed. Error? How could that be?

“Dark, there’s another presence in the room--I can hear them breathing!” Daisuke said hastily, right before another voice spoke.

“There’s only one way into here... Dark.”

Dark froze in surprise. Satoshi was standing somewhere a few feet ahead of them, a slightly smug undertone in his voice. He apparently already thought he was triumphant.

“The same person cannot pass through the security twice. Though you didn’t have to pull a stunt like this to get in, you could have hacked the system.”

“I’ll take that as an invitation.” Dark smirked, still speaking in Satoshi’s voice, hoping to unnerve him. Without ceremony, he reached up to the security device and cracked the code, shutting the lasers off. “Congratulations for getting one step ahead of me.”

“Tch. Why don’t you come in then, Dark?” Satoshi asked knowingly, straightening up from where he was leaning against the wall.

“Geez, you’re no fun.” Dark snorted, reaching under his mask and pulling off the whole disguise in one fluid movement. The grinning face of the purple-haired thief greeted the young police commander as he declared, “Our bet starts now!”

Satoshi braced himself as sightless red eyes gazed at and beyond him, his eyes narrowing in anticipation.

~~~

Daisuke seemed particularly distracted, when he quite literally bumped into Satoshi at school the next day. Satoshi glanced at him nonchalantly, his gaze flickering behind the redhead for the briefest moments to catch sight of Risa Harada disappearing around the corner with her friend. It was no secret Daisuke had a crush on her--that must have been why he was distracted.

“S-sorry!” Daisuke stammered in embarrassment, drawing Satoshi’s attention back to him. He gasped when he heard a small grunt in response, instantly recognizing the voice. “Hiwatari-kun!”

Satoshi blinked slowly, a little surprised the boy recognized him from such a trivial, minute sound. He stared calculatingly at the redhead, especially when he flustered and seemed to remember something.

“Oh, yes! I forgot!” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a familiar handkerchief. “Here! Thank you for lending it to me, before.”

“Mm...” Satoshi took it, looking down at it contemplatively. He had given this to Daisuke when they first met, and the boy had been crying in lament of his terrible luck... Daisuke had remembered this? Honestly Satoshi had forgotten, it was just a small token, insignificant and replaceable.

He glanced up at the redhead, who was still blushing from his clumsiness and flustering, and muttered a quiet “thank you” as he turned away to leave.

“Ah...” Daisuke seemed perplexed by the boy’s closed-off nature--they had been getting along so well before... or at least, relatively speaking, it was better than when he was still thirteen. Even if it had been awkward because Daisuke was afraid of getting caught, he still found the other boy to be somewhat kind and very lonely, and had determined to get to know him better. But now it seemed that he didn’t want to talk to him, like they were strangers again.

Was it because of Dark’s bet?

“I won.” Dark had said the night before, a triumphant smirk on his face, “So you can’t touch him... and you can bet on this: it’ll be me, much much more often, now.”

Did Dark’s bet mean that Satoshi wouldn’t talk to him anymore?

Daisuke wouldn’t have that.

“H-Hiwatari-kun!” He called out, and he heard the boy stop. Taking it as a sign that the blue-haired boy was listening, he risked asking, “When it’s me, you won’t catch me, right?”

Satoshi was silent for a long time, contemplating the answer. Finally, he turned back around with a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

“...What are you talking about?”

The happy smile that lit up Daisuke’s face was probably worth turning around for, because Satoshi was sure that, even if they were two sides of the same coin... Daisuke and Dark were surely irreconcilable--only Daisuke could smile like that, as if Satoshi’s simple words had just made his day.

And really Satoshi couldn’t hate him for that, he thought as the echoes of Daisuke’s smile made its way into his own.

[lal-nila-syrin]

I keep writing Blind Sighted Side Stories w-when really they're all snippets of one big AU a-and not really Side Stories... I-I should really stop calling them side stories, t-that implies I'll eventually continue Blind Sighted with a direct sequel...

[lal-nila-syrin]

The Air in My Lungs

With all the talk of the DN dramas lately, and people posting the songs, this came to be... (Also I felt the need to play with DaiRiku since I really don't do that as often as I think I should.)

I was listening to Kaze Ni Naritai while writing this. (Also my attempt at transliterating the first part~ It's not an exact translation for lyrical reasons of course!)

Part of the Blind Sighted series. Another short story. Other shorts: (x) (x)

~~~~~

The Air in My Lungs: A DNAngel Blind AU Side Story

~~~~~

"The sun sets slowly, a dying gold just beyond, by mountains; and anywhere I go the green found along the road, continues onward almost endlessly." A quiet voice drifted through the air, as peaceful as the words that it formed, "This heart speeds up its beat, as I ride ahead on this white bicycle through it all; regardless of using the brakes, the first season rushes past me."

Riku paused in her trek from the lacrosse field, closing her eyes to listen to that sweet voice--for a moment, she didn't recognize it, but it made her heart warm.

"Somewhere I hear, the mournful song of rolling waves; in the distance, next to a sea of hope...!"

The brunette wandered closer to the source, opening her eyes and catching a flash of beautiful, bright red hair. A blush crossed her cheeks as she realized who was singing and why his voice was familiar--it was Daisuke.

"I want to become the wind, I want to become the wind..."

A soft gasp interrupted the song, because suddenly Daisuke had heard footsteps behind him. He tapped his walking stick on the ground, standing from where he had been sitting on the bench and turning to face her.

"Ah," Riku spoke, if only to let him know it was her--he could always tell, somehow, even if it was just a small sound like that. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you."

The surprised tension left Daisuke's shoulders, and he blushed in embarrassment with a shy grin. "Harada-san... ah, h-how long were you there...?"

"Not long," Riku smiled at him--he would hear it in her voice, he would know she was sort of lying about how long she was actually there, but that was okay--seeing his cute fluster made her blush deepen, and he didn't seem to mind that much. "I didn't know you could sing... you have a very nice voice, Niwa-kun."

"It's nothing," the redhead grinned sheepishly, fiddling with the strap on his walking stick. When his white eyes shifted to face her more directly, he changed the subject, "Did you just get out of practice?"

"Yeah, I was about to go home..." She stepped closer to him, stopping next to him so they weren't at such an odd speaking distance, and then paused in realization. "Ah, but you're here unusually late, Niwa-kun. What were you doing out here?"

"Oh, uh... I was spending some time at the art club with Hiwatari-kun," Daisuke admitted with a hint of pride, "He said he was going to clean up, and I thought I should wait for him, since I feel bad I couldn't help..."

"The art club?" Riku blinked. "With Hiwatari-kun--from our class?"

"Yeah."

"I... I didn't know you were friends with him." Riku said slowly, thinking about when she saw him in class. Now that she thought about it, the blind boy did seem to talk to his desk neighbor more often lately... "He's in the art club?"

"Yeah! He's teaching me how to sculpt," Daisuke grinned excitedly, "He says I'm getting really good at it, and it's fun!"

"Wow, I didn't know you were getting into that sort of thing," Riku said in awe, "Can I see sometime?"

"Sure!" Daisuke nodded, "I'm not very good yet, but Hiwatari-kun is really good, so I've got a good teacher!"

Riku laughed softly, shaking her head. "I really didn't think that boy could be friends was anyone... but if it's you, then it doesn't seem so impossible." She commented softly.

Daisuke tilted his head in confusion. "I know he's quiet, but is he really that unapproachable?"

"No, just... I don't know. There's something about him." Riku said thoughtfully. "But then again, there's something about you too." She stopped abruptly, "Ah, not in a bad way of course!"

Daisuke merely grinned and shook his head. "I didn't take any offense. I know what you meant." He motioned, "Hey, wanna wait with me?"

Riku blinked at the invitation, but watched as he sat down on the bench again, holding out his hand to catch the sunlight just beyond the line of the tree's shadow.

"Ah... sure." Riku answered when she realized she hadn't responded yet, moving to sit next to him. "What are you doing?"

"It's a really nice warm day out, isn't it?" Daisuke mused, "It feels... gold."

"Gold?" Riku blinked. What an odd description...

"Yeah... Hiwatari-kun and D--um, someone else I know... they've been trying to describe colors to me, and... this feels like what they described as gold," he motioned with his other hand to his palm, covered in sunlight, and then moved his fingers to the shadows on his wrist. "And this... I don't know how to describe it, but it's not quite 'blue'... It's the shadow on the back of this tree above us, isn't it? Something like that... maybe it's brown."

Riku stared at him, nonplussed, as the realization began to sink in that Daisuke didn't know what colors were, and would never know. It had never occurred to her that whenever people described things in color, he had no idea what they were talking about--so suddenly the description of the sunlight feeling gold didn't seem so odd anymore.

"Yeah, it's... pretty close. I mean, the gold part at least, I'm not sure about brown." The brunette teenager smiled sympathetically, trying to understand what he was feeling by holding out her own hand, closing her eyes, and imagining the feeling of the shadow on her wrist. "The sunlight is gold, especially at this time of day... so you're not wrong."

"Is it?" Daisuke turned his head toward her, "Does the sunlight come in different colors?"

"Yeah. In just an hour from now, it'll be red." Riku explained as she stared at her hand, "That's sunset. And after sunset, the sky will be black."

"I know." Daisuke said almost enigmatically, and the two of them fell silent. Daisuke let his hand fall to his lap, and he fiddled with his walking stick idly.

After a long moment, he freed his hand from the wristband of his walking stick, turning toward her slightly. "Can I see something?"

Riku blinked, but she nodded with a "yes?" before tilting her head. She watched Daisuke's hands reach up, as she had expected because he had asked to "see" something, and didn't flinch when his fingers gently brushed her hair aside and ghosted over the skin of her cheeks.

Riku tried hard not to blush, knowing he could feel it. He explored her face the way he had done many times in the past, and she wondered what he was looking for this time.

"What did you want to see?" She asked softly.

"I was thinking that... sometime, I want to sculpt you." Daisuke replied back just as gingerly, his thumb brushing over the bridge of her nose. "It's also been a while since I've seen your face, Harada-san. You've gotten prettier."

And at this, Riku did blush. "What?" She stammered, "I--I haven't changed much at all in years, Niwa-kun. I mean, aside from the hair cut, but..."

Daisuke paused, letting his hands trail to her hair, fingering a lock of reddish brown until it fell through his fingers. "Oh. I remember when you had cut it... but it's longer now. I forgot." He paused, finally withdrawing his hands back to himself, a light blush on his own cheeks. "But, when I said you were prettier... I meant, I don't know, there's something stronger about your face. Your eyes seem more defined and your cheeks are... firmer or something, I guess? The kind of firm that comes from smiling a lot. I think that's pretty."

Riku stared at him, completely awed and totally enchanted by his words. To have been thought of as pretty by these totally unconventional means...

A smile made its way to Riku's lips.

"Thank you, Niwa-kun."

"Y-you're welcome." He grinned shyly at her.

The two fell into companionable silence, and then Riku broke it by saying, "What were you singing earlier?"

"A song called 'I Want to Become the Wind'," Daisuke replied with a blush of embarrassment, "I don't sing often, but I guess that's been stuck in my head."

"Why don't you? I mean, sing more often." Riku tilted her head curiously.

Daisuke paused, his white eyes flickering toward her thoughtfully. "I don't really know. I guess I just don't think I'm that good."

"But you're really good," Riku insisted, crossing her arms. "I didn't hear much, but what I did..."

"You felt something, didn't you?"

The brunette paused. "What?"

"When you heard me singing, you felt something warm in your heart, right?" Daisuke's eyes trailed downward, and he gently gripped his walking stick, lain across his lap. She nodded and made a small sound of confirmation, and he continued, "My voice is the only way I can communicate, Harada-san. And I guess it's just better at doing that when I sing."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm blind," Daisuke said softly, and Riku flinched like she did whenever he brought it up. Time and time again, he had proven he was okay with being blind, but sometimes she wondered if he really accepted it... "The world communicates with me through my hands, the feeling on my skin, through the sounds it makes, through the smells in the air, through the tastes in my mouth... but I can't communicate back, for the most part. I can't read or write, I can't do a lot of things normal people do; but I can talk and I can sing, and I have my voice. So... even if my voice isn't perfect... I want to use it to communicate the best I can. Even if, a lot of the time, I'm stuck just plain speaking so people can understand my feelings."

Riku's expression softened. "If you don't mind... can I listen to you sing sometime?"

Daisuke blushed a deep red, but he nodded shyly, smiling gently. "S-sometime, maybe."

Riku smiled and reached over, touching his arm. He turned his gaze toward her, and she whispered, "I want to be able to understand Niwa-kun's feelings. So no matter how you can or want to communicate them... I want to listen. Okay?"

Daisuke's other hand came up and he held it over hers, a grateful look shining in his silver eyes.

"Okay."

He looked forward again and took a deep breath. He could feel the air in his lungs, filling his chest with warmth like the gentle touch on his arm.

Riku watched with a loving sigh as his beautiful voice once again filled the dying afternoon.

"I want to become the wind..."

[penandmuse]

The Dark Carnival: Blind Sighted by Michelle Ceasar Davis

The Dark Carnival: Blind Sighted by Michelle Ceasar Davis

I see you haven’t gotten enough of the Dark Carnival yet.

Welcome back for more thrills and terrors to carry you into the night!

You can see the live list of participants and their posts dates on this link.

Follow the buzz on twitter using the official hashtag #DarkCarnival.

  Oh, and don’t forget to scroll to the bottom of this post for a giveaway!

  Blind Sighted

by Michelle Ceasar Davis

Devin licked his lips. Sawdust and manure, with a touch of salt. Yuck. The carnival had definitely arrived to town on that sweltering July night. At 9 o’clock, it was still 90 plus degrees with a humidity far too high for comfort and not a suggestion of a cooling breeze. Everyone he knew was standing in line for the swing ride or the beer tent. Everyone but Josie.

No, Josie wanted to walk the midway and have him spend his week’s paycheck winning her all those crap prizes that the carnies drag from town to town. She didn’t have to spend 14 hour days in a stamping factory where the sweat ran into your boots like a river. She sat in an air-conditioned beauty parlor and talked to all the old ladies about who was sleeping with whom at the nursing home. That money was his reward for losing five pounds of water weight every day he crossed that threshold into hell and he wasn’t going to let any woman with a pretty face tell him when he could and couldn’t go the beer garden.

Except.

Except whatever Josie wanted, Devin did give her, like walking the midway and throwing balls at milk bottles that were glued together and squirting water into balloons that had holes in them. He watched her stretch on her tiptoes as she selected the large monkey that cost him over $25. Her tank top rode up, revealing a beautiful bronze belly and glittery belly button ring. He smiled. Yeah, he wanted to drink beer out of that belly button tonight.

He reached out and cupped Josie’s ass, his fingers lingering along the frayed edge of her cutoffs.

“Not here,” she said, swatting his hand away. “People are watching.”

“When has that ever bothered you?”

She stomped her foot, raising a small dust cloud. “Hold this.” She pushed the monkey into Devin’s arms, sidestepping him completely.

Devin rolled his eyes. He picked up the stuffed pink alligator and three mirrors from the counter and followed Josie. “At least let me take this shit to the car.”

She stopped and turned, her hands on her hips. “I told everyone that you were going to win me everything at this carnival, and I’ll be damned if they don’t see us with everything with any value.”

“It’s too friggin’ hot to carry this crap around. Let’s go cool off with a few drinks in the beer tent.”

“We haven’t done everything yet. There’s still that ring toss game, the guys who guess my weight and age, oh, and that boy who does the drawings.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He tried to change the arrangement of the prizes in his arms but his sweat made the animals cling even closer.

“You know, the boy who draws faces. I want to have our faces done.”

“Can we do that and then find some place cooler?”

She smiled. She quickly closed the gap between them and linked her arm through his, pushing the plush monkey even closer to him. “Whatever will make you happy.”

The caricature portrait booth was on the other end of the midway, providing Josie with many opportunities to have Devin win her more prizes. By the time they reached their destination, his skill at games of chance rewarded them with two more large stuffed animals, an extra-large beer mug, and a few Metallica and Iron Maiden tee shirts. The chair was empty when the couple approached and Josie skipped to sit in front of the boy.

“Make me look gorgeous,” she said, pulling down her tank top to reveal even more cleavage.

Devin noticed the young man’s eyes didn’t move to her. In fact, they seemed to be everywhere but on Josie. “Is he all right?” he asked a much older woman who stood nearby.

“His name is George, and he’s my son,” she said, placing a protective hand on his shoulder. “He’s perfectly fine, just blind. And mute.”

“Blind? How can he draw?”

“God gave him the power. We don’t question why He did, only use it to support us.”

Devin waved his hand in front of George’s face. His eyes didn’t focus on the hand, only darted in different directions. “How much for the drawing?”

“Twenty dollars for just her,” George’s mother said, pointing at Josie. “Twenty-five to include you.”

“Devin, just pay her the twenty-five dollars. I really want this.” Josie’s bottom lip protruded slightly.

That damn pout. Nothing was sexier on her than that. “Fine.” He removed the bills from his money clip and took a seat next to Josie.

“If he’s blind, how does he know what color my hair is, or how long it is?” Josie asked. ”Or the shade of my lip gloss? Or how tan I am?”

“Stop talking so he can do his work,” George’s mother said.

Devin saw a man approach from his left, a caricature portrait in his outstretched hand. “I want to talk to you!”

“We’re in the middle of a seating. Come back later.”

“No, I want to talk about this now.” He put the drawing in front of the mother’s face. “What the hell is this?”

“It’s a drawing of your wife. I remember her from yesterday.”

“And what’s this?” He pointed to something else on the drawing, something Devin couldn’t see.

“It’s a car.” She rolled her eyes. “We do lots of drawings with cars in the background.”

“But it’s not my car,” he said. “And it’s not her car either.” He paused for a moment. “Whose car is it?”

“It’s just a car.”

“No it’s not. A car identical to that one hit my wife today when she was crossing the street. She was in the damn crosswalk! Do you know where she is now?” The man stepped in front of the mother. “Do you? Do you know where she is? She’s in the fucking morgue! The fucking morgue! This car ran her over! I want to know why it’s in this picture.” He moved in front of George and started to shake his shoulders. “Why did you draw this car? What do you know?”

“Stop it! Leave him alone! Security! Help! Help!” The mother tried to pull the man away from George. “He’s hurting him! Make him stop! Make him stop!”

“Do something,” Josie said, pushing Devin toward the commotion. “You can’t let him hurt George or our drawing.”

Devin got up, walked to the shouting two-some, and tapped the man on the shoulder. “Hey, leave the kid alone. He didn’t drive the car.”

The man turned around. “Who the hell are you? Stay out of this.”

“Tell him,” George’s mother said. “Tell him what I told you.”

“The kid is blind,” Devin said. “He didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“She could’ve done it. Obviously she can see.”

“What’s the point, man? It was an accident, a coincidence at best. Just go and grieve for your wife.”

“These two are responsible for her death, I know they are. This,” he pointed to the car in the picture, “can’t be a coincidence.”

Devin looked at the picture and understood what the man meant. That car wasn’t a non-descript silver automobile that Detroit or Korea or Japan turned out by the millions. No, that was a 1969 Ford Thunderbird with a custom metallic blue paint job and white hard top. In fact, it looked so good, it almost looked brand new, like it left the showroom floor only minutes before.

“That’s the car that hit your wife?” Devin asked, shaking his head.

“Yeah. It happened about three miles from here. And of course it was the only intersection without a working closed circuit camera.”

“Still, you’d think the police would be able to find a car like that that needed a lot of body work.”

“They can’t find anything around here. All the garages service new vehicles, nothing this old. The guy probably works on it himself.”

“That’s another reason why it can’t be the kid,” Devin said. “He’s blind.”

“But he can draw.”

“I know, but somehow that’s different.”

A rent-a-cop ran up to Devin and the other man. “Which of you is going to jail tonight?”

“He’s the one, officer,” the mother said, pointing to the widower. “He’s the one that threatened me and George.”

“He didn’t threaten anyone,” Devin said. “He’s upset and looking for someone to blame for his wife’s death. Just let him go home.”

The security guard grabbed the other man’s upper arm. “No can do. We have a zero tolerance policy about violence, mister, and this guy needs to cool off in jail.”

“Whatever,” Devin said. “You’re gonna do what you think is right anyway.”

“Don’t get involved,” Josie shouted. “Get back here so we can get our portrait finished.”

He rolled his eyes. Get involved. Don’t get involved. If it weren’t for her body and looks, there would be no reason to stay with her.

Instead, he resumed his pose next to Josie and waited for George to finish the drawing. Ten minutes later, George put down his pastels and handed the picture to his mother.

“Very good, dear,” she said, placing a loud kiss on the top of his head. “This one is excellent. You really captured the soullessness in her eyes.”

“The what?” Josie asked, walking toward George.

“It’s nothing to worry about. He prides himself in depicting the essence of his subjects.”

“I don’t like that way that sounds,” Devin said.

“Again, it’s his style. All the art critics like that about his portraits.”

“What’s this?” He pointed to a small line drawing in the background of the caricature.

“Oh that.” The mother took a magnifying glass out of her bosom. “It’s obviously a train.”

“Really.” Josie bit her lower lip. “Maybe he thinks we’re going on a cross country trip somewhere. Maybe to California or Seattle.” She tugged on Devin’s arm. “Wouldn’t that be great? A real vacation!”

The expenses of a vacation flooded his brain. “Sure, a vacation out West. Maybe we’re also supposed to rob a train to pay for it.”

“Stop being that way.” Josie took the picture and held it out at arm’s length. “I think this is a great picture of us. Probably better than any photographer could do.”

“Sure.” He gathered up their prize winnings. “All I know is I can finally get a drink at the beer tent.”

“It’s too hot. Let’s go for a drive with the air conditioning on instead.”

“You were fine with it before.”

She stomped her foot again. “That was before we sat there for, I don’t know, like 20 minutes. I want to get cool and sitting in a tent with a bunch of your beer buddies is not my idea of getting cool.”

“Josie, I have done everything you asked here. I’ve carried all this shit around with the thought that I’d have a few beers at the end of the day.”

She slid against him and ran her finger down the side of his cheek. “But if I can get out of this heat and cooled down, I’ll do something that can get us all hot and sticky again,” she whispered near his ear.

Beer or screwing? It was no contest, screwing would win every time.

  The search party found the 2004 black Chevrolet Impala two days later near the railroad tracks. According to witnesses and the official police report, it appeared the car had been struck by a train, even though it had stopped running through town 25 years ago. A resident who lived near the scene, a Mrs. Vivian Rasmussen, told authorities she heard a train whistle that night and thought she had even seen the light from an engine.

The bodies of Devin McClinton and Josie Fitzgerald have yet to be found.

  WIN!

Anyone may enter the giveaway. This includes the artist and writers contributing to the Dark Carnival, as well as the readers of the stories. Enjoy! Muahahahahaha! Ahem. I mean good luck.

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[drwholvr]

Holy Shit...

It's 5:00 am. I just checked the mail.

I got into the Stella Adler Studio of Acting...

That's in New York City btw...

uh. 

What?

Umm..

What do I do? 

Freaking out.

What just happened......