DNAngel isn't mine.


She doesn't remember who she laid with to concieve him - a suitable man, no doubt, everything must be suitable. It was only one night. He was kind to her, though. She could have loved him.

She was not sad when he left. Better that he leave than be destroyed.

She went to the doctor two weeks later, asked for a test. Ms Hikari, said the doctor, solemnly, do you have a husband?

No, she said.

Do you ... there's a procedure.

No, she said. I won't have it done.

It will be very hard for you, said the doctor, helpful and kind. You still have a while.

No, she said. I'm going to keep it. Is there a diet I should be following?

The doctor, still kind, puzzled, gave her the information she needed. She thanked him quietly and left.

The doctor watched her go. Something wrong? said the nurse.

No, he said. Funny, I see girls like her all the time and usually they're hysterical with joy or panic. She's just ... quiet. It's strange.

Maybe she's going to the river, suggested the nurse, a woman who had seen a lot of girls come into the office and ask for a test.

No, said the doctor. I don't think she is.


He was a good baby, a quiet baby, even before he was born. She followed the doctor's instructions carefully, went to her appointments, did everything she was supposed to do. Once, waiting for an ultrasound, she saw a young woman with red hair come in with her husband, excited and radiating sharp painful hope. She watched them go into the office and come out.

The baby within her did not jump to acknowlege the other's presence.

She didn't even have morning sickness like she expected, only a little nausea. Doesn't want to give mummy any trouble, said the doctor, cheerfully.

She nodded.


Labor was harder than she expected. It hurt like the one time she had dared try to create something, like she was being ripped apart and she didn't want this she didn't want this she wanted her baby she wanted her baby to be born and never be faced with the destiny she cursed him to. She wanted her baby she wanted to jump into the sea with him so he would never be hurt why hadn't she drowned herself when she knew? She wanted the best for her baby. Her baby her baby her baby, she thought, and strained one more time.

He cried, one short sharp wail against his fate.

Babies are works of art, said the doctor, placing him on her belly. His eyes were wide and unfocused, except for the one moment when they were golden and cat-pupiled, focused on her with malice.

I have created art, she thought. I am damned.


He was the most beautiful thing in the world. Perfect in every way, she thought. With little hands and little feet, curling tightly against her fingers. His eyes were blue like the sea and she kissed his forehead and talked to him softly. I have to leave soon, she told him, but I love you. You won't remember that I love you but I do. I have to lock it away but I'm telling you now so it can be hidden in your heart. Satoshi, she crooned, Satoshi Satoshi Satoshi, my beautiful Satoshi, what a lovely thing.

She was only frightened of him when his eyes turned gold and even then she tried to hide it. It wasn't his fault, it was the mutatation in his DNA that she'd given to him. We pass on the tendency, her mother had told her. He comes to them. We are the ones who open the door for Him.

Forgive me, forgive him, forgive all of us, she whispered against his head as he slept in her arms, a little warm bundle. Live and be happy. Don't let go. Don't love, don't hate. Love as hard as you can, don't let Him win.

Oh, my child, what have I done to you?