Can't Fool Me [Diabolik Lovers]

Chapter 1

“What the fuck.”

Silver orbs widened at the sight before her. In front of her were large opened metal gates, but what was contained behind them. A large mansion stood behind with long white framed glass windows and dusty yellow bricks. A circular cement colored fountain was set right in the middle with a gargoyle like bird resting right in the middle like a guardian. Everything about the house was rustic yet magical looking. A home every girl would have dreamed of living.

Yang was about to ask the taxi driver if this was the right address but when she turned around the cab had taken off. She then pulled out a wrinkled green note that was once a crisp post-it note. She checked the address of the house and the address written on the crumpled paper in neat cursive writing. Strangely the address was correct.

Her widened eyes lowered and became their usual half-lidded form. Gripping the strap of her black bass cover with one hand, she used her other to drag along her median size suit case; stuffed to the brim with her everyday clothes, undergarments, music sheets, pens, laptop and books.

The wheels of her luggage made a cracking sound as she proceeded to lug it across the graveled ground. It was silent with the exception of her suitcase and the water sprouted from the fountain. This was very different setting from the life she had before.

She felt wetness on her cheek and another on her forehead. Tilting her head up to the sky more droplets of water rained down on her. She picked up her pace to the front door. Usually she didn’t mind standing out in the rain, but she couldn’t afford for her precious Ibanez to get wet.

Tugging her luggage up the front steps; Yang shook the droplets from her hair, spraying water everywhere. Her eyes stared up at the large maroon wooden doors decorated with carvings on the side. This was definitely different than what she was used to. Dropping her suitcase; she raised a fist and knocked softly on the door.

In response she heard a loud rumbling on the other side of the wood. Raising an eyebrow she knocked again but this time calling out with a low, “Hello?”

The rumbling stopped and it was quiet again. Yang took a step back and waited.

Nothing happened.

She reached out again to knock but before her knuckle had even brushed against the wood; the door opened ajar. She blinked, peering at the door closely. “… Magic,” she spoke in a low mono-toned voice pushing the door open with one finger.

She stepped inside and the door slowly shut itself with a small click. She pushed her suspicions aside and called out, “Hello? Is there anybody here?”

Again, no response.

She gazed around trying to get a bearing of her surroundings. She stood in a short hallway with white pillars lined up on each side and a red carpet that led up to a set of stairs at the end of the room. Her red converse treaded softly on the soft carpet and she stopped in the middle of the large room under a large glass chandelier. She glanced up for a brief moment and sighed softly. “I hope that doesn’t fall on me,” she muttered softly. “Hello is anyone here? Ciao? Hola? Wèi?” she called.

She gazed around. From the corner of her eye she spotted a body in one of the other rooms. She left her suitcase on the side and propped her base bag beside it. She then sauntered toward the body hoping to get some sort of explanation as to why she was sent here.

Judging by the appearance it was a boy. A poorly dressed boy.

He was sprawled on a green sofa. She studied his appearance. He had light rusty colored locks that seemed to be a lighter color at the tips. He wore a school uniform but one sleeve of his pants was folded up to his knees, his blazer and white dress shirt was unbuttoned revealing his pale skin underneath and his red tie was tied around his neck as if it were some sort of choker.

He is either trying to be a punk goth or he just doesn’t know how to put his clothes on properly, Yang concluded. “Hey,” she spoke softly.

He didn’t wake.

"Hey are you alive?” she reached over and gently shook his shoulder.

Still nothing.

She knelt down beside him and placed her ear near his heart, closing her eyes trying to hear a heartbeat. “That’s weird. His heart isn’t beating,” she muttered leaning back. “He really must be dead.” She dug her hand into her hoodie’s pocket and pulled out her Samsung Galaxy III, one of her prized possessions since she had earned it through babysitting and tutoring after her old one got stolen. “I should probably call the police,” she sighed sliding her thumb across the cool screen to unlock it.

But before she could dial anything; it was snatched away from her hands. “Damn you are noisy,” a male voice grumbled. She looked up and saw the boy slowly sit up from his seat, his hand still gripping her phone. Her silver orbs caught vibrant shade of light green ones. His eyes glared at her slightly, “This is not your house, so shut up,” he growled.

“Eh, so you are alive after all,” Yang spoke mono-tonelessly. “If you don’t mind, would you stop putting your finger prints all over the screen of my phone?” she asked standing up straight.

He ignored her question. “Of course I am alive,” he replied snippily. “What do you think I am?” he didn’t bother to face her.

“A boy,” she responded just as snarky. “Plus your heart wasn’t beating earlier,” she added.

He spared her a glance before wrapping his arms around her waist and throwing her onto the sofa. Her gaped open, caught off guard and her eyes widened when he proceeded to crawl on top of her. “Hey what are you doing?” she asked angrily finding her voice.

A cocky smirk spread across his lips and his eyes narrowed down at her laying form. “I think you already know the answer to that. I am going to take you,” he leaned down and she felt something moist on her neck.

Her eyes widened and her annoyance pushed away her fear. Wrenching a free hand, she shoved his face away from her neck. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” she growled attempting to sit up under his hovering form. “That is so gross man! Have you ever heard of germs or personal space?!”

He only grinned maliciously in response.

He shoved her down onto the sofa again, this time leaning into her neck; she felt his hot breath against her skin and she began to struggle under his weight. “Ayato, what’s with all this commotion?” a voice called out much to Yang’s relief and the boy’s annoyance.

“Tsk,” he clicked his tongue in irritation but reluctantly got off of her. “Damn you Reiji,” he muttered under his breath. Yang immediately shot up, cleaning her neck from any slobber left with her hoodie sleeve.

She saw another man walk in wearing a similar uniform as to what the Ayato boy had been wearing, except more properly. The man had thick black hair like her own, but his hand tints of purple shades in them. Behind his rectangular wire framed glasses were slanted unusual red colored orbs. “This is the entrance hall,” he spoke firmly holding himself at a high composure. “This is meant to be a place to greet our guests,” he explained to him. “Take your activities to your private room.”

Ayato sighed deeply. “You took all the fun away from that Reiji.”

Yang quickly stood up, straightening herself out. “Hello. My name is Yang and I was sent here from America by my father’s will,” she explained bowing slightly in greeting, learning that in the Japanese culture people greeted each other like this, on her flight over.

“Yang?” he gave her a perplexed look. “I have heard nothing of the sort,” he stated.

“What?”