He had come to visit Riku.
Daisuke, in his mind, had protested vehemently; somehow Dark had bled his feelings into his tamer, and the warm, shy love that flooded Daisuke was both adorable and irritating to see, for the sole reason that the boy was so young and didn't understand anything at all. He didn't understand that Riku should belong to Dark, didn't understand - how had he failed to understand? - that Dark loved her. She was not an object.
But what he didn't realize was that Daisuke bled some feelings back.
As they approached the Harada household, it occured to Dark (and Daisuke, by proxy) that there was a sound hanging in the air that was dreadfully out of place. A soft gasping. Creeping closer, listening further, he identified it not as a lethal death rattle or the lustful sound of another kind of death, but a sorrowful weeping.
Who's m -
"Quiet, Daisuke." He whispered, his eyes scanning the house and in sync with his ears. "There." He said when he spotted the sliding glass door, just slightly cracked, from whence the sound poured into the night. "It's Risa."
Though he said it dismissively, he moved closer, almost completely abandoning the thought of Riku. He touched down on Risa's balcony and moved closer, watching.
The girl was kneeling on the floor as if in prayer, though her palms were pressed down flat into the carpet by her side, the upper half of her body leaning forward just slightly from the waist. He could see her thighs quivering with the stress of the position. She was taut. She was a livewire. Why was she crying?
He pulled back the sliding door, certain she would turn her head. She did not.
Daisuke was uncharacteristically quiet in his mind.
Dark stepped forward and knelt behind Risa, his arms circling around her waist. Now, she looked; a startled whimper escaped her throat; blood and heat exploded in her cheeks, embarrassment. "Dark..." She muttered, relieving the stress on her body as she turned to face him. Her eyes burned with sadness. Sorrow became her. Yet all he wanted to do was wipe it from her heart.
"Why are you crying?" He asked.
She sniffled, and didn't answer for a moment, but then: "Because I'm not perfect. I'm not who they think I am, not all the time. Can't I have this, Dark?" A sob broke out of her. "Aren't I allowed to cry just like everyone else?"
Stunned, Dark pulled her soft body close to his. The illusion was gone, her walls leveled, and he saw her. She was real, deep. She was beautiful beyond superficiality.
He saw that the tables were flipping, turning chaotically.
He kissed Risa. It wasn't their first kiss, but it felt as if it were. Now, he held her, and she was not a substitute for Riku, who all in all was a substitute for Rika to begin with, wasn't she? Risa was not the carbon copy of the carbon copy anymore. No, not in his mind.
Daisuke fell for Riku. And it seemed that this reversal came both ways.
Dark helped Risa to her feet, enclosing her small hand in her. "Come on, Risa. Let's get out of here." He smiled her. "Let's fly away."