Once upon a time, when they were new--and that was very long ago--and they had only begun to walk the earth, the two halves thought themselves invincible. They were immortal, powerful, capable. They could bring the world to its knees if they had wished it so.
They are wiser now, and they realize that was all a pretty child's illusion.
(Of course.)
-
Krad is his rock. Centuries wash over the pair of them like waves on the shore, and they simply are grains of sand that cannot shift. Cannot be shifted.
The two halves are far older than any glance could ever reveal. Shackled to the ground even as they fight high in the night skies.
Each time he opens his eyes again, people, ideas, technology...are new, different, a whole new world to examine, to familiarize, and then be wrenched from. And it is a cycle he has moved through what feels like a thousand times.
But Krad never changes. And it is comforting that there is something he can latch onto, somebody who remembers the same things he does, and who knows what half-existence is like. Between Niwas, his periods in the Abyss are foggy and distorted in memory, like a dream. In the Abyss, every physical law bends. You can be here, and there, and it doesn't matter because here and there are exactly the same, anyway. You have no form, and time evaporates. A second might be a decade; a year might be a minute. And as a consequence, he can never remember exactly what happens, but he is fairly certain he remembers talking. Him and Krad, conversation, like cool water on an unbearably long, hot day. There's no point trying to kill Krad in a place where you have no form, so it's not completely unbelievable.
Because, after being his enemy, after being his other half, after being all that he is, Krad remembers. He remembers that they have but one purpose, and it is not theirs. They will never carve out their own, for they merely art, and art is at best a forgery at humanity. As long as Krad remembers, it is alright that Dark does too. The burden of remembering would break the brittle pieces of him if he had to do it alone.
The world will fade and replenish time and time again, unforgiving, unyielding. It leaves them behind even as it drags them along.
He knows all things end, even art. He knows even they will end. He does not know when, but he is predicts that he will be the one to do it. Krad's stubbornness and pride would keep them moving another century. He refuses to give in, no matter how badly he longs it. Even as he shrieks and struggles, Dark knows a part of Krad will be relieved to finally rest.
Dark also knows that he refuses to go through another host. Niwa Daisuke has come closer than any of his predecessors to knowing him, to befriending him. He will shatter if he must leave him. But what will be worse, he thinks, is seeing Daisuke again: older, wiser, with a family. Seeing him change, age, when Dark cannot. He longs to change, to shift as humans can. Because he is a kaitou, because he is art given life, he will never be anything more than that. He cannot grow, he cannot change. He cannot be anybody's friend, father, lover, son. No title but kaitou.
Krad is as limited as Dark, and that is why they fit so well together. That is why Krad is his rock.
Krad cannot grow or change, either. Perhaps that is why he is what he is.
He will never be alone if there is Krad, and there will always be Krad as long as there is Dark.
At least they will never remember alone.