I do not own. Based off the 8th volume of the manga. (Note that I prefer to translate it myself instead of letting a company do it for me. The dialog between your version and mine may differ slightly).
"Time has frozen," he spoke slowly, having summoned up the art with borrowed power. He studied it carefully, searching for any response within the carving. "I can't sense the presence of the Toki no Byoushin. Does this mean it really relocated to Niwa's painting?"
Satoshi didn't want to believe such a powerful artwork was so desperate, but maybe it really was dieing out on its own. What could have possibly driven it to do so? Why would it abandon its purpose and prolong its suffering? "The Toki no Byoushin, also called the Toki no Bannin, can control time, but not make more."
He knew why. It believed. It trusted the painting and its creator. So foolish.
He ran his hand reverently down the translucent crystal. This was what the Hikari line was good for: creating something infinitely beautiful and destructive, something they could love, something everyone could love, something that craved, desired, and lived off of that love. It was something they knew they needed to destroy, and all they did was make it sleep, hoping the next generation would be stronger and more apathetic. The sole duty of the next member of the line was to destroy the evil wrought from love. The only thing the next Hikari had always wanted to do was create something that could be cherished, and through that art, be adored.
That was the true curse of the Hikari.
It had nothing to do with Krad or Dark or the Niwas. The Hikari wanted to make something so beautiful–so breathtaking that they would be admired until the world ended and humanity faded away. The Hikari wanted to be loved.
It was when the Hikari infused life into the art to make it more beautiful, and said art coveted and lusted for more affection than people were capable of giving that it became an issue, then a problem, then something so catastrophic it had to be extinguished from even the memories of someone who had vaguely heard of it.
The Hikari knew they had to kill it, and they knew they never could.
Thus, the art would be hidden, locked away, or displayed so that Dark could steal it–no matter how much they wanted to keep it–and seal it or lock it away to a place where it could never draw power from love ever again.
The reason the Hikari hated the Niwa, the reason they could never destroy them, the reason Dark stole the art was all the same.
He turned away from the troublesome carving, wishing that the Niwa had never found it. It would have withered on its own. It would have been completely dead in another month or so. "Niwa, you–you can't save her."
Yeah, it's short, but I liked it.