Balance

Chapter Four: Night of Revelations

"Myths which are believed in tend to become true."

—George Orwell

Two dusty eyes watched from afar, arms tucked at their owner's sides, a cap pulled down over his face. He shifted, watching a couple sitting on a bench, their eyes suddenly darting in various places. The eyes flickered and the man giggled softly, covering his mouth as he did so, the satin gloves he wore brushing against his lips. Tugging the cap down further he vanished behind a tree. "Ah, so they can sense Saffron. He is quite dreadful at hiding." He giggled again, and slipped away to watch the scene unfold.

Daisuke's eyes moved to gaze at the far end of the park where he was sure he had seen some kind of rustling of the bushes, or the quick billowing of a cloak in the wind. When he turned to inform Satoshi, he found himself alone. As he began to panic, he heard another noise and turned, squinting his eyes at a nearby tree.

'Daisuke...' Instead of hearing the warning, the young one slowly slipped off the bench and curiously made his way over to the tree, his brow furrowing as the rustling sound increased. When he finally stopped at the edge of the trunk, the disturbance ceased, the whole park suddenly becoming very silent. Again, Dark slowly tried to pull him away, 'I've got a bad feeling about this, Dai. Hey! Are you listening?'

The small redhead was far from listening as he soon found himself gazing into two bright eyes that seemed to shift colors when the light changed—first the irises were a deep violet, then soft scarlet, flashing to gold, and finally lingeringon a glassy blue. Daisuke quickly jumped back when the tree shook again, and in trying to scramble away he tripped, landing on the ground just as a figure dropped from the tree.

The figure, a male, looked very familiar, yet Daisuke couldn't exactly place it. When he spoke, his cool voice made the Niwa stiffen. "So you are the new Wing Master. You look quite pathetic, sitting there like an imbecile." He stepped forward, and Daisuke scurried back, trying to getaway from those glassy eyes that seemed just like...ice.

"Niwa-kun!" His head whipped up to see Satoshi, looking absolutely perplexed and running towards him. The unknown man hissed in distaste, striding over to Daisuke and grabbing him by the wrist, pulling him close to his chest until the boy was whimpering very quietly. Satoshi stopped, breathing harshly as he watched the man hold Daisuke closer, a threat glittering within his eyes as he spoke slowly, "I've been assigned to kill you...both."

"I'm surprised," muttered Satoshi, "To see actually see you've been released. What was the name...Saffron, wasn't it?" His foot scooted forward slightly, his fingers suddenly tightening. "You think you're smart," he continued, a small smirk suddenly showing on his face, "Trying to empty the whole place just so you can play your little games." Daisuke's eyes darted back and forth between the two when he finally noticed—they nearly looked identical. He was sure he'd seen this person (or thing) before, yet he couldn't place the time. Was it...

Saffron, or so he was called, scoffed, "Ah, to think the Hikari's have come down to you swine, protecting Niwa's!" His grip tightened, and Daisuke winced at the pressure suddenly applied to his arms. "I stand here, and you, descendant, dare to defy me."

His eyes narrowed, glaring at the very flustered Satoshi before the other Hikari suddenly burst. "Ancestor, artwork, whatever you may be—I have no reason to respect you. Now let him go. Let the Niwa go." Instead, this only further induced the artwork that resembled Satoshi in every aspect to tighten his grasp. He would have spoken but suddenly, his eyes widened, his grip loosened, and he fell to the ground. Daisuke yelped as he was being pulled down with the man and Satoshi rushed over, prying the young redhead from the his grasp.

"H-Hiwatari-kun, what—" Before he could finish, both watched with wide eyes as the figure before them suddenly vanished as if he was nothing more then fog. Daisuke began to panic, backing further into Satoshi's form before the artwork was gone. After a long moment, Satoshi reached down to pick up the strange gray feather left behind in the disappearance.He observed it carefully as his eyes thinned, a strange golden tint engulfing them for a moment. In a rush, he grabbed Daisuke's wrist, running out of the park, whispering a name the other boy couldn't hear. Before they left, the young Hikari gave one last glance around the spot they had just abandoned, catching a glimpse of something that looked like it could have been a trick of the light...Or perhaps, it was just a shadow.

The figure from before slipped out from his hiding place, twirling a feather between his fingers. He looked to where the drama had played out—the ever 'powerful' Saffron struck down, vanished, and then the two greater beings scurrying off. He laughed once more, tucking away the feather within the cloak he wore, pulling his hat down further as he too made his way from the park. Before he suddenly vanished again, he cooed, "You see, Saffron, do not try to defy me—Or touch my Wing Master. What a pity it will be killing him."

IIiiII

Satoshi had flung the door closed once they arrived back at the apartment, locking it anyway he could though he knew no barrier could protect the two from what could have taken their lives in the park. Daisuke stayed silent as this went on, and Dark convinced him to sit down on the sofa and wait for the 'creepy bastard' to calm down and explain everything. Apparently this worked, as soon the cushions dipped slightly once he sat down next to Daisuke, his hands running through his hair. "Do you understand now, Niwa?" he asked softly, his breath suddenly hitching.

"N-No, Hiwatari-kun...I'm sorry, but I don't." Fingers played with his clothes as he awaited an answer. Within just a few seconds, he could feel Satoshi staring at him, eyes boring a path down his skin and then making their way back up to his face.

"You don't?" A harsh laugh. "You're a Niwa, the Wing Master and now that the Tsubasa No Kumori has been released, every surviving artwork will be after your skin and blood."

Daisuke pulled himself up, the tightening in his chest suddenly intensifying until it felt as though strings were slicing through his heart. "Surviving...artwork?" he choked out. Satoshi only nodded, his hands reaching calmlyover the blanket to the side of him on the arm of the couch.

"Yes. All the artworks that you—well, Dark, has stolen have a spirit within them. The Hikari were known for giving all that they had into their work. You've heard the expression, 'Putting your heart and soul' into something haven't you?" He looked over and received a quick nod from Daisuke, silently encouraging him to continue. "That is exactly and almost literally what the Hikari accomplished. They placed all of their love into their work, let their emotions enter into it, until finally the artwork truly had a soul of its own."

Daisuke decided to remain silent, and Dark had agreed with him. The redhead watched Satoshi lean back on the couch and reach to adjust his glasses, only to remember he had lost them last night at the museum. Reluctantly, he let his hand rest back down as he continued. "However, when Mousy decides to steal them," Daisuke flinched at the ice that entered his voice, "Those spirits are disturbed, and they become bitter...So much so that most of the time—they die." Daisuke's eyes widened at the aspect of anything actually dying by Dark's hand.

"They drown in their misery and they die, and that is only part of the reason why the Hikari's have despised the Niwa's—they've always killed our art." Satoshi suddenly pulled himself from his seat and muttered that he was going to go do some work. Daisuke sat alone on the couch until Dark phased into view to watch his Tamer let tears bubble up and slide down his cheeks.

Frowning, Dark tried to comfort his host. 'Dai, don't pay attention to creepy bastard, he's just—'

"Why didn't you tell me," he cried, nearly going into a hysteria. "You mean all this time we've been killing! Killing all of them...I've killed them!" He nearly sobbed. The words from the artwork suddenly rang through his head. He killed them, Hikari-san. He killed them all... "Tell me Dark," he ordered, his tone suddenly biting, "Tell me everything."

The angel was taken aback, looking at the young one with admiration, or surprise, or something in between. Yet his expression softened and he sighed, looking down in mock defeat. 'Alright, Daisuke. I'll tell you...What you need to know.'

Satoshi sat in his room, striking the keyboard sharply, eyes searching along the monitor for something. Groaning, he leaned back and ran a hand through his hair, only to resume his search. When the image of a certain painting flashed before his eyes he bit his lip, clicking on the picture only to have several documents spread out before him on the computer screen.

'You should know the basic history of the Hikari and Niwa's.' Dark leaned forward, scratching the back of his neck and sighing deeply as he continued. 'I've been passed down, stolen from them, and Krad is always the one to try and stop me.'

Daisuke nervously glanced at Satoshi's door and whispered, "But why? Where did you two come from? I know, the Black Wings, but..."

'That's not important right now! Now stop interrupting, will you?' With a huff, Dark crossed his arms impatiently and waited for his host to nod solemnly, waiting for the rest of the explanation. 'Alright then. Now, it's true what that creepy bastard said. The Hikari have always sealed part of their souls into their work. Why do you think they're so cold hearted?'

The soft shrug was a careful reply, and there was a moment of silence as Daisuke considered the possibility. Obviously, the amethyst-haired angel wanted to continue, and cleared his throat. 'Most of the time, that soul melds with the artwork until it has a life of its own. Maybe the subject of the art comes alive, or the theme of the work. You remember when we first found Towa? The statue itself was of a bird, but she took her own form—that of a young woman.'

"You mean that," Daisuke whispered, "An artwork can create its own form? Its own body?"

The transparent form of Dark nodded, twisting his fingers together as he glanced down at the white carpet thoughtfully. 'If it has a Hikari soul, yes. You've seen the Tsubasa No Kumori, right? He has his own body, doesn't he? Do you remember what the painting looked like, before he was able to escape it?' At this, the seraph let his eyes raise only slightly to watch his host. Locks of deep violet strayed in front of his eyes.

The young redhead closed his eyes in deep thought, trying to recall the previous night. It was just like any other robbery, and Dark had snuck inside the museum with a smirk on his face as he reached out to snatch the painting. Only something had gone terribly wrong, and Satoshi had been too late in shoving aside the thief before the painting exploded in a strange light. The canvas was empty, clattering to the floor, but above it was the form of a true Hikari artwork.

Again, Daisuke strained to remember, finally asking, "But...Wasn't it just a painting of a town?"

'But what was special about it? What did you say when we saw it?' Dark was nibbling on the bottom of his lip, a strange habit for a usually suave Phantom Thief.

"I said..." He blinked, a sudden realization hitting him, "I said that the shadows were scary. There were shadows everywhere—the water in the canal, the bridge, the streets, even the sky looked like it had a shadow."

At this, Dark suddenly relaxed, a hand running through his mess of violet strands as he nodded carefully. 'Exactly, Daisuke. And the rough translation of Tsubasa No Kumori?'

"Wing...of Shadows?"

'Or, Shadow Wings. Just as Krad calls me Black Wings. You making the connection yet, Dai-chan? That doesn't really answer you rquestion though,' Dark remarked, waving his hand around before pressing his lips together firmly, and continuing. 'To cut a long story short, any Hikari artwork that survives and remains in its 'form' is a threat to the Niwa's.

'They're hard to destroy, because they shift between this realm and another. Remember when you saved me from the mirror world? The world they inhabit is almost similar to that one—one of the few surviving different dimensions.' Leaning back, Dark stretched his arms and frowned when he noticed the puzzled look on his tamer's face.

"How many...surviving artworks are there?" Daisuke was nervously fiddling with a bandage on his arm as he waited for the answer. The fingers on the white wrap were trembling.

'That's something I'm not even sure of. We're missing one less artwork, though. The one in the park, Saffron? He was the spirit of the old jewel we stole a while ago. I'm still confused with how he ended up dying, though.'

The thief glanced thoughtfully out the window for a long moment, before turning back to redhead and giving him a curious gaze. He glanced towards Satoshi's room as Daisuke pulled a thin gray feather from his pocket. "What about this? There were a few of them left behind. It was there when the artwork vanished." Carefully, he held it up to the dim light in the room and attempted to catch Dark's attention.

The two stared at it for a long time before Dark took one of his own feathers and held it up to the other. From his pocket, he retrieved a pallid third one (Krad's, no doubt) and also compared it. All three feathers seemed to belong together, in some kind of flow. It was Dark who spoke first, looking horror-struck, as he whispered, 'Tsubasa No Kumori! Negrido!'

The young redhead panicked, suddenly feeling a searing pain at the back of his mind. "D-Dark! What's—"

"Niwa-kun, I..." Satoshi blinked several times, staring at the gray feather held tightly between Daisuke's fingertips. The redhead tensed, tucking the item back into his pants as he stood and turned to face the young boy standing at the door. The silence that followed was ominous and intimidating until the young artist turned on his heel, walking back into his room and asking Daisuke to follow.

Satoshi pulled his chair out, slouching back down in it as he scrolled over a website on his computer, then waited while several pages printed. Daisuke caught sight of strange inscriptions on the papers before Satoshi startled him from his thoughts. "I thought you might want to see this," he muttered, enlarging a photo on the screen. He pointed to a recent photograph of the Tsubasa No Kumori, and noticed the sudden fear that it incited in the Niwa's eyes. The recognition and the memories of the previous night flowed back to him in a torrent.

"That's..."

"Correct." Satoshi pointed to several of the shadows, his fingers playing along the outlines as his skin ran over the warm monitor. "At least, what the painting looked like before the spirit escaped." Satoshi clicked several more messages, pulling up another image. It was actually a drawing - an artist's rendering of the painting shown seconds before, and was dated years ago. "This is the same painting, except it was illustrated by another artist, hanging there on a wall. At the time, there were no cameras. Or is it really the same, Niwa-kun?"

Confused, Daisuke leaned forward, resting his hand next to Satoshi's as the strands of crimson brushed against his friend's cheeks, their faces close together while looking at the picture in close observation. Daisuke furrowed his brow. "Hiwatari-kun, it is the same painting, there's..."

Suddenly, his voice died as he noticed the differences in the shadows. Amber eyes began to swell with confusion and horror as he began to absorb the more grotesque shadows. Shadows in the water were made of screaming women, swords plunged into their hearts. On the streets were the shadows of devilish birds with sharp wings, as if the creature flew just above the small city. The moon was being engulfed by darkness, probably an eclipse.

"What's...that?" Daisuke let his finger wander up, pointing to a figure on a bridge above the canal filled with water. Satoshi's eyes followed and he nodded solemnly. "It appears to be someone in a cloak, doesn't it?" he replied, his finger tracing downwards, as he went on. "But look at the shadow in the water."

"A skeleton." Daisuke squinted his eyes, scratching the back of his neck with an irritated sigh. "How do you know it's the same painting? They seem so different..."

"That's it," Satoshi muttered, "They're not the same painting..." He reached over, picking up the printed pictures of the paintings. "Last night, the Tsubasa No Kumori was stolen, was it not?" Satoshi put a small star next to the photograph of the painting Dark had attempted to steal. He then put a careless circle around the drawing of the piece of work, the darker one with morbid shadows. "But this was what Dark should have stolen. The real Tsubasa No Kumori. Did you notice when Mousy stole the painting, that it looked fairly recent? Tsubasa no Kumori was painted a long time ago, made by one of my ancestors—didn't you wonder why the paint looked pretty fresh, and the colors hadn't faded?"

He received a quick nod from the other, Daisuke chewing roughly on his bottom lip as his eyes darted between the two paintings which should have looked the same, as they were both supposed to be the same. His hand brushed against the one he'd seen the night before. "So what are you saying, Hiwatari-kun?"

Satoshi leaned back, removed his glasses and pressed them to his lips before tucking them away. He let his cursor run over several links before clicking on one with a recognized title. "I'm saying that the Tsubasa No Kumori was destroyed years ago, along with others during The Cultural Reformation. The painting you stole last night had to be some type of fake. So, the question is..." He groaned, running his hands down his face. "What is its spirit doing here now?"

Author's Note: So sorry for the very very (three months?) late update! An important note: the last chapter, Night of Healing has been corrected, there's nothing very signifcant that I changed, but some things to point out that my beta reader did:

1) When Satoshi mentions his 'American History Teacher' he's really just talking about his History teacher, which I changed. Japan students don't have US History Teachers.

2) The meanings of a few of the artworks are intentionally supposed to be unknown.

3) Satoshi-sama is a term used by Krad. Usually, it means someone older or of higher status. Since Krad views Satoshi as 'his' and a great Hikari, he refers to him as "Satoshi-sama" which also indicates Krad has strong feelings for Satoshi.

4) Daisuke is very sore, let's say. Dark's very franctic with trying to heal Daisuke (after they both woke up), and his injury was horrible-but remember, Krad also helped heal him. So yes, he's very sore, and his wounds can easily open back up again if he's not careful. As for how Krad healed him, healen is an Old English word meaning "healing", and (I gave) Krad the ability to use something called "healing lines" or "Astral threads" (mentioned in another story). They're like stitches, but since Krad is an ethreal being, these "stitches" have healing powers.

5) This new unnamed character (also known as Tsubasa No Kumori), is very feminine. That's why he "giggled" in the last chapter. He giggles in a sadistic way. He's a lot like Krad, so you know.

I'm very sorry for this long author note, but I wanted to clear some things up! I hope to see you in the next chapter! The delay might be due to the new fanfiction I'm doing. ;/

Also, I bet you're all wondering: When are they going to really move in with each other! Keep in mind, it's only been one day since all this happen. The first chapter took place last night, this chapter took place current day (morning), and ended in the afternoon. They're already (kind of) moved in with each other - things will calm down a bit soon - and then they'll just spark back up. Reviews are very much welcomed in my time of dead muse! -sob-

- peachie