Author's Notes: Another chapter, up for your viewing pleasure. Mostly a continuation of the twenty years' flashback, but this one will skip forward between scenes much more than in chapter two, as it will contain most of the flashback (but not all). Whoo boy, this is quite a long one, hope you'll forgive me! Many thanks go out to you reviewers!
On a side note, WARNING: This chapter will contain more parallel scenes than two lines with the same slope and different y-intercepts.
Umm, just ignore that. Really, it was a random attack of math.
Harada Risa set her mouth into a determined frown, drew in a final deep breath in a futile effort to calm her nerves, closed her eyes, and raised a single fist to knock on the door. But—why? Why was she so nervous? This was just Niwa-kun! She was standing in front of Niwa-kun's house, one of her closest friends, a second-year in high school, just like herself. She'd known him for years!
So…why was she so nervous right now? No, it wasn't because it was Niwa-kun really. She'd be this nervous before anyone…with the agenda she had in mind. As if from far away she directed her hand to rap sharply on the oaken front door as she stood on the stoop, letting the cool October breeze play through her hair. Inside she could hear light footsteps padding towards the door, and if she made an effort, she could even visualize Niwa-kun in sock-feet making his way to let their visitor in, pondering who might be behind the door.
"…Harada-san?" he spoke softly as he pulled open the door, and she smiled warmly at him. He casually cast his eyes to either side of her, as if automatically searching out her sister, only to realize she was very much alone today. "What brings you over this way?" Opening the door a bit wider, he beckoned her inside towards the living room.
Halfway down the main entry-hall, though, she stopped suddenly and turned to face Daisuke, who was walking behind her, catching him slightly off guard. "…eh, Ha—Harada-san?"
"Niwa-kun…" She leaned in closer, and the years that had passed since he'd given up his crush on the younger twin could not prevent the slight pink tinge that crept across the bridge of his nose and over his cheeks. "…Can we talk?" Her brows were slightly furrowed, and her air of seriousness quickly dispelled any embarrassed feelings Daisuke may have had as to their position.
Straightening up, he cleared his throat slightly, and she pulled back to give him room. "You just want…to talk?" She nodded firmly. "Well, my mom and dad are out at the movies right now…and Jii-chan is at the market with Towa-chan…so I guess we could talk in the living room." Another nod, and she followed him the remaining few feet into the den, where they took seats on the perpendicular couches.
It was obvious Risa would be the one to start the conversation, so Daisuke simply sat back and settled in, waiting for her to gather her thoughts. After a moment, she opened her mouth slowly and spoke in a very small voice.
"Niwa-kun…could you tell me everything you know…about the white Dark-san?"
Harada Riku set her mouth into a determined frown, drew in a final deep breath in a futile effort to calm her nerves, closed her eyes, and raised a single finger to push the announcing button. But—why? Why was she so nervous? This was just Hiwatari-kun! She was standing on the front stoop of Hiwatari-kun's apartment complex, one of her closest friends, a second-year in high school, just like herself. She'd known him for years!
So…why was she so nervous right now? No, it wasn't because it was Hiwatari-kun really. She'd be this nervous before anyone…with the agenda she had in mind. As if from far away she directed her finger to brush over the button beside his name as she stood on the stoop, letting the cool October breeze play through her hair. During the pause before he answered, she could even visualize Hiwatari-kun in sock-feet making his way to the window to peer out, pondering who might be summoning him.
"…Harada?" he called down as he leaned over the sill, and she smiled warmly up at him. He casually cast his eyes to either side of her, as if automatically searching out her sister, only to realize she was very much alone today. "What brings you over this way?" Not waiting for her reply, he hurried down the stairs and let her in, beckoning her up to his own room.
As they passed over the threshold of his apartment, he turned back to look at her, and she suddenly stopped, bringing her eyes up to his. "Hiwatari-kun…"
"Hn?"
"…Can we talk?" He straightened up and peered at her strangely, as if searching out her true motives, but could find no ulterior plot evident in her features.
Cocking his head, he queried, "You just want…to talk?" She nodded slowly, and he turned back forward and began to walk again, leading her further into the dwelling. "Fine—how's the living room?" Across the central coffee table were spread books of varying shapes and sizes, with mountains of paperwork on either side, peppered with multi-colored highlighted sections. "Hope you don't mind the mess—Sociology is not treating me kindly this semester."
She shook her head and waved him off, opting to take her seat on the loveseat while he sank into an armchair across from her, folding his hands over his lap patiently. It was obvious Riku would be the one to start the conversation, so Satoshi set his glasses gently down on the table and simply sat back and settled in, waiting for her to gather her thoughts. After a moment, she opened her mouth slowly and spoke in a very small voice.
"Hiwatari-kun…could tell me everything you know…about Dark?"
Daisuke shot straight up in his seat, no longer casually slumped backwards, with his head resting on the sofa cushions. He was most definitely caught off guard by Risa's sudden request, and his surprise was all too evident in his face, which had taken on a sickly ashen-gray hue, while his stomach was churning uncomfortably.
For nearly three years…he hadn't heard mention of that name for nearly three years. Why…why did Harada-san have to bring it up now—why would she want to know…?
At his obvious internal struggle for reasoning, Risa hastily made an effort to explain herself. "If—if you don't want to, you don't have to, Niwa-kun!" she forced out quickly, for the last thing she wanted to do was drag information from him which he felt she didn't need to hear, "I just…" Her voice sank back into the serious lull it had had when he met her at the door, "It was for Satoshi-kun…"
She looked up and met his confused gaze and smiled sadly. "I wanted to understand him better, see? Because…because right now you're all he has to talk to, and I can't stand to see him like that. All this time, it's always been you he turned to—I've always noticed it, even when you thought I didn't. And even now, he's different than he used to be, back in junior high. He's better now, happier, I think. But every now and then I look into his eyes, and I see the old Satoshi-kun looking back, and I…I can't understand why." With a pleading air, she continued, "What happened back then?"
Here she turned her eyes away, as if a bit embarrassed. "I know…it had something to do with the white Dark-san, because I know Satoshi-kun was the white Dark-san, and I thought…maybe…since, well…" A pause as she gathered her thoughts, and Daisuke leaned forward to catch her final words. "I thought…since Niwa-kun was Dark-san…you'd know why." The last statement was spoken in the tiniest of voices, and he couldn't help but realize how very meek and reserved she seemed at that point.
After a moment during which neither said anything, Daisuke spoke. "…You know, it's been almost three years…since someone mentioned him?" She looked up, a bit surprised, and he smiled, then nodded slowly, sighing, "Alright, Harada-san. I'll tell you, for Hiwatari-kun." Twisting around into a more comfortable position where he could face her properly, he sat up straighter and asked, "But first, tell me how much you do know, since apparently you're not completely in the dark, so to speak." Her face broke into a relieved smile and she fell into an explanation.
"I know that…Hiwatari isn't his real name, that it was Hikari—"
"Eh?" Daisuke interrupted momentarily, "But—how did you…?" Some things regarding Dark and Krad could be guessed, particularly the part about Satoshi being Krad, but the fact that Hiwatari wasn't his given name was certainly not something to be supposed.
"Satoshi-kun told me…on our first trip down to the Mid Winter Carnival." Daisuke turned away and contemplated this for a moment while she continued. "I know that he was the white Dark-san, because I saw him change, when Riku and I were looking…for you…but…"
"…But, what?"
She shook her head, confused. "It was like he wasn't the same Satoshi-kun when he looked like the white Dark-san—"
"Krad," he corrected gently, and she looked up, brows furrowed. "That was the white Dark's name: Krad."
Hesitantly she continued after processing the new information. "When he looked like the wh—like Krad…it was like he didn't even know us any more…like he didn't care about either me or Riku, whether we lived or died…" Her voice quavered slightly with worry.
"That's because," he spoke, voice softly reassuring, "He wasn't Hiwatari-kun anymore when he changed. Hiwatari-kun was Hiwatari-kun always; he and Krad were completely different beings, linked only in the respect that they shared a body. And—it was the same with me and Dark. You said you thought I could explain about Krad because I was Dark, but I'm not, you see? I never was; I was just…his host. I was me, Dark was Dark…but he's gone now…" Leaning forward, he rested his elbows comfortably on his knees and easily sank into the lecture his own mother had given him those years ago.
"For centuries the Niwa and Hikari families have been at odds with each other, eternal rivals. The Hikaris were great artists: painters, sculptors, writers—if it could be considered an art form, then the Hikaris had mastered it. But if they were great artists, then the Niwas were great thieves, and it seemed their sole reason for existing was to steal each and every last bit of Hikari artwork—but not just to steal it, to save it. The artworks had magic of their own, laced in their very frameworks, endowed by the Hikaris. But it was allowed to get out of hand, and so the Niwas took it upon themselves as their duty to take the artworks and exorcise the magic from them.
"Dark…Krad…they were magic made flesh, solid incarnations of the rivalry between the houses," he continued, hastily glazing over the story of the Koku-Yoku incident. "All those centuries ago, they were art given life by the Hikaris, and somehow inextricably tied to the family lines. Dark to the Niwas, Krad to the Hikaris, destined to fates of eternal bondage to a fourteen-year-old male."
"A fourteen-year-old…male?"
He nodded, then blushed a bit—from here on out it was going to get a bit more embarrassing. "Ano…you see, when a Niwa or Hikari male turns fourteen, see…" He scratched his chin in thought, a blush darkening over his pale cheeks, "Well…umm…" Smiling, he continued slowly, "Like, with me…do you remember…when I almost gave you…that letter…the day Dark showed up again…?" Throughout the entire last sentence, his voice began to drop softer and softer, until Risa had to lean forward and strain to catch the final words
"…I think so," she pondered, searching her memory for that day from years past. "There was a big commotion on the news about it, because he hadn't been seen for forty years…" She blinked stupidly at Daisuke, then tested, "…You're…you're not forty…are you, Niwa-kun?"
He laughed nervously and waved her off, "No—no! Of course not!" She released the nervous breath she'd been holding and blushed slightly. "…Rather…Dark only shows up when the host turns fourteen…but, you see…something has to…t-trigger him…" Again he slipped into a fit of mumbling.
"'Trigger'?" she repeated, and he nodded.
"E-eto…in the case of Dark…I had to be feeling…strong emotions regarding…l-love…" He could all but feel the steam starting to pour from his ears. Sure, he didn't like Harada-san that way anymore—Riku-san had long since replaced her as his "divine maiden", but that didn't make telling her something like this any easier! To admit that his crush on her had been so great at one point that it had triggered the emergence of a centuries old phantom thief…this was just not a topic for normal conversation.
"Oh," she noted matter-of-factly. He stared at her a moment, disbelieving how easily she was taking it, when it suddenly hit her—apparently she hadn't fully comprehended what he'd been hinting at. "…OH. But, you—mean—about me?!" He turned his eyes to the floor and nodded meekly, skin tone nearly perfectly matching his hair color until it seemed his whole head was one large spiky tomato. Risa continued, equally confused and embarrassed, "Then, every time Dark-san appeared, it was because you felt…?" Another nod. "O—oh…" Only a well-focused onlooker could have caught the nervous quaver in her voice, though, as she phrased her next question in an effort to steer clear of the topic of Dark. "And…what about Krad?"
"…So that's why you came, was it?" he spoke at length in his silvery tongue, a wry, almost-nostalgic, smile creeping over his lips. "Not just because I was the police commander in charge of capturing Dark…but because…of Krad."
"Kr—ad?"
Satoshi nodded solemnly and turned his eyes to the floor. Risa had told him some time back that she'd seen him change before—that she and Riku had seen it. But neither one of them really knew what Krad was. To those girls, he was simply—as Risa put it—"the white Dark-san".
"…That time, I remember, something…with you…with Harada, and a great tower…a painting…Dark, Niwa, Krad…" He looked directly into her eyes with furrowed brows. "Yes…I remember that time. You risked your life to save your sister then."
"My…my life?"
He snorted derisively, but not directly at her—more at her naïveté. "Krad…he wouldn't have wasted a second thought debating whether or not to kill you; if you or Harada were in his way you were as good as dead… It took everything I had to keep control over him, and even then I failed many times," he finished sourly.
"He was…to you…what Dark was to Niwa-kun?" He nodded, confirming her suspicion. "I remember that now… We were trying to find Niwa-kun, and we followed Dark to a tower…an old, crumbling, rotting tower…and we saw you, inside…but…"
"But it wasn't me you saw, it was Krad, am I right?" She nodded solemnly. "Even with his interference, though, in the end no one was hurt—physically, and Niwa came back," he stated simply, "I did have some modicum of control on when and for how long he could use my body—or rather, how long my body could survive while he was in control of it. A dead body, after all, was no use to him." Riku balked a bit at the almost cheery way Hiwatari-kun was speaking of suicide.
"… 'Did'… 'had'… 'was'…are you speaking in the past tense…because he's not here anymore?"
He threw her a glare and resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. "Do you honestly think I'd be sitting here telling you all this if he was still inside me? I thought you said you'd noticed a change in Niwa around the time Dark disappeared—and I've already explained how we were connected." Riku blushed lightly in embarrassment.
"Then…where are they now…?" Ah, the penultimate question, one in which was wrapped the heart of the discussion, the very core reason she'd come seeking answers in the first place.
Daisuke's normally cheery, bright-eyed mask fell for a moment, and Risa caught the barest glimpse of a boy matured in mind well beyond the seventeen years he'd been alive. This face, it embodied painful memories she couldn't even fathom, bonds she couldn't grasp, tears she couldn't shed. He quietly drew his knees up to his chin and picked at his sneakers, of which the sole of one was peeling away from the upper.
"Ne…Harada-san?" he called softly, but didn't lift his eyes from shoe in an effort to distract himself. "…You liked Dark, didn't you?" Her eyes widened slightly in shock, until she too turned her gaze away so she wouldn't have to look him in the face. "…And I don't…I don't think I want to tell you, though…because—because I don't like to see Harada-san sad…"
She shook her head and gave a sad smile, and he looked up, "No…Niwa-kun, that's not it…" She sighed. "I guess…yeah, I did like Dark—or thought I did at least. I mean, I was fourteen; my ideal boyfriend was someone who was tall and handsome and cool—Dark just seemed to fit the bill perfectly, you know? But…I know, now…that's not how it should have been. And—Niwa-kun's so nice…but even if it makes me sad, and even if I don't like it, that should never be a reason not to hear the truth. Because sometimes, the truth is all we have left to hold on to…and I want to hold on to it. Please, Niwa-kun…"
He closed his eyes slowly and let the memories drift in on a moonlit mental tide, coming and going as they pleased. "…The earthquakes had already started…the fountains had run dry, and the police were evacuating the city. Dark…Krad…they were fighting in the ruins of what had before been the Central Art Museum. It was…their last fight. The artwork which had given them birth—Koku Yoku—was being reawakened somehow and…and we felt we had to stop it…
"But the only way we could do that…was to seal it. And if we sealed it…"
"…Then Dark-san…and Krad, too?" He nodded.
"They fought for…it felt like forever—but I guess that's because they really had been fighting forever. Like that's all they existed for: to battle each other. But while they fought on the outside—Hiwatari-kun and I fought on the inside."
"You—fought?"
"…No, I guess that's not right, is it?" He cocked his head and searched for the correct phrasing. "He was…performing some kind of ritual, from inside Krad…He said it could only be done then—and that…" He furrowed his brows and struggled to recall the wording: "'Even Krad can't do anything without my body…' "
Risa gasped sharply, "Y—you don't…mean…?" Another nod, and by now the reasoning behind those sad eyes of Satoshi-kun's was becoming clearer and clearer. "…I…I can't believe that he would…"
"I wouldn't expect you to be able to understand it—because you can't imagine what it was like…Never being able to get close to…the person you like…for fear that they'll discover your secret. Never being able to really be yourself, for fear that that evil inside of you would come out and hurt those closest to you…I don't think I ever really understood what it was like for Hiwatari-kun…and I don't think I ever will…"
"…Satoshi-kun…" Risa echoed in a whisper, and drew her hands to her mouth, horrified. "But—but—he's gone now, isn't he? You said Krad—that he was gone now, right?"
"He's gone…"
"…And Dark-san, too…?"
Daisuke again closed his eyes and slipped peacefully into the solitude the darkness behind his lids provided, sinking into the inky blackness where he didn't have to see Risa's worried eyes searching for further explanation. But he knew, still, she wouldn't be appeased just hearing this much. And…he needed to speak it anyway. But, to him, retelling the tale was like admitting it all really happened.
And he didn't want to. He didn't want that—more than anything else, he didn't want that. "…Niwa-kun?"
"He did it…to save us all, you know?"
"Wh—what?"
"Dark…he sealed himself and Krad…to save us. Me, Hiwatari-kun, you, Riku-san, this whole city…he sacrificed his own life…if it could even be called a life… Just like it was any other thieving job, and he was just some artwork we were supposed to steal…He just said 'goodbye' and left…as if he'd be back in a few minutes…but he wasn't coming back. Ever…" His voice cracked on the last few words, and he quickly cut himself off and lowered his head, propping it up in his hands with his elbows on his knees.
Risa, too, lowered her eyes and let his final words sink in, before a barely whispered, "…Gomen…Harada-san…" reached her ears from his lips.
"…N-Niwa-kun…?"
"I said…I was sorry…"
"But, for what Niwa-kun? You shouldn't be apologizing for anything…"
"It…hurt…"
She sat a bit straighter now, worry rather than admonition now lacing her voice, and she knit her brows, reaching a hand out to steady him. "Niwa-kun? Are you…are you alright?" He was swaying a little in his seat.
"…I'm sorry because…because it hurt…when he left." He looked up, and she pulled back a bit from surprise at seeing his watery red orbs. "And I know it was selfish of me to hurt…so selfish…but even though he hurt Riku-san, and even though he made you cry, and even though he brought out all those terrible things in Hiwatari-kun…even though anyone would say the world was better off without Kaitou Dark—no, because anyone would say that! It still hurt!" His voice rose in volume, now pleading in tone, as if he was standing before a court, appealing his other half's case. "It hurt so much—and it's horrible that I felt that way! Because I had to watch Riku-san cry, I had to watch you cry, I had to watch Hiwatari-kun suffer because of me, and I still wanted to keep it that way, because—because—because I was Dark and Dark was me! We didn't just share a body, it was like we shared a soul—and when he left…when he left…"
A single tear trickled down his flushing cheek and dripped onto the soft rug beneath his feet.
"…When he left…it was like…that piece of my soul that was him…had been ripped out…but nobody put anything back in…"
For a moment, he was aware of nothing but the darkness of his own heart…until he registered a delicate ephemeral feminine touch as Risa encircled him with her arms and lay her head on his shoulder, comforting the boy who three years ago would have agreed to have spent a lifetime with her.
"…No, you're wrong, Niwa-kun…" He hastily pulled away from her grasp and stared at her with wide, disbelieving eyes. "You're wrong. It wasn't bad for you to hurt—it meant you were still human. And…you did have something to put back in: Riku." He lowered his eyes and pondered her words before how true they were sank in—yes, Riku-san had always been the one to pull him through. She'd been his source of strength after Freedert, more so she'd been his source of strength after Dark—even now, she was still his true divine maiden, for what mortal could embody the angelic traits she held?
As their conversation drew to a close, Risa pulled away back to her seat, and spoke softly, wringing her hands nervously, "Th…thank you, Niwa-kun…"
Hastily wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jumper, he queried back, "Wha—? What do you…mean? What for?"
Smiling warmly, she clarified, "For…for putting up with me for all these years, for bearing it all." She paused and shook her head, then continued after gathering her thoughts, "I realize that I…wasn't really the greatest friend in the world; I know back in junior high I judged everyone superficially, and…I hurt a lot of people who didn't deserve it. I just brushed off your feelings for me when you really liked me because I didn't think you were 'cool enough', and you bore my crush on Dark with such dignity… I know I wouldn't have had the strength to put up with someone precious to me looking at me everyday, but never really seeing me, looking through to another person inside me…
"So…not just for telling me all about the white Dark-san…about Krad…but for telling me all about you, for letting me know the real you—for showing me the truth, about Dark, about Satoshi-kun…
"Niwa-kun…arigatou!" she finished, eyes quivering with unshed tears, and—not wanting to break down before him—she quickly stood and rushed out the door up to the train station, headed home.
"H-Harada…san…!" he called her back, but she was too far gone to hear—more than physically so. Sighing, he stood from his seat upon the couch and headed to the bathroom to splash a bit of water on his face and calm down. Cupping his palms under the steady stream flowing from the silver faucet, he brought his hands up to his face and let the cool liquid stream down his cheeks and back down the drain, pausing to pull in deep breaths. After a moment he reached over blindly and felt around for a hand-towel, mopping the excess from his face, then stared defiantly into the mirror.
'Riku-san…'
He turned and stepped back out into the hallway, staring at the cordless phone hanging on the wall near the kitchen entrance and squared off.
'Riku-san… someday…someday—is today!'
He picked up the handset and began dialing the number from memory.
Riku thanked Satoshi for his time and left his apartment for home in quite a more somber mood than she'd started out in. Though—it wasn't as if she didn't have a reason now. Hearing the entire back-story of the Niwas and Hikaris was enough to drive even a clown to tears, and needless to say she hadn't been prepared for quite the graphic detail the story had been told in. Artists, thieves, magical beings, centuries-old curses…it all seemed as if crafted from some fairy-tale land.
Yet it was all heart-breakingly real. 'Niwa-kun…you kept this from me? You suffered in silence, when so many times I wanted to just hold you, to kiss away your pain…why, Niwa-kun…?'
Perhaps, she mused, it would have merely caused him more pain to convey it to someone else than to simply keep it to himself—for in the telling lay the true pain, as had become evident as she listened to Hiwatari-kun recounting the tale. Yet she couldn't put behind herself the suspicion that Hiwatari—or rather, Hikari-kun, as she'd learned, had a somewhat flawed view of what had happened. Dark…Krad…were they truly light and dark, or was it something completely different? Was the situation really that simple? But she'd been caught up in the tangled web of love and friendship, too, and could relate firsthand that no—it was most definitely not that simple. Niwa-kun had liked Risa at first (though this she'd already known), but Risa liked Dark (again, this she'd already known)—but further tangling it was Riku liking Daisuke, and completely hating Dark (obviously something else she knew already). When Hiwatari-kun had entered the picture, no obvious love "shape" could be determined anymore, and she all but gave up on trying to form one.
But no, now…now it was blessedly simple. No Dark to foul things up, just her and Niwa-kun…
Just…the two of them? Did Niwa-kun…like that?
Hiwatari-kun seemed perfectly happy to be rid of his other half; really, since junior high he'd been more social and agreeable, still as calm and passive as before, but gone was the cold aura he'd given off around his classmates. Being rid of—Krad, was it?—certainly seemed to agree with him.
For Niwa-kun, though, it seemed his life had taken an abrupt downward turn since Dark had been sealed, as Hiwatari-kun had put it. That old glimmer in his eyes that sparkled with life when they were together, had nearly faded into oblivion, growing dimmer by the day. Did he laugh less? No… Did he smile less? Not really…that wasn't the problem. It was his whole demeanor—his "Niwa-kun"-ness, perhaps, if she could use that terminology. His "Niwa-kun"-ness had disappeared with Dark.
Little quirks that had at first seemed annoying as they grew up together—his self-depreciating habit, where he'd take responsibility for nearly anyone's mistake; the way he seemed too…too…caring, if it was possible to be such a thing, how he took people too lightly, never taking offense. But then, she'd suddenly seen him in a different light—she was hesitant to conjecture that it had been the phantom thief's presence in his blood which had suddenly turned her on to how truly mature Niwa-kun had become. But yes, it had been then; she'd begun to sense a gnawing sensation in the pit of her stomach when Daisuke would offer to take over Risa's cleaning duties. She'd unconsciously grind her teeth when he'd come up asking to carry Risa's books before school. And even when she herself had begun to get closer to him, perpetually at the back of her mind was the annoying little high-pitched grating voice reminding her, "He only looks at you because you're Risa's twin…He doesn't see Riku, only Risa…You're kidding yourself…"
She hated that voice. But it always came back—until he finally silenced it.
That was, perhaps, the thing about him which most endeared him to her: he saved her. His constant reassurance that she existed, that—though Risa was the more popular—she wasn't just "Risa's older sister", or "Harada-san"; she was Riku-san. When he looked at her, she could feel his eyes seeing her, not a substitute for her sister, but really her.
'Niwa-kun…I…I love—'
RING…
RING…
RING…
She stopped at one of the benches at the trolley station and sank down onto the soft wood, hastily rooting around inside her bag for her cell phone. Once she successfully located it, she quickly flipped it open, "Hello?"
There was silence on the other end of the line for the barest moment before a soft steady voice drifted over the airwaves, "Hello, Riku-san."
"N-Niwa-kun!" Smiling widely now she held the phone with two hands and pressed it closer to her ear, as if by such an act she could get closer to him. "What's the call for?"
Another pause, as if it was taking him a moment to gather the fortitude to form the words. "Riku-san…do you have…a few minutes?"
Her smile faded slightly—his voice was not as cheery as normal, "Of…of course I do…did you need something?"
"…Can you meet me at the fountain up by the park on the overlook?"
"…S-sure…Niwa-kun…is something wrong?"
The longest pause yet ensued after these words.
"No, Riku-san…I think…I think something is very right…" Click—the line went dead, and with furrowed brows she pulled back and stared at it for another minute before packing it back in her purse and hurrying the few blocks up to the newly-remodeled fountain.
As she'd been waiting at the trolley station when he'd called, Riku was naturally the first to arrive—though to Daisuke's credit, he arrived a mere minute or two later. Pedaling the same small bike he'd had since junior high, she spotted his spiky red head from the top of the hill, bobbing along up the street towards the newly remodeled coastal area of town. Leaning comfortably upon the rough stone handrail, she gazed out over the vast expanse of water stretching out far into the distance for miles. The sun was sinking slowly into it, sending up a haze of steam that blurred the distant horizon and made her eyes water. How many times had she stood here in the past at Niwa-kun's side, when he would come to sketch the dilapidated houses off to the north, or when they'd come to stargaze, eager to see the thousand stars reflected in the ocean's expanse?
As he crested the hill, Daisuke easily slipped off the seat and walked the bike the last few feet to lean against a hedgerow, then sidled up beside her and stared across the water with her for a few moments, drawing in deep breaths of the salty ocean air blowing through the town.
"Riku-san…" he began, and she turned her face towards him, the setting sun reflected in her dark eyes, "I…I want to tell you, now…"
She laid a tentative hand on his jacketed arm. "Tell me…what?"
Turning fully to face her, he looked down, smiling, relieved. "I want to tell you…about that time—everything. About me, about Dark, about…what it means to be a Niwa. I want…I want you to know now…"
She stared at him for a moment, speechless, before turning back to the ocean and leaning onto the handrail again. Restraining a gentle laugh, she spoke lightly, "…Too late, Niwa-kun!"
Daisuke blinked a few times in rapid succession, before forcing out, "Too—late…?"
She closed her eyes and nodded brightly, and the feminine laugh she'd been restraining broke through, so she stuck her tongue out playfully and turned around, now leaning backwards onto the rail. "I didn't want…to see Niwa-kun so down anymore so—so I went to Hiwatari-kun's apartment today, and asked him to tell me why. I knew whatever you were feeling, you didn't think you had anyone else to confide in—because I didn't understand what happened, with Dark and all. So…I went and found out for myself."
Straightening up, he cocked his head slightly to the side, a smile creeping slowly but surely up over his lips, and he shook his head in mirth. "Was that…bad?" she asked timidly.
He responded immediately by enveloping her in a warm hug, pressing her to his chest and burrowing his head into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent. "Riku-san…" he murmured into her jacket, voice nearly lost in the fabric, "Arigatou…" She gently squeezed back and settled her head on his shoulder for the next few moments until they separated, then retreated with him over to a bench.
"…Ne, Niwa-kun…"
"Hn?"
She leaned forward, head propped up in her hands as she balanced her elbows on her knees and looked out into the ocean. "Not that I would have cared if you'd decided to tell me today or ten years from now, but…why today? What made you suddenly decide?"
He smiled and flopped back against the wood railing of the bench. "Actually…it was Harada-san…"
"Huh?" She turned abruptly and stared at him. "Risa?"
He nodded slowly. "She came over earlier this afternoon…and asked me if I would tell her everything I knew about…the white Dark."
"…Is that…Krad?" He nodded once again. "But…why would she want to know…?"
He sat up a bit straighter and cocked his head in thought. "She said…that it was for Hiwatari-kun. That she wanted to 'understand him better' for some reason…"
Riku turned her face forward again and furrowed her brows. "She has been acting a little weird around him lately…" to which Daisuke agreed.
"Hiwatari-kun too…especially around whenever we go to the Mid Winter Carnival every December…" Here Riku nodded as well, and another moment passed in virtual silence as they pondered, before suddenly whipping their heads to face each other, eyes wide and disbelieving.
"W—wait a minute—you don't think—?"
"But—no…no, surely not—not Hiwatari-kun…and Harada-san…"
Each now further tested this new scenario in his or her mind. "…I…well…it's not that farfetched…"
"After all…Risa's matured…kind of…"
"And Hiwatari-kun…well, he always was mature…"
"…"
"…"
"…Nah!" they chimed in simultaneously, laughing nervously and shaking their heads at the utterly preposterous and completely impossible thought of Risa and Hiwatari-kun being "an item".
When the elder Harada finally left his apartment after getting her answers, Satoshi stood at his window hawk-like and watched her make her way down the block to the trolley station safely, then shoved his hands into his pockets and retreated back into the living room, slumping into a seat amongst the couch cushions. He let a sigh blow over his lips and thumbed through a few sheaves of paper littering his desktop before abandoning the attempt to divert his attentions from the events of the past few hours.
So, did it feel any different now—now that he'd told someone how he'd experienced it? Was it like he'd hoped—that it would feel like some great burden had been lifted from his shoulders?
…Not really…
But then, Riku…hadn't been who he'd really wanted to tell it all to in the first place. Let Niwa do it, it was his job, she was his problem, and it wasn't Satoshi's responsibility to explain all the finer nuances of the Niwa and Hikari lines to an outsider, when she already had someone better to hear it from. She'd wanted to know the events of three years ago and why Daisuke seemed so sad at times—so he'd told her. About Dark, about Krad, about their battle in the Central Art Museum. It really wasn't that detailed an explanation, and he hadn't even bothered to go far into the history of it all—did she really need to know everything? Well, if Niwa felt that way, let him waste his time with her.
He had better ideas of how best to spend his time.
Or…so he'd thought. Until he'd asked her why she wanted to know: what good would knowing do, when it wasn't as if it could help the boy?
"But…but it can, don't you see? Even if I can only look at him—simply by feeling, I help! Niwa-kun…he doesn't have to feel it alone, and I…I want to be there with him when it hurts, and even when it doesn't, just to let him know that he doesn't have to be strong—for me, he doesn't have to be strong…I just…want him to know that…"
"He already knows…" Satoshi spoke in a raspy voice into the thin silence of his cluttered apartment, "He already knows…"
Posting his arms stiffly at his sides he heaved himself up off the couch and stared down at the assorted piles of papers spread out over the coffee table—sources for his end of term paper due soon. They would have to wait.
Bending over quickly he snatched up his house key and headed out the door for the trolley station.
Twenty minutes later he somehow found himself standing on the front stoop of the Harada mansion and couldn't rightly remember just what on earth had driven him there of all places. Had something, perhaps, been knocked loose in his head recently? Was he putting in one too many long nights on that Sociology term paper? Could he have been sleepwalking?
Try as he might he couldn't convince himself he was here on accident. Some time back he'd learned the way to the Harada home after growing tired of always setting out late for the group's annual trip down to the mid Winter Carnival—Risa's packing, it seemed, always caught them off guard and they'd have to delay departure in favor of loading up the car with her three or four bags that—like rabbits—seemed to multiply year after year. Their second year he'd simply shown up at three with his bags in hand, smirking at their shocked faces when he rounded the corner into the main circular driveway and had repeated it since then.
As he stood in front of the great double doors, backlit by the setting sun, he waged a great mental battle with himself—to ring the doorbell, or not to ring the doorbell? That was, in fact, the question. For if he rang it, then the door would, no doubt, open, thus setting off a chain reaction that would ultimately end in a very awkward situation for the both of them. If he didn't, though, he could simply turn around and make his way back home, no fuss, no muss, and merely be out the small price he'd paid to make his way over here on the trolley.
…But why had he come in the first place? He tried to recall his logic leading up to the decision to head over to the twins' mansion…to no avail. Was this really necessary? It was certainly unlike him, to be this way, but…why did he want to tell her?
…That was an answer even he couldn't give.
With a surrendering sigh, he lifted a finger and let it hover over the doorbell for a few seconds before pushing it forward, sounding the bell. The bright clear ringing echoed throughout the house, and he stood for another moment listening to the movements just inside.
"I've got it, Tsubouchi-san!" came Risa's cheery voice, muffled by the thick wood, and he tensed slightly as the doorknob jiggled and twisted as she unlatched the deadbolt. Slowly the door opened inward and she poked her head out to greet their guest.
When her eyes fell upon his tall lanky form, though, she couldn't help the unconscious gasp his presence elicited, and drew back slightly in surprise, fingers losing their grip on the door. The thin outline of his body was fading in the dying light, giving him an almost sidereal appearance backlit by the setting sun, yet he kept his face impassive despite her reaction. "…S-Satoshi-kun? What are…you doing here?" She eased past the door, standing half in and half outside the house, "Did you…need something?"
His cold blue eyes were unblinking, and she shivered—though from the chill in the air or from his gaze it was impossible to tell. Shifting to the side he shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Kind of…" Turning his back to her, he threw a glance over his shoulder and queried, "Would you…like to take a walk for a few?" She started, and he continued casually, "There's a park up by the trolley station, decent pathways…" After overcoming her period of shock at what he was asking, she hesitantly nodded and excused herself to run upstairs and get a coat from her room, returning a moment later. Assuring Tsubouchi she'd be back in a few minutes, she exited the house at his side, and the two began ambling off towards the trolley station.
An uncomfortably awkward silence enveloped them for the next ten minutes as they rounded the corner and passed the shopping sector up—the vendors had all already packed up for the evening, Risa didn't know what to say, and Satoshi was never one for idle chatter. Only the faint calls of birds in the trees and local traffic filled the air as they plodded on, and neither spoke to one another until they'd reached the park.
Under the trees the last bits of sunlight filtered through bushes and overhanging limbs to dapple to sidewalks in a polka-dotted array of dim light, and the chilly October wind blowing about them caused Risa to zip her jacket higher in an effort to keep it out. She allowed Satoshi to walk a few steps in front of her for the next minute or so, until he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks before her and turned to look at her, his face a blank mask. She too halted upon realizing he was staring at her.
"Harada," he began in that steady voice of his, without ceremony, "…Do you like me?"
For a moment, she simply blinked in confusion, then easily broke into a smile before brushing it off. "Of course, Satoshi-kun!" she laughed, "We've been friends all this time—even Niwa-kun wouldn't ask something stupid like that, you should know better."
His gaze grew stormy and darkened, his voice no longer as steady, and he advanced the few feet that had separated them until he was staring straight down into her eyes, their faces barely an inch apart. "No…Harada: do you like me?"
It was quite evident she couldn't pass this question off as easily as she'd evaded it the first time, and she bit her lip and turned her eyes from the blue fathoms bearing down on her, as if by doing so she could keep him from seeing the truth. "I…" As if undergoing some sudden epiphany, she quietly breathed, "I think…I do…"
He let her up and backed away now, turning away from her and narrowing his eyes in confusion. He crushed a few dry leaves which littered the cement underfoot, kicking away the broken remains with the toe of his show. "…Why?" Closing her eyes, she found she could give him no suitable reply, but he saved her the trouble: "…I'm not Dark, Harada. However you felt about him, I could never have been him."
Her eyes flew open and she looked up, horrified. "Wha—no!" she choked out in protest; was she really that predictable? Had she not come far from those days in junior high and what she'd convinced herself was nothing more than a silly crush? "No…" Her voice was more steady now, less frantic and hurried, "It's just…you seemed like…like you needed someone to care for you…"
He gave a dry laugh, completely devoid of mirth. "And you thought that maybe you could be that person, is that it?" he returned coldly, flinging the words into her face. "How would you know what I need? Don't presume to know me just because we happen to occasionally enjoy each other's company: I am not what I seem."
"No—" she corrected firmly, cutting into him, and he looked up at her now, shocked at the bold tone her voice had taken now, "No—you were not what you seemed, Satoshi-kun. But that was three years ago, the past. And I don't presume to know everything about you, but I do presume to know some things. Don't be so quick to push me away simply because you think I wouldn't understand your pain." She suddenly held her right fist between their faces, and he stared at it. "I have…something to show you."
With a few deft sleight-of-hand movements and a quick flick of her wrist, she produced from the sleeve of her jacket a single white feather, and Satoshi paled in shock, his mouth dangling open ungracefully. She looked down at it and turned it over in her palm a few times, running a finger up and down the vein a few times, stroking it gently; for its age, though, it still seemed as if it had been plucked not a few moments before, and there were no age-spots staining its pure white veneer. "I've kept this…for three years, Satoshi-kun," she confessed softly after a moment of reminiscing, "…Do you know why?"
Completely ignoring her question, he clenched and unclenched his fists at his side, seething. "Wh—where did you get that?" he hissed.
Voice devoid of emotion, a brilliant switch for the two of them, she easily returned, "From you, Satoshi-kun, although you may not remember it—but answer my question. Why would I keep this?"
He shook his head to clear her voice from his mind, "I…I don't know…"
Breaking into a sad smile, she returned her attentions to the feather, running it up and down her cheek, and echoed his sentiment. "Neither did I…until today…" He refocused his gaze on her, confused as ever. "I went…to Niwa-kun's today…and I asked him to tell me everything, so he did. Everything: about Niwa-kun, about Dark-san, about Satoshi-kun…" She paused and leaned in close, looking directly into his eyes, unflinching, "…about Krad…"
Here he abruptly pushed her away and stepped backwards hastily, nearly tripping over his own feet, and shook his head in abject refusal to believe her words, "No…no, no no no no! No—he can't have told you everything!"
"And why not?" she shot back, pained, "Don't you think I have a right to know? I was just as deeply involved in all that as you—admit it!"
"No—he can't have told you everything about me because—because he doesn't know everything about me, none of you do! He may think he understands how I feel, but he doesn't know it—"
"Because you won't tell anyone! You say you don't want anyone pitying you, or feeling sorry for you, or—or anything—but with you perpetually moping around and bemoaning your 'wretched fate' and all that crap, what would you expect us to do, sit around and let you go about your business as usual?! I care too much—we all care too much. Too much to see you like this, with no one to confide in, and do nothing about it!"
He growled low, "That Dark—he was nothing compared to the hell I lived in with Krad, so don't think just because you heard Niwa's version of those events that you even remotely understand what it was like for me. I told you once already, if I want anyone to feel sorry for me I'll call up Niwa—"
"I don't want to feel sorry for you!" she yelled frantically, voice cracking, eyes welling up with tears. "I just want to love you!" With a quick gasp she slapped a gloved hand over her own mouth, as if she could take back the words by doing so, eyes wide and quivering with unleashed frustration—both with herself and with Satoshi, and she slowly lowered her head submissively, giving up.
Satoshi, though, was just as caught off guard as she was—perhaps more so, as he hadn't expected anything like this to come from the younger Harada. True, he remembered only too well their first trip down to the Mid-Winter Carnival, and the strange kiss they'd shared, but it had been a one-time thing, and both had filed it away in their long-term memories as "So not happening again".
After a moment, his mouth once again unconsciously phrased the question forever racing through his sharp mind. "…Why, though?" She opened her eyes, and a few stray tears dropped onto the concrete. "…What on earth could possess you…to feel that way about…me?" He turned his head to stare at her, disbelief and doubt painted vividly on the smooth flesh of his cheeks, flushed red with the chill.
Shaking her head, she muttered low, "You really are blind, Satoshi-kun…For all the light your real name implies, you are truly stuck in the dark—you can't even see those qualities you possess that Riku, Niwa-kun, and I all cherish so much!" She hastily wiped her eyes with her sleeve and continued while he looked on with furrowed brows, as confused as ever. "You—you—you're smart, yet you don't flaunt it; you care—you're compassionate towards your friends, you're funny when you want to be, you're serious when you need to be, and you give off this…this air of elegance that immediately draws every eye in the room to you. You hold people's attentions in the palm of your hand, yet you don't abuse it. You understand how fragile life…truly is." She sighed, defeated. "And it…captivates me…really…"
The same silence that had plagued them as they'd walked to the park once again settled, making itself at home between the two, and Risa's beseeching words quickly died away on the wind. The sun was beginning its long trek towards the western horizon, and in the distant east the sky was already fading from the bright pale blue of afternoon to the softer hues of early evening.
"…But, even if that's true…how can you feel that way, knowing what I was…?" His back was still turned from her, and his shoulders heaved. He all but whispered the words in an angry hiss—though not anger at her, but more with himself for being so vulnerable under her gaze. "…How…?"
She gave no verbal reply as of yet, and merely stepped forward and approached him from behind, wrapping her jacketed arms around him, and leaning softly into his back, soaking up the life-giving heat of his body and drawing in a deep breath of the chilled air that flooded all her senses with Satoshi. "…Even then…even if you were still him…even then…I would accept you both…" She could feel his back muscles tensing in disbelief at the statement, but she only clutched him tighter, as if squeezing the validity of her words into his very flesh. "For Satoshi-kun…I would…I would accept—Krad!" she finished in a small cry, slightly muffled as she buried her face into the soft wool of the back of his long coat. "I would…"
Though she could not hear them, inside his head were echoing the ghosts of Daisuke's desperate words from long before.
"If you keep on living, you'll eventually meet that person—someone who'll say, 'I'm glad Hiwatari-kun is with me.'"
Eventually…?
…Why not now?
Why not?
Post-Chapter Notes: And just for fun, we end on that Satoshi/Risa note again. Whoa, umm, so here's the deal: I'd wanted to make this chapter a lot longer than this, because there was a lot more I wanted to include, but then I looked and saw that this thing was already 20 pages long, and figured after that I'd start to lose interest probably—so sorry about that! Ah, and if you haven't noticed, I tend to have a penchant for angsty scenes (after all, I am sage of ANGST), but these big sad scenes will end soon, this I promise, especially when we catch back up to the present in the next chapter (umm, I hope it's next chapter…)—I have great plans for little Daiichi! As always, thanks for sticking with me, and don't forget to R/R!—sage
