Author's Notes: Finally, we're getting the ball rolling (again?) on this story. Come to think of it, this will be the first chapter since the opening one without gratuitous flashbacks taking up the whole chapter—and hopefully this will set a shining example for any and all subsequent chapters. I will make every effort to avoid flashbacks that stretch four chapters in the future, though I don't believe I'll be needing any more of those. So, on with the Daiichi goodness!
Also, for anyone interested, I've uploaded pics to my website of Daiichi and Kara, aged 14, just because I felt like it. For anyone unfamiliar with the details, Daiichi is an actual anime-based character, so his design isn't much changed from his single appearance (though I did age him a bit since he looks to be nine or ten in the anime), while Kara is completely my creation. Email me for the link because apparently I can't display html addresses in here...
"Papa…?" the tiny muffled voice of Hiwatari Kara, age five-and-a-half tested from her perch curled up against her father's chest as the two lounged in the over-stuffed chair in front of the bookcase full of ancient literature. It was very nearly the child's bedtime, and she was already having trouble keeping her eyelids from drooping down on top of her sparkling blue eyes—much more alive and warm than her father's infamous ice pits.
Satoshi pulled his head back at an awkward angle to look down at his daughter, "What is it?"
She peered up and snuggled even more into his chest before wrapping her short arms around him as best she could, then closed her eyes. "Papa…what was Mama like?"
His eyes unfocused, and everything became a blur. Laying a feather-soft kiss upon the crown of her head, lips lost in the smooth flaxen locks, he began to speak softly so as not to disturb her as she drifted off to sleep listening to the soothing sound of her father's voice. "Mama was…very, very special to me. She was kind-hearted and caring, and was always smiling at the world…she was funny and a little absent-minded, but she could be quite smart when she needed to be…"
"…Was she pretty…?" the soft voice asked, heavy with sleep, tiny mouth opening in a great yawn, eyes completely closed.
"Very much so…" he continued, then stared down at his daughter and began slowly stroking the child's hair as he rocked her to sleep, "Just like you…my Kara-chan…"
"…'night…Pa…pa…"
Smiling with the half-weary, half-grateful face that only a parent can bear, he silently wished her good night as well, then eased himself and her up out of the seat as he carried her off to bed.
And in the back of his mind as he climbed the stairs to her loft, a grating voice from long ago began twitching verbally.
'Oh no, no, no, Satoshi-sama. This simply will not do. Your everything? Your everything? Satoshi-sama, the owned cannot own anything. And you are mine, have you forgotten that? Has it been so long? She cannot be yours, for you…you are all my own.'
Satoshi shot up straight in his bed, sheets sticking to his sweat soaked body, and shook his head to clear the images of the dream.
Something was churning in his stomach and initiating his gag reflex in such a way that it was almost unbearable—he flung away the sheets and padded as quickly and softly as he could in his pajama bottoms to the toilet down the hall, and just leaned over the bowl for the next ten minutes, panting as if he'd just run a mile. Slowly the churning subsided and his breathing slowed.
'Still having those bad dreams, are we, Satoshi-sama?'
His eyes widened for a moment before the memory of the previous afternoon's happening came crashing back to his body full force, and he felt the rising tide of vomit once more knock on his throat. That's right…he was back. He was back, but he wasn't fully manifested yet…No, as long as Satoshi watched himself, he might even be able to keep him at bay for at least until something about why this all had happened again was sorted out.
'Keep me at bay? Is that what you intend to try and do?' He could almost see Krad standing before him, shaking his head at Satoshi's naïveté, mane of gold swishing back and forth like some fluid pendulum glinting in the moonlight. 'When will you learn? All your ancestors accepted me, what do you think makes you so special? I've come back for you, though…I waited for you, thinking I'd been abandoned, sealed, locked away from my favorite Hikari child forever…And joyous day—I was mistaken.'
"Favorite?" Satoshi scoffed in a raspy whisper. Needless to say it was not a position he was delighted to hold. In fact, any position which involved Krad anywhere near him was bad. "If only I could learn whatever it was about my ancestors you hated…"
'Would you really like to know, Satoshi-sama?' the voice tinkled, an almost amused tone echoing through the darkness in the hallway—a voice he alone could hear. 'Would it make you happy, to know why you are so very very dear to me?'
"Enlighten me…" was the monotone reply, bouncing off the walls.
'It is because, Satoshi-sama…because your feelings more than any others' before you…they are so delicious, you are a veritable feast to me. And I simply want to devour you whole.'
"Then bite me," was the cold retort, and Krad could only smile and watch as the only remaining male Hikari dragged himself back to his room and crumpled in a heap onto his futon, headed for more restless dreams.
'Ne…ne, Daiichi.' All he was returned was the silent darkness of the Niwa boy's mind. 'Oi, kid!' Still no reply, all Dark could register was the steady peak and fall of the child's mental waves, not erratic, but paced—he was sleeping.
Of course, this was not the state Dark needed him in. His internal clock was still set to "Daisuke time", and having to go through the trouble every school morning of trying to stay asleep while Daisuke muddled along his daily life had ingrained in the phantom thief the timetable of a modern-day eighth grader. And his clock was telling him Daiichi was dangerously close to being late for school if he didn't wake up and put on some speed.
He sighed heavily and shook his head. The boy would hate him for this later, but something had to be done—he'd borne the brunt of Daisuke's anger at him for securing his body while he was sleeping before, Daiichi would be no different.
Sending out tendrils of his seizing magic to probe the boy's thoughts, he quickly located the appropriate terminals and eased aside Daiichi's own neural connectors, a simple task with him in this unconscious state. Dark connected himself with the same ease one might experience when sliding into the driver's seat of a new car. After a few adjustments, he tested the new surroundings.
Geez this kid was short.
He was simply lying there in the loft bed—one much like Daisuke had had as a child, skin twitching involuntarily as he soaked in the sensation of the smooth cloth from the sheets rubbing against Daiichi's bare legs and arms. He could sense everything.
The barely-there feeling of the individual hairs brushing across the forehead, sending tingling shivers directly through the skull into the foreign being controlling the mind. The cool breeze drifting up from the coastline through the half-open window (Riku's doing?) carrying the scent of the salty sea mixed with the morning market into the quiet room.
Wait—why was he waking the boy up this way again? Ah, right: school.
Still getting acquainted with the gangly body which was somehow very similar to Daisuke's and yet completely different at the same time, it took nearly two minutes just to get the body to sit up erect, and another minute to swing the legs over to the ladder. Maneuvering down was a feat in itself, and only after they'd descended into the stable floor did Dark think about what tragedy might have befallen them had he missed a step in the new body. Ah well, what did it matter, he was down, wasn't he?
As he drunkenly ambled out the door into the bathroom around the corner, he could feel Daiichi's mental waves become slightly more erratic, indicating he was ending his sleep cycle and dangerously close to waking up and being freaked out at once again being shoved from control over his body. Dark scrambled the body into the bathroom and stood at the sink, arms stretched out to balance the body against the sink. He clenched his eyes shut and prepared for the boy to stir and panic.
'Daiichi…oi, Daiichi. Niwa, wake up kid.' This time, his efforts were more successful, which was fortunate. The strain of prodding the child while simultaneously keeping the body under his control was trying on his mind, and already he was losing his grip.
'Wha…who…' Even his mental voice was groggy and sleep-laden, the Niwa boy having not quite fully woken up yet, just now rousing. In his astral form the phantom thief could feel Daiichi unconsciously trying to reinsert himself into control of his facilities. 'Wha—why can't I—'
"—move my mouth—oh, wait…" His eyes blurred in and out of focus as he adjusted them to the harsh artificial light of the bathroom. "…Why am I in the bathroom?" He shifted his gaze from one end of the room to the other, then back to himself in the mirror. "…Sleepwalking?"
'Heh, you wish kid.' Daiichi jumped nearly three feet in the air, heart leaping up into his throat, before landing on his rear-end on the floor with a loud thud. 'Ah ah, no time to sit around, Dai-chan. You're already late.'
"Late…?" He scanned his memory—so much had happened in the past twenty-four hours that he knew something important was being overlooked, but what… "Crap! School!"
"Great—what—am—I going—to do—about—Hiwa—tari-san—though?!" The question was short and dotted with panting gasps as Daiichi charged up the hill atop which Azumano No. 2 was situated, feet slapping loudly against the concrete as he hurried to beat the morning bell. "I'll just—have—to—avoid her—until—the end—of school—then figure—out what—I can—do…" He slowed to a halt at the top of a crest and bent over in two, hands resting on his knees as he allowed himself a moment to breathe.
"It's all your fault anyways," he continued after a moment, ambling towards the main gates at a more normal pace. Students mingled around in groups in the front courtyard area, and Daiichi lowered his voice. "If you hadn't come out in front of her then I could've gotten a decent night's sleep last night and wouldn't be pulling my hair out about this now!"
'Hey, don't pile this all on me kid—she's your love interest, not mine. I only do what the DNA tells me to.' Daiichi could almost see the phantom thief smiling smugly from inside his head—an image he'd become familiar with the previous night when his father had taken down a dusty photo album full of newspaper clippings with headlines like Kaitou Dark Manages to Nab the Moonlight Mask! or Police Still On Manhunt for Dark After Losing the Angel's Love Potion. Most of the images had been blurred over time, but apparently Emiko-obaachan had taken it upon herself to slide in a few gratuitous headshots of the supernatural being.
"Stupid DNA…" he mumbled dejectedly, kicking a bit of trash across the yard as he trudged forward with his hands stuffed angrily in his pockets. "Stupid family line, stupid Dad for being a Niwa, stupid phantom thieves, stupid—"
"Ah! Niwa-kun!" a cheery female voice called from behind him, and Daiichi instinctively turned around, completely unprepared for the sight of—
"Hi-Hi-Hi-Hiwatari-san!" The name fell from his mouth in a flood of syllables, and he successfully managed to trip over the first few, rendering him slightly goofy in his classmate's eyes. He pulled back as soon as he realized who'd called him and began searching for a possible escape route. Unfortunately, though, none were available at the moment, so he puffed out his chest and stood ready to take whatever upbraiding was surely coming. He bent forward in a low bow and rushed out, "I'm sorry! About yesterday! I'm very, very sorry, Hiwatari-san!"
Shoulder-length golden locks bouncing as she slowed to a stop in front of him, Kara peered down curiously at the boy nearly bent in two in front of her. "Niwa-kun…what are…you doing?" she asked, a bit embarrassed at being regarded this way when she could think of no reason for Daiichi to do so. "Please—get up!"
Confused, Daiichi raised his head, his fearful expression slowly fading from his features. "You're…not mad? About…about yesterday?" he tested tentatively, straightening back up. A thought occurred to him—maybe she was just pretending like nothing happened! Ah, what a wonderful girl… "Hiwatari-san, really, you don't have to act like you're not mad! You can…you can even hit me if you want! Please!"
Her mouth dropped open. "Hit you? Niwa-kun, what are you talking about? I just came to ask if I could borrow your notes from World History yesterday! I can't seem to find mine—I think I must have misplaced my notebooks, because I'm borrowing Mika-san's math and English notes as well…" Her eyes dropped towards the floor as she wrung her hands, embarrassed. "I just can't…remember where…"
She couldn't remember? So she…didn't know…about him…?
'I knew Hiwatari would find some way to save your butt—he always did have a soft spot for you Niwas, even if he is a Hikari. I'd tell you to thank him later, but I'm not so sure that's a good idea now…'
"Ne, Niwa-kun?" Daiichi snapped from his mental partner's speech. "Is it alright? Would you mind? I promise to return them as soon as I copy them!"
Kara looked up at him hopefully, blue eyes sparkling like sapphires, reflecting back at him the dappled sunlight streaming down through the trees. So pure, so beautiful…and she was begging him, so near, so…
A tremor that felt like a tiny explosion deep inside his chest nearly sent Daiichi sprawling to the ground, and he gripped his chest, grunting out quickly, "H-hai, Hiwatari-san! I'll get them to you later—I gotta go!" Then he scrambled across the school grounds into the main building, headed for the boys' locker room at the end of the main hallway.
'Better hurry Daiichi-chan…' came the sing-song teasing inside his head, followed by a cackling that none but the Niwa boy could hear.
It took him the next five minutes to finally calm down, barely retaining his own form after a solemn reminder from his alter-ego that if he transformed, it certainly wouldn't be easy to transform back—after all, Riku was all grown up now, and what's more she was married. The thrill of trying to woo the elder Harada twin had left him empty inside. No Risa, no Riku, no Rika—no one. Unless that Harada family just happened to keep a store of beautiful girls somewhere in that mansion of theirs, it was going to be quite a feat getting Daiichi back in his own body if they transformed.
They managed to hurry back to his homeroom and reach his seat just as the first bell was ringing, and Daiichi slumped into his seat with a huff, not looking forward to the day at all. On the bright side, though, it didn't look as if Hiwatari-san remembered seeing him transform on the previous afternoon, so he didn't have to worry about dodging her all day. As if he needed to give her another excuse to dislike him…
Lunchtime rolled around in the next few hours, and he retreated under a tree in a far corner of the school-yard and pulled out the bento his mother had prepared for him, eating it in slow, solemn silence as he mentally reviewed what all had happened in the last chaotic twenty-four hours.
'At least she's a better cook than her sister…' Dark mentioned almost casually, idly slipping a tendril of magic into Daiichi's taste receptors, sharing in the enjoyment of the meal with his host. 'I can actually tell it's food.'
"She and Dad take turns cooking meals," Daiichi commented, crumpling up his paper bag to throw in the trashcan, "But more often than not Mom winds up finishing and shoving Dad out of the kitchen, saying something about how he hasn't changed since middle school."
While Daiichi concentrated on his food, Dark extended himself to the boy's other four senses and observed the area around the two: touch let him know they were sitting on a soft grassy knoll in the sunshine, smell told him that the sauce in Daiichi's bento was a little spicy today, hearing alerted him to the sounds of laughter, attesting to the fact that there was a loud game of tag going on among a few of the lower classmen on the east end of the field, and sight…
Sight told him that Daiichi was sitting all alone, on the other end of the field away from any classmates. The nearest group was the Hiwatari girl's gaggle of girlfriends, all giggling excitedly as they watched the game underway—any other children were either under the main breezeway with their lunches or inside.
Why did this kid eat alone?…Didn't he have any friends to eat with? Sure, the Niwas weren't known for their staggering social skills, but even Daisuke had a few close friends, that loudmouth reporter Saehara being one of them. Outside of school Daisuke had been quite the introvert, but inside he was just your normal school kid, with friends and love interests. But this Daiichi…
'Alright kid,' Dark spoke to himself where Daiichi couldn't hear him, 'Looks like you need my help more than I realized…'
After lunch, the rest of the day seemed to pass by more swiftly than the first half had, possibly due to Daiichi tuning out the majority of the lectures in favor of mental conversations with Dark—to his surprise, the thief was actually quite knowledgeable on the subject of the mid-nineteenth century for someone who only appeared every twenty years or so, depending on whether or not his previous host had a son or daughter.
'And the politics, don't even get me started on that…for the first time in, like, two hundred years the Niwa family finally had quite a fortune to their name—all kinds of prestige and such, so naturally they had leeches sucking on them the whole time… I could never understand what draws you humans so much about that money stuff…'
'I guess you didn't care much about getting rich or anything, did you?' Daiichi queried, curious that such a being existed who didn't care about money.
'Kid, when your "life span" encompasses the amount of time it takes for your host to fall in love, you learn to live by the seat of your pants and not worry about things like money—add to that the fact that I had more important problems on my hands than that, like—'
"Niwa Daiichi—could you please answer the question, for the third time? Are you paying attention young man?" a stern voice slit the air and jerked the boy from his reverie, eliciting silent laughter and a light, 'gomen, gomen,' from Dark.
"Ah, y-yes sir…" He flipped forward a few pages and scanned some paragraphs in an effort to make it appear he was simply searching for an answer. "Umm…would you mind repeating the question, Miyamoto-sensei?" he asked meekly.
The man standing at the front slapped his head and repeated in a monotone, irritated voice the question he'd already asked numerous times, drawing snickers from Daiichi's classmates. After throwing them all dark, murderous looks, he brusquely answered correctly in an instant, then smirked at them all.
"Thank you, Niwa-kun. Now, in the future, would you mind answering in that manner the first time you're asked, or shall I take this matter up with Principal Saehara? You're usually not one to let your mind wander in class…"
"Ah—n-no sir! It won't happen again!"
Dark was speechless for a moment as Daiichi took his seat once more and read along silently in his book while the teacher went back to reviewing the latter half of the eighteen-hundreds.
'Saehara…is the principal of this school?'
Daiichi looked up, pretending to focus on the talking head at the front of the room which had now sunken into a monotone review of what was going on in other areas of the world during the late 1800s. 'Yeah, why?'
'Not…Saehara Takeshi…right? I mean, that's just ludicrous…not him, right?'
'…Why would that be ludicrous? I mean, he's not the best principal we've ever had but—'
Daiichi could feel Dark mentally slapping himself in the head. 'You're kidding me…'
The end of the school day could not come soon enough for the poor harried little Niwa boy—how his father went through this every day at his age was beyond his scope of understanding. His head was pounding from all the mental repartee he'd engaged in that day, and suffice to say Miyamoto-sensei was not the last of his teacher's to reprimand him for "daydreaming" in class.
Today, though, he made no mad dash to grab his bag and shoot out the door to follow Hiwatari-san home, as he'd done in the past. In fact, thanks to yesterday's happenings, he'd probably never be able to follow her or get close to her again without running the risk of transforming. Slinging his pack around his shoulders and shoving his hands in his pockets, he traipsed dejectedly out the door, bound for his house.
'Ah, cheer up Dai-chan…frowns don't suit the Niwas!'
"Well please explain to me what exactly I have to be cheerful about—I just got rejected by the greatest girl in school, which means I've got nothing left to strive for there, I've been possessed by the spirit of a phantom thief who's older than dirt—"
'Hey! I am not older than dirt, I'll have you know. With a face like this, I can't possibly be a decade over three hundred.'
"—and what's more, I think Mom undercooked some of those vegetables 'cause I'm not feeling too well right now…" He raised his head, eyelids drooping pathetically, and pouted a moan as he dragged his feet out through the gate. His stance got a bit more erect, though, when he spied a certain golden haired girl sliding into a stately black car in the school's front driveway. "…Hiwatari-san…she usually takes the trolley home, though, I thought."
Before he could further question Kara's change of her usual means of travel homeward, however, the door on the other side of the car opened, and out stepped a tall man in a dark coat, pale blue locks brushing the top of his collar, sunlight glinting off of his wire-framed glasses.
'Well well well…guess we're going to have our little chat sooner than I'd thought…High Commander…' Daiichi alone, though, heard Dark's comment, and responded in whispered confusion.
"High Commander…? This guy?"
The man strode forward in measured pace, and when he was within a few yards, Daiichi recognized him as the man who'd come to their house the previous night…the man who'd come because of his daughter…He stopped a couple of feet away from Daiichi and stared down, face a blank mask.
"You are Niwa Daisuke's son, are you not?" The man's voice was cold and clipped; yesterday he'd not had this composure, Daiichi recalled—rather, he'd had trouble even standing upright for some reason.
Daiichi caught himself, "Y-yes sir," he replied meekly. "Niwa Daiichi, sir."
The stern face staring down at him softened a bit, as if he were pitying the timid boy, and Satoshi reminded him gently, "There's really no need for you to be so formal with me, Daiichi-kun. I can assure you that thing inside of you won't be formal at all when it comes to speaking about me. I believe he has a rather colorful repertoire of words he used frequently in my presence."
Daiichi's eyes widened a bit at this and he relaxed slightly, "Then you…you really do know…about Dark?"
Another smile, and he appeared to shake a little with silent laughter. "More than you can comprehend." He twitched his head slightly, as if something had gotten in his eyes, and squeezed them shut, then continued, "But, I'll make this short—I've only come to warn you to be careful—both of you. After this meeting, you and I—or rather, Dark and I—will become enemies, just as before. I came to tell you to be sure and keep your head around Kara, don't get too close—for your own sake. I can't go around erasing memories left and right every time you happen to slip up and transform in front of others. I modified Kara's memory this once, for her sake mainly—but consider it your one freebie, my parting gift to you, Niwa Daiichi.
"As for you, Dark—" He now directed his words to the thief, "—You take care of this boy, he's in your charge now. I trust you realize what's going to happen to the artworks now that your seal has been broken. This afternoon I will reassume my position at police headquarters as Commander in charge of your capture. That means I'll be waiting for you, however you may choose to arrive. I may have been on good terms with your former host, but I still am, above anything else, a Hikari clan member, bound to protect its property.
"Dark—that boy is not Daisuke. He doesn't know anything—"
"Hey!" Daiichi interrupted, slightly peeved at the accusation, "I know things! I know lots of things—"
"Dark," Satoshi continued, ignoring the interruption, "Your own skills are all you have to rely on, do you understand that? You can't pull any of the stunts you did twenty years ago and depend on the boy to get you out of tight spots on his own merit—he is not a phantom thief. As I did with Daisuke, I will not threaten you or him outside of your little smash-and-grab jobs…but I warn you, if you slip up, I cannot be responsible for the consequences." His eyes narrowed to tiny slits. "So don't slip up."
Daiichi gulped nervously, about to turn and make a dash away from Satoshi's frightening gaze, when Dark's voice echoed a loud command in his skull, 'Ask him why he's telling us this…'
"He—he wants to know…why you're telling us this, why you're warning us. He says a true Hikari would never help a Niwa without some ulterior motive…"
A twisted smile eased onto Satoshi's lips, "Always the skeptic, weren't you Dark? But…there is no catch on my part—"
"He says you're lying," Daiichi interrupted again, tone flat and without accusation, merely relaying the message with startling calm. "He says there's no way that guy would let you come talk to us without making some attempt on my life."
"That guy? Ah…well, I did say there was no catch on my part. But you are correct, normally he wouldn't let me hold a civil conversation like this without trying to manifest. So he agreed to allow me to come out here unhindered…under one condition."
"…What's the condition?"
"Under the condition that Dark meet him. Tomorrow night, midnight, on the roof of the Central Art Museum."
"…He says what if he refuses?"
Satoshi hesitated for a moment and looked away at the ground to the left of Daiichi's feet, as if gathering the strength to reply. "If Dark refuses the request…then I can't be responsible for what happens." A deep pause. "To you, Niwa Daiichi."
The boy felt a large lump lodge uncomfortably in his throat, and barely forced out the message, "He accepts."
"Very well, I leave you in Dark's care then. I will not see you again outside of the nights when Dark goes out to do what it is phantom thieves do best—so I wish you luck in staying alive. Farewell little Niwa." With that, Satoshi turned swiftly on his heel and marched back to the car, long black coat floating behind him as he slid in beside his daughter.
Inside the automobile, Kara studied her father carefully. "What was that about, Papa? I didn't know you knew Niwa-kun."
He smiled softly, "I simply asked him to pass a greeting along to his father and mother, since it's been so long since I've seen them."
Her eyes brightened excitedly at this revelation. "You know Niwa-kun's parents?"
He turned his head forward and instructed the driver to take them home, before replying, "…A long, long time ago…I knew them a long time ago…"
And inside his mind a smile crept across a face hidden in shadow, 'Now, see how much easier things are when we're civil with each other, Satoshi-sama?'
As soon as the long black car had pulled away from the school, Daiichi turned back towards the trolley station—then on second thought opted to walk home. The uphill journey from his house to school was not a fun one to make on foot, but going back down wasn't so bad. As he trudged along, he once again took up a mental conversation with his new alter ego.
"Well, I don't guess that went so badly…at least Hiwatari-san didn't find out about me, so I can act normal around her again!"
'Normal? Hello—remember? Phantom thief, encoded into your DNA? Pops up whenever you think a little too much about this girl? Now, not that I wouldn't love to make special guest appearances every now and then whenever you feel like letting me stretch my limbs—please, don't hesitate. However, I do have a bit of a problem with you getting us into trouble by forgetting about me. So take my advice and stay away from her; and I'm not just talking about for the sake of not transforming.'
"Wha—stay away from her?! I…I can't do that! Hey—did you ever tell my dad to stay away from whoever it was he liked?" No response. "Then don't try and tell me if I can or can't be around Hiwatari-san. I can handle myself, alright?" At his last statement, though, Daiichi backed off, fearing he'd come across too harsh, and wanted to apologize—however, whatever pride he'd inherited from Riku prevented him from doing so, so he instead opted to not open his big mouth again the rest of the way home.
"I'm home!" he called into the seemingly empty house, shutting the door behind him as he entered and removed his shoes. "Dad?"
"In here," called a voice from the living room, and he peeked into the den area to see his father poring over a newspaper, a serious expression painted on his features, with his mother seated beside him—her face, though, could only be described as pissed, with her arms folded across her chest and an angry pout on her lips. Daisuke looked up a moment later and motioned for his son to enter and sit on the loveseat across from them. He then folded up the paper and set it on the coffee table in front of him, then leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees with his chin in his hands.
"Daiichi…Dark…there's something your mother and I need to discuss with you…"
'Ooh, do tell, Mom…' Dark quipped slyly, earning himself a harsh "Shh!" from Daiichi.
"Actually your father is the only one who wants to discuss it—I think I've made it very clear that I'm against this—"
Daisuke regarded her with a swift "Riku-san, please…" then turned back to his son. "Daiichi, Dark…is a phantom thief, a kaitou, do you know what that is?" The boy thought for a moment and then realized that though he'd heard the term used quite often in reference to Dark, he didn't really understand what it implied, so he shook his head, and Daisuke sighed. "Dark's job is to steal any Hikari artwork he can get his hands on and then subsequently seal away the magic inherently present in it endowed by its creator—if he doesn't do this, the magic will get out of control and seek alternate routes to release it—usually destructive routes. The original Hikari artists could control this magic—after all, they supplied it, but as the artworks were disseminated over time and the artists died off, it became destructive. So Dark tracks down these artworks and uses his own powers to seal them. That's what he does. That's what he's always done, for all the years he's been a part of the Niwa family. My grandfather was a thief, I was a thief…and now you, Daiichi, must become one as well."
His jaw dropped. "A…thief? You want me to go out and steal stuff?! Are you crazy?" Daisuke's face was still quite serious, and it was obvious he was definitely not joking. "Dad—what are you saying? I mean, I can't—I can't just go out and steal paintings and stuff just because that's what's been done before—for one thing it's wrong."
"Daiichi, if you don't do this, if Dark doesn't do this, then the artworks will begin to decay and leak magic into unsuspecting receptors, and the magic in turn will be turned to harmful ends. It's not a matter of wanting to do this, and it's not a matter of morals—I've already explained this to your mother. Being a phantom thief is about duty, about helping, about saving—you simply do it all by stealing. With Dark unsealed, then the magic is active once more in the artworks, calling him. Ask him, he'll tell you I'm telling the truth, because he can feel it as well."
Daiichi flashed back to his earlier talk with Satoshi: "I trust you realize what's going to happen to the artworks now that your seal has been broken."
"I still don't understand…" Riku's voice interrupted his thoughts, "…why we're even worrying about this anyway, Daisuke-kun. You said you talking to Hiwatari-kun, right? So then, that Dark's not even going to be here for very long—as soon as you two figure out just how this all happened, everything's going to go back to normal. And in the meantime I don't want my only son learning how to pick locks and dodge the police—!"
"Riku-san, it's not…that simple. Dark isn't some disease you can cure with a pill and a week's bed rest, and he's not some switch you can turn on and off—he's a living breathing being, with thoughts and feelings and—and purpose." He turned his ruby eyes to his son, and behind them could be detected the Daisuke from twenty years beforehand—the Daisuke who still missed Dark, the Daisuke who, in truth, envied his son a little bit. "Hiwatari-kun and I are trying to figure out how this all happened—he's going through every book on sealing magic he can get his hands on, and I'm trying to get in touch with my mother and father to see if they've got any idea what's going on, but they're still in the Caribbean on that third honeymoon of theirs for the rest of the week at least. I don't think anyone wants to get this sorted out as much as Hiwatari-kun does—but it's going to take time. And the artworks won't wait."
'Is…is all that true?' Daiichi tested, almost fearful of the answer.
'Afraid so kid. It's my job, my duty, and my pleasure to take things from those stuck-up Hikaris—always has been. Daisuke's right, though, I have to do it…So will you help?'
The boy closed his eyes and rubbed his hands over them, suddenly very tired from being bombarded with all these questions and "you have to do this" situations. He really didn't want to resort to something as demeaning as thievery—after all, it was just plain wrong! It was…it was…
'If it makes you feel any better, Daiichi…your dad didn't want to do it at first either.'
'What?…He didn't?'
'But he eventually did agree—not for me, not for his family honor, but because it was a way to help. Daisuke was…he was something else. I don't think he really knew why he agreed to become a phantom thief at first, but after a while he realized that it wasn't just about stealing Hikari artworks—nothing's that simple in this family. There's something more, something deeper…something you can only find when you do it…'
Daiichi gulped, then sighed low, acquiescing at last. "I…I'll do it." His father looked over, eyes hopeful. "I'll…be a phantom thief with Dark."
Daisuke smiled wearily, as if he too were tired out from the ordeal. "Thank you…Daiichi-chan."
'Wh—where am I?' Wait… 'Why can't I talk? Hello?…Dark? Hey—Dark!'
Daiichi turned his head this way and that, searching his surroundings—his first clue that something was wrong should have been the fact that he couldn't see anything. Everywhere was an inky black impenetrable darkness—he couldn't even see his own hand in front of his face.
Suddenly, though, before he could question any further, everything exploded in a brilliant flash of white hot light, and he could almost feel his own eyes burning in pain, blinking away tears as he raised his arms in front of him—he could see now!
Wait—no…this was different…it was like…it was like how it had been when he'd transformed into Dark in front of Hiwatari-san! He could see, hear, smell, feel…but it wasn't as if they were really his senses. It was like sitting in the back of an empty movie theater with the reel playing just for him—he could watch it all go by from his safe seat, indirectly experiencing it all. So…
'A dream…? Well, I mean, what else could it be? It has to be a dream…Dark?' Still the phantom thief would not answer, and this worried him a bit. Could Dark not see his dreams? Should he appreciate this as the one moment in his new life where he could finally be alone with his thoughts?
Whatever was going on, he could tell that his body was lying on the ground, flat on his back, spread eagle and completely helpless. The flash of light had died away, and the sky stretching endlessly above him was the deep violet of evening, saturated with the reflected city lights from below. Bits of sharp gravel were digging into his back, hardly protected by the thin fabric of the outfit he was wearing.
Though he couldn't move his head, he heard slow steady footsteps approaching from somewhere behind him, hidden from view at the angle he was lying, but soon it came into his line of sight—tall, dressed in a white cloak, with golden hair that reached nearly to the ground despite its being pulled into a ponytail. Immaculate boots stopped an inch from his head and he could do nothing but peer up at the smiling face.
"Aah…hiding behind that tamer of yours still? Will you not come out and face me properly, or have I alarmed you so much that you find it undesirable to face me now?" Even if Daiichi had wanted to reply, his mouth would not move no matter how he tried—but it appeared the figure didn't really care in the least if he replied or not. "I see…then, a parting gift, from the Hikaris to the Niwas."
For a split second, Daiichi's eye was drawn to the figure's gloved hands as they wrapped snugly around the hilt of a gleaming golden sword, moonlight glinting off the blade as it was swung high over the man's head. And his final thought was only, 'How beautiful…' before the slashing edge dropped like a golden guillotine and cleaved the helpless boy in two at his waist. Every nerve ending burned with pain and seared his consciousness, drawing out a pitiable howl of mixed shock and horror as he registered the action.
A dream—a dream—NO! This was no dream—this couldn't be a dream! No dream could hurt like this, no—no—no—!
"NO!" he screamed like a banshee, shooting straight up and twisting himself until he was nearly being strangled by his own sheets, clawing and scratching at his pillowcase. Within a matter of seconds Riku and Daisuke came running in to find out what had happened.
But someone had already beaten them to it—Dark. He'd borne witness to the entire dream sequence and was more than familiar with what his host had just experienced, and was frantically trying to direct the terror-stricken boy's wild thoughts.
'Daiichi—Daiichi, listen to me—'
"Daiichi! What happened?! Honey, what's wrong—what is it?"
"Daiichi—are you alright? Daiichi! Answer us!"
He whimpered pathetically and clamped his hands over his ears, squeezing his eyes shut to try and keep the tears of pain and panic from leaking out and betraying him. His entire body was shaking like a leaf, his face white as the very sheets he was cocooned in, and above anything else he was aware that he was very, very cold.
His parents moved to question him again, their worry mounting by the second, but once again they were beaten by the one voice which couldn't be blocked.
'Listen to me kid—tell them it was a dream, tell them all that happened was you had a bad dream.' Daiichi didn't reply mentally or physically. 'TELL THEM! Tell them now Daiichi—I don't care how you get them out but do it, and do not tell them what you saw.'
Another silent, tension-filled few seconds passed before he opened his mouth, quivering out a feeble, "S-sorry…it was…I had a dream…just a bad dream…I'm alright n-now…"
The two parents exchanged dubious looks. "Are you sure, Daiichi-chan…? You just…you scared us, is all—do you wanna tell us what happened—?"
'NO!'
"No! I—no…no, it's alright, I just…wanna go back to bed now…I'll be fine…really." As unconvincing as this assurance was, Daisuke and Riku seemed faced with no other choice than to leave their son to his own devices. After wishing him goodnight and urging him to have better dreams, they exited the darkened room, shutting the door behind him.
"D-Dark…what the hell was that?!"
'You saw…one of my memories. I—I'm sorry…I didn't mean for you to see that…'
"Your memories?" Daiichi hissed angrily, untangling himself from his covers as he searched for a more comfortable position, still shaking involuntarily. "You mean I have to live with your memories too?!"
'No…in fact you're not supposed to be able to see them at all…I slipped up and dropped my shield, I'm—I swear it won't happen again…There's no reason you should have had to see that…'
Slumping back down against his pillow, palms cradling his head as he stared up to the ceiling, Daiichi sighed low and tried to consciously slow down his still-racing heart rate. "…Where did that kind of memory come from anyway? I…I couldn't understand any of it…"
'I'm not surprised—it was from one of my first incarnations. Niwa Ryuichi. He was…he was a good kid, really shy and quiet, kinda like Daisuke, but even more so. I guess I could compare him to Daiki, Daisuke's grandfather, but you didn't know him, did you?' Daiichi shook his head. 'I was…I did something very, very stupid, and I paid for it with my life.'
"Your…life? Who…" He paused, wondering at the sensitivity of such a subject.
'Who killed me, you wanna ask? I would've thought you'd have been able to guess, from your dad's talk last night and our meeting with Hiwatari this afternoon.
'It was nearly three hundred years ago, the Edo period…I guess you could say I was young and stupid, even though I looked exactly like I do now. But my mind wasn't in the right place—I was reckless and thought I was invincible. I didn't regard him as a serious threat…Krad.'
"Krad…I remember Dad mentioning him…"
'I'd made some moves I thought would throw him off and let me escape without much problem, but I miscalculated an important factor and he had me up against a wall—with no way out. He'd already deprived me of my wings, and I never carry around any weapons or anything like that, so I was completely helpless…
'I knew…I knew he wouldn't let me go…so I made myself change back into Ryuichi, banking on the fact that he'd just give up when he couldn't get me—to just get my host would be beneath him…I was sorely mistaken. Like I said, I underestimated him, and when I didn't change back…He used that sword—the Toki no Kusabi…it's actually one of their own artpieces, you know, so I guess he had some kind of affinity for it.
'But I…all I can remember after I saw him draw that sword…was Ryuichi screaming for me to help him, to come back out and fight Krad…that he—that he didn't want to die. He was begging, begging with all his life, even up to the final moments…and all I could do was watch—watch the blood pouring out, draining his life…knowing deep down that I would be coming back, that this was just a setback for another few years…but that he wouldn't.
'We can be reborn, Krad and me…our hosts can't.'
"…That's the memory I saw? You actually keep a memory like that, of your host dying?"
'I keep a memory like that to always remind me of what will happen when I get too cocky around that guy—'
"And that's who Hiwatari wants you to meet tomorrow?! That's what he meant when he told you the condition earlier? That—that thing that killed Niwa Ryuichi?!"
'Yes.' His tone was not defensive in the least, but rather flat and with a "there's nothing you can do about it now, so stop whining" air.
"And you just agreed without a second thought to walk right into a meeting with him?! Without even asking me?! This is my body too, you know!"
'First of all, understand that you didn't even know who the 'he' was that Hiwatari and I were talking about, and there was no way to explain it to you in that short amount of time. And even if I had asked your opinion—would you have agreed?"
"Hell no."
'Then there's your answer. I had to agree to meet him without explaining to you—'
"Why?!"
'Because if I didn't he would've killed you right then!'
Not surprisingly, Daiichi had no immediate response to this revelation. "Wha…what are you talking about? Why would he want to kill me—I thought it was you he was after!"
'He uses you to get to me—kill one and the other dies. If you die I die, if I die you die. Either way fulfils his purpose—'
"You're telling me he's gonna come after me?!"
'Not if Hiwatari can help it—he won't come after you outside of our thieving jobs. If he could control himself when Daisuke was my host, he shouldn't have any trouble controlling himself now.'
"Shouldn't…why am I disinclined to believe you? I…I didn't agree to risking my life, Dark! I agreed to help you seal away some stupid paintings and statues—not this. You may have an eternity to live, but me, I'm just a fourteen-year-old kid who's trying to get a girl he likes to notice the real him. This is…no! I can't do this! I'm not gonna die for—"
'You're right, Daiichi—you're not going to die, understand? Not so long as I can help it—that memory, it was just a dream for you. You won't see it, experience it, remember it well beyond this day—though I'm sorry to say that, being one of my memories, it won't ever completely leave you. But me, I have to see it every single day—I will never be able to drown out Ryuichi's cries, nor will I ever get rid of the guilt. That's the downside to being a demi-immortal.
'All I can do is solemnly swear that it will never happen again—Daiichi. I will not let that happen to you, it's my duty to protect you as my Niwa host.'
Daiichi curled up into a fetal position, eyes half-lidded with fatigue, a hand unconsciously rubbing his abdomen, which he would still swear was slit open. Pulling the sheets up over him and clenching his eyes shut, he murmured, "I…Dark, I don't…" Why…why was he acting so childish? He shouldn't be so scared, it was just a dream…just a dream!
'Daiichi.' His eyes opened slightly, tiny quivering slits. 'On my honor as a phantom thief, I will not let him hurt you.'
A sad smile, and Daiichi couldn't help but retort softly, "I thought there was no honor among thieves…"
In a corner of the boy's mind, Dark too smiled, glad that he appeared to trust him a bit more. 'Maybe—but I'm a phantom thief.'
Post Chapter notes: Alright, yes, this chapter is out REALLY quickly, think of it as an apology for taking so long on the last one. However, I noticed I didn't really get a whole lot done action-wise in this chapter, and that may be because this isn't so much an action fic. And Krad made his semi-entrance here, like I said, but…Next chapter: naturally, the big reunion between our boys Dark and Krad (can we possibly expect some civility out of Krad? Yeah right…), more Sato/Krad tension, and of course we can't forget our Daiichi/Kara moments as well—and just who is going to make Dark transform back to Daiichi? Mwahahahaaa….wait and see ^_^. Also, the next chapter may have some heavy manga spoilers, so if you don't want to be spoiled (you know you do though!), beware!—sage
