Krad had jolted in alarm the moment Satoshi's fists had collided with the mirror, cutting himself so mercilessly and apparently without the intent to stop. In growing horror he watched his host stare at himself in the mirror, his mind strangely blank except for the rising desperation.
And then he reached for the broken piece of mirror glass, intent to cut his throat.
Krad surged forward, snatching control of the human host and stopping the self-destructive, the suicidal move.
--NO!-- he commanded, seizing that hand and guiding it away from the vulnerable throat.
Satoshi gave a sob of fear and desperation, fighting him, his mind flailing at him.
--No-- he breathed. --No, Satoshi, please don't. No…--
His host moaned softly, striking out weakly, barely strong enough to even scratch the surface of Krad's mind. The demon caught the strike and let it dissolve.
--No. Don't, Satoshi. Please...--
Satoshi crumbled onto the ground, breath hitching briefly, then sliding off into unconsciousness. Krad sat back for a moment, torn between two possibilities and taking the hopefully best one.
He separated himself from his human host as he had done just once before, even if not by choice. He would have no chance to help Satoshi by taking over his form. The damage to the body was too extensive and even a brief take-over would have no effects. So he knelt down next to the young man and took in the damage, the bleeding palms and knuckles, the smear of blood against his throat.
"Oh, Satoshi..." he whispered sadly.
Cradling the tall but way too light form against him, Krad walked into the bedroom and carefully lay down the young man. He proceeded to thoroughly clean the cut hands of the glass and blood, then bandaged them lightly. He did the same for the cut on the throat, which was long, but shallow. Krad knew about the first aid procedures from his host, who had a license. It was so easy to access memories if he wanted to and this time he was glad he had done so. Finally Krad removed the bloody shirt and drew a blanket over Satoshi who hadn't woken throughout the procedure.
The demon looked down at his host, the very soul he was bound to, and a sad smile creased his lips. He was the reason for the self-destructive behavior. He had driven Satoshi to such extremes because deep down inside that grown-up body, the child still feared him. He had left scars on his psyche.
"I never wanted that," he murmured and brushed back long strands of light brown hair. "I only wanted you to be mine. You were all I could have, all the warmth I could ever find…"
And he had lost it. He had lost Satoshi and everything associated with that perception of freedom.
"I'll protect you. You're mine," he murmured, never stopping his caress. "And you're everything to Daisuke…"
It was the first time he admitted to himself that he shared Satoshi, but Daisuke was no rival. He loved this young man in a different way, held a different part of him inside his soul.
"I won't let you hurt yourself. I need you. Daisuke needs you."
They each needed Satoshi whole and healthy and complete… and Krad would do everything in his powers to fulfill his promise.

His host slept for the next twelve hours and Krad did little more than sit in a chair, watch the rise and fall of Satoshi's chest. He watched him move in his sleep, murmur now and then, then slide off into deeper sleep once more. When the phone rang it almost gave him a heart attack, though he lacked that particular organ. He was a magical being.
Looking down at the phone, he finally picked it up.
"Satoshi?"
It was Daisuke. Across miles and miles of oceans and continents. Of course, it was the usual time they talked to each other and Satoshi had already missed one call. Niwa was probably worried and duly so, but Krad was reluctant to talk about the extent of the events.
"No," he simply answered.
There was a moment of silence. Then, "Krad?!"
"Yes." He smirked a little, letting that smirk drip into his voice. "Hello, Niwa."
"What happened to Satoshi? Where is he?" the young man demanded. "What have you done to him?!"
What have I done? I exist, Niwa. That simple. It takes nothing more than that.
"There was an accident. He's currently asleep. I think it would be best if you returned, Niwa."
Another silence. "What fuck happened, Krad?" Daisuke whispered.
"As I said, there was an accident. He needs you."
Daisuke inhaled shakily. "I'll get the next flight I can get," he finally said. "Just…"
"I'll take care of him," Krad promised. It was an easily given promise because he would.
"My parents…"
"Haven't been informed. I think their reaction would be… less than kind and the damage would be even worse."
Another shaky breath of air. "Is he in a hospital?"
"No, I took care of the injuries. It's not the physical wounds that are worrying either, Niwa."
Daisuke understood the implications, sighing. It was more like a moan anyway.
"Okay… okay…" he murmured. "Lemme talk to Yamamato-sensei…"
"Just hurry," Krad said, voice softening but still urgent.
"I will."
With that he hung up. Krad gazed at the receiver, then placed it gently back into the cradle. His eyes strayed to the direction of the bedroom and he was on his way to his host before he could even think the thought.

Satoshi woke to a blinding headache, nausea, and the feeling that someone was trying to split him apart. He was cold, dizzy, and everything was so absolutely miserable.
Lying in his bed, he wondered when he had made it here. Faint stings from his hands and throat made him lift one hand and he stared at the white bandages.
What…?
And then he remembered.
He touched his throat where a band-aid covered the cut, then studied the bandages again. He surely hadn't done that himself. Satoshi only recalled smashing the mirror, taking the glass shards and…
He swallowed.
There had been the brief pain, the wish to end it all, then the all-encompassing tear of another being taking him over. Krad… Krad had… He had?
Satoshi managed to sit up, though dizziness immediately assailed him. He closed his eyes, swallowing frantically, riding out the nausea. When he finally opened his eyes, they fell on a thermos and a mug. There was no note, nothing. Just the hot liquid for him to drink and when shaking fingers opened the thermos, he smelled instant soup.
What…?
He turned to the entity inside him but found no trace of Krad in his consciousness.
He was gone.

It took him over an hour to make it out of bed, walk into the bathroom, follow the call of nature, wash up a little, though it was painful with his cut hands, and finally dress. By the time he was done, he was dead on his feet once more and simply collapsed, fully clothed, onto the bed.
Satoshi drifted off into a doze and woke again three hours later, feeling marginally better. There was a lingering dream, someone gently caressing him, running tender fingers through his hair and over his skin, whispering softly. He pushed that dream aside and attempted to leave the bedroom again.
He made it to the living room where he found no traces of the prior mess. Everything was neat and clean, though not sterile. It just appeared to be orderly once more. Confused, he looked around and froze as he discovered the tall, white-clad figure in the doorway to the kitchen.
All blood left Satoshi's face and he froze. "You," he whispered.
"I see you're up," Krad said levelly.
"You did it… you… took over," Hikari managed, leaning against the wall, unconsciously wrapping his arms around his stomach. There was a painful tightness there and the need to vomit.
"Of course."
"Why did you stop me?" Satoshi demanded.
"You were about to hurt yourself."
"So why should you care, hm? You never did before!"
Krad approached him and Satoshi almost physically sank back further against the wall, his heart hammering in his chest. He was too weak, too confused, to face this creature here and now. He couldn't… he had no defenses left.
"I care for you," Krad repeated what he had said so many times before. "You're mine, Hikari Satoshi."
"I'll never belong to you!"
Krad's golden eyes filled with an unreadable emotion. "But you already do. We are one and the same."
"No! I'm not you!"
"Then why did you try to hurt yourself?"
Satoshi's breathing hitched. Golden eyes looking at him from within the mirror, from within him. He screwed his eyes shut, trembling.
"I'm not like you," he murmured.
Fingers under his chin lifted his eyes to look into the golden cat-like orbs. The touch was oh so gentle, but still firm. "You are my host. I protect you, even from yourself, Satoshi."
Tears gathered in his eyes, his defenses down, his mind crying for relief. He couldn't take this, he just couldn't!
"Your body needs nourishment," Krad suddenly said, stepping back, letting go of him.
"I'm not hungry."
Actually, he felt sick to the stomach.
Krad simply ignored him as he continued, "Daisuke is coming home."
"What?! How… how do you know?"
"He called last night."
"You talked to him? On the phone?" Satoshi blurted, confusion pushing the ill feeling away for a moment.
Krad smirked. "Yes. I believe we can expect him and Dark to be here within the next twenty-four hours." With that he walked away, leaving Satoshi alone.
The young man sank down the wall, stunned. Part of him cried in joy at the prospect of his lover coming home; another was simply too horrified of what had just happened in the last few minutes to think straight.
Satoshi had no idea how long he sat there. He knew he was shaking. Lack of food, blood loss, next to no sleep, it all came together. He was dizzy, nauseous and so very, very tired still. He didn't hear anyone approach, but someone suddenly touched him drew him into a warm, strong embrace, and he fell forward. Tears were streaming down his face unchecked and he didn't care.
Something was placed against his lips and he automatically opened his mouth, feeling a warm, slightly spicy liquid run down his throat. Broth or soup… whatever. It tasted okay and his body actually craved the liquid.
He was lifted. Someone carried him. It was like in a dream and he was floating. Satoshi moaned softly as he was placed onto a mattress, as he was covered by a blanket and someone caressed his face. A voice whispered gently and he curled up, finally slipping into oblivion.