So Satoshi had reluctantly looked inward, searching for his alter ego. They hadn't talked, they hadn't so much as looked at each other. Krad had existed in the back of his mind, a shadow, and Satoshi had fortified his mind should an attack happen one day.
It had never come.
Now he stared at the wavering spark, noticed the gray edges to the formerly so brilliant amber light. Krad didn't move, didn't even flinch, was almost apathic.
Satoshi came closer.
Wary, careful, he came closer.
It could be a trap to lure him closer, to strike.
Nothing happened.
From one second to the next he stood in a mind-place he hadn't been in before. It was like looking through a screen, seeing something he couldn't enter. In front of him knelt two people, one of them his demon, the other Dark. Dark had had wrapped himself around the other, protective, soothing... comforting. Black wings enfolded the white form, almost completely covering him, and there were only a few stray blond strands visible, along with a pale hand clutching the kaitou's black clothing.
Satoshi felt a flash of... jealousy? It was squelched quickly. Why should he be jealous? Krad was his nightmare, his curse...
But he also felt pain. He had been used and abused, he had been suppressed and twice they had tried to exorcise him. Satoshi had had no idea... he had never thought of Krad as more than an evil spirit, a malevolent, homicidal maniac... without feelings, without a heart...
Violet eyes suddenly looked up and Satoshi found himself fixed by Dark's gaze. Warmth emaneted from the kaitou. Warmth and comfort and security. His hands were stroking over Krad in a calming pattern, never faltering.
"Do you want to know?" Dark asked.
Satoshi nodded despite a part of himself screaming that he didn't. "Yes."
White.
He was floating in a world that was utterly, entirely white. He
reached out like he had used to do in the past, reached out for the other
presence that had been with him since he was able to think, the other presence
that completed him, made him who he was, the other presence that used to
resonate deep within him as he used to echo in it.
He felt only white.
There was no welcome resonance, no reply, no reaction.
Only white.
And then he remembered.
Remembered the sudden impact of another one, of something new and
unknown, touching them – and the unexpected pain of something slicing into
him, snatching him, tearing him apart, desperate struggle, agony, reaching
out for his other half only to find it being wrenched away, leaving him
alone.
Alone … ?
Disorientation and dizziness set in and he crumbled into himself,
reaching out with all he had in one final effort to find … what?
Something blinked.
He latched onto the little spark he had found, tried to wrap himself
around the warm yet unknown presence, only to be warded off as it shied
away in shock.
'Who are you?'
The question sang in his mind and he realized the living spark he
had sensed earlier had returned, approaching him carefully, warily.
'Who are you?'
I don't know …
'Where are you?'
… I don't know …
'What are you?'
…I don't know! …
He felt like crying when it occurred to him that he had no idea,
who he was or even what he was, where he had come from and … where was
his missing piece? Why was he here in the first place? He folded his long
white wings around himself
-- 'white wings??'
and curled up, a small lost noise escaping him.
Warmth wrapped around him, astonishment, curiosity and care flooded
him, and he flinched only to be held closer.
'You are Krad … '
Krad?
'My soul … the part I put into the Black Wings. You are alive.'
Am I?
'Yes, you are'
Slowly Krad unfolded his wings, allowed himself to be surrounded
by the sparkle he had found, allowed himself to be held, and clung to the
soothing presence in return.
Who are you?
'Hiwatari Satoshi. I'm your … host.'
Host … ?
'Looks like it. '
Where am I? What is this place?
'Let's find out together, huh?'
The first time Krad looked into the world he didn't even a remote
idea of what was waiting for him. Satoshi let him look through his eyes,
let him hear through his ears, experience all the small things his world
had to offer, like feeling the warm summer rain on his face, or see the
sun set into the ocean. Krad felt as if he was stumbling from one miracle
into another, and he watched it with increasing interest and hunger. And
one night when his host was asleep his curiosity got the better of him.
He had seen a wonderful thing today – a blooming garden – and Satoshi had
told him about the stars. Krad longed to see those stars, wanted to know
if it would be anything like the jasmine blossoms Satoshi had given him
to smell. His host was an artist and had described the world to him, but
he wanted to see it on his own. He wanted out. Badly. So he carefully pushed
himself to the forefront and, noticing no resistance, a little further.
Golden eyes opened and blinked in the semi-darkness of the room
he found himself in. Lifting his hands – since when did he have hands?
– he noticed the long fingers, the slender wrist and the smooth skin that
definitely didn't belong to his host. Testing the movements he balled them
into fists, feeling the way the skin stretched or the nails scraped over
the palms. He could feel it. Inhaling deeply he realized there was even
more – a faint scent he came to recognize as paint, a little dusty smell
of stone and tools. Feathers rustled as he turned and his wings pushed
against a statuette, almost knocking it off its pedestal.
Wings?
He remembered having wings.
Carefully moving around the room he slowly slid open the door to
the garden, gazing out into the night. Lifting his head toward the sky
he stood stunned. It was dark outside, yes, but there were millions of
sparkles glittering on the velvety blue like little diamonds, forming a
band that wove over the sky. Stars. These were the stars Satoshi had told
him about – and gods, they were beautiful. Stepping into the garden Krad
felt a cool breeze on his face, ruffling his feathers and lifting his wings
gently.
Spreading them he felt the tugging of the wind increase, as did
his longing. A shadow rushed over him, and looking up he saw what appeared
to be a large dark bird, an equally winged being, against the starlit sky.
Dark … It called to him.
He spread his wings again and leapt, riding on the wind that took
hold of him, lifting him higher and higher into the night. Joy exploded
in his chest and he folded his wings a little, experimenting with the breeze,
the ups and downs, gliding or flapping, increasing or decreasing speed
and altitude.
'Krad? What are you doing?'
Satoshi had woken inside of him, he could feel the presence of his
host stir against his own consciousness.
I'm flying…
"I'm flying!"
Krad laughed with the sheer joy of just being alive. As did Satoshi.
'Krad … '
The little blue spark that was Satoshi called out for him, flickering
as Krad wrapped his being around it, holding it in the safety of his wings,
trying to protect it against whatever was trying to get to his host, whatever
was trying to do him harm.
Satoshi?
'Krad … '
The flicker increased as the brightness of the little spark lessened.
Satoshi was fighting to breathe, he could hear the effort he was putting
into sucking in small amounts of air into his lungs as his heart stumbled.
Satoshi? What's wrong?
'Krad … I'm sorry … I lo …'
The flicker diminished and died, leaving his hands empty.
Satoshi? Satoshi!!
There was no reply, not even a faint echo. And for the first time
in his life Krad was truly alone.
He cried.
Krad had no idea how much time had gone by, for in his white prison
there was nothing except for himself. He reached out every now and then,
calling, crying, but he didn't receive an answer. He lay curled up into
himself and waited.
Waited for something he had no idea if it would ever happened.
He tried to sleep, closing his eyes against the ever present whiteness,
and drifted away, but he wouldn't go to sleep completely.
And then, just when he was about to lose all hope, it blinked again.
A little blue sparkle, not unlike the one Satoshi had been.
This time Krad approached it carefully, despite his own desperation
for contact, because he remembered the first reaction Satoshi had shown.
The spark shied away nonetheless.
Krad left it alone for awhile, just observing it, dearly hoping
it wouldn't go away again and he would be able to talk to someone again.
The next attempt made the spark, which was his new host he assumed, flinch
away violently, and Krad almost cried in disappointment.
Please, he pleaded, don't push me away. Tell me who you are. Please?
But he received no answer.
A little later Krad tried again, and this time the spark lashed out,
hitting him back painfully.
Who are you? Why do you hurt me?
'Demon!'
What's a demon?
'You are! You are a curse, sent to me by the devils. You possess
me, and you need to be exorcised. You need to be cut out of my mind like
a foreign body needs to be cut out of flesh.'
The sheer hatred in those words made Krad fly back in shock, and
he started to tremble, feeling the need to approach again fighting against
the fear he was feeling.
Need won.
…
'Demon! Get out of me!'
I can't. I don't know how. Please, help me. Who are you? Where is
Satoshi?
'Do you have a name?'
Satoshi called me Krad.
'Then, demon Krad, know that my ancestor Satoshi died thirty years
ago as a mad man.'
Krad flinched. Satoshi had died? What did that mean?
'Cease to exist. Thanks to you, demon. But you won't get me. Die!'
And then the pain began.
Krad screamed.
He was lying on the white ground, his vision blurry, and he shook
with the aftermaths of whatever had been done to him. His host had not
only rejected him, but shoved him away and obviously tried to rip him apart,
if the agony he still felt was an indicator. He hurt. Not only his body
but his very existence. His wings lay limp and broken against the ground,
and white hot spears of pain were still embedded into his body, melting
only slowly away. Even if he had had the energy right now to approach his
host again he wouldn't dare to.
Confusion reigned inside him. He didn't understand what he had done,
why he was punished this way.
His mind was still that of a child, the world still new to him,
and this didn't make any sense to him. So all he could do was watch the
spark from afar. Until it died.
And Krad was alone again.
When he felt the flicker of a new existence he didn't approach it
at first. Too fresh was the memory of the pain his last host had inflicted
on him for doing so. So he watched, longing and needing, but too scared.
But contact was inevitable.
His host didn't reject him at first and Krad cheered inwardly at
the new chance, the new life he had been given. He learned that the man
who carried him went by the name of Karu and was an artist, too. Karu wasn't
as friendly as Satoshi had been, snapping at him every now and then, but
that changed when he took him on their first flight. Karu then asked
him if he were a true demon, he should possess magic as well.
Krad wasn't able to grasp the concept at first, but Karu let him
read some old scrolls and Krad understood that indeed he seemed to be a
magical being. Karu was enthusiastic at the possibilities that occurred,
and Krad was pleased at that.
That was right before the chains came.
Out of nowhere, burning with the same intensity he already recognized
as the pain that had tortured him once, the blazing silvery chains wrapped
themselves around his body, effectively trapping his wings and pinning
him to the ground. Krad screamed and fought, but with every move the chains
would tighten, the pain would increase.
'Stop fighting.'
Why? Karu? Why are you doing this?
'Stop fighting and it will stop hurting.'
Krad stilled, breathing hard, but indeed the pain lessened to a
throbbing in the background, and the chains loosened around him, allowing
him slight movement.
'These chains will hold you, demon. You are not to bother me, until
I say so.'
Karu? Krad heard himself whimper.
But his host didn't answer. He was released every now and then.
He tried to escape, tried to take over, but only once. The chains kept
holding him back, and the more he fought the tighter his prison would become,
burning his skin, ripping his flesh apart and breaking his delicate wings,
until he would stop.
And the spark died, leaving him behind.
Only this time he was chained.
…
'Demon'
…
'Monster'
…
'Useful tool'
…
Krad had given up on counting what he was called by his hosts, some
of them were friendlier than others, giving him a little freedom if he
was 'playing nice', some of them totally ignoring them until they ceased
to exist.
Some hated him with a vengeance, but all of them used – and abused
– him. He never really stopped fighting, but slowly something inside of
him changed.
Krad started to loathe.
And then he learned about the existence of his missing piece.
And he remembered.
Dark wings against a nightly sky, calling out to him … wind lifting
him up, playing with his hair … the pure joy of being alive … Dark…
And Krad started to hate with a vengeance.