Galatea

Ninth Movement: Lessons Taught

"Much as we may wish to make a new beginning,
some part of us resists doing so,
as though we were making the first step toward disaster."

William Bridges

Satoshi hated being confused.

He hated that lukewarm, tepid state that held one prisoner of one's own thoughts. He loathed the tentative, sickening vacillation of the mind, while one decided, "Should I go down This Road, or perhaps take That Path?" And he absolutely detested weighing out possible consequences.

Staring at the image on the front page of the Azumano Weekly, he remembered just how much he hated being confused. For he had no earthly idea how to deal with the front-page story: Dark's latest advance notice.

Apparently Niwa Daisuke's period of being grounded was over, and his mother had him back in the family business. He cursed softly—those Niwas seemed to almost enjoy seeking out new ways to make his life miserable.

Letting his head sink down and rest in his palms, he sighed softly—his dilemma was one he hadn't counted on being faced with when he'd broken off his compromise with Krad.

Not that he truly regretted it—the blonde had committed an unspeakably heinous crime, had brutally murdered his foster father with what Satoshi conjectured had been maniacal glee, and hadn't even been the least bit remorseful for it, only offering weak excuses to shift the blame. Satoshi had been utterly furious, frustrated beyond words, and had sought his revenge in the only way he knew how—by tossing out their agreement that he would let his curse out to fight Dark provided Krad not kill the thief.

It had been a rash action, and one that had served its purpose—it had actually made the blonde think about what he'd done, about why he was being "punished."

Then Satoshi had to go and do something stupid like wondering aloud why Krad had killed, instead of simply writing it off as normal behavior and resolving to never cooperate with his curse again. He had to go and give the demon a chance to redeem himself…had to go and actually be surprised at the response…

Dammit…

So here he was, confused. On one hand, Krad was an arrogant bastard with homicidal tendencies who cared about precious little beyond his clan and felt that murder was a justifiable method of disposing of obstacles. On the other…Krad had been bred into the Hikari bloodline with no morals, no qualms—a perfect antithesis to the Niwas' Dark, and it was now debatable in Satoshi's mind whether or not he could be faulted for this.

He wanted to hate Krad like before—it had been so beautifully simple. Krad was Krad; hate him and fear him. Dark was Dark; respect him and fight him. Make no deals with Krad and you won't be backstabbed. Don't get on too friendly terms with Dark—or Dark's host, for that matter—and you won't regret having to seal him.

And he did—he did still despise Krad and his twisted logic…but now there was a niggling little bit of morality poking him from the back of his mind, as if it were Krad himself. He couldn't just blow this off, not even his own curse! Not when…they were so similar.

Both had been forced into molds, not allowed to explore their own existences and beings. The Hikari curse had been forged just as he was, living and believing the same things from generation to generation, never getting his ethics calibrated—a prisoner of his own ignorance.

Satoshi…was a prisoner of his own intelligence. And as a fellow prisoner, that meant he knew how it felt to be pigeonholed into a niche, never allowed to move freely, to explore himself and his feelings. He detested that feeling of confinement just as much as he detested being confused.

How did it feel…to Krad?

Had his curse squirmed mentally at the realization of just how wrong his actions had been? Had that tremor of guilt that had wracked his host's body actually been a byproduct of the blonde's own feelings?

Could Satoshi…should Satoshi…give him the chance…to redeem himself?

It was utterly ridiculous to even be entertaining such a notion—Krad had murdered! Hadn't shown even the slightest remorse until he'd had his compromise taken away!

But those emotions that had streamed into him at the gravesite the week before… They had been genuine—his curse had truly not understood the gravity of his crime, and didn't that mean that…that maybe he merited at least the chance to show his true self…?

…Did that mean that Satoshi actually wanted to see that true self?

'You think too much, Satoshi-sama… I cannot sleep a wink with all your chatter.'

Satoshi sat straight up, head at attention, before relaxing again after realizing the blonde had just probably been woken up by the errant brainwaves as his host debated just how to handle his current situation. He swiftly folded up the paper before Krad caught sight of it and stretched out on the couch, an arm slung over his face.

Krad settled back into his corner—he hadn't actually been asleep. He'd been contentedly eavesdropping on his Tamer's mental soliloquy with nothing short of awe and wonder. Never—never had his Satoshi-sama gifted him such deep thoughts. It thrilled him to the very core that the boy had actually considered their graveside conversation and was making a concerted effort to understand his curse better.

He desperately wanted to urge his host on, to inform him of his own decision not to hurt him anymore, and pray that such a confession might serve as recompense for his horrific crimes and enable them to start anew…but he knew that such an action would be disastrous. Satoshi needed to make this decision on his own or not at all. Noting with a frown the paper on the coffee table, he prayed it would be the former.

"…Krad, come out here." Not even his snappish order could conceal the quiver of nervousness that was laced in his voice. The blonde hastily complied, slipping into existence behind the couch to stare down at the boy, Astral pumping furiously through his anxious being. Satoshi didn't remove his arm to even see if his curse had manifested, and gave a low sigh of concession.

"…Tell me what you want to do." A pause. "Tell me now, tell me your terms, and then…tell me why I should even deign to consider your stupid request."

My, but Satoshi did seem to enjoy his position as Krad's master—in name, at least, if not always in form—from time to time. The blonde was silent in contemplation, gathering his wild thoughts and stringing them into lines of coherent conversation, then took a deep breath:

'I wish to reinstate our compromise—I wish you to allow me to fight Dark on nights he sends out his advance notices. Fight, with your permission—but not to kill. Him, or anyone else.' He was actually proud of himself for adding in as his own term that which had been Satoshi's stipulation originally. 'As to why you should consider…' The boy moved his arm away and actually looked up at Krad now, quite curious as to what pathetic excuse the being would muster.

'You shouldn't.' Dark blue eyes blinked a few times in rapid succession—that had been unexpected. 'You've no reason to make this pact with me a second time…and so I wish you to allow me to give you one—a reason to trust me. Deep down, I know, you do not truly make this accord of your own free will. You do it of a sense of obligation, so there is no reason I could possibly supply that would convince you that this is anything but a matter of just that. You hold the high ground, Satoshi-sama. I can but yield to your ultimate will.'

Satoshi blinked again and shuddered at the unusually passive attitude his curse was exhibiting. He caught himself after a moment and coolly replied, "You could just take my body as you've done in the past. When I consider it, I still see no reason for you to suggest this comprom—"

'I will do no such thing. As I said before—you may not know of my reasoning, but rest assured I do have it. Do not doubt my sincerity…please.'

The boy quickly turned his gaze away from the golden orbs boring into him, and a strange feeling that Krad had been privy to his earlier internal monologuesettled over him.

"I really don't know why I'm doing this," he lied to himself, and pressed onward with a defeated sigh. "Whatever. You have three advance notices to prove yourself—Dark's next job is on Friday evening." He shot a cold glare at Krad. "You barely lasted one notice last time—we'll see how much better you fare this go 'round."

Please don't make me regret this again…

Satoshi hated regretting, too. But at least he wasn't as confused now.

Like a some huge white wounded bird, the wings fluttered pathetically as they pummeled the air furiously to keep their master aloft, faltering every few feet and nearly sending their burden plummeting to the earth far below. Exhausted beyond mortal measure, Krad strained with what was left of his strength to push himself through the starless night sky to his resting place—the apartment, where he could find refuge and respite.

His shadow passed over the pale moon in the blink of an eye, and his fatigued form cast shadows of its own over the world sleeping below him, ignorant to the battle he'd just waged with his antithesis.

A nearly audible sigh of appreciation passed over his lips, and he almost broke down in relieved laughter when he spotted the nearing balcony he'd alighted on every time before, slipping to his knees the moment his boots settled onto the cold concrete, great white wings forming a protective tent over him.

He leaned forward and heaved in combined pain and exhaustion, completely spent. Sheer will had been all that had kept him aloft up to this point—the knowledge that any stray wind current would have ended not only his existence, but the all-too-short existence of his host as well. And it was this same host who now took the opportunity to reprimand his curse—an action he'd held off since the evening's battle, waiting until they reached Satoshi's apartment.

'I told you you shouldn't underestimate him—haven't you been paying attention at all when I fought? By now I would have thought you'd know all his moves for all the years you've been fighting him. And combined with Niwa he's got more power this incarnation. You shouldn't…' He trailed off, 'Are you even listening to me? Krad?'

"Yes…yes… Of course I'm…I'm listening…" His response was forced and flat, as if he wasn't even focusing on the words coming out of his mouth, thoughts elsewhere. The sentence was raspy and punctuated with long pauses as Krad drew in one shaky breath after another, dispirited wings stretching open and folding back in pitifully, rendering him an appearance all the more likened to a fallen angel. He hissed in pain and fell forward onto one hand, with the other clenching tightly the material over his heart, squeezing the fabric as if it were the neck of a Niwa.

'Krad, what're you—ah, AH! Wha—what'd he do to you!' The mental voice cried out, reflecting the fear and panic which had streamed from the Tamed into his astral Tamer, side effects of the peculiar wound Dark had inflicted upon his nemesis in a lucky strike, ripping out a large clump of astral threads anchored in his upper pectoral area.

It felt…Krad did not know what to liken it to in human terms…but for him, it was the equivalent of feeling the Niwa curse reach into his very soul and rip into it, wrenching off a chunk by the roots, opening him up to the cold of the world, and leaving a gaping wound behind as recompense.

"Damn Niwas…" he cursed softly, eventually mustering the strength to haul his ragged body into the sanctuary of the dark apartment, where a bed more comfortable than this cold balcony awaited. He nudged the window open with one shoulder, folding his wings close to his body before stumbling drunkenly into the bedroom, the pale moonlight his only guide. Once inside, he paused a moment and muttered a destabilizing spell, sending the wings back into the dark astral vortex he'd summoned them from, then fell, defeated, onto the mattress.

'Krad,' the familiar voice called again, having allowed his curse to settle down inside the room before pressing him for an explanation. The physical pain had been minimal—and he usually couldn't really sense the astral pain inflicted upon Krad, though the reason for this he could not explain.

But whatever Dark had done to Krad tonight, it had ruptured the phantom barrier which had been erected between himself and his curse, and when the blonde had broken down on the balcony, finally embracing the wound, he too had felt it resonate within himself. After a moment, when no response was issued him, he called again, this time a bit more urgent, 'Krad…'

Like a small child not wanting to be woken up by his parent, Krad feebly covered his ears, eyes shut tight, willing away the voice in his head. "Just…leave me be for a moment, Satoshi-sama…just for a moment… I'll be…fine…"

A moment turned to five minutes, then ten, then stretched to fifteen, until Satoshi began to wonder—from the steady peak and descent of Krad's mental waves—if his curse hadn't actually fallen asleep while regaining his strength. Just as he was about to call again, ready to have his own body back, he was saved the trouble when a weary voice spoke out to him.

"S…Satoshi-sama…" This was not the tinkling golden voice that so often grated his last nerves, not the sound that mirrored a set of high mountain wind chimes, transmitting its smile across time and space until it seared his consciousness and it was all he could think of. This voice…could not belong to Krad. It was exhausted, defeated, fragile, and ephemeral as a thought of rain on a blazing summer day. It was…so very human, that Satoshi found it difficult to respond.

'…I'm here…' What kind of reply was that? Of course he would be there, he chided himself. This fact, however, didn't seem to bother Krad, who continued on undeterred.

"Satoshi-sama…I need you to do something for me…" The voice now seemed to be pulling back to normal, waxing nervous almost, hesitant to beg a favor from his usually disinclined host. "Please."

Please? Satoshi would have laughed under any other circumstances to hear the words flow so deliciously from the lips of his curse. It was without order, without command, without any sort of jussive tone, it was…beseeching. A hint of desperation, faint hope, the entreaty to not be turned away…it was thrilling.

Or at least it would have been. As he'd said, under any other circumstances. Now…it was frightening.

'All…all right…what is it?' he tested warily, unsure of how best to respond.

He could feel Krad's body being pushed up into an upright position, could sense it leaning forward with his elbows resting shakily on his knees as he swayed unsteadily near the edge of the mattress. "I need…I need you to project an astral image of yourself…I need to see you…"

'Wha—see me? Why? And I can't project myself—only you can do th—'

"Just…listen…" He raised gloved fingers to his temples and wearily massaged himself, eyes shut tight in concentration. "I need to see the damage Dark did…but I don't have the power to turn back right now—I used too much earlier…and even if I did scrounge up enough for the transformation I couldn't pull up more to project my own image. So…I need you to do it…and you can…all hosts can. Even that Niwa boy can, if he knew how. There's usually no need for a host to learn projection, so they never do…" He stopped massaging and cracked his eyes open, staring down at the hardwood floor beneath his feet. "…I can help you, talk you through…but please…you can feel it too, it hurts…and I can't do anything about it until I know exactly what went wrong…"

Satoshi mentally gulped—this wasn't what he'd had in mind when Krad had asked for his cooperation. It was surreal, to have the tables turned this way. It was usually him sitting hunched over on the edge of the bed, entreating his curse not to interfere in any way, to leave him be; yet here he was, all but begging him for his power, for his help.

…Then, that showed how very different they both were. Satoshi responded to pressure by pressing back. And Krad…he responded by seeking aid in relieving the pressure, seeking Satoshi's aid in particular.

'I…I'll try…'

"Thank you…" was the whispered phrase of relieved gratitude.

'…That's all I have to do?' Satoshi's voice was almost incredulous as he digested Krad's carefully explained instructions, and he was returned an affirmative answer. 'So all I have to do is simply visualize myself outside of this body…and I'll project my image?'

"Do you find it that difficult a concept to grasp, Satoshi-sama? Or is it that it's too simple?" Krad could still, even as weak as he was at the moment, manage some sarcasm for his host.

The boy released a mental growl. 'It's not that—just…if it's so simple, why can't you do it right now? What were you babbling on about having to scrape together your power?'

Krad sighed, wincing at the pain in his chest as he eased to the edge of the bed, legs dangling over onto the floor. "Because it's not that simple in the doing—not for normal humans at least. You understand well that most of the inhabitants of this planet have less astral power than could fit on the head of a pin, let alone any knowledge on how to gather it, control it, mold it for their own uses. You are better off, with a considerable amount of your own thanks to your bloodline, but you too lack knowledge of how to use it. Without proper control and manipulation of it, you couldn't hold an astral image for very long—and even with control…your level won't sustain form for…I'd not wager over a minute, perhaps another thirty seconds if you strain yourself.

"Projecting yourself is a marriage of power and control: without one or the other, it is an unachievable task."

'Then…how exactly am I going to do this? You just said even if I manage the control, I won't be able to sustain it for long anyway.'

"I did say that…" he admitted, "And so, I'm going to gather what is left of my astral energies and feed them through to you, a lifeline if you will… It should be…enough. Enough to let you hold the image long enough for me to assess the damage—"

'NO!' was the cry of abject refusal from his Tamer, and Krad's eyes snapped open, concentration broken, 'No—you can't do that! Look how weak you are already! And you want to just throw more power away! No, we'll just…why can't I use what energy I have and just settle for a minute time limit? You're positive that won't be enough?'

"It's not that it wouldn't be enough…but…I've never tried it with a Tamer before… If I miscalculated, if you overdrew your powers…it could leave you broken beyond repair…and I refuse to risk that with you. I'd rather risk my existence than yours, and retain the liability for myself."

'Always were a possessive jerk…keeping all the fault for yourself,' Satoshi commented softly, but it was clear it was his failed attempt at lightening the atmosphere around the two, 'Why, though…would you do that?'

"Satoshi-sama," he began gravely, "It is both my solemn duty and fervent desire to aid my Tamer in any way I can—it has been so for three centuries."

A harsh laugh, and the boy retorted, 'I thought your purpose was to kill Dark and Niwa.'

With a grim smile lingering upon his lips, Krad corrected him. "No…that is your purpose."

There was a deep silence in his head for a moment as Satoshi processed the information, an aspect of his life he hadn't previously addressed, '…What did you say? When and where did it become my duty to kill not only Dark but Niwa as well?'

"It is your purpose, blood-asserted and flesh-confirmed, to wipe from existence that which should never have existed in the first place—namely Dark and the Niwas whose actions pulled him into being. And I aid you, lend you my power, however much you may require of me…and should you become either unable or unwilling to carry it out, I am to take it upon myself to shoulder your burden."

Satoshi's mental tone was acrid and stung Krad's already-wounded consciousness. 'Oh, a burden is it?'

Silence pervaded the darkness between them for a moment, before the blonde replied softly, "…You have no idea…"

'Alright…I think…I think I'm ready to try…'

"Satoshi-sama, there can be no 'trying' here. It is either done correctly the first time or we fail altogether. I…I cannot manage this a second time, understand that. I'm pushing my own boundaries to do it now, but you need this energy to keep the image steady, so…please, concentrate…"

The Hikari boy closed off his mind to Krad's thoughts as best he could, shutting off any interferences from the outside world, and turned his consciousness inwards to his own formless identity inside the void which was Krad's own mind. 'A form…a form…please let me get this right…' he chanted to himself softly, and his spirits lifted when a faint line flickered into view. He held onto the line for dear life as if it were a rope thrown to him during a storm at sea, and slowly began molding it.

'Like me…make it like me…just visualize my own body, and mold this line to be like me…' In his memories, he pulled up image after image of himself, pounding the line with information, 'Hiwatari Satoshi…Hikari Satoshi…this is me, make it like me, be me.'

Krad flicked his eyes open, gold flashing in the night, and registered before him the faint flickering on and off of the slender body plan of his host, astral attire appearing surprisingly too big on him, long sleeves seeming to stretch down over his thin wrists, covering his hands. After flaring in and out of existence a few more times, the image finally established a constant state and blazed brightly in the darkened room.

Satoshi barely had a few moments to look down at his newly formed astral hands before he felt control over the image slipping from his grasp, and his voice crackled, 'Krad—I can't—'

"Hold it tightly as you can, Satoshi-sama," he grunted, placing a finger on either temple and squeezing shut his eyes again. He pooled what energy he could gather quickly and fed an invisible line into the now brightly blazing image Satoshi had created.

As if attesting to the influx of a greater source of power than the Hikari boy could possibly muster, his aura spiked in brilliance and the very same feathery appendages which had recently been banished back to the astral plane by Krad resurfaced from Satoshi's back, sheltering the child in his place.

"Satoshi…sama…" Krad breathed in awe when he opened his eyes again and beheld the sidereal vision before him, and nearly whimpered in humility. He sank to his knees as if before a god, and the boy narrowed his eyes in confusion, taking a tentative step back. "If you could only see yourself…you are an angel, Satoshi-sama…"

His host's face washed free of the confusion, and instead adopted an almost innocent expression, curious now at the new body he was in, and he twisted his head to and fro to look himself over—particularly interested in the princely snow-white wings which were a full head taller than himself, even when they were bent in half at rest as they were. No—now was not the time to worry about Krad, he had to be more open, because he was vulnerable…

Allowing himself to be taken and molded and taught, to try and help one who'd been so hateful to him in the past, it was unfeasible for him to try and be the regular Satoshi he projected to everyone else… Tonight, right now…he had to be pure and uncontaminated, free from false pretenses. And so he indulged himself and behaved like a child with a new toy, fascinated with this new development.

A full minute passed before he suddenly remembered that time was not on their side for the moment—that every second wasted was another second Krad had to work to keep their line of energy flow open, and he quickly turned back to face the blonde kneeling in front of him. His face could not conceal the pride he felt at accomplishing a task he'd previously thought was reserved for Dark and Krad, yet another perk of their parasitic existences, but this was phenomenal! He beamed happily, unable to tone his elation down.

That is, until he saw Krad's face. It was contorted into a twisted mixture of confusion, shock, and abject horror, wide-open eyes all but indistinguishable from his pallid, whitewashed face.

Worry inching its way across his own face, Satoshi slowly turned his gaze down to his chest, as if noticing it for the first time. And had he been in control of his own body, he might have vomited then and there.

The fabric covering the area right over his heart was a shredded bloody mess, dripping silvery astral-life blood from a gaping wound of light, still-fresh gore glistering in the surreal light he cast.

He didn't…know how to react—it didn't hurt! It was just there—he could look at it, see the wound penetrating deep into his chest cavity, could even sense the gentle pulse of his heart, opened to the world, and it churned his consciousness with the sickening knowledge that it was wrong. It should be killing him, this wound—he should be rolling on the floor, screeching in pain, tears streaming down flushed cheeks, begging for it to stop…but he wasn't…

No, surely there was no way this could be real—could it? Perhaps it was an image he'd conjured up unwittingly…Tentatively, to test his theory, he reached a trembling finger up and brushed a fingertip across the wound, sending a sensation akin to an electric jolt through his form. In perfect follow-up to the action Krad released a pitiable cry and fell forward awkwardly, catching the brunt of the force with a shoulder as he struggled to pull himself back upright, chest twinging viciously.

Satoshi immediately pulled his hand back in surprise at Krad's shout, taking an anxious step back as worry glazed over his thoughts again. 'Wha…What is this?'

Krad didn't answer immediately, struggling on his own to push himself back up onto his knees, still seated on the floor in front of his host. He raised a tremulous hand to his head as if seeking to stop the spinning room, shaking his head.

No, no, no…no, this was wrong…Krad couldn't understand it—didn't want to understand it, even though he was the only one at this point who had any idea why it had happened. Satoshi continued to demand an explanation of him, but he easily shut off the mental entreaties from his host and slipped into his astral void, babbling to himself.

"I broke the promise…my promise to Satoshi-sama…that I would never hurt him again…"

Growing increasingly perturbed at being ignored when something was definitely needing to be explained to him, Satoshi finally let out an annoyed growl and lunged forward to shake Krad from his self-induced stupor—only to learn the hard way the worst part of being astral: you are mere thought and will, nothing more. You have no true form, you have no power over the living, you cannot touch, you cannot feel. A lesson Krad registered at least once a day, relearning it in malicious repetition.

The futile act, though, served its purpose well enough, and Krad looked up right into the frightened clear blue eyes of his Tamer, begging for an explanation, and smiled so forlornly even a blind man would not have thought him sincere.

"…I'm sorry, Satoshi-sama…" His eyes glittered as if they truly were made of precious gold ore, and he struggled in vain to blink away the unshed tears that were so new to him, reaching a shaking hand forward to cup the chin of his Tamer that did not exist, "So sorry…I couldn't…I couldn't stop him, I couldn't save you…I failed you…"

Satoshi pulled back from the strange sensation of unfeeling, still confused at how serious his curse was acting—after all, it wasn't as if Krad hadn't been hurt before, even so serious a blow. 'But, it's…I'm fine—it doesn't even hurt, you know. I can't feel it. It's only your body that he injured, even if it looks bad on me…You said yourself that this is only a reflection of your own astral form…' Try as he might to be moderately comforting, his words—as always—came off considerably harsher than he'd meant them too, and he inwardly cringed at his own tone.

Krad, though, simply shook his head sadly. "No…you don't feel it…but he did hurt you…he hurt you…so badly…" He lowered his head and his shoulders shook pathetically, with his long golden hair pooling at his feet.

'I told you, I'm fine,' he repeated, growing annoyed with Krad's insisting that he'd been injured in the fight. 'Stop worrying about it when nothing happened—you'll…you'll have other chances to get him…' It felt strange almost to be encouraging Krad this way, reminding him that he'd have other opportunities to try and maim an elusive phantom thief whom he'd rather not see dead.

The shoulders stopped shaking, and he raised his head, gaze dark and stormy, flashing maliciously, "That may be true for me…but you may not." Satoshi's brows knit anxiously. "That wound…he made it when he ripped out that clump of my astral threads, you know…but that's not something that poses anything of a worry to me. It simply hurts a damn lot—they'll regrow…in time. Always have.

"But for humans…for humans, they will not regenerate. These are your life threads—once they are lost, then they are gone forever. You cannot gain them back by any means."

'And…what does that mean then?'

"It means, Satoshi-sama…it means that by stripping you of those threads…he's stripped you of years of your life—and by the damage he inflicted I'd wager at least ten, possibly even twenty."

All the blood drained from his face as if his throat had just been sliced open—turning the same sickening shade Krad's had upon first seeing the wound. Shaking his head, he tried to laugh off the statement in disbelief. 'No, that…that can't be true. He can't have done that, no! Niwa would never let him do something like that! Never!'

Krad bitterly responded in a flash with, "That stupid Niwa boy had no idea what his thief was doing—and even if he did it wasn't as if he was powerful enough to stop Dark anyway. Besides—it wasn't you he meant to injure; he hit his real target…me…"

Dark had…tried to kill them…

Dark…Dark who was supposedly the "better" of the two curses, the more ethical, the more valuing of life, the one who protected Niwa…

He had tried to kill them…and had nearly succeeded…Up until recently it had always been Dark defending, trying to simply escape Krad with whatever treasure he'd snatched that night, winging his way safely back to Daisuke's home where he would retreat into the boy's inner thoughts and rest until called upon again—he'd never seriously fought really, even when Satoshi would go all out against him…

That he would actually try…to take a life…to take his life…

"…Satoshi-sama?" Krad looked up at him, face twisting in worry, "Satoshi-sama, you—"

'Shut up…' he murmured, voice trembling as if it were a plucked violin string, quavering back and forth, 'Don't speak to me…I'm…no…'

Krad eased himself upright, pushing off of his knees, and slumped his shoulders in defeat as the boy backed up again, distancing himself even more from his curse—before giving a final furious shake of his head and abandoning his new astral form altogether, plunging the room back into darkness. "How often must I say it…" Krad cried to no one, "…before you will grant me the trust I so yearn for…?"

Silence, then a dam broke, 'I didn't want this! Why couldn't you leave me out of this damned feud of yours! All I want is to be left alone, by you, by Niwa—by everyone! I don't want to wake up one day and find out you did something stupid and I have to pay for it—'

"I didn't mean for this to happen, Satoshi-sama, I tried—"

'BUT IT DID! It did! You saw that wound! And I have to bear it now! Until the day I die—which is looking to be a hell of a lot sooner now than yesterday! You and your ridiculous grudge against the Niwas that has nothing to do with me…'

Krad was quiet for a minute, then spoke in a very soft voice, "…Would you rather I not fight him anymore, then?"

'Would it give me back all those years he stole from me tonight?' Satoshi retorted coldly, icy voice slicing the void which separated host from curse.

"…No…"

'Then I couldn't care less what you and that thief do—it doesn't seem to make a difference anyway. So go—go out and kill Niwa. Right now. Go on, I won't stop you—I'll even give you my direct permission if that's what you need, I'm done with this.' Krad didn't make a move, but rather sat down, abashed, on the edge of the mattress, hands clasped together. 'What're you waiting for? I'm sure he's fast asleep now, won't even put up a fight like my father did, and you know the way to his house well enough—or are you still recovering? Believe me I'd rather you go off and do it now rather than risk your and my necks at some other point in time trying to blast Dark from the sky, so just—'

"Shut up, Satoshi-sama."

A shocked pause as the boy registered the words. '…What?'

"I said…shut up." Krad looked into the dark with unblinking, unseeing eyes, "You do not know what you grant me the power to do, so I will refuse any permission you give me for now—"

'You don't ever tell me what to do—this is my body, and I'm finished with having to bear the burden of your mistakes, your—your half-thought decisions! I don't even need to be a part of you to know what was going through your mind tonight: Niwa Niwa Niwa, Dark Dark Dark, kill kill kill. That's all it ever is with you! You say you've changed but you haven't!'

His mental voice cracked as if he were fighting back tears, but he swallowed and surged ahead, unable to keep himself from spilling every bit of emotion he'd absorbed, 'And I…I don't know anymore… Everything but you is changing…and I want it to stay the same… Dark—he tried to kill me! And Niwa hates me now. My father is dead, I'm living on an inheritance from a family I despise, and all I have left…is you…and even you want to change and leave me behind…

'But I…I'll still be here, alone…dying for sins I didn't commit… And I'm scared…scared that I'll wake up one day and everyone will be gone, changed, and all I'll have is a memory and a fantasy until I die before my time…I'm so scared…' Curled into a tiny ball of thought inside his prison, Satoshi shivered and buried his face into his arms, trying to block any other entreaties from entering…

But he failed, because one did.

"I wish…I wish to all the gods…that I could hold you right now…" A pause, and he gulped, "But I know that is not possible, and it is a punishment in itself… So all I can do is beg you to listen to me…when I say that I will not leave you so long as you would have me beside you, that if it is your desire I will not change—just as if it were your desire I would change… Let me save you, Satoshi-sama."

The boy peeked up from his ball into the darkness and sniffed feebly, 'H…how?'

"Humans…normal humans…they cannot regenerate their threads, but—if I am with you, then by my presence all the years he took will slowly return, like life to a forest destroyed by fire. We…were never meant to exist as parasites to our hosts—it is a give and take relationship…and if you will let me, I will give…give my power to heal your astral wounds, to replenish your threads—please, Satoshi-sama! I…I want to…"

'…You would…you could…heal me?'

"I do not know what length of time it requires, but I will lend it—whatever it may be, because I promised I would not hurt you anymore if it was in my power to do so…will you let me?"

Satoshi was silent a moment, weighing Krad's plea as if determining its merits and sincerity. It wasn't simply a request to help, it was a request for trust—for Satoshi to trust him enough to place his life in his hands, hoping in the fact that he would not betray him as he'd been betrayed by so many others. And what did Krad ask for in return for this aid…?

"If I am with you…"

"Satoshi-sama!"

'…Stay…' came the feeble plea, '…stay with me…Krad…'

Author's Notes: And thus begins...the rest of the story. Erm, let me be a little more ambiguous here. Trudging through this part of the story (from the murder to this point) was quite possibly the hardest to write, if only because it's very difficult to nail down these boys' characters during all this. Please forgive any mild OOC-ness, and umm...turn a blind eye to major OOC-ness :D Three weeks have passed since the murder, and things are starting to settle down again; by next chapter a full month will have passed. Next up...the scene that will REALLY make this thing deserve its R-rating...