Galatea
Fifteenth Movement: Mirror, Mirror
"The greatest foes, and whom we must chiefly combat, are within."
Miguel De Cervantes
"Preheat oven to 375 degrees…" Turn—click
"Boil two and two-thirds cups of water…"
Rinse—set—click"Remove bay leaves from refrigerator and rinse in colander under warm water…what the hell's a 'colander'?"
Hiwatari Satoshi sighed loudly and slumped his shoulders, fighting back the urge to bang his head sharply on the countertop in defeat—what was he doing anyway?
Chasing phantom thieves across rooftops at midnight he could do, sitting for hours explaining integral calculus to children his age and younger he could do, even pulling an image from nothingness and letting it spill onto a blank canvas—he could do that too! But…
Cooking was something he could not.
He flipped forward and back a few pages in the recipe book pilfered from Niwa Emiko's bookshelf by her husband ("You look like you could use a good meal, Satoshi-kun," Kosuke had mentioned in a phone conversation a few days prior), searching seemingly in vain for some clue as to what to do next. For all the energy he was wasting preparing this meal, he could have just gone out and bought a dinner at a nice restaurant—damn Niwas with their persuasive ways (never mind that Kosuke technically wasn't really a Niwa).
'You need to rinse those leaves off before you boil them, Satoshi-sama.'
Letting an annoyed grunt pass over his lips, the boy retorted sharply to the voice in his head, "I can read instructions, Krad, I just…" He rubbed his face, "Just, go back to sleep or whatever. I can handle this."
'Alright, alright…' the voice conceded, and faded away, but before disappearing back into the recesses of his mind, it remarked with a final mental smirk, 'By the way—the colander's inside the cabinets to the right of the sink, it's just a sieve.'
Reluctant to accept advice from the blonde, Satoshi wandered red-faced across the kitchen to the cabinet and flung open the doors, glaring daggers at the "colander". "…Then why don't they just call it a sieve and be done with it?"
Another five minutes passed as he checked and rechecked the cookbook, following the directions to the letter, with nary a missed step, now past the major hurdle of determining what exactly a "colander" was.
The dinner he was preparing was supposed to be adequate for a family of four, so to cut down the portions he'd had to quarter every ingredient—but there still seemed to be no moment to rest in the preparations. One second he was grilling fish on a small portable grill he kept by the stove, the next he was setting the rice-cooker to steam, and the next he was seasoning a pot of soup—or trying to, at least.
"Why—won't it—come out—clog—CRAP!" The salt shaker he'd been vigorously shaking over the simmering little pot, which he'd had trouble getting to come out, now poured forth like a river, depositing all its contents into what had been one course of Satoshi's meal for the evening. It was no wonder he didn't cook more often—not only was he bad at it, but it certainly didn't seem worth all that effort either.
'Satoshi-sama…' The voice was back again, now with a note of pity tingeing it—which was even worse than before, 'Really, why on earth would you have added salt to the curry anyway? The seasoning it comes with is more than enough already!' He could almost see Krad standing there beside him shaking his head at the horrible mess he'd just made of the meal.
Frowning at the mess, he reached forward and turned the burner off, snatching up the handle of the pot with an angry grunt, and went to toss the mess into the sink, but he'd forgotten one very important thing.
"Sh—kuso!" The hot metal pot dropped to the floor with a loud clang, sending steaming liquid everywhere, and Satoshi cradled his burned hand to his chest, blowing furiously onto it to soothe the wound. After a moment's recovery, he wrapped his hand in a towel and picked up the pot again, tossing it violently into the sink and running water into it to let it soak while he cleaned up the rest of the spilled soup.
Two dirty towels and one wet sponge later, he'd finished—only to look up in alarm and sniff the air anxiously. "The fish!" Springing to his feet he tossed the sponge into the sink along with the pot and shot over to the smoking little grill—and his lovely blackened fish, now slightly crunchier than they were meant to be upon being consumed.
Hanging his head in defeat, he muttered as he wandered into the living room, "A decent meal is overrated anyway…" He'd just give the book back to Niwa the next day at school—everything else was too difficult for him to even attempt, and he'd made a complete disaster of this experience.
'Giving up already?'
"I'm not hungry anymore," he lied roughly, and plopped down onto the couch in his loose pants and shirt, lounging to take up nearly the full length. "I'll eat later…"
'It seems like such a waste, you know—at least the rice came out decently.'
"Please, your sarcasm truly wounds me," he muttered flatly in reply, and closed his eyes, suddenly feeling a headache starting in the front of his skull. He would just sit here for a while, it was quiet, and the throbbing would subside soon…
A loud deep gurgle interrupted his thoughts, though, and his blue eyes shot open, a red flush creeping across his cheeks.
'Oh, not hungry, you say?'"I'm fine…I said I'd get something later—" But the rest of his sentence was abruptly cut short as an inner force gripped cold tendrils of energy around his consciousness and completely overpowered him. He cried out—more from surprise and shock than from pain—which blinded him from making any sort of attempt to fight back that which he knew was futile to fight back, curling into a fetal position as he writhed helpless on the couch.
And indeed, only a moment later, long blonde hair pooled onto the floor and Krad sighed softly, taking in the warmth of the afternoon sun streaming in through the windows playing across the bare skin of his arms and upper chest. "That was easier than I'd expected—are you sure you're feeling well, Satoshi-sama?" His voice had a light air to it that came off as blatantly patronizing, and he did well to close his thoughts off to the flood of expletives that followed this "innocent" question.
'Why do you always do this? The least you could do is ask once in a while! It's my body—'
Krad pushed himself up into a sitting position and paused a moment, gauging the suggestion, then queried, "…Would you have let me come out, even if I'd asked?"
There was no pause in the response, though: 'Hell no.'
Smiling brightly, Krad continued, "Then there is your reasoning behind my actions. You wouldn't let me manifest even if I asked nicely—"
'How would you know? You never have asked nicely!'
Sighing a bit less contentedly this time, Krad stood up fully and clenched his left and right fists, as if getting the feel for the body. "Fine then, let me ask—"
'What's the use when you've already taken it?'"…Very well, I'll keep that in mind for next time." Inside Krad's head, Satoshi mentally groaned at the thought of "next time". "For now…let's do something about this kitchen dilemma you seem to have steeped yourself in."
'…Kitchen…?'
"Yes, Satoshi-sama," Krad retorted as he strode into the room and surveyed the mess, "You know, the place where humans cook food they usually intend to eat, and not throw about, burn, and otherwise render inedible."
'Hey! It wasn't my fault I had no idea what that—that colander thing was! And I still have no idea how you even knew—'"Cooking is just another art form, you know—I should think you'd be aware of that by now. In fact, if I may be so bold, I would conjecture it's something I've quite a knack for. Now why don't you just sit down and shut up and let me prepare your meal?" And without another word, he went to work in a flurry of fingers, food, and forks.
The fish he'd burned was swiftly tossed, and another few fillets were thrown onto the small grill, while almost simultaneously the blonde filled another pot with water and set it to boil, tossing in small amounts of various spices Satoshi hadn't even known he'd had in the back of his pantry. The rice-cooker dinged a moment later, and the boy's head was whirling at the remarkable ease with which his curse moved about the kitchen, with nary a moment's rest.
Rice, fish, soup, vegetables, tea—the simple dinner he himself hadn't been able to even start…was finished in a mere fifteen minutes. He wasted no time in setting the table immaculately before plopping into a chair in front of a tastefully loaded plate, crossing his arms, and releasing his hold over the body to allow Satoshi's own consciousness to resurface in control.
'Itadakimasu, Satoshi-sama…I hope you enjoy it.'
Staring down at the plate before him with a deer-in-headlights expression, it suddenly dawned that Krad's whole purpose for manifesting forcefully was to prepare the meal for his host, since he knew full well the boy would never have let him do it willingly. It would have been a sting against his pride, and embarrassing to boot.
The red blush which melted over his cheeks with this realization certainly attested to that. Krad had…done this for him…just because he couldn't do it himself, hadn't even been asked, had simply taken it upon himself to care for his host—
No—no no, not care, Satoshi shook his head…he was just—just making the food because the boy needed to eat, or Krad himself would suffer, that was all, that…that's all it was… Why, then, was it so difficult to convince himself of that?
'…Satoshi-sama?' a voice queried, a light tinge of worry staining it, '…Are you not going to eat it? It's going to get cold—'
"I'm eating, I'm eating—just leave me to it in peace, will you?"
A mental smile flashed in his mind, and Krad ceded control to the boy, fading into a far corner to rest.
Raising a spoon to his lips, he took a tentative sip, as if half-expecting it to be poisoned even though he'd seen every ingredient that went in (but who knew about some of those weird spices?). Quite to the contrary, the soup was delicious! Upon tasting the fish and vegetables as well, he discovered that he'd actually been very hungry—and the meal was just the right thing, perfectly seasoned and prepared by his curse.
Hmm…perhaps he'd have to have Krad cook for him more often…
"Here."
Niwa Daisuke blinked, confused, staring down at the book proffered him by Satoshi. It was quite thick and had a shiny red cover displaying a sumptuous feast—meats, vegetables, noodles, a steaming pot of rice, anything ones gustatory imagination might be able to concoct. Unsure of what to make of the Hikari boy's strange gift, Daisuke hesitantly took it, eyeing his classmate warily.
"I'm returning it. Your father let me borrow it." Ah, well that made a bit more sense now. But, when had his father…?
"My father?" he voiced his mental question, "When did you meet with him? And—" He stared down at the cookbook, idly flipping through it, "—I thought…you couldn't cook, Hiwatari-kun. You always did terribly in Kaseda-sensei's home-ec class…"
Declining to look the boy in the eye, Satoshi murmured, "I…I can't… It wasn't me…who cooked…"
"Eh?" Daisuke looked up again, "Then, who—" Realization washed over his face, tainting it, "—you didn't… Please tell me you didn't let him…"
Satoshi was most definitely not in the mood to discuss the situation with Niwa, and mentally kicked himself for letting the bit of information slip. "It's no business of yours; it was just a meal." He didn't flinch even as Daisuke's glare hardened, frown deepening. "Tell your father that it was appreciated—I'm going home now."
"That's right!" the redhead hissed after his retreating form, just loud enough to make sure Satoshi heard, "Just go on home—I'm sure he'd be more than happy for some more time alone." When the Hikari boy didn't even slow, he waxed desperate, "Can't you—can't you even see what you've become? What he's done to you? Please…Hiwatari-kun!"
Wait…
Daisuke froze, pleas falling silent from his lips as Satoshi disappeared around a corner.
What if…he couldn't see? What if that was exactly the problem! All this time, Daisuke had been hounding him relentlessly, not even considering that it wasn't Satoshi's problem, but rather something that couldn't be helped at all!
Maybe this was just too big for the poor Hikari boy to handle, to grasp! He actually couldn't see how far he'd fallen, how much he'd come to trust his curse. Maybe…if he heard it from someone else…
Daisuke shook his head—Satoshi was gone now, and he sank onto a bench underneath a tree in the schoolyard. There was no one else that Satoshi would trust enough or believe. He wasn't scoring any points on the "good friend" chart in Hiwatari-kun's eyes, and his father was most likely trying his best to be sure Hiwatari-kun stayed on the straight and narrow—'Well,' he thought with a blush, 'Maybe not straight…'—but who knew how successful that had been. Apparently not very, if Krad was now cooking meals for his host. What was next? Should he expect a wedding invitation in the next few days?
There had to be some way to reveal Krad's true nature, some way to get Hiwatari-kun back to the Hiwatari-kun he used to be before their relationship fell apart.
Some way… Daisuke laughed softly—it seemed at this point that nothing short of some miracle would mend their friendship.
Wait—a miracle…or magic!
A sly grin spread over his features. "…Sometimes…I think I don't mind being a Niwa."
From inside his own head, he heard a deep mental voice pout, 'Only sometimes?'
'Na, Daisuke…' Dark began tentatively from the back of the mind of his host, who was studiously scanning the shelves in the Niwa basement, 'I dunno if this is such a good idea…'
"There's a lot of stuff you do that I don't think is such a bright idea, but has that ever stopped you before?" Dark wouldn't admit it, but the boy had a point. "I think we've already had a talk about who's the host in this relationship and who's the curse. So if I ask you to help me, you'll do it, right?" Daisuke stopped, one hand resting on a thick tome, waiting for Dark to project. When the thief did so, Daisuke prodded him again, "Well? I can't very well find a spell like this on my own, so will you help?"
Dark crossed his arms, still reluctant, but couldn't help smiling at the stubbornly expectant gaze his host was gracing him with, and sighed, 'Fine—but I still say it's a bad idea.'
"I heard you the first few times you told me—now come on. Give me some suggestions; I wanna do this tonight. The sooner I do something about this, the better."
Sighing, Dark asked, 'I did mention that you were a nosy brat, right?'
He really didn't want his host getting involved in this any more than he already was, but Dark did feel he had a duty to do as he was asked, and reluctantly suggested a few books to look through, not even sure of what they were looking for himself. He knew, though, that if he let the boy go about this on his own, he'd either fail miserably or hurt himself by miscasting a spell.
It wasn't that he didn't want to meddle in Hiwatari's and Krad's relationship, but more that he didn't feel it was his place. He'd already made a pithy mentioning of the subtle agreement that had existed between himself and Krad in regards to their hosts and any relationships (platonic or otherwise) they engaged in with the boys. Relationships outside the host/curse setting were fair game, though, as had been proven time and time again, at least once an incarnation whenever the two curses happened to manifest at the same time.
Daisuke wasn't, Dark urged himself, against the idea of such a relationship between a Tamer and Tamed…it was simply that this was Krad and his host. Not…
He gave himself a mental slap and suddenly registered that Daisuke had been calling him for a few minutes now. "Dark! Are you even listening?"
'Ah—yeah… Sorry for spacing out…' The redhead's frown stayed but softened a bit, and he turned back to the book he had open on his lap.
"How does this one sound?" Pointing out a line, he began reading, "Potio Vetita Odii Aeterni—'The Forbidden Draught of Eternal Hatred'…" His gaze was bright and hopeful as he turned to look up at his curse, awaiting his judgment. "Well? That sounds like it would work well, don't you think? I'll admit the name's a little clichéd, but…"
Dark raised an eyebrow and bent forward to look over the boy's shoulder. '…Dai, did you even read the disclaimer on this thing?'
The boy blinked, "Disclaimer?" He turned back to the book and frowned, searching the page, "It's a spell—why would it have a disclaimer?"
Heaving a mental sigh, the thief informed him, 'All these book are ones the Niwa clan saved from the Cultural Revolution—no, from revolutions even before that!' He stretched an arm out, encompassing the room, 'Exorcisms, Dark Magic, Summonings, Banishments—Sealings even! I'd bet every Hikari treasure in our trove that there's a book stashed in that shelf for just about any taboo magic you might want to work.' He paused and hardened his gaze, staring into his Tamer's eyes, 'Get it, Daisuke? Forbidden. There's a reason it's called that!'
Apparently Daisuke didn't see how this applied to the spell he'd just suggested, "But, I don't underst—"
'You can't mess with emotions as strong as love and hate! That's why Love Potions have been illegal for so long. Hate Potions never got the amount of glory Love Potions did, but they're just as bad and just as deadly. To force someone to hate someone else unconditionally is tampering with the soul—humans can't take emotions that pure. You never love someone with all your being, and you never hate them that way either—it'll kill you. Using that kind of spell…is the same as sentencing the receiver to death.'
Daisuke paled, vision drifting out of focus as he contemplated the potential consequences of the spell he'd suggested—simply because he hadn't researched it enough and just jumped at the title, assuming it'd be fine. "I…I didn't know that…" he answered lamely, shutting the book quickly and tossing it to the side. Dark's frown remained firmly set on his face, but he couldn't bring himself to stay mad at the boy—it had been a mistake anyone would have made.
Another two hours passed in silence, neither yet comfortable with speaking to the other since the details of the last spell had been explained. Dark had retreated back into Daisuke's mind, abandoning his astral form to let his host browse through the books Dark had picked out. It was tedious work, and the thief was confident he didn't need to be there looking over the boy's shoulder the entire time—if Daisuke needed him, he'd call.
Daisuke frowned and turned the book around, hoping the strange letters might start to make more sense if he, perhaps, looked at them from a different angle. It was no luck—he was stuck with digging through his own mind to try and remember what his mother had taught him of the language.
"You'll need to at least be able to read them, Dai-chan!" she'd explained, "All these books certainly won't be of any help if you can't make out half of what's in them!" It made no difference how often he'd whined about having to learn useless languages as a child—Emiko would never give him her reasoning behind it. He now realized it was just another aspect of his kaitou training.
Latin, Greek, Russian, German, French, Indian, Arabic, and more—he had enough trouble reading English in his classes at school without having to learn all these others! Why they couldn't just stick to simple Japanese mantras was beyond him.
The alphabet this spell was written in…looked vaguely like English, with a few strange letters—that was Greek, right? Now, what was that first letter? It looked like a deformed English "s," or was that a "b"? He scrunched up his face in concentration and pulled from his memories the lessons he'd had drilled into him by the Niwa matriarch.
"S—no… Th…tho…tho…thos? That sounds familiar…" Something stirred in the back of his mind, which he brushed off as Dark simply shifting in his sleep. "Thos mo—thos mou…to…to ma—"
'STOP—STOP!'
Daisuke cried out in pain, dropping the book and clapping his hands to the sides of his head in an effort to stop it from splitting open as he felt it was trying to do. "Dark—what—!" He bit his lip so hard he drew blood, forcing his mind to focus on the new pain in his mouth in hopes to lessen that in his head. "Dark! Stop it!"
Almost as soon as it had struck, the pressure eased up, then dissipated entirely, with Daisuke now huddled against the great bookcase. He held his head in his hands, shaking uncontrollably.
'…I…shit, I'm sorry…' was the lame excuse, muttered almost too softly for Daisuke to register, 'I didn't mean to… But—but I had to stop you!' He caught himself, 'Dammit, that scared me…'
"Stop me from what?" the boy choked out, fighting back tears of pain as he struggled to regain control over his faculties. "That hurt!"
'You were going to…to say that spell.'
"So? That didn't mean you had to try and take over! Just tell me to st—"
'I did! But—if you'd kept going, not knowing how bad it was, we would've…would've…'
When the voice fell silent, Daisuke pushed himself back up, worry seeping into his eyes now. "…Would've what? What was so bad about speaking that spell?"
'…Didn't I warn you that these books were seriously dangerous?' The boy ducked his head in shame, and his curse continued, his tone betraying how obviously shaken he was. 'It was a spell crafted by a sect of pagans in ancient Athens that had been hired by the Alcmaeonids.' It was evident Daisuke was about to ask just who or what the Alcmaeonids were, so Dark clarified quickly, 'The Alcmaeonids were a family who'd been exiled from Athens by this guy Peisistratus. When he died and his son took over rule of Athens, they saw it as a chance to get their power back, and hired someone to—what the hell…it doesn't matter! The point is they made up that spell—it pretty much melds the mind of the caster and the victim.'
"Melds…their minds?"
'Well, it was a good idea in theory. Simple mental invasion; it allowed one party to play audience to all the thought processes of the other, great for spying. Thing is, it was way too dangerous to use, and got sealed away. It had a nasty little side effect of letting one get into the mind…but never letting them out…'
Daisuke felt that same sickness settle over his stomach again and cradled his head in his hands. "…I can't believe I almost…"
'I'm sorry…for frightening you. Why don't we…stay away from the grimoires for now…?' He projected and smiled down at his host, hoping to put the boy a bit more at ease. 'Maybe if I keep you away from books with spells that might kill you or Hiwatari, I won't have to watch you all the time.' With a sly wink he added, 'Not that I don't like watching you, of course.' Daisuke's brilliant response was to blush and sputter, but Dark just pointed out a new book and instructed his host to browse through it. 'Should have lots of sleep spells—that's when the mind is most open to manipulation. If you're gonna find an incantation to use short of killing him, that's where it'll be.'
Daisuke nodded firmly, then plopped on the stone floor and pulled the book into his lap, settling in.
"Dark!" he called brightly, aware that his counterpart had once again slipped into slumber, or whatever it was curses did inside their hosts. "Ne, Dark! I think I found one!" He was quite pleased with himself; after a thorough reading of the section on the spell, he was confident that this wouldn't meld their minds or render Hiwatari-kun a vegetable. Actually, Daisuke himself wouldn't have to do anything.
'…What is it now?' came a sleepy voice, 'You kill him yet? 'Cause I'm going back to sleep if you did… I exorcise art—resurrecting your boyfriend's not in the job description.'
"I didn't kill him, for your information," Daisuke returned, haughtily ignoring the "boyfriend" remark. "I think I found a spell to use! It's in German, but I can at least understand the description—look!" Dark complied and projected himself at the boy's side, leaning over to see what his host had found. "It says here that it's part of a line of spells concocted as information obscurers. It was originally 'designed to seal away information, such as a password or phrase, for recollection at some later point in time.' You learned stuff, erased it from your own memory, and made a note to use this spell to go back to a certain point in time and recall whatever you needed to know."
Dark nodded, impressed. 'And just how did you intend to use this on Hiwatari? What exactly do you want him to remember?'
The red eyes narrowed and his frown deepened. "I want him to remember the Hiwatari-kun he used to be. I'm going to use this spell and make him confront…himself." Dark raised a thin eyebrow, and the boy continued, feeling the need to justify going to such lengths. "I know…that nothing I say now is going to convince him that what I'm telling him is the truth—he just won't listen anymore! So…maybe if he meets himself—the Hiwatari-kun who still hated Krad and would never trust him…then maybe it'll be enough to snap him out of whatever's happened."
There was a pause, and Dark pressed gently, '…And what if he won't even listen to himself?'
"That…is not an option."
Being a lesser demon wasn't the world's most glamorous of jobs, but the Niwa familiar took his position as aid to the legendary Phantom Thief Dark quite seriously. When he was summoned, he was at his master's side in an instant; when the need arose, he would take on whatever form his master asked; and when his master sent him off on a mission, he was pleased to do his duty and oblige him.
Which was why he was currently sitting on the railing of the balcony outside the apartment of the Hikari host on an early spring night. He'd been fitted with a radio collar of sorts, apparently with his master's host thinking that through it With might be able to relay information regarding the boy he'd been sent to observe.
His master's host, at times, was not the brightest crayon in the box.
"Ne, With! Is he asleep yet?" came Daisuke's nervous voice over the radio waves. "It's ten o'clock already—he should at least be settling down by now. What do you see?"
Heaving a mental sigh, the sprite offered the best answer he could:
"Kyuu!"
"… 'Kyuu'? With, what're y—shut up, Dark! Yes, I know he can't speak, thank you very much. But all he has to do is—hey, With! Just change into me or Dark! Then tell me—" There was a pause, silence settling over the airwaves. "What do you mean 'creepy boy might see him and molest him'? Dammit, Dark! Help me out here!"
With sighed again, as best a fluffy rabbit-sized lesser demon could.
'But why did you give it back?' Krad asked for the third time that evening since Satoshi had arrive home from school, 'I thought you enjoyed the meal!'
The boy fought back the instinctive retort that this had been precisely the reason he'd felt the need to return it—he didn't want anything sitting around which bound him even further to his curse. He didn't. Especially not books that inspired that curse to do nice things for him. "Yes, well, you thought wrong." He dared a glance up to the image which had been following him around as he put away dishes, and noted with a pang that it seemed almost offended now, "The…the rice was too cold. And it didn't stick together enough. And—and the sauce was too thin. You overgrilled the vegetables and undergrilled the fish. I could've cooked a better meal with my eyes closed."
'Oh I'm quite sure you could have,' Krad drawled lazily, fighting rolling his eyes, '…You're not a very effective liar, Satoshi-sama.'
"Well—I've no reason to explain myself to you. If you think knowing why is important enough that you feel the need to go digging through my thoughts, then by all means be my guest; it won't be the first time you've violated my privacy. I don't want any more stupid little favors from you, understand? I don't want—" He wisely stopped himself before proceeding any further, stacking the last plate on a drying rack with the other dishes he'd attended to that evening. "Your efforts last night were appreciated. That should be more than enough. Be glad I don't suspend you from battling Dark on the grounds that you took my body without permission."
'To cook you dinner—!'
"I said I didn't want it!" the boy snapped, whirling on his curse in the doorway to the kitchen. "Your being—being nice, I don't need—"
'Oh, then shall I treat you harshly again? Would you prefer I return to the Krad who took you without question, who would have killed the Niwa boy without so much as a passing thought as to your opinion on such an act? Would that please you? Because you know I would do so in a heartbeat, should that be your desire—and only for that reason.'…Return?
Satoshi steadied himself in the doorjamb, ducking his head. He'd never heard Krad speak outright about his "changing." Their pact had been surrounded by a field of eggshells upon which neither of them were permitted to tread, and here Krad had actually spoken of returning to before…implying that he'd come to some new place, new position.
"…Th—thank you…for dinner…"
Krad blinked a few times, caught off guard by the abrupt change in the boy's tone. Quickly catching himself, he simply noted, '…That is only the second time you've ever thanked me for something…'
Rubbing off the comment, Satoshi marched back to his room, stripping his over-shirt off in the hallway and tossing it into the clothes hamper. "Do more that's worthy of a 'thank you' and I might consider it more often."
'Did we not just have an argument in which you vehemently stated that you didn't want me doing any such things for you?'
Satoshi stopped halfway through slipping out of his undershirt as well—it was an unusually warm night, and Krad's presence didn't seem to bother him as much as usual—and he cursed mentally.
'It would facilitate my doing what would please you if you would be so kind as to clarify precisely that: What exactly do you want from me?'
He finished stripping off the shirt and turned his gaze from the foot of the bed he now stood at back towards his curse situated at the door. "…I don't know. All I know is what I don't want from you…and that in itself scares me…"
'Then if it is so frightening, tell me, that I might not unknowingly commit such a deed!'
Then, for the first time in his entire tenth incarnation, for so long as he had known the boy and the boy had known him…Satoshi smiled at him.
It was not, unfortunately, a pleased smile, but rather one laced with grief and regret, one of the clever masks his host was so adept at maintaining. Satoshi seemed to sense the awkwardness of the expression and turned his face away, crawling onto the bed and pulling back the covers.
'…You're not going to tell me, are you, Satoshi-sama?'
He slipped under the sheets. "No…and it's not for the reason you're probably thinking, actually… It's simply that…it won't do either of us any good. If it will be, it will be. I learned long ago that things such as fate cannot be overcome by a mere human…even by a Hikari…"
'And yet you will not even let me try and avoid such a thing? You know that I am no "mere human" as you put it! You think I would be subject to such a thing as this "fate" you mortals believe in?'
"You are…so arrogant…"
No one can escape fate, Krad. No one.
…I don't want to love you…
Daisuke wound up deciding that the best option would be to just have With return home when Hiwatari-kun went to bed as a sign that it was alright for the spell to be cast, and it was nearing the eleventh hour when the white ball of fluff popped up in the basement once more.
'You know,' Dark began slowly as Daisuke leafed through the tome to find the spell he'd selected, 'We could have just put a sleep spell on the guy… Then you wouldn't have had to wait five hours for him to nod off.'
"WHAT!" the boy exploded, nearly dropping the book, "Wh—why didn't you say that before I sat down here the whole evening dodging Mom's questions and Towa-chan's prying? I could've done something with Riku-san tonight!"
Shimmering into existence, there was a sly smile plastered on the thief's face. 'Because—I like seeing you get pissed. Just like you are now.'
What followed was a softly muttered string of expletives, the details of which we won't delve into. Suffice to say Dark was proud that his Tamer appeared to have been paying such close attention to him during their time together that the boy had picked up a good bit of his colorful vocabulary.
"Alright," Daisuke sighed, propping the book open on a desk by one of the bookshelves, and cleared his throat dramatically. "…Let's see how much German I can remember…
"Wörter der Gegenwart: Wiederaufruf, aus der Vergangenheit, Hilfe für die Zukunft—lange vergessen und versiegelt, öffne dich! Lasse den, der vergessen hat, wieder erinnern; lasse die verlassenen Gedanken wiederauferstehen. Komm!"
/Words of the present: recall from the past aid for the future—long forgotten and sealed away, be exposed! Let the one who has forgotten remember once more; let the abandoned thoughts rise again. Come/
No no I shouldn't have gotten so angry at him it wasn't really his fault he was just trying to be nice dammit I don't want him to be nice I don't want to get any closer to him than I have to
Do I
'Do you?'Maybe I should have kept that stupid book at least I wouldn't have had to listen to Niwa's lecture Niwa always butts in where he's neither wanted nor needed he should just sit at home and worry about his own curse Krad is my curse Krad is mine
'Yours? Since when…?'
It was…well it was nice I guess to be cooked for I've never had anyone cook for me before except for at the Academy but that didn't count that was school and I can't cook myself well I can but not anything edible so it was nice and new to get a meal like that even if it was Krad and even if he took over my body it was still nice
'So you're admitting you enjoyed that bit of freedom he stole?'He was happy too I know he was when he cooked for me I could feel him smiling inside even though I was so mad at him it feels…warm when he smiles inside like something sweet and liquid and soft spreading through me that isn't bad right it's okay to feel that isn't it even if it's Krad Niwa would be mad if he knew that but I don't really care anymore Niwa never shared his warmth with me but Krad does
'I see…and you don't care where that warmth comes from, do you?'
It feels nice when he's nice even though I don't really want it to I can't help that he does that to me now I would never never have felt that before but it's different now I'm different now he's different now everything's different now
And I like it
'Stupid fool… You don't know what you want.'
I want to feel him smile more when he stopped Dark that one night he was smiling then and it felt nice then too it's strange that when he's pleased about something really pleased about something I feel it too I wonder why is it just because we're host and curse or is it still the Synchronization no that wore off already it should have even though there was that incident at school last weekend I don't think it's the Synch though it feels different
'Gods, this is making me sick.'
Do Niwa and Dark feel that way does Niwa get sad when Dark's depressed sometimes I'm confused as to whether I feel down because Krad feels that way or if it's just how I am I know I get those headaches and lately I think they're from him because they always worsen after we have some kind of fight and I tell him to stop and he claims he doesn't know he's doing it but I think he does
'Enough, let's begin.'
…What? Who…?
'Here, over here—Satoshi, here.'
…I know you… You're…
'Exactly so. I am you.'
"…You're not me—at least, not the real me." Satoshi surprised himself with the coherency of his thoughts now, feeling as if he'd just awoken from a dream. "I am myself."
The image shimmered, casting a pale glow into the empty blackness surrounding the two boys, eerily reminiscent of Satoshi's own astral form. Was this how Krad saw him? All shine and luster and unworldly—ethereal as the blonde himself?
'I suppose I won't be convincing you of my authenticity any time soon, though it doesn't really matter. You need but to listen to my piece.'
"…This is a dream, isn't it?"
The image laughed softly in his head, its lips not even moving, completely devoid of mirth—a laugh Satoshi was used to affecting. 'And if it is? Isn't your entire existence something someone else dreamed up? A mother, or a father—someone had to think you into being, ne?' The alter-Satoshi smiled slowly. 'Or perhaps…this is a nightmare?'
"…Thanks, but I've had one of those recently, and I'm not looking to repeat it with you."
'You know, I'm sure Dr. Freud would have something to say on the subject of dream-coitus…but you've probably learned enough already. Our curse was quite thorough in his teachings, wasn't he?'
"You're not me," Satoshi repeated firmly, dodging the question.
'Oh but I am. Or rather…you were me. I will be you.' Before the boy could seek clarification, the image continued, 'But that's not really important. What's important is that somewhere along the way you seem to have…changed. We are no longer so alike as we once were…and I think it is all his fault.' The cold blue eyes narrowed maliciously. 'After all, you seem to have been devoting quite a piece of your thoughts to that monster lately…'
Shrugging off the insinuation, Satoshi replied dully, "A bit difficult not to, isn't it. He is a part of me. He's already laid claim to that piece of my mind, so I don't really see it as granting him thoughts so much as…indulging."
'Yes, yes,' his reflection replied solemnly, 'For you are nothing, if not one who cedes power, who gives up the fight…who indulges.'
"What?" Satoshi hissed, appalled, "Are you implying that I've—"
'Stopped fighting him? Why yes, I am. Are you going to refute me?' Satoshi opened his mouth to protest, then slowly shut it again, a blush darkening his features. 'You see? You've given up; you've even taken to thinking of that monster in an almost fond light. And that…well, that's just unacceptable.
'Krad, Krad, Krad…that seems to be just about the only thing occupying your mind these days. Krad this, Krad that. Even your most trivial of thoughts somehow bears some faint connection to him. All you can think of, and all you endeavor to. I wonder, just how did he get there, to that place in your consciousness…in my consciousness…that was once so fiercely guarded?'
Satoshi clenched his fists, "That's not—he's not—"
'How did he manage to become such an important part of your life…in such a short span of time? Gods, one could blink and it seems your entire attitude changed! How did he manage to sneak in through your pores and engulf you through and through, inside and out, like only he can do? Like only he would do?
'He's there, in the back of your mind, sleeping peacefully now—and that's where he should be. But he's not just there, he's all over you—prying into your mind, squeezing into your deepest thoughts and violating you in ways you can't even sense. Monopolizing your reason, looking over your shoulder, holding your hand and guiding you as he will…'And you…you will follow him, won't you? You will oblige any request he might make of you, go where he tells you to, and all because…because…why?'
"He's—he's different! He's not like before!"
'So, because he's changed? Because he's nice and thoughtful and says that you, his Satoshi-sama, are the most important thing in his life? That he'd do anything for you?'
The image shook its head, but stayed firmly rooted in place, mouth never moving as it muttered in a tone oozing pity, 'Satoshi…when did you become so foolish?'
"You look like me," the boy growled, eyes narrowing, "but like hell you really are. If you were, then you'd understand him now like I do. If you were with him always, two as one, listening to his little thoughts straying into my mind even when he does mean them to…you'd understand."
It was apparent that simply lacking any understanding of Krad didn't seem to faze his counterpart, so Satoshi continued in an effort to enlighten his other self. "Like the fact that he likes to sleep in now, doesn't feel he has to watch me all the time—I'm never able to fully wake up before ten o'clock nowadays, and I suspect it has to do with the fact that half of me is still unconscious.
"Or that he likes History best of all my subjects, particularly when we study eras from when the Hikari clan was in another country, so that he can learn the Japanese history he missed. He frequently prods me into skipping gym, usually on days following a job Dark pulls, telling me that I'm too weak to put up with any significant strain on my body after such an expenditure of Astral.
"If you were with him like I'm with him, if you really listened to him…then you'd also know how much…he really does care for this clan. I'd always taken his words at no more than face value…but he truly appreciates and wants to protect those artworks. He knows each and every last one by name, could spot the real one in a roomful of copies with his eyes closed, and he loves them as he loves…me."
Satoshi swallowed thickly, his heart giving a little leap at the sudden realization that in all probability Krad had just heard him say that. Ah well, too late now… "And…and so…I understand him. Better than before, at least. And I think…that I like the Krad I've come to understand. Not because he's nice and thoughtful and says that I'm the most important thing to him, as you put it—even though he is all those things, to me… But he's always said I was precious to him…I just never chose to believe it.
"Why now, you want to know? You think it's laughable, the thought that he might have changed somehow. I realize now, and firmly believe, that he's simply never had motivation to before; he never realized that he needed to. And…yes, maybe it is arrogant of me to think that—that he's done it all for my sake, but…well, I do."
'Then he's drawn you in and gotten his hooks into you already!'"Gods," Satoshi laughed, "You sound like Niwa."
'At least one of us does. Look at you! You're nothing but the shadow of the Hiwatari Satoshi you used to be—the Hiwatari Satoshi I am! He hasn't changed—he's plotting, scheming, just like monsters of his caliber do, all behind your back!
'He's played a masterful hand, gathered his cards so carefully and cleverly that you are all but blind to his deceit. He knows where to tug to make you follow and has you on a golden leash now. Mark me—he intends to choke you with it when you least expect it.'
Satoshi's expression was completely blank, unmoved by the assurance. "Your argument doesn't faze me, as you have yet to convince me to place any trust in your claims. Until you either demonstrate some proof that you understand him better than me, or until he gives me reason to doubt his sincerity—"
'Simply by existing he's already done you harm! How many times have you—have I woken up in cold sweats from nightmares where he's forced us to kill Niwa or Dark? How many times—'
"I know him, though—better than you, at least. He could never draw me in this deeply without consequences, without some sort of reparation, compensation. I would know if he was false in his advances. If he held me as close as he has of late, without the purest of intentions—" The image scoffed at the implication of Krad being "pure" "—he couldn't keep it from me! He couldn't whisper in my ear, in my mind, that he changed for me…if it wasn't true."
'You've no idea what he's capable of! How do you—'"And neither do you! But I feel it. And…even if he hasn't changed, then…then maybe it's been me that has. Maybe it's been…for the better.
"You're absolutely right; I'm not the Hiwatari Satoshi I was. I abandoned that and any surname still extant; I neither want nor need them, I'm happy just being myself. And since he hasn't forced one upon me, I intend to stay this way. He assured me that he wouldn't force me—that was our compromise. And I believe him, because he couldn't lie to me that way, that close; I'd know if he did—I'd know.
"If he'd been scheming like you think he is…I'd know. Because—because I am him, and he's me. I…accept that now. It can't be changed, and…I don't have the strength or will to try to change it anymore. The way things are now…is just so much better than before…"
There was a slight pause, and Satoshi would swear the image was shaking in anger, then a voice exploded in his mind, 'WEAK—so weak! Where is your strength—where did it go? Your critical eye? Your drive? You…have stooped this low for him? You are—you are what I am to become!
'NO! I absolutely refuse to be reduced to—to this! A sniveling excuse of a man who is too weak and too apathetic to guard even his own existence! I have lived—have survived all these years; I killed my heart, loved no soul, not even my own. I made such sacrifices…to merely become you! The thought is perfectly laughable!
'All that I did, so that he would not appear—utterly futile! He appeared, regardless of my efforts to contain him, and all these years of effort are now crumbling at my feet like so many sandcastles in the waves…and I am to stand by and do nothing about it!
'I am to walk along meekly and let myself be swept away—by him! I refuse to become you! NEVER! How—how could you! To throw away everything, neglect everything for him! Your job, your life, your father, your—your freedom! Your dignity! Your PRIDE!
'You are nothing but his servant now, and I…I hate everything that has to do with him. I hate his very existence, the way his consciousness presses in the back of my mind, smothering me, probing my thoughts, scouting, sneering at me. I can't see it, but I know it, and you…you have been defeated by him! You are nothing more than his little slave boy now, his Tamed! And so I hate you as well—I hate my own self!
'…For what I will become…'
"Hate is all I used to know." Satoshi's voice was surprisingly neutral after having endured the image's tirade, and he found he wasn't nearly as angry as he perhaps should have been. On the contrary, he quite pitied this…being, whatever he was.
"Hate the Niwas, as I was taught. Hate Krad, as I learned. And to hate myself…should I ever forget to hate." He sighed softly and averted his eyes, "But for what? To what end? Hating got me nowhere—kept me in a little, close-minded cage, locked away from my own emotions in a cold, tiny cloister with me, myself, I, and Krad.
"You stay locked in there and try not to feel something! I needed—needed to! And he let me; he didn't use me, no matter what you may think—he didn't. He took it and cherished it and let it grow as it would, didn't reprimand me, didn't warn me—"
'Of course he didn't, idiot! That was what he wanted—'
"—he let me do as I pleased! Which meant I wanted it! He simply absorbed anything harsh I threw at him…and reflected back all the good. And when he was happy, I was happy… It was warm, like being with Niwa, and yet so different at the same time. I threw away nothing as I see it, but have gained…so much…
"All my life, all my years at the Academy, I was warned to keep myself closed to emotions—all because of him…and now that I've let myself be open, I wonder how I could possible have hated something like this, why I kept it away, fled from it. I—I want…to be wanted. I need to be needed
"You don't want to become me, you say…" There was a soft, pitying smile, and the image narrowed its eyes fiercely, "Welcome to Fate—you will, regardless of whether you want to or not. And just as I was, you too will be consumed with emptiness, yearning to be filled by someone—anyone."
His other self looked as if he were holding himself back from attacking, "…And he will be all you have. You will then embrace him, eventually…I don't…think that I have quite yet. But soon, I can feel it creeping up behind me, a cool breeze on the back of my neck, a pair of eyes boring into me that I can't see yet feel all the same…
"That time will come, soon, when he will ask anything of me…and I'll grant it, just because it's him and he'd not ask something of me that I couldn't supply. When I'll forget that he's supposed to be my curse, and not…not something different. Something more…
"Something like…I wanted Niwa to be… Someone who'll be with me always, who'll make me happy. Not because we're of one body, but because we're of one heart, because I want it." He absently ran a hand through his hair, tousling it as a distraction. "It's not here yet, that time, but I can hear it, smell it, taste it, it's so near…and I have no intentions of fighting it."
'Weak—!'"Not because I'm weak. Not because I give in, faced with no other options—apparently I do have other options, as you're trying so hard to convince me right now. Simply because I want to…because it's as natural as breathing, eating, sleeping; because it just flows, host and curse. Because it is what it is."
'There it is again!' his image spat, 'That simpering apathetic attitude! Alright, I accept your feelings, I accept that perhaps such emotional isolation will become too much to bear, and I will seek someone out to relieve me of that burden… And at that point I'm sure I'll hate myself even more!
'You say you want to feel, but what is there to gain? Once you start feeling and opening yourself up, certainly there is that happiness, the ecstasy—but is there not also pain and torture! Rejection, loneliness—ten times amplified! You want him to be what you would have had Niwa be? Niwa would have been a hundred times better than—than that!
'Niwa is worthy; he's kind, generous, honest, if not a bit naïve for one who is supposed to be my enemy. He is…' He gave a soft chuckle, 'Krad's antithesis. How can you even begin to compare them? How can you confuse whatever feelings that demon might have foisted upon you with those for Niwa Daisuke! Niwa Daisuke who never raised a hand against you.' Satoshi started to protest, but found that this probably wasn't a wise moment to interrupt.
'Niwa Daisuke who never shrank away from my presence, even though he knew what I would become, what I would try and do to him and his Dark! That bastard dared to raise a hand against Niwa Daisuke! You—I—we loved him! And you just let him—'
"But—Niwa doesn't love me!" He quickly shut his mouth, shrinking back and biting the inside of his lip, not meaning to have implied Krad's feelings towards him again.
The insinuation wasn't lost on his alter self, though, and he quickly retorted, 'And you think that monster does?'
Well, there was no use in side-stepping the issue any longer, but… "I don't…wish to discuss such a matter in his presence."
The image looked confused for a moment, then twigged as to what the boy was implying, frowning scornfully. 'If his hearing this has got you worried, it's unfounded. He'll not be privy to any of our talk tonight. He's…occupied.'
Now it was Satoshi's turn to wax confused, but he brushed it off, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "I…know what he feels for me—"
'Base lust, that's all he's capable of.'
"That's not true—perhaps before, when you knew him…but it's…different. And…it scares me.
"Before, he was so easy to read—he never hid anything, for he never had any reason to. He would do what he wished whether I liked it or not, whether I would willingly submit or not. He had no qualms about watching me or speaking to me like a lo—lover—" He blushed at this, "—but it…has really been some time since he last did anything like that. It's as if…he almost respects my wishes now. Which is exactly what I think he's doing."
He took a deep breath and plunged forward. "I…don't think he loves me…I'm all but sure of it. He would never admit it—and I wholeheartedly hope he never does. Partly because if he ever did, I know I'd not believe him, despite knowing it was true. I guess…that's strange, isn't it? Sort of…denial. It would break me, hearing someone say that to me and knowing it was real, that I was really loved… I couldn't handle that…
"And I also hope he never tells me, partly…because I would have absolutely no idea what to say back. I don't even know how Niwa found the words to let me down…I can't fathom it. Because I couldn't say no, if Krad told me…told me. But I really don't think I could accept him either. I don't…yet deserve such words…
"But I'll change." Satoshi's tone hardened, and he appeared to have found some source of strength and put new fervor into his argument. "And any change is bound to be one for the better at this point. I…won't stomp on my emotions any longer. If you truly are me, the old me…then you'll understand my motives when you too make that decision."
'It will be a cold day in Hell before I—'"You may say you'll never feel this way, but I know myself well enough to foresee it. I will open myself up to whomever I choose. Niwa's closed himself to me, and until I am betrayed yet again, I choose that which curses me to be that which saves me. I am human, nothing more, nothing less; it's humanity's fate to face trials that pain, problems that hurt. I won't risk never experiencing the good just to keep myself from the bad.
"Far from giving up…I consider this a new beginning. No one will stop me; not the Niwas, not the Hikari clan…and most certainly not myself." He gave a slight bow. "I look forward to the day when you'll finally realize that you've become me at last, when you too will give in to his charms… And so until then, leave me. Do not stand in my way…or I will most surely strike you down."
There was a blinding flash of light, and somewhere far away, Niwa Daisuke sneezed.
"Satoshi-sama!" Krad called into the darkness again for the umpteenth time, having by now lost count of how often he'd yelled for the boy, growing quite worried. It wasn't natural—there was something very wrong in the fact that Satoshi wasn't responding to his pleas in any way. "Satoshi-sama!"
He'd sensed it shortly after the boy had lain down for the evening. Their mental link seemed to almost…snap. Didn't fade, as it usually did when the veil of sleep descended upon them both at night, just cut off—it was as if his Tamer had been separated from him by an insurmountable wall, through which his cries could not penetrate. When he reached out for that familiar bit of consciousness…it just wasn't there. He would dare conjecture that they'd been physically separated into their own bodies if he weren't still in the astral plain. As it was…
"Satoshi-sama! SATOSHI-SAMA!"
'Satoshi-sama!' came a mocking voice inside his mind, and Krad whirled around, wide-eyed, his astral robes floating in the air with the quick movement. When his gaze fell upon the source of the scornful mimicry, he couldn't help the soft gasp that escaped his lips.
"How…did…"
'Oh…' An image stepped forward, laughing softly to itself and startlingly similar to himself in his astral form. No…he would dare say it was himself. 'I've a good feeling you already have formed a few suspicions in that shrewd mind of yours as to just who I am and how I've come to be here.'
Krad gulped and ran his eyes over the form, searching it for some way to differentiate it from himself, and shuddered, sick, when he found none. From the high, proud stature, down to the immaculate boots, even in the graceful arch of the image's eyebrows…even Satoshi-sama would not be able to tell. But why would it…?
A gradual smile found its way onto Krad's lips, and he shook his head unsure of whether he should be angry or impressed. "That Niwa brat…this is a spell of his, isn't it?" He now relaxed a bit and circled his mirror appraisingly. "Hmm…quite a piece of work…I must say he's intrigued me." A pause, hand stroking his chin. "Late…nineteenth century? No…early twentieth…Nazi Germany, from the looks of it. Humans never did trust themselves to keep information secret…"
The image nodded approvingly, smile not faltering in the least. 'I am impressed…but then, I am nothing if not completely informed of all the spells those Niwas have at their disposal, am I?' Krad stepped away, back turned towards his other self. 'So…then I suppose that means you've got some idea why I'm here.'
"Actually…I don't. I assume my loss of contact with my host is a side effect of this spell, meaning that he was the target, and not I. Your presence here seems to be something of an anomaly. The receiver was to be faced with a recreation of himself in order to relearn information…which Satoshi-sama must be experiencing." He sighed, silently wondering what "information" the Niwa boy wanted his Tamer to relearn. "Your presence, though…is unexpected. What could your purpose possibly be, I wonder?"
The wicked grin on the images lips widened, and he stated simply, 'A simple question.'
"Oh, is that all?" Krad crossed his arms, "Then do get on with it. I want contact reinstated between myself and Satoshi-sama as soon as possible, and I'm not above using force to get what I want."
'You aren't?' his mirror queried innocently, 'Now, that wouldn't seem to be the case to me. In fact, it appears that, of late, you've started to…well, how should I put this: cooperate. Yes, that's the term I'm looking for.' He leveled a cold gaze at Krad, the smile completely dissipated by now. 'You, Krad of the Hikari, have stooped to cooperation…with a human!'
Krad froze, heart slowing to a single thump before seeming to stop altogether. He recomposed himself quickly, though, and stated simply, "That wasn't a question."
'Very well then, answer me this: Why? Why change, why abandon your centuries-old duty, your pride garnered over those same centuries, your loyalty to this family—for a human?'
Not opting to point out that his mirror had most definitely asked more than one question, he instead attacked the brutal characterization of his host. "Satoshi-sama is no mere mortal for you to sneer at; he is your Tamer, and I'll not have any part of me, past or present, speak of him in such a manner. You defer to him—in all matters."
'You speak so high and mightily of that boy—when he barely grants you a passing thought. Gifting him such attentions when he'd as soon step on you as stare at you. It's pathetic!'
"I don't do it because it's glamorous. I do it because I want to."
'Then more's the pity. You vie so for his attentions…and he despises you.'
"He doesn't—" Krad began sharply, then caught himself and gathered his thoughts, continuing in a more measured tone, "…despise me…like he used to. He's told me so on more than one occasion."
'How the boy feels was not the question; I asked why. What possessed you to become so—so involved with this host! Take what you want and break him! He's just a mortal—he cannot stand up to you! Why—just why!'
"It takes all the pleasure out of the getting of the matter, if that which I seek is taken by force. I wish it to be freely offered, not simply plundered for my own pleasure. You can't—" A frustrated sigh.
"He is…no mere mortal. He is my Tamer first, a Hikari second, anything else third. And that, if nothing else, merits respect. He is radiant in all that he does, in that he indulges me my little whims—"
'Your whims!' the image cried, 'Do you hear yourself? You're not having tea with that child—you want to bed him! And as such, just take it and be done! You've no reason to stoop to—'
"I don't want to just—it's not as simple as that anymore! You may not have encountered it yet, but you will. You too will come to stand upon that precipice with your few options laid open before you, and will choose him over this family. To serve…the one who will make you feel…"
'Feelings,' his mirror scoffed, eyes narrowing, 'We've no need for such trivialities. With our purpose so clear, I cannot imagine that you'd even have time for those things. Oh—wait!' He paused, as if recalling something, 'That's right—you've abandoned your purpose.'
"I have done no such thing! I battle Dark as I always have—"
'Not as you always have—you lack your telltale intensity.'
"Perhaps, but I have not slackened my pace. Rather…Satoshi-sama has served as a catalyst and urges me on. He and I share now…what no other host has ever granted me: status as an equal, partner in a compromise. He doesn't see me as his Tamed; true, he may despise me, but he at least does so with the belief that I am just another existence, no lower or higher in rank than he.
"And it was he who first granted me tears—the first in so long I cannot recall when last I experienced them. He graced me with his pain—pain caused by me, and I cannot help but change and relieve him of it. When his tears fell like so much rain on my consciousness…I knew then. Knew that any feelings I'd felt towards him were irreparably changed. I could not treat him as before, would bow to his wishes with nary an objection."
'And thus we return to square one: why? What would it matter if there was one more miserable human on this planet—what would it matter that it was even your own host? You've made their lives miserable before—Izumi-sama would attest to that—why start now?'
"The difference is that now…I can regret…"
The image froze, face going slack. '…Regret…?'
A solemn nod. "I cannot look at him without it piercing me to the core. Knowing that it was always me—always my fault. That such a beautiful being has been brought so low simply by my careless actions and words…
"Why? I don't suppose I really know why. Even I can't understand it. I couldn't pinpoint when I changed, couldn't say, 'Oh yes, that day I was the Krad of before, and on the following morn I changed.' And it's precisely for that reason that I cannot tell Satoshi-sama of my true intentions with our agreement… I fear seeming weak in his eyes."
'And yet you are weak—such a clever mask we wear, ne?'
"You'll succumb as well, mark me. It will be like an avalanche—once I began wanting to change, to be accepted by him, I couldn't stop, kept wanting to be better and better, to be liked more and more, hoping…always hoping. Always."
'And just what do you intend to do,' the image queried gravely, 'When he tires of your games and sloughs you off like tea dregs? When he never accepts you despite your oh-so-valiant attempts to win his favor? Will you take it and render all your work useless? Or lower your head even further under his yoke? Surely you must tire of such harsh words being flung at you by one who should be under you—in every sense of the term!'
"I will not claim I endeavor so with purely altruistic intentions…for I fervently hope that some sort of miracle will occur that might…" A pause, and he cut himself short.
'…He's defeated you. Krad of the Hikari has finally lost. Not to his blood-borne rival…but to his man-child host, not even fifteen years aged… Dear gods, what has this world come to?'
A wry smile, and Krad closed his golden eyes like snuffing out two candles. "A world in which even one born of stone can come to life… A world where any transformation is possible…"
Silence filled the distance between the mirror and the curse, then:
'Gods help me should I ever end up like you…'
Laughter. "Would that they might, friend. Would that they might. One can only hope that my prayers are heard by someone."
Author's Notes: Yay for stream-of-consciousness! Hope I didn't lose too many people back there--no, those weren't typos, that was just me digging into our boys' minds. Many thanks go to Angel-chan for the help on the German translation (she warns me it wasn't exactly literal, but I hope any German readers don't hold that against me!). Have I successfully turned you all against poor Daisuke? Well, there's still next week, in which Satoshi learns to waltz and Krad makes a decision.