My footsteps echo on the tile floor: Click, click. Like nails drumming on a window pain while the soul watches the falling rain slam into the ground. I'm not exactly sure where I'm going; just that getting out of here is something I need to do. Maybe it's how a stallion feels when the sunlight shines on his mane and his tail swishes impatiently because it knows wherever it is, that's not the right place for it. Not that I really know what the sun and wind and rain feels like, because I've been too cold, and too numb to notice it. Sure, there is warmth that touches my skin like gentle fingers, but yet I can't feel anymore than that, and I know I should. The wind is a slight annoyance that comes occasionally, biting at the skin. I've heard it feels like kisses on the cheek, but there is no deeper meaning to wind than a natural occurrence. Rain is cold, harsh and bitter. That's just nature in a nutshell. Its funny how something that seemingly complex can be put into a few simple words. Like me. Everyone whispers
"Oh, it's Satoshi. I wonder what he's thinking." Or "Hiwatari, you're quiet. What are you thinking?" Well, usually I'm thinking about Dark, Krad, or Niwa. Why do I think about Niwa so much? Krad says I'm attached to him. Krad knows nothing, and yet he knows everything at the same time. I often wonder if Niwa feels the same way, trapped by his other soul. Somehow I don't think so. He is pure, so it should be no bother to him if the kaitou hears his thoughts. But I'm not pure – so I care. Caring about anything is foolish. That's the one thing Krad and I agree on. He says that he cares about me…but that has to be a lie. Secretly, if there are any secrets in his soul, we have a hate/hate relationship. I know it. Sure, he whispers "Master, master, stop hurting yourself" and the poisonous lie of "I care about you more than anything" . His lie is a poison stronger than cyanide, because while cyanide and arsenic seep through the body, lies seep through the soul. You can't nullify poison of the soul. It kills you from the inside out. Slowly, so slowly, the poison crept from my soul, and into my hands. Those hands grasp the dagger…..which draws my own blood. I wish I could stain those wings of white. Krad doesn't deserve them. They are too pure for him, too innocent, too beautiful. Though Krad is beautiful, it is in a morbid way. His wings should be black and blood-red – then I could marvel at them. I could run my fingers along the feathers and feel that they belonged on our back, in our body. Funny how I think 'our', now. I accept that my body isn't mine anymore. But somehow, I don't think it ever was, even when I was eight or nine. "The body is the first thing you have control over" , so they say. More lies, because my body will never be mine. It will always be Krad's, or my stepfather's. or the dagger's, or death's. It will never be 'Satoshi's'.
I fear Death. Death and Hell are synonymous. I don't believe in Heaven, only in Hell. I've seen angels…but not from Heaven. See, Krad and Dark are two sides of one coin, right? And I've determined they're both from Hell. Krad certainly is, and as for Dark…he's a thief. Am I supposed to believe Heaven has room for thieves and killers? So if they are both part of one coin, and that is The Coin, the one that represents what is real and true in this world – then there is no good. I can believe that. Niwa is the one good thing in this whole damn world and he's tainted by the kaitou. Just the thought that the search for good is futile…makes me want to scream. Though I live in darkness, I search for the light. But I don't think that there is any.
Do I call myself 'Hikari', or 'Hiwatari'? Krad calls me 'hikari' or 'light'. Maybe it's because I'm lighter than him. I used to be, anyway.