"Daisuke, he's freakin' me out. He hasn't even said a word." A boy nudged his shoulder.

"Uh. Try hitting him or something," Another classmate suggested. Daisuke's eyes slid to where Takeshi was sitting dazedly in his seat, staring straight ahead. Satoshi was gone today, so Daisuke was preparing himself for a day of staring at the back of Riku's head without interruption. He couldn't be bothered with what Takeshi was doing right now.

"No, we tried," the other kid returned. Daisuke blinked and turned his neck around to see that indeed, Takeshi had a completely vacant look on his face, a goofy smile planted there.

"Hey, Takeshi," Daisuke called at him. "You there?"

"…Ye-ah," Takeshi replied, leaning back to look at the ceiling dreamily. The teacher interrupted their one-way conversation by thrusting a paper into Daisuke's hand quite suddenly. Daisuke turned again and looked up at her: "'Scuse me, sensei, what's this?"

"I received a call from Satoshi," the teacher replied. "He's out sick. Since you and he are such great friends, will you take this to his house for me?"

Geh. Satoshi's house? Daisuke knew where it was, but he sure as hell didn't want to go there. Not now, not ever. He opened his mouth to say something to the teacher along the lines of sorry, I don't even know him that well and he's just a creepy stalkerish guy anyways, please don't make me go to his house when he felt the back of his collar lifted and he rose about an inch out of his seat.

"Sure thing, sensei!" Takeshi beamed in a bright voice, obviously done with the dreaming. "C'mon, Dai, buddy. We're going."

Once they were safely outside Daisuke hissed a whisper at him: "Why're we doing this?"

"Aren't you the least bit excited to know where he lives?" Takeshi said, delighted by the prospect. Daisuke shook his head violently. "No, I am not."

Whoo, this is too much fun to resist, came Dark's voice, who was now awake.

Oh, damn. Why did he always have to watch Daisuke's most embarrassing moments? It wasn't enough that he never got a moment of peace to himself, even in his dreams. Because Dark could enter those too, if he wanted. Even the wet ones.

"Well, you know the way, and she already gave you the paper. So let's go."

Daisuke finally relented after a long argument and led off in the right direction, huffing with annoyance.

Twenty minutes later they were there: a modest apartment, completely average in every way. "Is this where he lives? Jeez, I'dve thought something bigger… yanno, 'cause I see him riding around in that limo sometimes and I always thought he was rich," Takeshi said, yawning.

"Dunno. Don't think that's his style," Daisuke said, and rung the bell.

They waited.

"Wonder if his family lives here too?" Takeshi ventured, and the door clicked open suddenly. Satoshi looked out, his glasses just perched on the edge of his nose, wearing a white silk shirt that was lazily buttoned only on the first button, and designer jeans that looked as if they'd cost more than a car. He looked like a male model that had just happened to fall straight out of bed.

"Takeshi?" He said. He didn't look sick at all. Not even close. He just looked the same way he always did, with impeccable ivory skin, even if he was on the borderline of pale. And then he opened the door wider, and his eyebrows lifted. "And Daisuke. Come in, I guess."

"No, no, it's okay, here, this is just your homework," Daisuke said, and stuck out the folder awkwardly. He wanted to do no such thing.

"You've come all the way here. You might as well," Satoshi suggested as he plucked the folder neatly from Daisuke's hand, and then looked up at Takeshi with cool evenness. Takeshi stared at Daisuke. "Come on, you big pansy. Pleeeeeease?" he begged.

Daisuke's brow creased. "Uh, okay," he said

Takeshi pushed past the door with a cackle and whoop, then ran inside.

Satoshi looked at him with only mild confusion, then back to Daisuke. "Is he… mentally ill?"

"No, I think he wants to cook for you." He'd been friends with Takeshi long enough to know that the guy had a good heart, even if he was a little bold most of the time. Well, all of the time. Satoshi motioned and Daisuke stepped uncomfortably into the apartment. The door clicked behind him, and Satoshi drew the lock. And then another.

"Guess you're locked in now," he said in an ominously unreadable tone.

Daisuke shivered.

"Too bad. And no wings to fly away, either."

I hate this kid, Dark said. Change the subject.

He gave a small gulp. "Are… you sick, then?" he forced out, trying to distract Satoshi from the conversation at hand. Satoshi looked startled, or as startled as he ever looked, which was not at all. "No, I wasn't," he replied. "But don't tell Takeshi. Saves me the trouble of cooking."

The next ten minutes consisted of Daisuke sitting on the couch across from Satoshi, with Satoshi looking completely unruffled in the slightest. He never did. He was always cool and casual, always completely apathetic.

After what seemed like a decade, Takeshi waltzed in with plates of god-knew-what. He was a fantastic chef, because he had to cook for himself in his father's constant absence. Daisuke knew, because he'd seen for himself, and was all too eager to sit down at the table. Takeshi settled down next to Daisuke, and Satoshi across from them both, and then Takeshi fiddled into his pocket and produced a package.

"So what do you think of this?" He said, and Satoshi fingered the flap, opened it, and pulled out a photograph. It was of a young girl, no older than Daisuke himself, and she was very, very beautiful. Her face was sad, her eyes looking as if she was haunted by the ghosts of her past each moment she lived.

"She looks foreign," Satoshi replied in the flat voice he used with everyone except Daisuke.

"Well, duh. But I mean…" Takeshi blushed—blushed—and went on. "I took it myself last night. I was looking around that museum, the one where the Agate Links is, and I saw her there, and I took that. Do you know who she is?"

"No, I don't," Satoshi replied.

He's lying, Dark said. I know her, and so does he, little bastard. That's Menou.

Daisuke couldn't say anything back, lest he appear like he was talking to himself. So he merely gave a shrug and shook his head as well. "Never seen her."

"Well, damn. I'm going there tonight, you'll see," Takeshi said, suddenly afire, and began to eat. So did Daisuke and Satoshi. It was actually pretty good- curry with rice, not too spicy, and cooked to perfection. "Hey, this isn't bad," Daisuke remarked.

"Better be good. That's Takeshi Saehara Curry." Daisuke didn't pay attention to the rest of Takeshi's babblings, because he was busy watching Satoshi watch him. There was an unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach that somehow there was something more to this meeting than just Satoshi being ill. He'd said himself he wasn't.

Satoshi ate like a normal guy. Which was surprising, but not too surprising. This act of complete humanness on someone so alien was odd, and struck Daisuke as almost funny.

What'd you expect? That he had an inverted stomach like a starfish, or fed through his pores, or something? Dark had a good laugh at that. He laughed at his own jokes a lot. It was annoying, sometimes.

"Well, get off to the living room, I'm gonna clean," Satoshi finished, not having at all noticed the silent battle between the other two boys. He whisked away the other plates: "But m'warning you, I'm slow at cleaning. Hate this part." He winked and disappeared, leaving Satoshi and Daisuke utterly alone.

"He's in love. Seems easy," Satoshi remarked then. Daisuke eased himself off the dining chair and back into the meager living room, noting that Satoshi did not seem to have any kind of family. All the possessions were easily recognized as his. Most were unused: a chair that hadn't a speck of dust on it, a plasma TV collecting a film on the screen with the packing sticker still on the cord, a lamp that wasn't plugged in. Satoshi, to his mute horror, followed him, and sat just next to him on the couch.

"Yeah, well," Daisuke replied in a low voice.

"Still seeing Harada?"

"Yes." If what they had could be considered dating. It was more like friendship than an actual relationship so far.

"But you don't love her."

This caught Daisuke completely and totally off guard. "No, I guess not. I mean, sure, I like her a lot, and she's nice and all… Don't know if I love her…" he was talking on and on, and he couldn't stop his mouth moving. But somewhere deep in his heart he had a silent fear that Satoshi would do something awful to Riku. One of these days.

"Then who do you love?"

He froze.

Dark stirred inside of him, like a cat stretching out a paw lazily. Oh, he's good.

"Not your other half, surely?" the question was like a grip on his heart. Satoshi leaned closer and casually curled his fingers around Daisuke's schooltie, applying just enough pressure so their heads leaned together as if they were sharing a secret. "That's dangerous," he said quietly.

"How would you know that?" Daisuke said, trying to keep a laughing tone in his voice, as if he just thought Satoshi was making a great joke. "Besides," he continued, "I mean, Dark's a part of me, so that wouldn't work, and you know it wouldn't…"

"I wonder… if he's a part of you, could I get him to show himself?" Satoshi said smoothly, and his free hand landed itself on Daisuke's knee. He was now leaning over Daisuke in a manner that was incredibly… well, awkward for Daisuke. He felt his cheeks flame bright red, up to the very roots of his hair. He liked Riku. He liked Riku. I like Riku, and I like Riku, and I like Riku, and I like…

"Ah… Satoshi, Listen! I…" he leaned back into the couch, away from that electric touch, though their eyes remained locked. Satoshi was creating a feeling in him that was very, very unusual. He didn't even have a name for it. He'd never felt anything like it before.

"If your body reacts to external stimulation, such as a photograph of Harada," he said in the same tone he would have used to describe the weather, or a science project, "I wonder if it reacts to other kinds of romantic stimulation as well…?"

"Satoshi, I don't wanna change right now… please, please just let me go," he half-begged. The sound of water in the other room was audible: Takeshi was still cleaning, and over the noise of the faucet he couldn't hear anything that was going on in the living room. What was taking him so damn long?

Satoshi paused, and then withdrew. Was it just Daisuke's imagination, or did his eyes flicker gold and yellow for a moment?

"Forgive me," he said in an entirely different tone of voice, and bowed his head slightly.

For what, Daisuke wondered, but didn't say anything. He leapt up from the couch, grabbed Takeshi, who was done, and left.

Daisuke sat back and watched through Dark's eyes as the thief skirted the tops of one rooftop, then the next. "Happy to watch, Dai?" he said out loud with a grin as he hopped over a chimney, then ran down the next slant of roof, towards the museum.

I'm tired. I don't want to have to deal with Satoshi, anyways.

"Think he'll be here?"

He's always here.

"Well, that's his job, I guess." Dark sighed, swung into a bedroom through an open window and leapt out the other side without waking a single occupant. Finally it was time: He reached behind him, into the pack that Daisuke's mother always insisted he carry, and brought a tiny, shaking white creature out of the bag. It looked like a cross between a rabbit and a mouse, with enormous red eyes. "Wiz, time to go," Dark whispered.

Seconds later they were flying.

"You haven't even kissed Riku yet, have you?" Dark loved to tease Daisuke about his lack of relationship with Riku, but right now Daisuke was just not in the mood.

Shut up.

"Aw, too bad, kid. Looks like I'm still the only one."

…Shut… up. Daisuke mentally cringed inside Dark's mind. As much as he hated to admit it, it was true. He'd only ever been touched in that way by his other half, which was sometimes an embarrassment and sometimes an enlightment.

Inside, Dark found a rogue spirit. Menou. The girl from the photograph. She was sitting on the display case, hands folded demurely as they entered.

"Weeeeell, if it isn't Menou," Dark said with a smile.

"Who… are… you…?" she asked, her eyes blank and foggy.

"I've come to take the Agate Links," Dark replied.

"Please," she said, her voice softening, wavering; "Can I have one more day? I'm waiting for him, and he hasn't come, and I don't even know if he will. But I want to see him if I can. Just one more day."

Dark seemed to consider, and Daisuke saw fragments of several thoughts running through his mind. While Dark had had 300 years to perfect his memory and mind reading skills, Daisuke had had only two months. He wasn't very good at it. Dark finally stepped forward, bowed, and pressed her hand to his lips.

"I accept the lovely lady's deal," he said, grinned one of those charming smiles, and turned around, departing through the night on Wiz's wings. They met no sign of Satoshi, which was half enlightening and half disappointing—it was no fun without providing some kind of challenge to Dark. And this time, Dark made sure the news cameras caught him fully on tape, leaving the place.

He didn't want them to think he'd stolen it or anything.