Aww, my very last chapter. Sniffle, sniffle.
Daisuke got less awkward and a bit smoother with age. Huzzah!
"Fuck! I'm sorry, really, I am. I can't go five feet without doing something like this." The red-haired man smiled wistfully as he crouched, picking up the menus he'd knocked out of the waitress' hands.
She nodded in return, spellbound by him. There wasn't a way to describe him, but he was extremely handsome, and not a little charming in manner. Once again his red eyes flashed at her as he handed her the pile of menus, neatly stacked. "Sorry again," he murmured, one hand rising to his throat to fix his tie.
"No, no, it's my fault, sir," she said with a modest lowering of her head. "Don't worry about it, please. And if there's anything I can get you, my name's Kaoru."
He grinned. "All-right, Kaoru. I'll remember that." And waltzed his way out of sight. The waitress could only sigh after him, wondering if she'd seen a god.
But then Daisuke tended to have that effect on people.
This was one of those fancy restaurants where all the waiters were in white and black and the menus were hand-calligraphied, and the tables were set with immaculate cloths. Where there were three kinds of forks and more than enough fantastic wine to make you want to get drunk as hell, but one never got drunk in a restaurant like this because it just didn't happen.
The hostess blushed as he approached, another usual response to Daisuke's proximity. "Hello," he greeted politely. "Any chance that a member of the Niwa party has arrived? Reservation for two?" he asked her.
"Oh! Um," she said, looking down at her book. "Yes, right over there, sir." She pointed to the side of the room.
This was Satoshi's kind of place. And sure enough, there he was, reading the menu, head tilted to the side just so as if he were posing for some kind of modeling campaign. His eyes were downcast and he was wearing those spectacles which he didn't actually need, perched on the edge of his nose. Daisuke had seen him often enough, every day for quite some time, but no matter how many times he caught sight of Satoshi looking so relaxed he never quite managed to catch his breath.
He came up behind the table, suddenly inspired, and whisked the menu straight out of Satoshi's hands, head lowered so as to be right over the man's shoulder. Satoshi jumped visibly in his seat: "Jesus! I hate it when you do that. Where've you been?" he asked, snapping his reading spectacles smartly into place and sliding them into his shirt pocket as he leaned back into his chair.
"You got a table without me," Daisuke accused teasingly, sliding into the other side of the table and leaning over the center. "Happy birthday, by the way."
"Ngh, don't remind me," Satoshi said, putting a hand over his eyes. "And besides, you were late. By twenty minutes."
"We can't all be perfect like you."
Banter like this was rather common between them. It was just how they seemed to work best together.
"Can't believe it's been ten years since all of that stuff ended, anyways," Daisuke added. "It doesn't seem that long, when you think about it."
"Again, don't remind me. I'm glad all that's done with," Satoshi replied. The waitress came over; obviously Kaoru had pulled some strings with the other waitstaff and was now getting the distinct pleasure of serving them. As soon as she walked away with their order she whisked off to the opposite side of the room, where several of the other female waiters were pressed against the wall in a gaggle. Immediately they all looked over towards the couple of absolutely beautiful men and began giggling like hormonal fangirls.
"So. How's it feel to be twenty four?" Daisuke asked when she was gone. "Enjoy it, 'cause it'll be gone tomorrow. Get wasted or something. Have fun, for once."
"Yeah, well," Satoshi said, tone dismal. "It's not all that great. Just makes me think. Call me morbid, but I always expected to be dead before I got to be this old."
Their drinks came. Kaoru sped off as soon as the wine was on the table. Daisuke picked up his glass, raised it in a toast. "To not being dead," he announced, before they knocked the rims together and drank. "And to having a damn good life on top of that," he added.
"I don't think 'damn good' is the word for med school," Satoshi said. "But whatever floats. At least I'll be making money. You don't have to deal with five-hour nights, anyways."
"Yeah, 'cause art school is for the freaks and losers," Daisuke said with a grin.
"Right. Of which you are both," Satoshi said, hand moving to Daisuke's under the table.
"Naturally."
The food was good. The wine was good. The music was fantastic. What else could Satoshi want for his birthday, Daisuke wondered? Well, there was always the dessert, but that came later and he was definitely in the mood. Hell, he wasn't afraid to admit that he was in love with the man. They were crazy for each other, whether it was right or not. He got to missing Satoshi when the man was in school, and sometimes the hole was so great all he could do was sit by and paint. The entire study in their shared house was covered with paintings of various shapes and sizes. When a local collector had come by and shown interest in his art, offering to buy what he could churn out if it was good, Daisuke had started receiving commissions by the handful, to his surprise.
He'd always liked computers, so it was only natural that he combined the two and went in for graphic design. He and Satoshi would be graduating soon and then they would be—gasp—actually released into the world. Now there was a scary thought.
"Dai, you okay?" He asked, flicking at the redhead's chin. Daisuke blinked once: "Yeah, just thinking," he said, looking down to the bill under his hands and sliding his credit card in before setting it aside for the waitress to pick up.
"I'll pay," Satoshi protested.
"No. It's your birthday. I'm not even gonna hear it," Daisuke said, shaking his head. Sure, Satoshi's family had money, and he was well off after the recent death of his foster father. But that was no reason for him to buy everything. Daisuke liked having the knowledge that he could do something for Satoshi, make him happy in some small way, even if it was buying a nice dinner once in a while or something like that.
Kaoru came and picked up the check, her eyes glued to the two men the entire time she did so. "Thank you so much for coming!" she piped up enthusiastically before turning away to go swipe the credit card. Satoshi took a moment to peer at her retreating figure before turning back to Daisuke. "Did you drive or take a cab?"
"I drove," Daisuke replied. "I was in the mood. I'll drive back. You've been working too hard lately. You need to take a break once in a while, yeah?" he finished off the last of his wine and set down the empty glass as the waitress returned their check and card. "And have a wonderful night," she gushed before backing off.
Daisuke came round to Satoshi's side of the table, handed him his jacket off the back of his chair as Satoshi stood and rolled down the cuffs on his shirt. Kaoru was still staring from a safe distance, and as Satoshi finished with his cuff Daisuke threw one arm around Satoshi's waist and guided him out the front door, bodies side by side.
"What was that? You're usually anti-touch in public," Satoshi admonished when they were outside.
"She was practically drooling on herself. I was just providing the masses with what they demand." Daisuke gave a dramatic sigh.
"So I noticed. Hmm."
"It's 'cause you're sex on wheels, and she was jealous. I'm the luckiest bastard alive, you know that?" They had come to the parking lot and Daisuke fished out his keys from his pocket. The drive home was filled with restaurant critique, school-related chatter, and other smalltalk. But Daisuke was secretly excited. He'd sworn to himself that this year's gift would be the best one ever. Or gifts, rather, since he'd picked out three.
They pulled up to the house, closing the garage door with a flick of the button. The gift itself was sitting underneath the back seat, proof of the reason why Daisuke had been twenty minutes late to dinner. Daisuke didn't know how to wrap at all, being a guy, and so the gift was wrapped in tissue paper and a decorative bag.
Daisuke climbed into the back seat and pulled out the bag.
"Yeah, it's for you," Daisuke said in reply to his questioning look, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Go ahead. Hope you like it."
Satoshi leaned forward, took the bag with three parcels in it and unwrapped the first, the present coming to light beneath slim fingers, one of the parts of Satoshi's anatomy that Daisuke happened to like best. The nails were always perfectly filed, hands immaculately clean, no trace of dirt anywhere. But then he was training to be a surgeon. That required clean hands.
"Hmm, a watch?" Satoshi asked, looking down at the gold watch resting inside its case. Daisuke nodded: "Yeah, that one you've been carrying around for six years looks like it's ready to snap in half. And it leaks when you put it in water."
"True. I've been meaning to get another. This is great," he said with a truly happy grin, moving onto the second package. This one was a hardcover copy of Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes collection, unabridged. Satoshi had been into foreign literature lately and Daisuke knew he'd been just dying to find books where he could. At this the grin only got wider. Daisuke knew he had chosen well. "And it's in English still. You really went all-out, didn't you?"
"Yeah, well. The cashier said the Japanese version was choppy."
And then the third present.
Satoshi's hands skimmed over the tiny jewelry box, wondering what the hell kind of jewelry it was. Not a ring, because he never wore rings, and Daisuke had already gotten him a watch…
He flipped it open. Inside was a thin silver chain, onto which was strung two feathers: one white and one black. They hadn't become curled or dirty with age, but were still in the unsoiled state Daisuke had found them in, ten years ago.
"…Are these what I think they are?" Satoshi asked, quieting.
"Yeah. One from each."
He looked up at Daisuke, eyes wide. "But where? Where'd you find them?"
"The black one was no problem. I used to find 'em in my bed after Dark had gone on a job. The white one I found on my windowsill the morning after you stayed over that one night. Remember when you collapsed outside school and I… uh, took you to my house?" Daisuke was getting a faint color to his cheeks, just by spouting the memory. Satoshi nodded: "Yeah, I remember. Your mom was crazy."
"Mhm." Daisuke grinned. "That's mom."
Ever since Dark had disappeared, Emiko had calmed down. Kosuke had stopped traveling and gotten a job as a research scientist, something he'd been doing before he'd started dealing in magical artifacts and was actually quite good at. Life at Daisuke's house had been peaceful. He knew that growing up had been hard for Satoshi without real parents or siblings, and had spent the last decade trying to be there as much as possible for him. He was Satoshi's family.
Satoshi's eyes lowered. "God, Daisuke. This is… great. This is the best thing I could have asked for." He fastened the chain around his neck easily, looking down at it like it was priceless instead of a couple of feathers that might have come from any bird. "You're amazing, you know that?"
"Happy birthday, princess," Daisuke said, just because he knew it hit a button when he used girly pet names like that. And he was right. Satoshi's eyes narrowed and he wrapped Daisuke up in a tight hug, moving over the stick and halfway into the back seat to do so. "Told you not to call me that," he said against the side of the redhead's face. "Makes me sound like a woman."
Nobody could ever mistake Satoshi for a girl. To Daisuke it happened more often, because as he had grown he had somehow avoided gaining much weight. He was slender and lithe, with stark red hair that was getting to be below his ears now and was spiky, just like his father's had been. He'd also inherited his mother's small, sensual mouth and her big eyes, making him look even prettier than most girls at his college.
"I just… love you. So much," Satoshi said, hand curling up to touch Daisuke's hair. "Everything. About you. I don't deserve this."
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to hit me up," Daisuke asked mysteriously.
"Who, me?" Satoshi replied, grabbing him by the tie and grinning like a wolf. "Daisuke, Daisuke, Daisuke. Would I ever do something so lewd and inappropriate?"
"Maybe," Daisuke said, a hint of that old shyness creeping into his voice, but just for a second. "But it's all-right with me. I can have bragging rights," he said, stretching out lengthwise in the backseat.
"Bragging rights?" Satoshi asked, one eyebrow raising in that demure way.
"Yeah. I was seduced by Satoshi Hiwatari for ten years straight."
"Hmm," Satoshi said, and kissed him, his lips molding so easily to Daisuke's own, tongues sliding and teeth grazing. Utterly erotic and perfect to an art over the years; by now sex was nothing new between them. It was the foreplay which made it great, the things leading up to making love which seemed to make life so interesting.
He wasn't shy about touching Satoshi's hair anymore, which was the best thing. His hands slipped through it like it was water as their mouths joined. It was still the same length it had been when he was younger, because Satoshi never deviated from a strict pattern of cutting it. They were odd that way. Who would have thought a Niwa could become an artist, or a Hikari a doctor? Both were contradictions.
As Satoshi pressed him down onto the seats, the tie was suspiciously loose, and Daisuke flicked it off and onto the floor in one motion. Satoshi's knee was pressed inbetween Daisuke's legs for stability as they worked on getting each other's clothes off as quickly as possible, mouths breaking apart for the moment.
"Satoshi, we're in the car," he said in disbelief.
"Don't care. Want you," he said in a curt voice, popping the release to let the backs of the seats fold down. More space now.
"Damnit, why do people...have to wear… clothes…" Daisuke said, fiddling with Satoshi's pants in an almost angry determination. Satoshi grinned. "And I thought you could open anything, kaitou Dark." Daisuke himself was in nothing but boxers now, and as the clasp finally—finally came undone, Satoshi's pants slid to pool around his ankles.
"I have to do things for myself now," Daisuke said with a lifting of his eyebrows, and then pulled Satoshi over until they were side by side on the seats, kissing with renewed fervor. Satoshi nudged his knees apart. Daisuke's eyes widened slightly: "Wait, I just remembered I forgot to lock the front door when I left…" he said, rising his back off the bed and fully preparing to get off and go lock it.
Satoshi's hand reached out and pressed Daisuke's wrists down on the bed, effectively locking him in place. Satoshi smiled. "It's my birthday, and I say damn the door. You're not leaving now." But when he caught sight of Daisuke's eyes, he immediately stopped holding onto Daisuke's wrists. The man was breathing hard, pupils dilated and his entire body rigid.
"Shit, I'm sorry, Dai. I forgot," Satoshi apologized, trying to snap Daisuke out of his mood. When he got like this, all tense and withdrawn, Satoshi knew he was remembering Dark and the times the phantom thief had raped him, or forced him down while he did other things. All he could do was be patient.
Daisuke had learned to control the panic attacks through the years, though they still came once in a while. Satoshi could have kicked himself. Why did he have to be so stupid and ruin everything?
"No, it's fine," Daisuke said slowly, pulling himself out of the cloud of fear. "Just… you know how it is."
"Yeah. You want something to drink?"
"Nah, I'm good," Daisuke said, and ran his hands down the sides of Satoshi's body absentmindedly. Satoshi looked at him with concern, but since Daisuke seemed to have recovered quickly, he figured this was one of the lesser-scale panic attacks and that Daisuke would be all-right for the moment. "If anything's wrong, I'll stop," he assured him.
"You won't hurt me. I know that," Daisuke said. It was what Satoshi had promised the first time, and told him every time they made love after that. It was what he whispered in his ear just before they did anything together. It was a promise, and a lifeline. To Daisuke it was like a wall separating Satoshi from Dark in his mind.
"No, I won't," Satoshi said, as Daisuke wriggled out of his boxers and they, too, dropped to the car floor. Satoshi's hand came up and brushed against his cheek softly; Daisuke sighed. The man was like a balm for him, healing all the oldest wounds that he'd never even known had been there.
When Satoshi had suggested he go to therapy for the first time, he'd been baffled. Why would he need therapy? But then Satoshi had pointed out that there were nights when Daisuke woke up screaming, or went into a panic so large that he didn't recognize people. Once Daisuke had blanked in the middle of grocery shopping and nearly collapsed, for no reason at all.
But he was afraid. He didn't want to admit that things like that had happened to him from the time he was fourteen until almost his fifteenth birthday. Rape was something that happened to women and weak girls, not… not men. Not him. He didn't need therapy. He was healing with time, becoming better as long as he stayed with Satoshi. Satoshi was like a balm on his soul, mending up all the wounded parts and making him whole again as he did the same to the other man.
Satoshi's teeth grazed over his neck and then down to his collarbone, pressing a kiss there before moving downward slowly, hands a blur as they roamed over his body. I'm safe now. I don't have to worry about anything—I'm a fucking adult, I shouldn't still be scared of Dark when he's been gone for ten years! Daisuke said to himself in his mind. This was Satoshi's birthday. He couldn't afford to get lost in memories tonight.
When Daisuke found Satoshi's erection, sliding his palm over the head before deepening his grasp, Satoshi's back arched up off the seat in a silent scream. He wasn't uncomfortable, though his head pressed against the car door as he tried to find a better position, tried to both avoid and move into the pleasure which was circulating around his hips.
With a smile, Daisuke knew he'd found the right spot and began rubbing right there as Satoshi's breathing turned into a real effort and not just a natural process, the man twisting under him. "Hmm, there we go," Daisuke said absently. Satoshi, in reply, grabbed a lock of Daisuke's hair and pulled him down to ravish him with another kiss.
By now he knew that the soft skin just before Satoshi's opening was the right spot to win him over completely. His fingers slipped past his shaft and further down, brushing the area lightly. Satoshi's head hit back against the seat and he sucked in breath: "God! Daisuke!"
Daisuke gave a mischevious grin and didn't let up in his ministrations as the older man was reduced to breathy words and half-formed sentences. He could tell by now when Satoshi was close to release, after ten years of this, and they were hardly shy around each other. Though their schedules were packed they were used to having sex whenever it was possible, which hadn't been very often lately.
I'm disgusting. I don't deserve his love.
He told that voice to go away, the thought jerking into his mind as Satoshi spilled onto him, making a loud cry that Daisuke never heard otherwise. He was beautiful when he did this. Satoshi was a quiet man, and hardly ever raised his voice above an almost-whisper. Daisuke relished the noise and cut it off with another kiss as he smothered their bodies together, side by side.
"I'm going to fucking kill you if you don't have—" Satoshi began, but Daisuke laughed. "Yeah, yeah. Wait a second."
He reached over the center console and into the passenger seat, popping the glove compartment and whisking out the small blue container. The first few times he'd lubricated Satoshi, he'd found the process awkward and embarrassing, but now he did it with practiced ease and a smile on his face.
It had taken a long time for Satoshi to break him of the idea that making love was supposed to be enjoyable, not searing or painful. And it had taken even longer to get Daisuke to stop spooking when Satoshi grabbed him suddenly, or tried something new, or brought up Dark at all.
But here he was, a successful, upstanding young man with a promising future.
…Having sex in the back of a car. Whoo.
He finished covering Satoshi and withdrew his hands: the man still had a hard-on. Daisuke was almost jealous of his stamina; it was crazy. But then that was Satoshi, perfect in every way. Daisuke could have died from happiness as Satoshi rolled them over so he was on top, his face covered in a thin sheen of sweat and exertion. Daisuke himself was panting, to his surprise, whether in anticipation or anxiousness he didn't know.
One finger. Two. Three. How often did Satoshi do this for him, slip those long fingers inside him as a prequel to what came afterwards? So often it was scary, and he never stopped feeling the same electric pleasure each time. But more than that there was a bone-deep sense of warmth and completeness that came from knowing everything about Satoshi and having the other man know the same. Favorite color, favorite drink, car, place in Tokyo, restaurant, even type of bottled water. All these little details built up over the years until he and Satoshi might as well have shared the same brain.
They were so in love it was almost scary that they hadn't gotten tired of each other yet. Sure, they had fights, but that was once in a while and the shouting matches usually didn't last too long. Both of them were flexible. Traumatized, broken shrink cases, maybe. But definitely dynamic when it came to relationships.
The blunt pressure between his legs built as Satoshi pressed into him, slow and smooth. As always there was discomfort for the first second or two, but it was followed by a thrum so deep and mind-boggling that it was a miracle he didn't come right there. But he wanted this to last, wanted to make it special, so he held back as long as he could.
He didn't count how many times Satoshi moved into him, hitting his prostate in just the right way every time. Satoshi knew him inside and out. They just fit together. Daisuke couldn't imagine anyone else, not Riku or Risa or anyone else he might have met, being there for him but Satoshi. The idea itself was insane.
Daisuke shifted and managed Satoshi's name as he came, lost in his own personal utopia. Satoshi wasn't far behind, and for a few moments they lay there wrapped up and not needing to speak. Just lost in each other. With Dark it had never been at all like this: with Dark everything had been cold and lonely and painful. Night and Day, literally.
He felt all his insecurities burn away under Satoshi's half-lidded eyes, the blue striking him as amazing once again. No matter how many times he saw them he always wondered how anyone could have eyes like that: bluish grey, as constantly changing as the ocean itself. And that mouth—God! Nobody had a mouth like that. Especially when it was covering his, tongue dipping through his parted lips to meet with his own.
Eventually they had to pull apart. The clock read eleven-twenty, which meant that they'd been there for a little over an hour. Nobody would care. They didn't have work in the morning, and would probably end up doing something leisurely anyways, so for now they were content to stay there.
"Ten years," Satoshi said in disbelief, voice hazy. "Ten… years. Do you miss him?"
"No," Daisuke said firmly, though the spike of hatred he felt for Dark was mulled by his own sex-drowsy voice. "I mean, I'm glad he disappeared. Krad too. We needed to have our own lives. We were like little kids playing dress-up phantom thief, you know?"
"I know," Satoshi said. "And I'm glad he's gone. I hated not being able to keep you away from him or anything."
"Yeah. But I always wondered… if maybe he got a body, like he wanted, in the end."
"Maybe. Guess we'll never know," Satoshi said, and kissed him once on the forehead. "We'd probably better get inside."
"My car is trashed. There's cum all over the seat."
"So take it to the cleaners."
"How embarrassing. Think they'll charge extra?"
"Hmm. Maybe." Satoshi beamed, throwing an arm over Daisuke as Daisuke practically dragged him out of the car. Together, somehow, they made it to the bed, clothing in tow, and in a matter of seconds were fast asleep, the radio in the room softly blaring the local classical station just like Satoshi had left it earlier in the day. But neither of them had the energy to bother with turning it off.
In the morning Daisuke found the bed empty, the blankets mussed, and as he walked to the bathroom, yawning, he pulled on his boxers from the previous night, not really caring about hygiene at the moment. He went into the bathroom, scratching his crotch absently as he looked in: nope, no Satoshi.
Downstairs was no different. He still reeked of sex, he was sure, but that was all-right because in all probability Satoshi would too. He found the man in the kitchen, bent over the coffee machine and changing the filter. A steaming pot was on the counter next to him.
"Pour me one. I'm half dead," Daisuke said, coming over behind him. "Morning, love." He pressed a kiss to Satoshi's cheek as the older man returned the greeting with a smirk, complying and handing him a cup as they sat at the meager table.
It took a few moments to settle in, but Daisuke realized that Satoshi was dressed in a pair of shorts and a sleeveless shirt, some high-end running shoes strapped onto his feet. His glasses were missing, as they always were before he went running. Satoshi lifted his brows: "Coming with me, Dai?"
"You're kidding me," Daisuke said, feeling like he'd been hit by a train. "Today?"
"Sure. You need the exercise."
"I had my exercise last night." Satoshi laughed at that, and coffee cup still in hand went over to the bedroom door. A few moments later he came back with a pair of Daisuke's gym clothes, throwing them at him and leaving the redhead to drag them on with a series of complaints and whining. Daisuke leaned back in the chair, his head going over the backside as Satoshi laced up his shoes for him, barely cognizant enough yet to sit up straight, much less go running.
"Coffee'll kick in soon. Come on, you lazy-ass."
"Fine," Daisuke surrendered, moving to the sink to wash his cup out.
He'd been a strong runner all throughout high-school, taking up the sport after Dark and Krad had disappeared and finding that athletics took up the time previously occupied with stealing things. So when Satoshi went jogging he had no trouble keeping up.
They'd been running for about half an hour when they decided on a break, having come through the center of a park as they took a seat. That was the beauty of Tokyo: there was plenty of space to run in, but too many people in the urban areas. On the outskirts one found more places that were breathable. This was Satoshi's favorite park of all, with a statue of some important figure planted in the center of the square.
Nearby was an elementary school, and since it was a Thursday, recess was in session. The fence where the kids were playing was only a few feet off from Daisuke as they sat there on the park bench, trying to catch their breath. Daisuke watched the children flitting about, laughing and giggling as they played tag or cops and robbers. Such an easy age. He remembered being that little.
A red ball bounced over the chain-link fence and into the nearby field, stopping when it glanced against a tree. Daisuke watched its slow progress as it stopped moving, and was surprised to hear a small whoop of joy. One of the children hooked two feet in the fence and clambered up it as nimbly as a cat, throwing themselves gracefully over the other side and landing on their feet, snatching up the ball.
He made a choked sort of noise as the kid looked behind him, making sure nobody had seen him.
Dark! It's Dark!
The kid couldn't have been older than nine, with glossy ashen hair and enormous dark eyes. He was the spitting image of the thief, or what the thief must have looked like if he were ever that young. Daisuke only snatched up Satoshi's shoulder and shook him violently, pointing after the kid. "Satoshi! Look! It's him!"
The kid had been spotted. There was another boy pressed against the fence, a distinctive sneer on his face. This one was a blonde, with steely eyes and a fair complexion. He obviously wasn't Japanese by the look of him, so Daisuke couldn't have seen him before in his life, but something about him was familiar…
…And Krad…?
Satoshi's open-mouthed awe matched his now. They stared after the boys as "Dark" snatched up the ball and ran back to the fence, shimmying up and over it again as if it were nothing. They were sitting only a couple of feet away from the fence itself, so he had to run past them in order to get to it, and they got a good look at his face in the process. Yes, it was Dark, with a few small details changed.
"Derek, I'm gonna tell on yo-ou," the blonde sang, nose wrinkling.
Derek hugged the ball. "Fine, go ahead. See if I care, stupid. She'll just tell you to shut up and then everyone'll know Brad's nothing but a tattletale."
"Nuh-uh! Not if I tell her everything!"
"Don't have any proof!" the kid replied, sticking out his tongue. "So there."
The blonde kid, Brad,was caught there. "Fine. But you have to share it. That's the only one left. I'm stronger'n you, so if you don't, I'll just take it from you!"
"Okay, okay. Jeez." After that nothing could be heard but the faint undercurrent of their voices as they receded into the crowd of rushing children.
Daisuke turned to Satoshi. "That. That was..."
Satoshi shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe it was just coincidence…"
"Derek? Brad?" Daisuke asked. "Doesn't that sound suspiciously like...?"
"I don't know, Daisuke. We probably never will. Let's just go, okay?"
Daisuke noticed the pained expression in Satoshi's eyes for the first time. He really doesn't want to know? He doesn't want to find out if they really are Dark and Krad?
"Daisuke, if that was Krad back there, I don't care. I've got you now. This is my life. You're my life now. Let's put all that in the past where it belongs, okay?"
Daisuke nodded and rose, just wanting to be out of there. He wanted to have his thoughts to himself for once.
If that was Dark, then maybe it was fate that he see what the thief had become. He was glad that he'd seen the kid, for however short of a time, because to him it meant something. It was like an omen had appeared and kicked him in the face, making him realize what he'd never been able to for the last ten years.
I am by myself now. Dark is gone, forever.
He felt himself filling with a sense of relief, realization so deep that it made him want to laugh out loud. Dark was gone! Dark was really never coming back. Sure, he sometimes missed the thief, or even longed for him. He missed the old days once in a while when he and Satoshi had been enemies, when every night was about danger and adrenaline rushes. But all of that was in the past now, and it always would be.
This was what he'd been waiting to find out for the last decade of his life. This was the wondering that had put a damper on his hopes, the fear that had kept him from doing anything with his life for half of his highschool career.
As his blood pulsed through his veins, keeping his legs in, his entire body in motion, he looked over to Satoshi. Side by side they finished the run, went into their own home, the life they had built together. And the whole time only one thought came to mind and circled over and over, a dove landing after the flood.
I am whole.