(Risa)

"Risa?"

Dilated eyes.

"Risa?"

Mom, I am different from society. I am the ugly duckling.

"Risa?"

I am caught in this endless sea. And if someone doesn't save me, I will drown in the icy pond.

"Risa..."

Reality shifts. The memory retreats to the back of my mind, hiding. Just hiding. Hiding in the dark closets of my memory's museum.

I look up.

He adjusts his tie. Taking a deep breath, he says softly, "Risa, pooh-bear...please say something about your mother."

I stare at him blankly. What is there to say? That I hate you for calling me here to this hurtful place...a place that stirs a soup of insufferable memories for me to relive time and time again? Here, where my mother once stood with her perfect toes sunken into the sand, brushing the golden glitter off of her thighs. Every perfect feature of her face...burned. Her hazel eyes...scorched. Her silken tresses...singed.

Wordlessly, I slip out the sea shell from my dress pocket and place it in his hand. Then I will myself to speak. "Mom wanted to be buried with this. Please put it in the jar."

His expression was unchanged. But his eyes danced with the fire of hostility. It was then he deliberately knew I was holding up the funeral because I didn't want to say anything about her.

"Risa..." he said very cautiously, slowly, "Please say something about your mother."

I narrow my eyes and smile the fakest smile anyone ever curled their lips into. "Dad...please stop calling me pooh bear. I am not a child."

Riku was seconds from bursting into tears. The lining of her eyes were moist, and the iris of her red orbs were increasing. "Risa, please." she said, her broken voice barely above a whisper.

"Dad, why are you telling people these things like they don't know who she was? And why are you talking like she can hear you? Is it because you know she can't, but you're lying to yourself anyway?"

He gasped and squeezed the bottom of the urn containing my mother's ashes. He was speechless.

"Children lie to themselves." I whisper, averting my eyes to the soft grains of sand sleeping on my feet.

My father bit his lip as the crowd murmured insidiously. They didn't want to intervene. Only watch. Watch with their piercing eyes, and gossip with their poisonous tongues.

"Risa," he gritted his teeth, "Somewhere up there, or wherever she is, Mommy is looking down on you--"

Our gazes meet. "Up there? Daddy, are you implying there is a heaven? Mom isn't somewhere. She died in the hospital bed...and that was the end."

He takes in a breath full of salty sea air, closing his mouth. Though he wants to talk, though he wants to scream, though he wants to shout...a lone tear runs down his fiery cheek...and all he manages to choke out is...

"Good god, Risa." he breathed.

This endless white hall. These bright lights above me. The women and men in white. Everything is a white abyss. Death makes a pilgrimage here frequently. All my ears can see is the tears. All my eyes can hear is the sobbing. This is not where I want to be. I should be at home. I should be feeling the soft material of her dress now. I should not be walking down this hall.

Panic and terror are dancing in the pit of my stomach. The acid of my insides is flaring and frantic. My heart is a inconsolable drum. My bones are knives caving in on the frightened little girl I am on the inside. My brain is an organ playing a tune of my memory.

I look at the small white card the police gave me. Why is the card white?

"Azumano General Hospital"...

This colorless place stings my eyes.

"Your family member/ friend is in room.."

"Do you remember that time at the beach where you buried mommy in the sand?"

Mom, stop dodging my questions.

"B-35."

My eyes trail all over the walls, looking for directions. Where? I can't be lost. She's got to be nearby. This is so unreal. Dammit, this hospital. Why won't they stop sobbing? Damn nurse, stop looking at me! I'm not crying!

I turn around and glare at the unsuspecting nurse until she leaves the hall. I clench my fists and return to my pace. I turn a corner and unsuspectingly find what I was looking for.

My pace quickens. My steps ring in my ears. Snoring. Sobbing. The blare of the tv. Doctor's murmuring. Nurses giggling. Wheels squeak against the colorless floor. The receptionist says, "Yes, she'll see you now."

Running.

B1.

B2.

B3.

Turning down another corner. She must be here somewhere in one of these cloaked off rooms. My eyes are blurry now. I stop in my tracks. My heart skips off of it's monotone beats. B35.

"I want you to die!!"

My dry fingers touch the door knob. My dry, cracked nails scratch against it. I slide my fingertips down the length of the door knob, instantly lost in another flashback. Riku's blood sheathed nails scratch the door knob, only to leave tracks of her paint behind.

The door slowly swings open. Four figures materialize before me. She's sitting up. But she's not looking at me. She's looking out the window. The wind blows through the interior, tossing her short hair about. Her clothes are as colorless as this place.

"It was windy then. I can feel the wind."

She didn't tell me what happened. She wouldn't. She did it on purpose. And now I'm here again. And emptiness is standing next to me.

I have no idea why I'm here. They all know anyway.

The two men conversed with her, at the time unaware of my presence in this room. Is this a blessing? Is this fortunate that they are ignoring me? Does this mean I can run? Does this mean I can flee from this colorless maze and barricade myself in the sanctuary of my desolate prison? I don't want to go to any other prison but home. I don't want to feel the cold steel around my wrists. And I don't want to rot in a cold room. Please, have mercy on me, though I know I'm undeserving.

He's glaring at me now. No one seems to notice but me. I stand before them in bewilderment and horror. These men are here to seal my fate. Good God, am I being arrested in front of Dad and Riku? This is unbearably unreal. All my brain is saying to me is run, but my body is defiant. I shiver and my lip quivers, dreading, fearing, dreaming, blinking, screaming a silent scream, despising the moment their eyes leave her.

Then that's when I hear it.

"I don't know who it was, but they slammed me against the wall and ran outside."

"This man must have been very strong. He did a number on your arm." says Dad, just to spite me. His eyes never left mine. Can he see the desperation in me?

"Did they take anything?"

"I...was too scared to check. When I woke I was in such shock, a-and it hurt so bad I...I just ran," she licked her dry lips, "I just ran."

I flinch involuntarily as the policeman's deep set eyes meet my wide ones. "Your sister said she blacked out from the shock, but you were not present at the time. Where were you?"

Unable to concentrate, my mind does the only thing it's good for when I'm in a state of panic: it blacks it out with a mental image.

My hands hurt so much. I want to crush the metal between my fingers. My hand is red and my veins rise from my skin, burning from the fire within myself. He's asking me if I know what time it is.

"At the park," I absent mindlessly utter, fighting the urge not to cry when I come to a heartbreaking realization. Riku selflessly lied to the police to save me. She lied for me. How can I be important to her when I had done such a thing? My hands tremble and my body sends tremors up and down myself in powerful waves. She saved me. She deceived them.

"Can you tell us what they looked like?"

Riku looks down, pushing a wayward strand of red hair behind her ear. "...Swarthy. A little overweight. They.." she clears her throat, "They were wearing all black. There were two of them, I'm sure. Dark hair, black eyes."

I am not swarthy. But she's still describing me. I have two sides of myself. One was the paragon. The other, a faulty mess. I was not wearing black anywhere but in my soul. I hated her. I wanted to push those eyes away from me. She made me remember. So I pushed her away. My eyes were black, filled with my hatred of her.

By the look dad is giving me, either he knows what really happened but didn't want me in jail, or he's not buying Riku's lie.

"Where they tall or short?"

"Medium."

"Long hair?"

"Short."

A few scribbles in the notebook.

"Any other injuries?"

Riku is still avoiding their eyes. She clenches the white blanket. "I don't know. Other than my arm I...don't know. I don't know what hurts anymore." she murmurs.

I can sympathize. After mom died, I found out that I didn't know what pain really was at all. To me, pain was falling down on Lucy's glass limb. Pain was scraping my knee when I was seven years old. But the stinging reality is that pain comes from the terror not on the outside, but on the inside. When you realize that there is no one there with you at night, and "up there" is just an ocean of careless clouds. Pain is that sour, recurring realization. She is gone.

The first police officer makes a sympathetic sigh and grasps Riku's shoulder. "Don't worry, little girl, we'll find the guys who did this to you."

The second police officer places his pen and small notebook in his front pocket. "I just don't understand criminals. How old are you girl?"

"14." she quickly answers.

"Aw, see? Just a little girl. Why can't they pick on someone their own size?"

Riku made sure her bangs were concealing her eyes as she rolled them in disgust. I know how she feels. They think I'm a child too. But in the end, in this world...that's all we really are. Children lie to themselves. And how have we survived? By holding on to a immortal lie, that life itself is full of promises.

"Alright, we'll leave you alone. Don't worry, little girl, we'll find them."

Little do they know that those two men are standing here, shivering and dead on the inside, but on the outside, a frightened girl.

And so they leave.

Before I can even think to thank Riku for her selfless act, in one single blow...a firm hand swings by my face.

He slapped me.

He grabbed me by my arms, shoving me into the wall. And so his fury finds release.

"Stop it!" Riku cried.

"L-let go...of me..." I sobbed, trembling in his iron clasp. His hands were steel on my arms, vowing never to let go. I breathed anxiously, waiting, wanting him to hit me. I want him to hit me. Hit me. His ducts allow transparent tears to run down his cheeks. I'd rather have him come back to his senses after he's beaten all of mine out of me. I'm sick of this place feeling so unreal.

"Risa, have you gone insane? Do you realize what you could have done?? What would've happened to you if your sister died?!"

"Stop it!" hollered Riku. She sprang up from her bed and attacked dad from behind, futilely attempting to push him off. But her attempts only make him bruise me harder. My arms feel numb and I have difficulty breathing. I cannot speak.

"Stop it, dad! Her arms are red! You're stopping the blood flow!" she grabbed his arm and clawed at his coarse hairs, and he groaned in discomfort and shoved her off. She tumbled back and stared at him with frantic disbelief. He finally let go of my arms and I dizzily tried to run away, which looked more like me dragging my body against the wall to the door and weeping, clutching my inflamed appendages.

"You wouldn't be here," he rasped, his hostile features still red from the rage.

I was so shocked that he struck me that all I could identify him as was a red haze. Riku's body was colorless from the patient garb she was wearing, and only her fiery bob made out a definite shape. The tears were dulling my vision, and no other message was being sent to my consciousness but to flee.

"Leave...me alone.." I wept bitterly, shaking my head and feeling the dark strands of my mane shield my profile. What had I become? How could I allow my mother's death destroy me so? How had I let every enjoyable aspect of my existence disappear into a black abyss?

I hate myself. Risa Harada is not who I want to be.

"You'd be in a cold jail cell, Risa! We could never be a family again if Riku didn't lie to the police!"

"Stop it!" Riku helplessly reiterated.

"Stop yelling at me!" I hear myself scream, "I hate you! You let mom die!!"

I sprint out of the room immediately, crashing into a nurses' cart. She falls back in surprise and I continue my relentless running.

"Risa!"

I would be in a cold jail cell now.

"Risa!"

If Riku hadn't lied.

"Risa!"

Out of her love for me.

"Risa..."

I would be the ugly ducking in the icy pond. Left to die.

Their cries leave my ears as I burst out of the infirmary, determined to run. Just run. Running into the dark closets of my memory's museum.

(Exeunt)

(Satoshi)

My name...is Satoshi Hikari. Some would call me an emotionless recluse who lives all by himself and never opens up to anyone. They were right about my absence of emotion and the fact that I never open up. I am pretty emotionless. I pretend to be that way for a reason. It's not because I am a misanthropist. In fact, I love a few people out there. They don't know it though. They shouldn't, because the reason I pretend to be unfeeling was not to protect myself, but to protect those I love from the wrath of a certain sadistic, so-called "angel". In truth, there's nothing angelic about him, except maybe his wings, which are so prevalent in the mythology that pertains to angels.

I am not entirely reclusive. The sadistic angel I mentioned before lives with me in my apartment. Saying he is just mean is an understatement. He is the most heartless person I've ever met in my life. Whenever I held someone close to me, he threatened to kill them if I continued talking to them. His favorite thing to do is to use my emotions against me. It's what he lives for. It is the essence of his very existence. Thus, I crushed all my feelings so nothing would be precious to me ever again.

This was not an easy task. Daisuke Niwa, the only person who dared to befriend me, had a special place in my icebox of a heart. Risa Harada was another person I secretly held close in my heart. Though I could not fathom as to why I had been so attracted to her, whenever she passed my desk it was difficult not to look back at her.

I remember once, on a snowy evening, she had passed by my house. She was on the way to the grocery store, I assume. For the briefest moment, she peered up at my foggy window, and as I looked back I could see what could have been a smile. Maybe she was just happy she saw me. The thought of her smiling just because she saw me made my heart skip a beat. Ever since then, I had tried to muster up the courage to accompany her. To bask in her magnificence. A pity, a shameful pity, that she had captivated me so effortlessly. I never thought the sunshine of her smile would fade. Then one day, when I glimpsed at her desk, and saw it empty and alone, I knew something was amiss.

One day turned into two, two turned into three, and before I knew it, Risa Harada had vanished from the face of the planet for two weeks straight. For two weeks, I was forced to look at her empty seat. What bothered me the most was that Riku was always present. Though on the second day she entered the class of hushed whispers with dried tears staining her cheeks. It wasn't until later that I learned the class was gossiping about her. Not only about her, but Risa as well, and also an unfortunate event that the teacher labeled "family turmoil".

I found out from one of the big mouthed girls that Risa's mother had died of breast cancer.

I was instantly saddened. Unbeknowest to the Harada's, I stood on their porch, pondering the wisdom of knocking on their door. It seemed that not only Risa's mother had passed, but the house lost it's last traces of life. The interior was blackened, and one lone window was open, allowing the occasional breeze of the spring of April. What had happened to them? The house itself seemed to be occupied by a ghost of some kind, who I speculated to be either Risa or Riku solemnly trudging about the house in a state of melancholy. When I took the risk and peeked in through the dark window, all I could faintly make out into comprehensible objects were the spiral curls of what I assume were dolls of some kind sitting on what appeared to be a rocking chair, and a dusty television.

I heard the stairs creak and I immediately fled out of fear.

I walk the rainy streets of Azumano in a daze at midnight, thinking about Risa's sudden presence in the library. She saw my bruised face. But then again, who didn't? It was my fault. I was stupid enough to just walk in there and read my book. I could feel their eyes burning into my back. I was too weak to read as I was. My arms were so sore from all the cutting I just..

No. Not thinking about that.

Risa's desolate house comes into mind, and I am immediately overtaken by the undeniable impulse to stand at her porch. My legs move on their own accord, taking a left down Midori Ave. and headed straight to her home. It seems my consciousness is arguing with my body in a way. If they were actually having an argument, it'd probably sound like this:

What the hell are you doing?

I don't know. Why do you care?

Because I want to go home, but you're not listening to me.

I can go wherever I want to. I'm sick of you bossing me around.

You have no right to be sick of me bossing you around, because I am your boss. Now go home.

No, I don't want to. I'm going to Risa's house, and there's nothing you can do about it.

Yes, there is something I can do about it. I can nag you until you give in. Now go home or I'll bother you more.

I already told you where I'm going, now shut up.

Hey! I'm the boss of this turf, and you better respect my authority! Risa's going to think you're some kind of stalker if she sees you. Just listen to me and go home!

I have to stand there, I have no choice. She won't leave me alone until I do.

What are you going to do the entire time? Just stand there and stare at her open window? What if she catches you?

I don't know, I'll think of something.

I don't think so, buddy, that's my job.

Hey look, her doorstep!

Dammit, you're so stubborn!

I chuckle to myself and stop the quarreling within my head. How pathetic...I just had to laugh. I step onto her porch and lose myself in her empty, dark, window and my thoughts.

She's been like this since her mother died. I never thought she would allow her life to slip down the drain like this, but it washer mother. Kind of makes me glad I never knew mine. From what I heard, she was beautiful, but lonely and reclusive, like Risa. Krad told me that my grandmother wasn't a very nice woman. She kept my mom in the house most of the time. That's about all I know of my family history. I don't even know how my mother died. Krad swore up and down that "I never touched her", but I find that hard to believe. I don't want to think about Krad. He's asleep and he should stay that way.

"Hi...kari..?"

I look down from the window and gape at Risa's hazel eyes from the crack in the open door. Panic struck my heart in one harsh blow, and I dart my eyes at random places, thinking of an excuse, any excuse, as to why I'm standing here with no intention of socializing with her.

"Why are you here Satoshi? Did I miss a homework assignment or...?" she trails off and goes silent again. Her voice...so incredibly frail, like she hasn't spoken in years.

"I..." I begin, clearing my throat, "I was--" then I finally decide to just be honest with her, though it's painful and might cost me in the future, especially with Krad watching, "I was worried about you."

Her eyes widen, then revert to their normal round shape. "You...were worried about me?" she says quickly, unexpectedly slamming the door in my face.

I stand there in shock for a moment, pondering what I did to upset her, but nothing comes to mind. Have I scared her by standing here?

I hear the metal slide off it's slot on the other side of the door, and she opens it again, quickly adjusting her hair. It's...cute. It's cute to see her rubbing the sleep from her eyes and finger combing the knots out of her hair. My heart starts beating faster, and I put my hands behind my back and attempt to smile. I shouldn't be feeling this way. Why in hell did I put myself in this situation? Why did I have to stand here at her doorstep? Curse my senseless actions!

She stares at me for a moment. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she squeaks, gulping, "I-I didn't mean to slam the door in your face like that. I was just...you know..." she lowers her tone, "Unlocking it..."

"I'm terribly sorry if I frightened you." I say calmly, trying not to entice her into thinking that I might have a romantic attachment to her. But though I hate to admit it, standing here at the doorstep sends off a message that I don't approve of.

"No, you didn't. I was just surprised that you're here, is all." she curls her small pink lips into a weak smile, and the image of me kissing her assaults my mind. I banish it the moment it arrived, and try to still my fast-beating heart. Man, I hate myself right now.

"So, um...why...are you worried?"

"I...heard.."

Her face darkens.

"That...something happened.." I continue absentmindedly.

Her eyes glaze, and she looks down and solemnly nods.

"I apologize," I spurt out. "I--"

"No," she says in a hushed tone, "Don't be. I don't like sympathy."

I stand there, feeling like a fool. How dare I bring up such a personal subject out of nowhere? It's bad enough she caught me standing at her doorstep. Now she knows I know where she lives. Everyone knows I live on the other end of town, and now she thinks I walked here to do God knows what...

A thousand thoughts whirl in my head like a tornado. Why am I here? She probably thinks I can't be trusted. What does she think of me? How do I get myself into these situations? Why was it so important for me to stand here and stare at her window? I'll never understand myself. I know I should've listened to my brain..instead of my heart. It's all my fault. I couldn't stop thinking about her. Dammit, I need to end this right now! This will end in catastrophe if I keep pursuing her..

But her eyes..are...glassy. Is she going to cry? Dammit, Hikari, you made a girl cry! How dumb can you be? Why did I have to bring up her mother, of all subjects? I'm sorry, Risa..

"I just.." her voice broke, "I loved her. I love her." She took in a lung full of air as her tears blotted her cheeks.

I stood there speechless, thinking of what would be the wisest way to approach the situation. I've only been conversing with her for two minutes and shes already in tears. Shame fogged my thoughts and guilt drowned my will to act.

I feel an uncomfortable sensation in the beating of my heart, which is usually the primary sign that he's about to drone out my consciousness and use my body for his own twisted ends, whatever they may be. But I know better than I know myself that he would never think twice about harming an innocent, weeping young woman that I had the stupidity to feel sympathy for. Realization and terror stabs my core as I come to the conclusion that sympathy was not the only things I'm feeling for her.

Fearing a upcoming confrontation, my brain tells me to run, but I am broken within myself. I hardly to listen to my brain anymore. My body and my mind are two opposing forces that battle for dominance, each having their share of victories. Luckily, it seems these two forces came to a compromise with one other, and I turn around and walk away from her, hating myself more than I ever have before. But who knows...I could be saving her life.

I'm about to walk out of the front gates when she utters a broken, "Wait."

I obey.

I don't face her, fearing that my eyes are not blue anymore, but a golden color with the iris of a feline. I don't say a word either.

She clears her throat, "Why did you walk away from me?"

I bite my lip and struggle to cope with these unbearable emotions, dreading, believing, knowing that he will take me. Despite my calm composure, my voice is a completely different story.

"I'm sorry Miss Harada, but it is very late. I know I haven't an excuse to be here at your doorstep this time of night, and for that I apologize. But I must be go--"

"No," she says sharply, and I can feel her small feet tapping on the cobble stone walkway as she approaches my back, "I meant at school. You didn't...paint."

"I decided I didn't want to." I say simply, praying she won't ask me to elaborate. I'm still facing away from her.

A moment of silence. Then, "If you don't want me to see your face, then it's alright. But I'd appreciate it if you'd stop lying to me."

My breath hitched. How did she know I was lying about not wanting to paint? There's no way in hell she could know about..

"Did you get into a fight?" she asked, resting her warm hand on my shoulder. A long forgotten notion enters my head. My cheeks are bruised and my lip is swollen.

My body tenses and and I open my mouth to release a gasp, but I remain soundless. The feeling in the core of me intensifies, and I can hear the faint growl of him within myself. That dreaded fear is about to be realized, and I cannot bear the the thought of the impending consequences. I swing open the gates and leave without answering her question.

A pity, a horrible pity, seeming as I don't usually do mindless things such as what I just did, and my manners are almost always conserved when dealing with anyone. But here I am, walking away from her and her unanswered question. I feel terrible. I silently damn myself a hundred times and ask her forgiveness a hundred more. But how could I answer her knowing I am a perfect example of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde? How could I possibly live with myself if I allowed the beast in me to harm the only woman I...

No. This feelings must die. It can't go on this way. This frivolous pursuit of Harada must come to it's end. I'll only end up..

The mirror is cracked. I am but a cursed child. The mirror is broken. Yet it stands, yielding the image of me...and him. My azure, fine strands frame my small face, and my ocean eyes are wide and filled with terror. He is standing there with me. His wavering gold mane. The glittering gold mirrors that are his eyes. This is who I am. And in the back of my deepest thoughts, my mystified desires and my broken dreams, he is there. And there he will always be. I am Dr. Jekyll.

And he is Mr. Hyde.

I'm very sorry for taking forever to update. I was in a bout of panic over my other story, the Life and Death Of Rio Hikari. Also, for the sake of fulfilling a request by a certain reviewer, I tried not to make this story completely and utterly depressing by inserting a fictitious argument between the brain and the body in Satoshi's episode. It wasn't terribly funny, but I hope it lightened the mood a "tinsy tiny bit".