Kyouson
Chapter Two – A Warning of Waking Up (and school)
Warning: Some spoilers for those of you who haven't read the more up-to-date manga. Story starts about a week or so after Toki no Byoushin, but has themes and facts from the Argentine arc.
I want to change the world,
Keep on holding on your desire,
You will get a shining love,
That you can reach alone
If you go on to get your goal,
It's wonderland.
- Change The World, from InuYasha.
---
Daisuke woke up to the harsh light of a summer's morning flooding through his window and the feel of something small, soft and heavy batting a paw at his face.
Daisuke batted the intruder away, but wasn't all that surprised when the creature simply retaliated by jumping flat onto his face. After having to cough fur out of his mouth and nose, he rolled over onto his side, meaning that the rabbit-like animal slid sideways onto the pillow.
"Jus' five more minutes, Wiz. . ."
Wiz went kyuu loudly, irritated and worried. There was a brief reprieve, during which Daisuke attempted to burrow further under his covers.
Then, something cold and hard could be felt being dragged onto the bed, and the poking continued.
"Wiz. . ."
Starting to jump up and down, Wiz accidentally (or intentionally, you never quite knew) pressed one of the buttons of the alarm clock, making the thing buzz loudly, startling both occupants of the bed.
In a flash, Daisuke's eyes opened, wide and aware. In less than a second he took in the time on the clock, how bright it was outside and the fact that he was still in bed and proceeded to give out a muffled yelp.
"I'm gonna be late! Wiz – Dark, why didn't you wake me up earlier?"
As Daisuke jumped out of bed and started attempting to get dressed while only half awake, there was no reply. Still only in pyjamas and house slippers, he slowed down to a halt while reaching for a sock.
"Dark?"
Still nothing. Not even a snore or a single feeling to say that his other self was even there. Daisuke's alarm grew. Surely it shouldn't be taking him this long to recover? And now even if it was, wouldn't Dark still be able to talk to him?
Starting to panic more about this than the possibility of being late for school, Daisuke shouted out for Dark, out loud and in his head. He didn't care if the stupid thief had just gone into a deep beauty sleep – no matter how annoying, Dark was always there. The only time he hadn't had been during the time he had spent in the Toki no Byoushin, and even then he had rescued him. He just wasn't used to the silence any more.
The door opened to reveal a yawning Emiko, already dressed and not a hair out of place but still visibly tired even through her concern, and behind her were Kosuke and Towa.
"Dai-chan, whatever's the matter?"
Daisuke stood back up but attempted to hide his flushed face.
"It's Dark," he said insistently. "I can't hear him – he's not answering me. I don't understand!"
Towa started, looking confused. "But he's still here," she said. "I'd know if he wasn't."
"But I can't hear him!"
"Calm down, Dai-chan, I'm sure everything's just fine, I'm sure. Wouldn't Towa-chan – eh, Wiz!"
The Niwa family familiar had acted according to his name, whizzing out of the door through the small forest of feet and ankles, tickling those who didn't have any socks on yet with his fur. Momentarily distracted, Daisuke – followed close behind by the others – chased after.
"Wiz – get back here!"
Either not hearing or not caring, Wiz didn't do as he was told. Like a furry white blur, he sped down the hall and mostly tumbled down the stairs, leaving a trail of Niwas behind him and catching he attention of Jii-chan as he passed through the kitchen.
"Eh? Wiz?" The old man looked up from his morning paper, but by the time he did Wiz had already vanished. Daisuke and the others stopped, panting, at the bottom of the stairs, and the redhead collapsed down onto the final step. "Daisuke?"
Daisuke grunted, but that was his only acknowledgment. Jii-chan turned to the others.
"Can anyone tell me what's going on here?"
"Well," said Emiko, raising a thoughtful finger to her lips with a frown, "we don't really know. We went to check on him when we heard him calling out for Dark, but I didn't really understand what could have gotten him so worked up. And then Wiz ran off, and here we are. . ."
Emiko's father frowned, put his paper down and looked at his grandson.
"Daisuke. You know as well as I do how hard it is to get rid of Dark. Now, assuming that the elder Harada sister didn't have anything to do with this," Daisuke mutely shook his head, "and that Towa-chan can't sense anything wrong, then everything should be just fine. Right, Towa-chan?"
Towa nodded vigorously, light violet hair flying. "Yes. Well – everything's just fine."
"You see?" said Jii-chan, beaming and apparently not catching the distracted tone she had spoken in.
"But – that doesn't make sense, Daisuke said at last. "I still can't feel him. He's not here. What if something's happened? If something's wrong?" He stood up, but averted his gaze from his family, instead tearing a hand through scruffy red bed hair. "Dark. . . he said that the Yanae could grant wishes. Desires. And – and Krad was there – and what if something's happened?"
Eyes going red and sore, tears threatened. A hand reached out to offer him a handkerchief, which he took but held simply in a tight grip.
A hand found its way to his shoulder and Daisuke looked up only to find his father looking not down at him, but across to a quizzical-looking Towa. Who was staring, bewildered, in the direction of the basement.
Which happened to be the place where the Niwa clan sealed what art it was possible to seal without Dark, and also the main entrance to many of their underground paths, passageways and tunnels.
"What is it, Towa?"
The artwork blinked and shook her head in the manner of someone who is trying to either remember or forget something important.
"Oh, don't mind me, it's nothing, I –"
Daisuke sighed, cutting her off.
"It's Wiz, isn't it," he said. It wasn't a question. There wasn't enough inflection for that. All the same, his legs still found themselves placing one foot in front of the other towards the hidden door to the staircase that lead to the basement. Emiko and Kosuke shared a look, and followed, only to be blocked a meter or so from the bottom of the winding staircase when Daisuke himself stopped dead in his tracks. Unable to see due to the stairs themselves and the fact that they were behind him, Daisuke's parents could not see a reason for the sudden halt, until a familiar noise echoed through the tall room.
"Kyuu. . .?"
The elder Niwas' eyes widened in shock when Daisuke leapt the last few steps and rushed over to the prone figure lying on the cold floor.
The figure who looked about seventeen, wearing the same costume that Daisuke had taken off the previous night before going to bed, and with dark, flowing purple hair obscuring most of his face from view.
"Dark!?"
At Daisuke's shout, the figure twitched and his head moved, causing hair to fall free from his face. Purple eyes blinked, at first bleary, then widening in confusion and shock. Jumping into wakefulness so quickly that one could almost believe that he had been feigning sleep, Dark scrambled back, sitting upright when the rush of blood to his head made standing up straight away not such a good idea.
"Wait – what – I thought we'd dealt with that pesky artwork!"
Daisuke didn't say anything, too shocked to even move much further. This was real, not a dream, or anything like it. And Dark was right there in front of him. Not in his head.
In fact, even though they were staring each other in the eyes, the usual mental connection was. . . gone. Completely shattered, at least so far as they could tell.
"I believe," Kosuke said when neither boy nor thief looked ready to say anything further, "that this might even be the work of an entirely different artwork altogether. Don't you, Daisuke?"
Daisuke started slightly at the sound of his own name, but somehow couldn't take his eyes off of the impossible figure getting to his feet.
This. . . is just too weird, they both decided, unknowing of the other's thoughts.
---
Wakefulness, like always, came slowly.
First came reality, invading itself into his dreams. Then distant sounds made their way into his consciousness, and at long last he could feel his covers all around him, the pain of still recovering from the night before, back aching and muscles still cramped, even though he had been moving about in his sleep. Finally, he was dragged into an at least half awake state when the light coming in from his window caught his eyes and his lids turned red.
Opening them slightly, he winced and put an arm over his forehead to give a little shade. With a groan, he closed them once more and rolled over. After all, he might be a student, the commander of a police force, and the tamer of his family's curse, but above all, no matter how hard people had tried to steer him clear of bad habits, he was still first and foremost a teenager, and at this moment he wanted – needed – sleep.
He was in the process of burying his face into his pillow when he first felt it and noticed what he should have noticed moments before. That he had fallen into something – somebody's – shadow when turning to what was supposed to be the welcoming empty darkness of the rest of his room. The familiar feeling of being watched, so different from when he was on the job and stalking Dark, more constant, more possessive, more like –
His eyes shot open, this time not streaming from the sunlight, perhaps because of the fact that it was darker in this direction, perhaps because his mind had overridden his body, reflexive actions overriding the instinctive.
Blue eyes locked on to golden-amber, narrowed while the other simply looked at him with an indecipherable smile on his face.
"You. Get. . . away from me. Now."
A single fine eyebrow rose in what appeared to be a form of amusement. It was a look that he had seen a great many times when dealing with the homicidal blond that he unwillingly timeshared with, but for some reason there was something decidedly off about it this time.
"Come, now. Really . . . is that any way to greet me as I sit before you like this, Satoshi-sama?"
Satoshi merely clenched his jaw and sat up further, finding his glasses and putting them on. By the time he had done so, the gold-and-white figure was still there, watching him. As if he were some sort of interesting caged animal.
"I said," he repeated, becoming calmer with an effort, "that you should get away from me. Go back to where you came from. And this time, stay there."
The amusement in the golden eyes definitely grew at this. As well as something similar to triumph that wasn't exactly the same as any of the other times he had seen the emotion in the other's eyes.
"I am afraid, Satoshi-sama, that that is something that I am unable to do."
Behind glasses, his eyes narrowed. He wasn't in the mood for this. Not after what had happened the previous night.
"I've had enough of your lies and your tricks, Krad. Now – get out of my way."
Obliging him and like always putting on a show, Krad did so, standing up and moving so that Satoshi could get out of bed, slide into his house slippers and out into the hall, from which he could get to the bathroom and start to get ready for the day without the other's attention on him all of the time.
He slid past, not wanting to so much as touch the space where the other was standing, not wanting to be so slow that he would give away how disoriented he was to be up and moving so quickly after waking up. It was something Krad would expect, having to use the same body, and –
Something was wrong. More than halfway through his bathroom routine, and the constant unwanted presence had still not returned to the back of his mind. Satoshi had trained himself ever since he had realised what it would mean to have been born a Hikari, and even more ever since the curse had awakened itself. He always knew at some level how active this half of the artwork was in his mind. When Krad materialised himself at times, it was a simple manipulation of mind's eye and imagination. Even then he could not truly become separate from Satoshi himself.
Yet ever since he had woken, he had felt no magic, no awareness attentive to any and all slip-ups he might make, no constant danger. Only a strange sort of numbness where all of that had been.
At any other time, this might have been enough to make him smile. Now, though, with the thought of the figure he had left in his room. . . it only served to make his blood grow cold.
"I am afraid, Satoshi-sama, that that is something that I am unable to do."
Hurriedly, he finished getting dressed and went back into his room with the full expectation that it would be empty when he got back there. . .
. . . and it was not.
There, sitting on his bed and still dressed in that ridiculous getup that always somehow materialised when the other came out and hair fallen flat on the covers, was Krad, face mostly shadowed by his hair yet still visibly looking fixatedly at some point beyond the head end of his bed. It seemed almost as though he had not even noticed that Satoshi had returned at all. He saw a single pale fist clench once on top of the sheets, then relax. Slowly and controlled, the head moved and golden eyes fixed themselves on him, as if acknowledging that at long last he had come to understand what was happening. For a long, almost endless moment, it was just the two of them, challenging and questioning silently, no mental voices to carry thoughts or physical ones to break the silence.
The phone rang, breaking the moment. Amber narrowed, glittering like some gem stone that was beautiful to look at, but could cut you if you so much as touched it. Before the machine picked up Satoshi answered, carefully not letting on that he was anything but calm.
"Hiwatari-kun!" came the familiar voice. "Thank goodness you're still there and you're awake! Listen-"
"I'm sorry," Satoshi said, cutting across Daisuke and hoping that the other boy would understand the message he was trying to put across. "I happen to be busy right now. No, I can't talk right now."
"But this is important, Hiwatari-kun!"
"I understand that," he replied, fighting the urge to snap. "But I simply do not have the time right now. I'm sure that you understand that much, and if it really is that important, then it can wait just a few minutes, officer. If it isn't, then I shall see you at work."
With that, he put the phone back on its cradle, not bothering to wait to hear Niwa's inevitably confused reply.
Avoiding any more eye contact with the angelic being on his bed as much as possible, he retrieved the few items needed to go to school, and headed over to the door. Just as he was about to leave, however, he thought of something, and turned back enough that his voice would carry to wherever the blond was in his apartment.
"No matter what happens today, no matter what, do not set one foot outside of this place." He hesitated. "And find something else to wear."
And then Hiwatari Satoshi was gone, before he could think any further on the matter. Which was probably a good thing.
---
Daisuke stared at the phone in his hand that was still making engaged tones. His family was gathered all around him, and although Emiko had at first been the most adverse to the idea, she had been hanging on to every word he had said nonetheless. Now, they were watching him. Dark himself was standing a short way away, arms crossed and minus the heavily buckled coat that he had been found asleep in.
"Well? What did creepy boy say?"
"He didn't say anything. And don't call him that – Hiwatari-kun's not creepy."
Dark snorted. "Yeah, right. He was saying something to you or you wouldn't have been talking back."
Daisuke shot his other self a look. "He kept saying he couldn't talk, and then he pretended as though I was someone calling from his work, all right?"
Dark didn't reply, but looked over at Kosuke with an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. Daisuke's father returned the gaze with a slight nod which Daisuke himself completely missed, having seen the time on the phone's caller display.
With a rush of wind, the youngest thief in the Niwa household practically flew past them, a strange mantra on his lips.
"I'm gonna be late I'm gonna be late I'm gonna be late!"
Various of the other Niwas sweatdropped slightly at the panicked behaviour as the redhead set a new record time and was out of the house within minutes. He still didn't make it in time for the cart, though – meaning that he had to go that much farther on foot, without help and without company. It helped to concentrate on the journey itself, on what he was doing, what was possibly going to happen that day, even the prospect of being late, over the fact that his mind was, for the first time since that heist on his fourteenth birthday, silent but for his own thoughts. And this time, Dark wasn't even in danger – unless you counted being in the Niwa house and surrounded by people like his mom and grandfather and father and Towa in danger, that is.
He arrived panting and out of breath, giving profuse apologies to the teacher as he entered the classroom and trying to ignore the stares of everyone as he sat down. Including but not exclusive to both of the Harada twins, Saehara, and not least Hiwatari-kun himself – who did not in fact look all that much better than he did.
There was a tired air about the other boy, not to mention the fact that his head was practically resting on his desk, gaining multiple noises of adoration for how cute he looked from the fan club. A preoccupied look at times haunted his face when it seemed as though no one else was looking, even though when the teacher asked him a question, he was still able to answer perfectly well.
Blue eyes kept darting looks at him, making Daisuke all the more nervous and jittery, sometimes making him answer the question that had been asked five minutes ago instead of the one that had been asked mere moments before in his unbalanced state.
Then again, it wasn't as though he was having an easy time of concentrating even when people weren't actively trying to distract him. His mind kept wandering back to that morning, seeing Dark, seeing himself, seeing himself reflected off of Dark's eyes. Not in them. Not a part of him.
With a sting in his eyes and the faint whisper of a low buzz in his mind, Daisuke's own head hit the desk with a soft thump just as the teacher looked over at him. Irritated with his behaviour, Saehara punched him not-so-lightly in the shoulder. The redhead apologised, embarrassed, but was well aware and even nervous of Hiwatari – and how he was still watching him.
---
Everyone, whether they realised it or not, breathed a sigh of relief a the end of class. With a scowl showing more emotion than he would usually have dared to feel, he turned on Niwa before the redhead could escape the room.
"You," Satoshi said slowly, as though having to think carefully about his words when in fact he did not, "are a stupid, foolish idiot." Niwa blinked, apparently not anticipating such an outburst. "Did you ever, at any point, stop to consider the consequences of your actions?"
At this, the other boy seemed to understand. Or at least, understand something, even if it wasn't what Satoshi had actually meant. He started to go off on a rambling tangent on how sorry he was, debasing himself and bowing in apology – but for the destruction that had been wreaked in the museum the previous night, which hadn't even been Daisuke's fault. No. . . I hold the blame for that, he found himself thinking as he re-adjusted his glasses and then held his hand against his forehead in the hopes of staving off the headache that often came from dealing with Niwa. Any Niwa, for that matter. I know full well that the wanton ruin was my failure, yet the thief is going to be the one to be blamed. I should have known – suspected something, not walked in as blindly as one who knew nothing of Hikari art. He held up a hand to stop the ongoing tirade, and was almost surprised when there was suddenly actual quiet. He blinked slowly and took his hand down from his eyes.
"That," he said deliberately and not completely without compassion, "was not what I meant."
Niwa's expression cleared to embarrassed, his mouth forming the shape of an 'oh'. "But, then what?"
Satoshi turned to face the window with a sigh.
"You. . . are familiar with what the Yanae is capable of. Am I not correct?"
Niwa nodded, responding with a verbal affirmative after only a little hesitation, all of which Satoshi could see ever so faintly in the mirror that was the window.
He sighed, turning half back towards the redhead.
"What then, precisely, was it that you found yourself wishing for, Niwa Daisuke?"
He could tell that his words had had an effect, not to mention that Niwa had not properly thought on this before, when the boy slumped back into his seat with a dazed look on his face.
"I . . . I can't – I mean I know, I just. . ."
Red eyes shot him a look reminiscent of a kicked puppy, or more accurately, a puppy about to be kicked, and knew it, too. Satoshi found himself fingering his temples once again.
"I'm not angry at you, Niwa." At the look of disbelief hastily hidden behind the general facade, he rectified. "At the very least, not for whatever dream it was that you believed in so strongly. I simply wish to know . . . what that dream, that desire of yours, was."
He had a strange feeling that at some level he already knew, but he ignored it, as well as the twinge of envy in his chest. Used to reading body language both as a detective and as an artist, he could clearly see the expectant depression change to intense guilt, perhaps shame. Red eyes focused elsewhere to avoid his gaze, yet in the next moment he found himself looking into them, Niwa's body language speaking in suddenly calm and confident tones.
"What feels like a long time ago now, just after I'd met up with Towa-chan, after the other. . . after Krad first appeared, Dark told me how he had tried to do something that he thought was helpful. Something that would make him disappear. . ." Without Niwa having to say, he knew what that must have been. Dark must have attempted to reveal himself to the elder Harada. But what did that have to do with their situation now? "When I found out, I was upset. I didn't want him to go. I just wanted . . . co-existence."
For a few moments there was a tense yet comfortable silence between them. Birdsong and the waves could be heard from out of the window and the other students' chatter permeated the entirety of the school as the break drew to a close.
The tentative peace was broken when, without warning and unable to resist, Niwa yawned. Not loudly or for very long. Just enough that made his eyes droop slightly afterward, red hair flopping as he attempted to stay on top of the tiredness that they were both feeling. Satoshi sighed, not really annoyed and not even sure that he was even angry with the other boy any longer.
He opened his mouth, perhaps to say something more, but was interrupted by a sudden flow of incoming students, each contributing their own voice to the endless babble of increasing noise, making it impossible to continue any sort of conversation with Niwa, and not least of all any kind of meaningful conversation not laced with half-truths and double meanings. With a sigh, he meandered purposefully back to his seat.
Thinking over the situation that he and Niwa were now in, he barely recognised when his thoughts started to repeat themselves in his head. He only realised that he had fallen asleep – again – when he was woken up fifteen minutes later by a high-pitched squeal closely followed by loud shushing noises. Not bothering to keep up pretences he opened his eyes, lifted his head off of his desk and, ignoring both the fan club and the teacher, simply removed his glasses and put his head back onto the desk, cushioning it this time with his arms.
After all, it was hardly as though he could do anything about his condition at this particular moment in time. And for once, he could afford to let his guard down.
His hand still would not let go of his glasses even so.
---
The rest of his day had passed with the sort of tedium that was usually attributed to the time he put aside to deal with the kind of work he had left over from his other job. It didn't help that, since the previous night had been a heist night, he had piles of that selfsame paperwork waiting for him when he got home.
Irritatingly, even though his equilibrium was mostly righted by lunchtime, leaving him only slightly drowsy for a short time before the feeling tapered off entirely, he still wasn't given any chance to just make the most of the situation. Countless other students who didn't even know him apart from his name came just to make sure that he was 'all right'. Even worse however were the looks Niwa sent him every few minutes from the moment he had found the guts and time to tell his . . . opponent? Rival? Borderline friend, perhaps – or was that pushing it? The truth. That even if what Niwa had wanted most in all the world had been co-existence with his other self, Dark, it was the furthest thing from Satoshi's wishes.
Between having to deal with the stares and looks at school and the problem that he was certain could not have simply waited for him at home, not to mention his still-being-restored off-kilter equilibrium; just one of the effects that came with having Krad separated from him, body and mind, he was driven to pushing a headache back the first moment he was able.
A few blocks away from the school building, away from the general ignorant student population, away from Niwa, he pressed a hand against his forehead. It wouldn't help, but. . . then again, nothing likely would.
With a sigh and a push of his glasses further up his nose, Satoshi simply carried on his way back to the apartment he was so used to being empty apart fro himself.
All went well, with him coolly watching the people he passed as he got further towards his destination, when without warning an unexpected sight caused him to freeze.
It was surreal, unreal even. It was a feeling akin to having a dream or nightmare follow you into the waking world, where the two weren't supposed to and usually didn't mesh. This was not supposed to be happening. He had told the blond to stay inside, there fore Krad should not be standing there on the street corner and, for all intents and purposes, waiting for him to get back.
He hadn't even gotten changed. He was still wearing that antique costume that, if his hair had been cut loose, would have made him look altogether too much like a girl. The fact that his eyes were an unnatural golden shade and had slit pupils did not help. He was attracting attention. Too many stares.
Temper coming to the fore, Satoshi practically stormed over to the figure with all the patience of one who has had too many things happen to them in a short period of time. Without thinking, he grabbed a wrist and all but dragged the blond angel – wings thankfully not out, perhaps the homicidal idiot did have some sense in that pea-sized skull of his – back into the building and up to his apartment. He was silent until they got there, and the smug look on the other's face only made his mood worse.
"You," he said, pounding his hand palm down onto the nearest flat surface. "I told you to stay inside. Did you even stop to consider your actions before stepping foot outside looking like that?!" He snorted. "Of course not."
Krad was insufferably calm.
"Yet what else would you have had me do, Satoshi-sama? I simply could not have stayed inside like a caged bird or captured criminal. . . I needed to taste the air, and await your return."
"You could have opened a window."
A single golden eyebrow arched elegantly, saying all that needed to be said. Satoshi snorted bitterly and brushed past him on his way to the kitchen. The supposed 'white' angel was worse at figuring out when he had gone wrong than the thief.
And yet if he had realised that he had done something wrong, then Satoshi, in the state of mind that he was currently in, could not have noticed the minute details, such as eye and hand movements, the creased nature of the now permanently physical clothing and the only slightly messed up hair. Things that in and of themselves were small and scant. That an outsider would not know or be able to comprehend.
Satoshi, also, despite having lived with the homicidal angel within his consciousness for nearly a year now, probably would have noticed, made note, and forgotten. The two were not the same as the Niwas; they did not share.
So Satoshi did not share his anxiety over what was going to happen to him and the people who associated with him now, and over how big an explosion there was going to be when the two halves of the Kokuyoku artwork figured out that the other was also in the real world, with their own body, and why.
So Krad did not share how he had at first felt euphoria at finally having that which he had desired for so long. He had kept to himself the twinge of worry he had felt when Satoshi-sama had reacted that way this morning before school, not caring about his health. He had kept his anger at bay and away from the surface while talking in the hall, even though Satoshi-sama telling – ordering – him to stay in the apartment had been too much like being shoved to the back of their mind and locked away there for his liking.
They eat at different times, in silence, and when they chose to sleep, neither spoke; with the exception of Satoshi laying down the rule that Krad was not under any circumstance other than an emergency to go into Satoshi's room at any point, most specifically when Satoshi himself was in it, and not under pain of extreme pain to attempt to wake the boy up like he had that morning ever, ever again.
So Krad slept on the sofa. And neither knew that the other, for the most part, was feeling the same things as they.
---
Daisuke, in a twist of fate, came home to a quiet street, which could be a good sign sometimes and a bad one at others. He doubted it was an altogether good one today, though, as there was a sort of nervous tension in the air. The walk down the garden path was the easy bit. Getting through the front door – now that was the hard part.
"But all I wanted to do was- !"
Daisuke sighed. It seemed that something had already gotten Dark seriously wound up. Luckily, for his family, it sounded more like frustration, and childish frustration, at that.
"Tadaima, minna-san."
Some but not all of the strange noises stopped or quieted while his family called back to him.
"Okaeri, Daisuke." That was Dark. He still couldn't believe this was actually happening. If nothing else, it was weird hearing Dark's voice coming from anywhere other than in his head. "You – can you tell this crazy woman that she's not my jailor!"
He blinked. Well, that's a new one.
"Uh- "
"But Dai-chan! Dark wanted to go out. Like that. Of course I couldn't let him!"
Daisuke's eyes boggled. Before, perhaps the thief might have stood a chance. Now, however. . .
"D- DARK! What were you trying to do? Get yourself killed or something? Caught?!"
There was a thump as Dark jumped straight from the first floor to the hallway just as Daisuke was taking off his shoes. Apparently, mom had been too flustered by the now-corporeal thief to lay any of her usual traps. Except that instead of traps, he was getting a finger poked angrily at his chest, purple hair curtaining between them both, likely hiding both of their faces from view.
"Why you little backstabber. You're forgetting – I'm a kaitou. Not just a kaitou either; the best. I'm not gonna get myself caught just like that!"
"But Hiwatari-kun- !"
"Hiwa- what?" Perhaps letting slip the commander's name hadn't been such a good idea. Dark's scowl was positively thunderous. "You told Creepy boy?! What the hell were you thinking?"
The finger pointed at his chest had quickly become a fistful of shirt. Daisuke only crossed his arms and glowered right back.
"But I didn't have to tell him anything! He already knew and figured it out!"
Dark snorted derisively and half turned away just as Daisuke's father slipped onto the scene.
"Yeah, right." The words were confident, but the tone was not. "Liar."
Daisuke let out an angry breath and a half-hearted glare. They couldn't understand each other. Their mind-link gone – snapped somehow or simply frayed through distance, neither knew – they had to rely on mere words and actions, just like anyone else. So far, it wasn't working.
"Dark."
The quiet yet authoritative voice grabbed the attention of both boys. Daisuke because it was his father speaking, and Dark because the man was someone who had out tricked him on at least one occasion and had proved his worth at least a dozen. In other words, a man to be reckoned with. And he was Daisuke's father.
"Yeah, what?"
But that doesn't mean he's going to act like he respects anyone, Daisuke thought with relief when his shirt was released. Because that was just who Dark was.
"I agree with the others," the man deadpanned. Before the thief could start to interrupt, however, he put a hand up for attention. "I have reasons," he continued. "Right, Daisuke?"
He looked up.
"Huh?"
"Dark. . . what Daisuke said only confirmed our suspicions. The problem for us is what that means. The Yanae only affects those directly affected by what the person who wished desired. No one else, at least that we are aware of, should have been able to tell that the artwork has been awakened." Dark opened his mouth as if to say something, but Kosuke cut across him again. "And before you say anything, that rule applies to the Hikari family, as well."
Dark's mouth snapped shut. Daisuke didn't know how his dad knew these things exactly, but he did know that whenever there was research involved it was always precise, and he always kept Dark's character in mind. Often to Dark's displeasure.
Now, however, Dark looked more like someone had forced him to eat a sour lemon and then set him in the middle of a rampaging horde of fanboys. Slowly, he seemed to fold in on himself, and he leaned not very charmingly against the wall. A look of disgust flittered across his face.
"What you mean is that he's here, too."
No one said anything. In many ways, that was more than enough of an answer. The purple haired thief didn't let this stop him for very long, though.
"I still want out."
There was an instant uproar. Niwas on all sides argued against it – quite apart from the fact that Krad was now to all intents and purposes a free agent, there was the possibility that he might get caught, sighted and recognised or simply just fan mobbed by people who might just think that he bore even the slightest resemblance to the great Kaitou Dark Mousy.
Said kaitou stood his ground through it all. He wasn't stupid, he kept telling everyone, and he was definitely not incapable. Then, he dropped the bombshell.
"Besides," he had been saying, "I want to live it up a little. It's hardly as though this is gonna last forever, you know."
When asked what he meant, Dark explained.
"The Desire of Janus was created after the whole thing with the Hikari and the Niwa started. . . a few hundred years ago, maybe. The Hikari who made it probably thought he could rid himself of his curse." Dark snorted. "Obviously didn't work. Probably did for a while, but still; didn't work."
"And how was that?"
Dark tilted his head at the older dark haired man and smirked.
"Thing has a time limit, and just one rule. I think it's supposed to be about a month. . ."
"What about the rule?" Daisuke asked, uncertain whether this would be a good thing or a bad thing. The Toki no Byoushin had required him to lose his sense of self for a time, and then to draw. Both had not worked, but had been scary and draining.
The look on Dark's face turned serious. Possibly the most serious he had looked all day. Daisuke – and possibly also Jii-chan, who had also been Dark forty years ago – knew that this did not mean that he had never thought about the situation properly, but that he was trying to hide what he felt. That he wasn't hiding now meant something. It had to.
Lids closed over purple eyes for a moment, and then one eye cracked open, looking at them all, but mainly Daisuke.
"It all hinges on the person who activated that artwork," he said. "It would all go back to how it was before. . . if that person, whoever they were, for whatever reason, were to die."
Daisuke's eyes widened. Die? But he didn't even know that it had been him who had activated the Yanae. For all he knew it could have been Hiwatari-kun, or Dark, or even Krad, who had been shouting about activating it, even!
"I think I understand," said Kosuke, his tone matching Dark's. The thief had closed his eyes again, head resting back against the wall and staring blankly at the ceiling. "The artwork must draw her power from the life force of whoever activated the power she wields. That way after a certain point, they can sustain it themselves. Before then, they can't."
Dark shrugged.
"Don't ask me. This is the first time I've actually dealt with it."
"What?" asked Emiko as she came in from the next room over, wearing an apron. "Why's that?"
"Why d'you think?" Abruptly, he straightened and stretched, then put his hands in pants pockets with a devilish smirk all over his face. "Pretty girl, grants desires. I could think of plenty who'd want to bandy Yanae about."
The others looked like they could hit him. Daisuke took the honour of doing it himself.
---
Finally. Now I can post the arts associated with this chapter. There's one of Daisuke being woken up by Wiz, one of Daisuke running towards a Dark who's asleep in the Niwa basement, and one of Krad sitting on Satoshi's bed. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! For anyone who's wondering, the Yanae isn't really the focus of the story; the relationships between Daisuke, Dark, Satoshi and Krad on the other hand, are. You can expect fan-made histories, though.