Chapter Four – They Hadn't The Heart To Stay Or Go

"I'm sorry, but I have to go."

"It's okay. We'll finish the design tomorrow."

"Thanks, Risa-chan. I'll see you later!"

"Bye!" Risa waved as Ritsuko ran through the gates and into the blue car waiting for her. She closed the door and waved again through the window, this time alongside her mom who was smiling at Risa. She returned the smile. Within a few seconds, the car was gone. "Yeah, it's okay. I'll just…stay here. By myself. For another hour and half." It was hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice as she stood, seemingly useless, in the middle of the school courtyard.

She had told her sister to go on home without her and that she'd wait for Tabochi-san to pick her up later in the afternoon. Ritsuko had wanted to finish the set design for the play by the next day, and had persuaded Risa to stay at school for another hour or so. However, by the time Riku had ridden away, Ritsuko got a call from her mother saying that they had to pick her father up from the airport, and whisked Ritsuko away, leaving Risa alone with nothing to do until she was picked up.

"Maybe I'll call Riku," she muttered to herself, but immediately hated the idea. She didn't have a cell phone with her and the school office was on the other side of the campus. The walk would take a long time, and she tired out easily.

Risa swung her schoolbag idly, glancing around. There really wasn't much to do. Most of the sports teams had already finished practice for the day so there was no one on this side of the school; the only teachers left were those offering after school tutoring inside; the numerous clubs that met after school had been put on hiatus, allowing time for all the classes to prepare for the festival.

She sighed, groaning audibly in the deserted courtyard. "I should have just gone home with Riku in the first place," she whined out loud, before setting off in the direction of the office.

The sun had long since weighed to the west of the sky and the warm day had cooled down with the steady breeze washing in from the sea. Risa shivered involuntarily, rubbing her bare arms. If she'd known she was staying this late at school she would have worn her long sleeves instead.

Absently, and without thinking about it much, she pulled the white jacket from her bag and slipped it on. It was slightly big for her, being a boy's jacket, but she liked it fine. The sleeves spilled over her hands and it hung far below her waist, but it was soft and it kept her warm. Besides, she had become accustomed to its smell.

She walked on for another few minutes, falling into a slight stupor from the monotony of the motion, so that she didn't really notice where her feet were taking her. She soon came to one part of the school where the scenery had been made especially nice, with a few cherry blossom trees scattered about on an even, grassy plain. The pink blossoms always dazzled Risa, being so small and plentiful. Her awe of them soon pulled her away from the stone pathway to the office and onto the grassy stretch of trees where they rounded about the back side of the school. Smiling, she reached up and plucked a blossom off a low branch, breathing in its aroma. Some time, she hoped, she'd be able to bring Dark to the gardens downtown, where there was an entire grove of cherry blossom trees. He seemed like the kind of guy who appreciated beautiful things.

"Hey!" In the middle of her daydream the tiny wind had lifted the blossom from her hands and swirled it in the air before her, making it dance out of her reach. "No, give it back!" She chased the renegade flower, snatching at it with no such luck. The breeze took it far out onto the plain and then around the corner of the school, where the grass pushed up directly to the brick building. Risa ran after it and turned the corner.

"Ow!"

She landed on the grassy earth, her bag flying out of her hand for the second time that day. Slightly disoriented and a little annoyed, she glanced up at whatever it was that she had run into. She frowned.

Hiwatari. Naturally.

It seemed that no matter who you were, the last person you wanted to see would only surely be the only person you saw when you were apparently abandoned and alone. It was a horrid social rule-of-thumb and Risa loathed it with a vengeance.

"Sorry," Risa mumbled, apologizing to his feet rather than his face. She knew he was looking down at her, (anyone could feel that cold stare from a mile away), but she refused to meet his eyes. There was a short pause before he answered her.

"Don't be. It was an accident." Then his voice became only a fraction of a tone lighter when he asked, "Are you all right?" He reached out a hand to help her up. She ignored it and scrambled to her feet.

"Yes, I'm fine," she answered snottily, dusting off her uniform. "I can get up on my own, thanks." But when she straightened up to look at him he wasn't looking back. He was staring at her jacket.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, sounding oddly strained. She cocked an annoyed eyebrow at him.

"Why do you want to know?" she challenged, lifting her chin and plucking at her lapel. "It's mine. I bought it."

He tilted his head to the side, questioningly. "You bought a boy's jacket?"

She shrugged nervously, unwilling to give him the last word no matter how childish and pointless the conversation was. "Yeah, so?"

Satoshi stared at her a few moments, a stare so blank and devoid of emotion that it made her uncomfortable, before he simply turned away from her and leaned against the brick wall and looked up at the sky. "Nevermind then." He folded his arms across his chest and, from Risa's point of view, began to thoroughly ignore her.

She didn't like being ignored.

"What are you still doing here anyway and--," she blinked, suddenly aware that Satoshi was not wearing his uniform but instead a plain black shirt, blue jeans, and a black bomber jacket. It made him look different. "—why aren't you in your school uniform?" She actually expected him not to answer and, basically, snub her as before, so when he did speak up she was slightly caught off guard.

"I have some place to be," he said quietly. "But I decided to take my time getting there."

There was a way he said it that made him sound younger, more childlike. Like when little boys and girls didn't want to go some where, but knew that they had too. He sounded reluctant.

"What are you still doing here, Harada-san?"

She shrugged, planning on saying something sarcastic and rude but thinking better on it and deciding on a civil response. "I was supposed to be working on something for the play, but my partner left early. I'm left here until I get a ride home." Risa fiddled with the sleeves of the jacket, watching Hiwatari. He hadn't looked at her, but she knew he was listening. Why, she wasn't sure; he had seemed disinterested in her in the morning.

Not that she really cared if he was interested or not.

"So do you come out here a lot? After school, I mean." He glanced at her and she attempted a smile. "It's a beautiful part of the school. I wouldn't blame you for liking it."

He looked back at the cherry blossoms and shrugged. "I come here sometimes when I want to be alone," he said. Risa felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment.

"Oh."

But instead of allowing her to feel humiliated he held out a hand to her, the small flower she had been chasing twirling between his fingers. "But it wouldn't be fair of me to deny others a place of peaceful solitude." He shrugged and dropped the pink blossom in her waiting hand. This time Risa smiled genuinely, tucking the flower behind her right ear.

"Um, Hiwatari-san, can I ask you something?"

"You already did, but go on ahead."

She smiled again. He had a sense of humor; however bland his delivery was, he still had a sense of humor. "It's obvious that you don't like the play, especially since you have to be—be Dark, so why do you still do it?" It had been a question she had been wanting to ask, having noticed his increasing dislike for the part showing through his stony exterior.

"Everyone voted for me to do it," he said lazily, leaning his head back. "It's what they wanted."

Risa leaned a shoulder against the brick wall, looking up at his profile. "But it's not what you want."

"True."

"Well then, why not say no and give the part to someone else? Why don't you just quit?"

He took his time to answer. "I don't like quitting things," he told her, talking languidly as he shifted his weight. "It's not my style."

She nodded, understanding completely. There was a few moments of easy silence and quiet that wasn't uncomfortable but welcomed. Risa found that she liked Satoshi Hiwatari's company, however empty it could appear to be. But he was someone who knew the value of silence where many other kids their age could hardly grasp it. Risa herself was just coming to terms with the concept.

But there was still the misunderstanding from that morning, and she still hadn't appreciated the way he had treated her. Maybe she would just nonchalantly bring the subject up.

"Hiwatari-san, you were really rude to me this morning. Why didn't you wait for me?"

Okay, so she was blunt. Whatever.

Satoshi took his time to answer her, seeming to be in no rush; almost resistant to disturb their humble silence. "I didn't want to be late for school," he answered plainly. Risa waited for him to say more, but he didn't. Instead he pushed himself off the brick wall and faced her. His eyes flicked to her flower and he reached out to straighten it. "You should get to the office and call someone. Being around here so late isn't safe."

"You know, you don't have to be so detached all the time," she scolded, instantly offended by his poor excuse. And they were getting along so well.

He turned his back on her and began walking away.

"Yes I do," he muttered. She watched him retreat from her before making up her mind a split second and following after him.

"No, you don't," she repeated, stating her words firmly. She caught up to his side and Hiwatari turned to stare down at her, looking genuinely surprised that she was coming with him.

He frowned. "What are you doing?"

She ignored him and referred back to their previous topic. "You're always so quiet, Hiwatari-san, and you never take the time to be friendly to anyone other than Niwa-kun." She noted that there was a profound glint in his eye when she mentioned Daisuke's name. She registered it and filed it away to remember later. "And yet you live alone and your father lives completely out of town. I would think that you'd want more friends."

Now, the regular Risa was pretty nosy on her own, prying into other people's business on a regular bases. But there were still some lines that she did not cross. What she had just said to Satoshi was one of them.

She watched the muscles in his neck tense.

"I don't believe that's any of your concern," he nearly growled, obviously annoyed by her. His strides became wider, but Risa fought to stay at his same pace. She wouldn't allow him to surpass her once again.

"I think it is. The way you treat people isn't right."

"And who's to say what is right and what is wrong?"

Risa fought the urge to shake him. She hated the way he was taking her scolding, with a dead tone and an emotionless face. It was like she wasn't even worth arguing with, let alone someone important enough to stop walking and talk to face to face. "There are a lot of people who care about you, Hiwatari, but you're too busy being 'isolated' to consider their feelings."

Satoshi flinched at the frank way she said his name, adding no honorific to it whatsoever. She smiled unto herself, glad that she had gotten a real reaction out of him.

"My personality and sociability is under my command, Harada-san, and not something you can dictate over."

"I can when it concerns me."

"It doesn't concern you."

"Yes it does!"

"How so?"

"Because I'm one of those people who cares about you!"

Satoshi immediately stopped in his tracks, making Risa pass him several steps before she noticed he wasn't walking any more. She turned back and saw him staring at her, his blue, blue eyes gazing. He didn't say a word, but Risa, simply from the look on his face, figured out why he was staring at her oddly and gasped, nearly horrified.

"No! I didn't mean it like that! I mean, I did mean it like that but I wasn't—I mean, I was…Look, I care about you because you're close to Niwa-kun, and Daisuke-san is close to both my sister and me. And when he was worried about you being gone for four days we were worried with him." She started tugging on a lock of her hair, a nervous habit she was trying to break. "I'm just saying that…that we're friends, Hiwatari-san." She met his eyes, hoping that she hadn't made a fool of herself. We're friends! Hadn't he demonstrated over the years that he didn't need nor want friends? The entirety of their argument was focused on that very asset.

Satoshi held his silence a moment longer before continuing his pace.

"Hiwatari-san?"

"You shouldn't be friends with someone like me," he said, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at her. "It won't do you any good." He started to brush past her but she shot out a hand and grabbed him by the elbow, pulling him back.

"And you shouldn't tell me what to do. I can be friends with whoever I choose too, and maybe this time I just decided to choose you." She felt the muscles in his arm flex unconsciously; apparently human contact was beyond his daily routine. She, however, was surrounded by the scent of him. A clean, fresh scent that lingered on his clothing and triggered her memory to a wooden bench in a park, encased by trees.

She liked it.

Hiwatari suddenly, but gently, jerked his arm out of her grip and stepped away. She noted that his breathing had become strangely shallow. "I…have to go now." He took another step back. "I'll see you tomorrow." He turned away from her and started to run, his long legs carrying him far across the green expanse.

"Hiwatari-san! Hiwatari!" But calling out to him was useless, he had already disappeared around the other end of the school. "It was good talking to you too," she spat out, pouting. He was forever running out on her, leaving her to meander about on her own once more.

But it wasn't Satoshi leaving her alone that seemed to bother her so much now. If she thought hard about it, and admitted things honestly to herself, she found that she was far more disappointed at the fact that Satoshi simply left her at all.

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Daisuke flicked the calling card onto the floor and laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The sunset outside splashed his room with colors of deepest garnet and palest gold. He checked his watch. It was nearing seven o'clock. That left him two hours of leisure before succumbing to the call of his alter ego and flying into the night to steal yet another artifact of Hikari art.

He sighed. As if his daily schedule wasn't taxing enough.

He flipped onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow. He wasn't even sure where he was going tonight; and, it seemed, neither did Dark. He had asked him if he knew about The Mystic's Dream, but all he got was a disinterested mumble.

"If I don't know about it then it must not be that important," was his reply.

Even asking his mother and grandfather had been near useless.

"A very ancient piece of art, Daisuke. Said to be one of the most heavily guarded works by the Hikari family. Hardly any information has ever been released on it," his grandfather had told him. This, however, did nothing to help Daisuke.

"Mom?" He had approached his mother with the subject, seeing as she had been the one to leave the calling card. But she had only smiled unknowingly as she cheerfully washed the dishes. "Well, with a name like 'The Mystic's Dream', it has to be beautiful, right?"

And that was as much as he knew about that night's target. He wasn't even sure of the location, but Dark had said that they would find it, eventually.

"Trust me," the Phantom Thief said before settling into a nap before his time was called.

Daisuke sighed again and checked his watch. Seven thirty. The minutes were dragging on.

He glanced at his phone lying next to his head. The comforting thing to do would be to call Riku up, but then he'd be on the phone with her for hours. Besides, she had enough to worry about already, what with the play coming fast upon their heels. He didn't want to disturb her.

He frowned and turned his head the other way.

But what had really been concerning him was Satoshi. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Hiwatari would be playing Commander tonight, and that he, Dark, Satoshi, and Krad would certainly end up in an intense chase or heated battle. But Daisuke wasn't sure if Hiwatari would be up to it tonight. He didn't look any better at school, and transforming into Krad looked to take a lot of energy out of him. Not to forget Krad's excessive use of magic and its toll on his tamer's body.

"Kyuu?" Wiz had clambered up onto his bed, his floppy ears bouncing at his sides. Daisuke turned around to smile at him.

"It's okay Wiz, I'm not asleep. I know it's nearing the time." He picked him up and laid him on his stomach. Wiz cocked his head.

"Kyuu."

Daisuke suppressed a yawn. "I guess I am a little tired, but I'll manage. Dark will be doing all the work, anyway." His brow furrowed. "I just hope that Hiwatari-san hasn't planned anything too difficult for us tonight."

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He checked his watch. Half past eight. The time was approaching. He looked back up at his father, the mismatched colors of red and blue dancing behind his silhouette.

"Father?"

Hiwatari folded his hands under his chin, leaning forward ever so slightly. The serene smile on his lips and the cool way his eyes scanned the room hid a cold interior of suspicion and anxiety, a tactic Satoshi had watched his father use over and over again whenever he requested something.

"Satoshi." The way he said his name was always so distant, like he was speaking to an employee rather than his son. "What you're telling me is that Dark will come here tonight to steal a piece of artwork no one has ever heard about nor have ever seen. You want me to allow the local police force onto my property to set up their own feeble security measures, allow you into the haven below ground to set up your own security procedures, and, also, to deploy fifteen of my best men to serve as your own special operatives." He tilted his head forward. "Is that correct?"

Satoshi resisted the urge to yell. His father made him feel like this sometimes; like a small, unruly child with fantastic demands. "Yes sir," was the answer he forced out. His father closed his eyes, nodded, and leaned back in his chair. Meanwhile, the police lights continued to blaze behind him.

There was quite a long pause. "All right then, I concede."

He stood up straighter. Concede? So easily? His father had never agreed to his terms so soon before. "Really?"

"Yes, Satoshi. Really." Then his simple grin expanded to a full smirk, and Satoshi drew his surprise within himself once more. There was a catch. There was always a catch.

"What do you want, father?" The question was frost on his tongue, but it barely affected the stone man sitting in front of him.

Hiwatari swiveled his leather chair back and forth, his gaze locked on Satoshi's eyes. "You needn't sound so brittle; my request is simple."

Blue eyes narrowed. "And what is your request?"

"Tell me what The Mystic's Dream is."

Satoshi turned on his heel and walked towards the door, slipping his jacket on as he went. He reached for the knob.

"Is it that dangerous, Satoshi?"

He froze. His father continued to goad him, but as talented as he was in blocking out mediocre giggles and comments of his fellow classmates, he was powerless against the taunts of his own father.

"Or else is it that you wish to hold the secrets of The Mystic's Dream for yourself; Hikari possessiveness, I presume? Then again, I shouldn't be surprised. Until tonight I had not known I was housing such a titled sculpture in my hollow. What is it about this art that has the Hikari's so tight-lipped about it's existence?"

Don't give in to it. Don't listen to him. It was just another of his clan's mistakes, and he intended to keep this one quiet. A quiet danger.

"If I tell you, will you give me leave of your property and men?" He heard the gentle creak of a chair and then smooth footsteps approaching him. Still, he did not look back from the door.

A hand was laid upon his shoulder. "Show me, and you are master of my manor for the night."

Satoshi swallowed the lump in his throat and opened the door, beckoning his father to follow.

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There was a time in the Hikari lifestyle when the great artists began to long for something more than just their motionless art. Their quest for beauty and expression drove them to create powerful works that went far beyond the perception of art, including The Eternal Guide, The Second Hand of Time, and the sinister angel of myth and legend, Krad.

Their strive for beauty immersed them into a morbid quest of power and creation, making their art weapons of fantasy.

Yet during that hunger for power and control, there was a deeper darkness stirring within them; a longing to give birth to something completely devoted to beauty. Something so captivating that it could literally drown the world in its wonder.

Every Hikari creation had a purpose unto itself: The Eternal Guide was meant to show the way, The Second Hand of Time was meant to give and take time at will, and even Krad was given immense powers of destruction and magic in balance to his other half, Dark. Each artwork had been christened with a purpose, and so, in this way, was The Mystic's Dream.

Art which could tear a person's deepest desires and dreams from them. Art which could dwindle a person down to near emptiness. Art that fed on a person's soul…

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Dark crouched low in the shadows of the trees, peeking out between the leaves. In the distance he could see the great Victorian mansion surrounded by it's iron wrought gate, twenty-odd police cars with their sirens dancing, parked in it's front courtyard, and exactly sixty-seven uniformed officers scattered around the premises. He shrugged to himself, sitting back against the tree's bark. There were probably more inside.

"But there isn't a crowd," Dark muttered to himself, disappointed. "Aren't people interested in me anymore?"

"No one knows about the art, Dark, so no one's going to come out and see you steal it. I doubt even the news knows that you're coming out tonight." Daisuke's response was more than probable, but Dark was still disgruntled.

"But we found this place easily. It's hard to miss all those blazing lights."

This was true. Dark and Daisuke weren't sure where they were supposed to go that night for their thieving, but when Dark had risen into the sky they had immediately noticed a blue and red glow on the far outskirts of town. Finding 'The Mystic's Dream' had seemed to be easier than they thought.

Dark heard his tamer laugh good-naturedly. "Most people don't have Wiz to give them wings."

"So, Daisuke, what is this place?"

"I don't know. It's outside of the town, and I've never been this way before. To tell the truth, I never knew this place was here." He could feel Daisuke settling inside of him and allowing him to take over, solo, for the night. "Are you sure you know what you're doing Dark? Where to go, where the 'Mystic' is?"

In truth Dark had no idea where to go; nor did he have the advantage of finding the art through luck simply because he knew what it looked like. The entirety of his plan for the night consisted of getting inside the mansion and basically walking around till he saw a room with Hiwatari inside standing in front of the said art work that needed protection.

"Don't worry, Daisuke. I'll take care of things. Wiz!" Dark dropped from the tree branch just as Wiz slipped onto his back, transforming into the infamous pair of black wings and lifting Dark into the air. "I would have liked it better if I knew what I was dealing with though."

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A sculpture made from fire and ice, it was a blown glass figure of a beautiful maiden. A maiden meant to embody all the perfections mankind strove for. She was glorious, with long, flowing hair caught in an endless breeze and garments drifting about her limbs in stilled motion. The entirety of her position was an arched back, slender arms reaching lovingly for the sky, and the whole of her balancing on a solitary foot pointed towards the earth. Such was the mastery of the Hikaris.

But, like all their art, The Mystic's Dream held powers beyond comprehension. When bathed in the light of the moon, the silver beams dancing through every transparent curve in the sculpture, the statue would be endowed with a life all it's own, becoming the human version of the maiden, as beautiful alive as she was encased. From her lips there would rip the most sinister yet enticing song, giving the façade of a wondrous siren. And from her nimble frame would come the graceful motions of a dancer, her bare feet sweeping across the floor.

All this was part of her beauty; the seduction to which she lured her victims. She embodied the very meaning of art in her appearance, song, and dance. She offered splendor.

But in return for that splendor, she required a payment.

A payment of a man's deepest desires and dreams. Every want, every hope, every longing would erupt within the victim's mind and heart, consuming them. And these were what the Mystic fed upon. The slightest brush would drain your desires, the gentlest touch would erase your hopes, and a single kiss would destroy all your dreams.

And what is a soul deprived of its dreams? It is nothing but an empty vessel embedded with misery and regret. A hollow shell. A lifeless case.

This was the horror of the Hikari's: a creation that could reduce the human spirit to near nothingness. A dangerous work not meant to be revealed but locked away for decades until the day a means was discovered to destroy it.

The most beautiful work of the Hikaris was thence locked away and passed throughout the generations until one of their number could seal the evil it possessed…

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