Chapter Seven — A Rose Caught in a Devil's Snare

There was a stale moment of panic that held the air for a split second; a moment when they both just stared at each other, Risa's brown eyes wide and unbelieving and Satoshi's blue ones cold and dismayed. After all he had been through that night, did he really need this to deal with as well?

He inwardly scolded himself for getting into this mess. If he'd only been a little stronger, had a little more will power, he could have made it all the way home instead of falling onto some foreign balcony. What lay before him now was a problem he had created, and he momentarily mourned the loss of his peaceful and concealed lifestyle. After Risa saw his wings she would surely be able to piece two and two together.

But then the moment had passed on into more moments and still she did nothing, only stared at him from her place on the floor, the last remnants of the moon lighting up her pale features. And then he realized that if the moonbeams shone on her, then they were illuminating only his back, and he was nothing more than a strange silhouette on her parapet. She wouldn't have been able to see his face.

She didn't know who he was.

With a grunt of effort, Satoshi rose to his feet, staggering a bit while making sure to keep his back to the disappearing moon. He stared down at Risa's form, saw her hold her breath as he spread his wings wide. She must have been terrified, seeing a winged creature like himself alight just outside her bedroom. What a creature he was. What a monster.

Without another glance in her direction, Satoshi rose into the sky, his shoulder blades beating his wings systematically, hot fire burning in his every wound. But he fought to rise upward, even after he saw her door fly open, even after he noticed her running out onto her balcony, and even after he felt her tiny hands grab at his shirt to pull him back down again.

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He was beautiful. Like an angel.

The lean frame and his hair blowing in the ocean wind. His long fingers and those towering wings. She was almost captivated by the shadow; the need to see his face was irrelevant. She didn't have to see him to know him and to adore him.

Who else could it be but her beloved Dark? What other stealthy being would it be who could fly up to her balcony and stand there with all the command in the world? There was no one else, because Dark was so unique, she could love only him. And this being standing before her, this majestic person, was the man she was meant to love. She knew it.

But then she saw him look up and bend his knees and she knew he was preparing to fly off, to leave her behind once again. She didn't know if she'd ever get the chance to see him again, and that thought jerked her into action without a moment's hesitation.

"No, wait!" She shot to her feet and fell against the door, her hand groping for the handle and then throwing it wide open in her haste. "Please, don't go!" He was already rising up into the air but Risa, afraid of getting left behind, jumped forth and snatched at his arm, pulling him back down with her. There was a grunt of pain that sounded from his darkened face, but she did not take heed to it. "Please, Dark, don't leave me again--,"

A cold hand, callused and cut, fell over her eyes as she was pushed up against the wall with a force that left her breathless. The other hand was grasping her arm in its long fingers, holding her fast against the wall as well. A fleeting thought of terror filled her and she suddenly hoped that she was not mistaken about her intruder's identity. But then the man spoke, and although it was barely a whisper and indecipherable, she knew there was kindness behind it and that she need not fear it's owner.

"Do not look at me. Do not scream. You must realize the urgency of keeping my identity secret," he said. Risa swallowed hard and nodded against his hand.

"Yes, I understand. You're the Phantom Thief."

A pause.

"Yes…yes I am."

"Dark."

The fingers on her arm slackened, but her eyes remained concealed, the forced darkness a small price to pay for being in his presence. He didn't say anything for awhile, and the silence between them began to lengthen. With a tentative hand and a forced bravery, Risa lifted her lead-filled fingers and reached out to touch his face. Touch connected with soft hair, and he flinched in reaction. He was probably absorbed in deep thought and she had caught him by surprise. She smiled. It was a sweet image, imaging Dark so distracted that he would jump at her touch.

"You're hurt," Risa realized, feeling the sticky substance of blood over shallow fissures all around his scalp. She ran her hand through his hair, combing it back even while is slid through her fingers, tangled yet soft. She thought she heard him catch his breath. "What happened to you?" When he didn't answer she grabbed onto his wrist and tried to uncover her eyes.

"No." His hand didn't budge.

"But I already know your face. I've seen you so many times before." She reached out and boldly explored the contours of his face. He held his breath, for the sound of his breathing immediately ceased. She could trace the outlines of his high cheekbones and the deep valleys of his eyes. Risa frowned. They were the same although, somehow, oddly different. His jaw wasn't as square and his eyes did not feel so feline, but they were still strong and they were still familiar, in some way or another.

"Risa, stop it." He still did not talk above a whisper, but his voice sounded urgent. Reluctantly, and slowly, she took her hands away from his face.

"Then at least let me see you."

"No."

"Why are you acting so strange? Like you're afraid? You're never afraid."

"How do you know what I'm like?" He sounded disingenuous, as if what he said held a conspiratorial note to it. It was a sinister double-play on words, and she could not find it's other meaning. "You don't know me."

She swatted his hand aside, uncovering her eyes in a blur. "How can you say that after all this time, Dark!" She waited to see his face but it never came. Just as quickly he twisted her by her shoulders so that her back was to him, holding her firmly to his chest so she could not turn around to look.

"Do not look at me!"

"Why does it matter if I already know who you are!"

He didn't answer, but his grip did slacken. The warmth of his chest was leaving her shoulders. He was backing away, preparing to leave again. She hated it when he left.

Risa, caught by her stubbornness and lured by his odd behavior, wriggled her arm free. She reached behind her and hooked his head with her hand, pulling him down to her upturned face. It was a kiss born of a spontaneous nature; out of character, although not unheard of. And a little unconventional, on the physical side. Her hand held him by the nape of his neck as he was bent over her shoulder, his face forcibly curved down to meet hers.

But it wasn't what she had expected.

She had kissed Dark before; knew the taste of him and the feel. This time she felt neither one as a familiar presence but as something completely foreign. It was soft and sweet, an innocently haunted kiss of darkness and light. It was tentative and unsure, surprise mixed with an absolute unknown rarity. It tasted like the salt of the sea and smelled of fresh, cold nights.

It certainly was not the same, but she liked it better. A whole lot better.

In a flash he broke the kiss, staggering back from her as if she held a plague. Risa spun around to face him, her cheeks flushed and her breath stolen away, but when she turned to him she saw only the swirl of his wings before a blast of wind collided with her face and he was gone, rising into the air with the speed of a bullet and the grace of the moon.

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Sweat dotted his brow, but it wasn't from his fight with Dark hours before. He darted through the night sky, the comforting thought of his empty apartment driving him through his physical limitations. He could feel his heart racing and the pulse that beat against his neck was almost suffocating.

A kiss, an unforeseen action executed while he had been distracted. How was he to know she could be so damn forward? He had been preoccupied the entire time, trying to find a clean way out, to escape her presence without her finding out that he wasn't Dark.

He could still feel the brand of her kiss on his lips, a searing sensation he was not at all comfortable with. Somewhere within him he could feel Krad swirling around in anxious anticipation to be freed by emotions rather than forcing his way out. But it seemed Satoshi's body was much too tired even to obey his DNA. Krad remained locked within while Hiwatari began to fall from the sky, the foyer of his apartment building rising up to meet him.

He collapsed on the front stoop, breathless and drained. His cheek lay against the cold concrete, his body temperature dropping and his flesh consuming itself in a fever. There, it was kicking in. The illness he knew would come from his overexertion. This time it felt dangerous, though. He was weaker, hotter, more fatigued. Blood was dribbling from his cuts and his flesh bore many battle scars unseen in their number. He was sick; sick from losing the thing he had sworn to defend and sick from his pains.

Not to mention his pounding heart and a young girl's kiss.

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Dark flinched abruptly, glaring over his shoulder as if he expected to see someone looming over him. He hated this feeling of helplessness, the lack of courage that it forced him to hold. He was used to being in command, to taking charge over everything he did. Now he found himself jumping at the smallest sound or the slightest movement, even though he was perched safely in the trees of the park. It was frustrating.

"Come out, Daisuke, I can't take this anymore." With a soft glow and a rustle of leaves Dark closed his eyes a resumed his solitary state within Daisuke Niwa's body. Daisuke, after taking a moment to collect himself, blinked rapidly at his surroundings and at his situation.

"Dark? Did you change us back?" At first there was no answer, but after he prodded his other half for a while he received a reply.

"Yes, I changed back…willingly. Just don't get used to it; it won't be happening often." Although it could not be seen, anyone would have been able to feel the scowl that crossed Dark's face.

Daisuke frowned and sat down on the branch, leaning against the trunk. "Something's wrong with you. You never change back through choice. What's happened? What's going on? Why aren't we back home?"

"We can't go home," Dark snapped. "Not yet anyway. It might start looking there first. Your mom's got enough art to send any treasure hunter crazy, let alone a magical one sensitive to their life force. And if there's a treasure hunter out there with the same sense as I have, then your home is the first place to look." He sounded angry more than scared, but fear was definitely present in his tone.

"A treasure hunter?" Daisuke asked. "One with your powers?" He thought for a moment, trying to digest what Dark was saying. And then a cold notion occurred to him and he sat up straighter against the tree bark. "But how is the Mystic--,"

"Didn't you feel it? That strange sensation that came from the vault before the Commander pulled us out?"

Daisuke shook his head. "No."

"It was the same magic that I can sense from Krad, so I know that that sculpture is Hikari made…but there was something else…"

"Another magic?"

Dark scowled within. "Of course not, no. Something else. It was like feeling a person's emotions." He was silent for a moment, and when he spoke Daisuke had to strain to listen to his inner voice. "It was as if all it wanted was to possess something. It has a need, Daisuke. A need to possess something or someone with all its power. It wants something, obsesses over it. And it's searching…searching for that rarity, that one thing that it must obtain."

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Sweet perfumes of the night. Cold cement beneath the skin. The chill of realizing how alive one is. She shivered and savored the feeling. To move again was truly a luxury.

The Mystic looked around. On either side of her the street was lined with flagstone houses and porches of three steps and mailboxes painted red with the cobblestones to close them in. Cherry blossoms were planted in every green patch and the salty sea could be smelled and heard from anywhere. A few lights glowed in the windows but no one was on the street.

Such a town. Such a little town.

She walked on slowly, her feet seeming to not touch the ground at all as she glided along. As much as she would have loved to simply stroll about and soak in the night, the Mystic knew her time was limited…and the pull…the pull inside of her was growing with every second she wasted. If she did not find something soon the pull would surely…she couldn't possibly survive its…

"Where is my dear Hikari?" she whispered. Mist began to gather about her slender feet and fan out, hovering inches above the street as his bled into the town. "The hands that sculpted me…the fires that made me…the wings that freed me…where is he?"

She looked up and down the street, her knee-length hair swirling about her as if floating in water. Her mist grew, filling the space around her in its grey shine. And then the Mystic opened her mouth, and her song, so soft and quiet, tore from her mouth to penetrate the dreams of the sleeping and haunt the minds of those who dared to search for beauty in their lives.

"Dreams of the wistful, lonely young eyes

Clouded with mysteries' lustful lies,

I seek a spirit, a soul and a heart

And Mystic appearing tear dreams apart…"

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He fumbled with his key, got it into the lock, and nearly lost his balance as he turned the wheels. There was a click and the door opened to his quiet apartment. It was a miracle that he'd gotten out of the street in the first place and another that he'd made it to his home.

He dropped to the floor and kicked the door closed, not even thinking to lock it. Who would come in, anyway? No one ever came to see him. He was a lonely boy; someone not worthy to harbor friends.

With a groan Satoshi sat up and reached for the lock, flicking it closed. The last thing he wanted was Daisuke and the Harada twins barging in on him once again, especially in the state that he was in. They would be the only ones to disturb his solitary existence; to get involved.

He felt a cool sensation spreading across his torso and he lifted his shirt, looking down. The cut there was healing over, looking as though it had been allowed to heal for two weeks. The scar was fresh but secure; unexpected but not unwanted. Satoshi could have laughed. His body was becoming so damaged that Krad had to do something. He had to start healing faster or else Satoshi would be too weak to bow to his wishes.

Oh, how things seemed to just work out. He struggled to his feet, his headache still strong but his fever diminishing with yet another cool sensation to his skin. He walked over to his kitchen and pulled out a glass, filling it with water and then pouring it down his throat. Somehow the touch of glass on his lips reminded him of Risa's kiss, and he felt the stirrings of frustration clouding his mind again.

What a stupid girl; kissing a stranger in the dark like that.

Satoshi pulled his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes, sleep tugging at every muscle. If gazed upon he would have looked like a simple boy up way past his bedtime. He could feel the sting of the air on his pupils.

"…mysteries' lustful lies…"

He straightened up, suddenly alert as the bones of his rib cage mended themselves enough to hold. A horrified shiver traveled up his spine and he could feel the chill of eyes on his neck. He looked around, but there was no one. Naturally.

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Risa stared at the water a little longer before throwing back her glass and draining the last of her lemonade. It was sweet, just the way she liked it. Just the way Riku always made it.

She rubbed at her eyes and pushed her hair away from her face. She was tired, very, very tired, but she did not want to sleep. She was too excited. The light of the morning was too bright to spend in bed and her nerves were too jittery to keep her still. She smiled, even thought there really was nothing to smile about.

Risa leaned on the parapet of her balcony and breathed in the salty essence, feeling the brisk air sting her lungs. "Riku!"

Riku's voice echoed to her from somewhere in the house, far enough for her to shout, close enough for her to be audible. "What is it Risa?"

"I want to do something today."

A few moments later Riku came into the room, slowing down her run, her short hair bouncing about her head. She stopped in the entranceway of the balcony, staring at the back of her sister. "Say that again?"

Risa shrugged. "I'm getting bored. Let's do something." She turned around and frowned. "Or are you doing something with Daisuke today?"

Riku shook her head. "No."

"Let's go to the shore," Risa suggested, glancing over her shoulder. "We haven't gone down there together in so long."

"It's because we haven't had much time lately, what with the play and everything," Riku explained. She leaned against the door frame. "Let's make it a picnic. We can have lunch near the waterfront."

Risa smiled widely. "That's sounds great." She pushed off of the balcony rail and skipped over to her sister. "Want me to cook?"

"No."

Risa frowned. "Oh."

Riku smiled. "I'll cook. You can go find us a blanket to sit on."

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Satoshi stared at her, blank-faced and waiting. Her face was a blur to his vision, but he knew it was her; knew that the figure before him couldn't be any less human.

"My Hikari," she whispered, the echo of her voice resounding off the walls. Walls that he couldn't see. "My sweet, lonely Hikari."

Satoshi did not answer…knew that to speak would be to reveal something about himself that he did not want known to this creation. So he waited.

"You are my only one," she went on. "You are the only one of your kind. You are lonely and isolated and you hold sorrow in your heart. Nobody loves you."

It didn't matter that it was true.

"I am dying."

Satoshi frowned. "What?"

She began to cry, the sound of her sobs quiet and innocent. "I am dying and soon my glass will be scattered on the streets of your people. I will be blown away."

"What are you talking about? You're not human. You can't die."

"Everything can die. That is why I must find you, my Hikari. I need…I want…and I can only take yours."

Satoshi took a step back. "Take my what?"

She was right in front of him now, a faceless woman of immense horrors. "Your life." And then she held up a glass shard and stabbed it into his skull.

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Satoshi screamed, sat up, groped around him, trying to find someone through his blurred vision. His fingers touched the solidness of his walls and he could feel the sheets from his bed slide off his skin. He blinked and gasped for breath. He swallowed and reached over to snatch his glasses from the floor. He felt horrid.

He slipped his glasses onto his face and looked around. He was in the safety of his room, his sheets tangled around him and white feathers littering the floor. He rubbed his forehead where a headache was forming as he laid back down to stare at the ceiling. He could remember coming home and struggling to get inside and he could remember staggering into his bedroom, ripping off his shirt and dropping into bed. But the dream…or nightmare…that he had been having was lost to him now. He could recall what it had been about, only that it was giving him quite a brain pounding.

He groaned and glanced at the watch he still wore. Past noon. Despite the headache and a few aches and pains here and there he felt better than he had for days. Krad's power must have healed him during the night. Satoshi guessed that he just had to push himself on the brink of death before he could convince the monster inside of him to contribute to the relationship.

There was a vibrating noise and then the soft ringing of his cell phone. He reached towards the floor again and picked it up.

"Hello?" he half whispered, pressing the heel of his palm into his forehead.

"Commander Hiwatari."

"Did you need something, Saehara-san?" Satoshi asked, trying to keep his tone level. He was a boy known for suppressed emotions, but annoyance was slowly building inside of him. "It's still early."

There was a cough through the phone. "Yes, well Commander, I just thought I'd report to you that I think we lost 'The Mystic's Dream' last night."

"You think you lost it?"

"Yes, well, we saw Dark fly away and when we went to go check where he took off from we found a huge hole in the ground opening into an underground vault. My men checked it out and they said other than a few broken shards and a jacket, there was nothing else there."

Satoshi sat up quickly, his heart pounding. "Did you say you found a hole?"

Saehara coughed again. "Yes, Commander. It was gigantic too; almost caved in the entire vault. Looked like some sort of explosive or firework or something completely--,"

"Thank you Detective. Call me again if you get another update." He hung up the phone and threw it over his shoulder onto the bed. "Mon dieu de le Medici," he hissed, a phrase he had picked up at private college from the French Ambassador's nephew; a proud Huguenot. "She's free."

He sprang out of bed and snatched a few clothes from his closet and heading for the bathroom. The one thing he had spent the entire night preventing and, in the end, he failed. Satoshi knew that were he to remedy this mistake he had to act fast, beyond his limitations and his own weaknesses.