Chapter Thirteen—Searching For Answers They Did Not Know

"Women are beautiful. Everything they do is beautiful." --Edward Kynaston, Stage Beauty

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Daisuke jogged his way up the museum steps, slipping on his coat as he went. A chill breeze had been blowing all day, a strange development at this time of year. He vaguely wondered if it had anything to do with Silence.

"Dai!"

Towa was standing in the middle of the vast entry courtyard, a noticeable contrast compared to the people milling about around her. She swung her arm wildly over her head, waving him over. Dai fixed his collar, slung his bag over one shoulder and trotted over to where she stood.

"Oh Dai, I always forget how handsome you look in your school uniform," she squealed upon his approach, reaching forward to brush lint off his shoulder. Daisuke couldn't help but smile. All weekend Towa had been acting strange and silent, so it was good to have her bubbly and chipper once again.

"Hi, Towa." He ran a hand through his hair and looked around. "So, what's going on? I got a letter from mom saying that the horn is gone. What happened to it?"

The wide-eyed Guide shrugged, glancing around, to see if anyone was paying too close attention to them, before leaning close to him and whispering. "We had just noticed that the markings had disappeared from it when it just suddenly vanished. Emiko-san noticed the horn the minute she came home, and when we went to look at it, it faded away in Kosuke-san's hands. The artworks having been acting strangely as well. They're restless and afraid; their magic is acting up and it could get dangerous, having so many in one place." She shivered involuntarily. "Even I didn't like being in the house. That's why I volunteered to meet you here."

"Are you all right then, Towa?"

"Yes, I'm fine now. Thank you Dai, you're so sweet." She sighed. "It's just…The Mystic's Dream. I did not like having it around in the first place, but now, with the horn gone, it makes me even more uncomfortable than before."

Daisuke's brow furrowed as he thought. "But why? There is a definite connection between The Mystic and Silence, but we can't know the whole story unless we know their history. And all we have of that is a storybook--,"

"No, Dai, no we don't!" Towa was jumping up and down, her tiny hands grabbing onto his shirt. "That is why you're here! We found something, Dai. Emiko-san has found something!"

Daisuke looked surprised. "She did?" he asked. Towa nodded. "What? What is it?"

She smiled enthusiastically and bent her head in close. "A journal."

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"Set it down here," Takeshi called out and the three other boys helping, including Satoshi, bent down and gently laid the large and very ornate castle backdrop on the floor of the auditorium. His classmates all groaned and gingerly touched their backs, complaining and whining. Satoshi just stood quietly, waiting for any more instructions that might be thrown his way.

The set wasn't even that heavy.

"Could someone please help us with this? We shouldn't even be carrying it," Ritsuko wailed, trudging through the side curtains onto the stage. She was hauling the huge oak tree from act one behind her, Risa pushing from the other side.

"It's not that bad," Risa was mumbling. "It's on wheels--,"

"It's heavy!" Ritsuko stomped her foot, pulling weakly on the tree. "Somebody take this!"

"I'll help you." Satoshi moved to stand next to her, holding out his hands for the rope she was tugging on. Ritsuko gasped and jumped, spinning around and facing him. Her face flushed a deep red and the other girls within earshot fell silent and watched.

"Oh…Hiwatari-san.…" She looked down, trying to fight the smile that was threatening her mouth. "I…that would be…thank you…."

"Not at all," he drawled, and took the rope in his own hands. He glanced over his shoulder at Risa. "I've got this, Harada-san."

She stepped away from the tree, her hands shrinking back into the white sleeves of her jacket. "Are you sure? I could still help--,"

"Don't worry. It's on wheels, just like you said." He pulled the rope over his shoulder and guided it into a corner next to the castle. For some strange, unknown and mysterious reason, this made many of the girls giggle.

And, to be brutally honest, it was starting to get on his last nerve.

"Um, Hiwatari-sempai."

Satoshi turned around and looked down to see one of the more quiet girls of his class looking up at him with wide, almost watery eyes. He stared down at her, taken aback. But now he was cornered, pushed into the alcove between the tree and the castle, and with no visible way to escape. He felt like an ogre, staring down at this tiny, little girl, but he also felt extremely intimidated.

"Er—yes?" he asked. She smiled weakly at him and blushed.

"Saehara-san asked me to bring in the wings for Dark, and I was wondering if you would like to help me? He told me to get someone to help, seeing as the wings are so big."

What was he supposed to say? He wanted to say no because she seemed like yet another lovestruck girl hoping to confess her feelings to him. But, then again, he did not want to appear presumptuous and egotistical, because maybe she really did just need his help.

He sighed and nodded. "Okay," was his only reply and he swept his arm out for her, indicating that she lead the way. The girl's smile was unnaturally wide and she set off, glancing over her shoulder to make sure he followed.

Which, of course, he did.

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In which case he followed, of course. Because that was who Satoshi was and Risa could not change that.

As smart and independent as he was, Satoshi's cold silence tended to make him susceptible to people and their demands. She noticed that when asked, he would always say yes. Yes to the play, yes to dressing as Dark, and yes to helping people carry black wings in from the classroom.

And it did not help to know that the girl he was going with had, moments before, been in a deep conversation with her friends about whether or not she should take her chance to confess her love to Satoshi. It had made Risa jealous, certainly, but it also made her angry. Satoshi had made it obvious over the years that he did not like it when girls cornered him with a confession, and she thought it selfish of this girl to think that today would be any different.

"I could help you," Risa heard herself offer, stepping forward and stopping them. They both looked back at her. "I mean, Saehara needs people to secure the castle to the ropes, and Hiwatari-san is the tallest boy in the class." She shrugged, smiling at the look on the girl's face. "I'll help with the wings in his place--,"

"Harada-san! You're sister needs you!"

Risa winced at the incredibly bad timing and glanced over her shoulder. Ritsuko was waving to her, beckoning her over with a flick of her wrist. "She needs help with Niwa's costume!"

"Well, I guess you're busy as well," the girl replied smugly. She turned to Satoshi and smiled. "The wings are back in the classroom," she said, and trounced off knowing, full well, that he was going to follow. Satoshi started after her once more.

"Hiwatari," she started to say. He stopped walking and turned to her, waiting. She bit her lip. "I don't mean to sound rude, but she only wants your help so she can tell you she loves you. I overheard her talking with her friends about it." She tried to smile at him but found that the action felt guilty. Satoshi cocked his head to one side, watching her.

"You were eavesdropping?" he suddenly asked, the slightest, most minute grin playing onto his face. Risa shook her head.

"I can't help it if they were loud," she said shrugging. The smile she offered him was a friendly one, and he accepted it. "I'm just...warning you."

"Why?"

She looked at the ground, thinking. Why? Well, because she was the one who liked him, and she did not want any other girl to hone in, was the obvious answer. But she also found that she cared not only for her own selfish thoughts, but for Satoshi's as well. He would feel awkward and put on the spot and the situation did not seem very fair.

She had felt obligated to warn him because…

"Because we're friends," she said truthfully, her face betraying her surprise at her own words. She grimaced at the naivety of her statement. "Eh…that sounded stupid."

But Satoshi actually smiled at her and shook his head. "Not really," he replied, and then turned around and walked off after the girl.

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Daisuke and Towa walked languidly through the labyrinthine halls of the downtown art museum, upholding the façade as a couple of friends enjoying the displays on a lazy afternoon while secretly trying to discuss the mission that they had been sent on.

"So how did my mom find this journal?" Dai asked, shortening his strides because Towa as so small. "If it's a Hikari secret heirloom, how did it end up in a such a public place?"

"That's the thing," the Guide started. "It's not exactly public. It's held in the basement, where the rare artworks are stored. It's an exhibit that's only open from 11:00 am to 6:30 pm, and there is high security surrounding the area that isn't present on these upper levels. And what's more, it's mixed in with other ancient books in a glass case, so it'll be hard to pick out." She smiled sweetly as they passed a young couple. "Not to mention that all these people will be hard to slip past once we do have the journal. We can't risk having Dark-san seen by so many; he'd almost definitely attract attention."

Daisuke frowned and glanced out the nearest window. "He says that it's not his fault he's so popular," he said offhandedly, straying away from Towa's side and towards the window. The Guide looked confused.

"What?"

"Dark."

"Dark?"

"Dark," he repeated. "He says it's not his fault." He waved Towa to his side and pointed out the window. "See there, Towa?" He was indicating a single story brick wing of the museum, three floors down from where they were and with smoked-glass windows lining the walls. It didn't look like any of the exhibit wings. "That's probably where the offices are located and, if I'm right, where the museum curator's office is as well."

Towa shrugged, not understanding. "So?"

"So, if the journal is kept in one of the display cases in the basement, that means it is considered a rare and priceless artwork. Those pieces are given extra care, hence the enhanced security. That also means that the pieces are brought out of their cases daily to be cleaned and cared for, which is why the exhibit has such a short time frame. Ancient books, especially. The paper contained within should be centuries old, so it might be paper made from some parchment type and written in Sumi or Indian Ink, which tends to bleed a little more than others and has a darker hue if it's not diluted. Those kind of materials need constant vigilance on them as time goes by or some could smudge the writing. It's fragile, and fragile means it has the curators full attention." He half-grinned to himself, still staring at the building. "That's when we'll steal it, when it's on its way to the curator." He nodded to himself, slightly proud of his plan. When he heard no response from Towa he turned to her, a little hurt that she hadn't at least said something. "Towa…?"

The Eternal Guide was staring up at him with glistening eyes, her hands clasped under her chin and her face cracked into a dreamy smile. "Oh, Daisuke," she sighed, heavily. "You really are a Phantom Thief, aren't you?"

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The girl was quick, and Satoshi had to at least give her credit for that. When most girls confessed to him they would drag the conversation on and on with idle talk, postponing the moment of truth that he knew was coming. It was tedious and boring and only made the situation more uncomfortable. But this girl had spoken up only minutes after they had entered the classroom.

"I love you, sempai."

He was on the other side of the room, near the window, ready to hoist up the monstrous wings. But he stopped, his back feeling strangely exposed now. He straightened up and turned around to see the girl standing in the doorjamb, her hands clasped under her chin nervously.

"Pardon me?" he asked quietly. What else was he supposed to say? "And you shouldn't call me sem--…"

She took a few steps closer, a nervous smile on her face. "I love you, Hiwatari-sempai," she repeated, eyes wide and waiting. "Ever since the first time you spoke to me."

He raised an eyebrow. "You have?"

She nodded. "Yes. It was raining, and I was standing outside after school waiting for my ride. I didn't have an umbrella with me, so I was soaked to the bone and freezing cold. And then you showed up, and you held your umbrella over my head and told me it would be raining for the rest of the week, at the least." Her eyes turned dreamy. "It was so sweet."

Satoshi stared at her, racking his brain for the memory. Had he really done such a thing? When did he ever find time? He tried to recall a rainy afternoon when he'd seen a girl standing by herself in the downpour. He did remember the spontaneous rainy day in fall, when a lot of his classmates had not thought to bring an umbrella…

He inwardly slapped himself. He did remember the event of which she spoke of, but it had been Daisuke who had spotted the helpless girl. Satoshi had been standing in the courtyard with Daisuke because he, too, didn't have an umbrella, when he pointed out the girl. It was at his suggestion that Satoshi went over and momentarily relieved her of the rain.

He was about to explain this to her but she cut him off.

"I know this is very sudden and that I have no right to expect anything from someone like you, but I want you to think about this before you give me an answer. I know you, sempai. I know you like the other girls don't know you. I know that you don't like to listen to the professors' lecture during class, so you always read novels and memoirs at your desk. I know you don't like to play sports, but you're good at all of them, especially swimming. I know that you work at a part-time job in town, and that's why you're usually tired during class. And I know that everyday you eat lunch by yourself on the roof, but lately you've been eating with Niwa-san." She smiled at him. "I know everything about you."

Do you really, he thought to himself. Do you really know anything about me? All you know are the things that you, and everyone else, see. Do you know that I am harboring a dangerous secret inside of me? Do you know that when I go home I enter an empty apartment every night? Do you know that I love the rain and not the sunshine? That winter is my favorite season? That my favorite color isn't blue? That I only see my father at city events? That I'm Chief Commander of Police? That I like to paint but not draw?

No, he thought solemnly. You don't know any of that, because you don't know me at all.

"Sempai, I love you," she repeated.

Satoshi stared down at her, face level and unfeeling as he had always worn it. "I'm sorry, but I don't have time for girls," he answered systematically. It had become a regular mantra for him.

The expected awkward silence followed. The girl stared at him and he stared at the floor. He didn't like this. He had never liked this part.

"That's not true," she suddenly whispered. Satoshi looked up.

"What?"

"That's not true," she repeated, her brow furrowed in dismay. "You say you don't have time for girls, but that's a lie. I always see you with Risa Harada."

He felt his neck grow hot and his hands turn cold. His heart started pounding nervously and, within him, Krad's humor was stirring.

Isn't that a lovely twist of events? He sounded pleased with the situation. Even this scrawny, sorry excuse of a human can see the truth.

Shut up, Krad, Satoshi thought angrily.

"I—I don't know what you're talking about--…"

"Yes you do!" She dropped her hands to her sides and curled them into fists. "A bunch of us saw you two walking to school together a few days ago and I've seen you talk to her more than anyone else. You even asked to speak with her privately before. You do have time for girls, sempai, you just never want to admit--…." Her eyes suddenly grew wide and her jaw dropped as she stared at him.

"What's wrong?" he asked. She pointed at him while her other hand flew to her chest.

"That's the reason, isn't it?" she said. "That's why you've always told those other girls no. It's not because you don't have time for us…it'd because you like Harada."

Scrawny, but clever.

Enough, Krad!

"That's not true," he tried to say, although he found his throat was dry. "I don't--,"

"Yes, you do," she whispered, a dramatic sadness in her voice. "You do."

You do.

"This is a futile argument," he said, trying not to pay attention to his inner demon. "I don't know what you are talking about. I have too much to deal with at the moment and Harada-san is no one special to me."

"Why her?" she demanded, jealousy and anger causing her voice to rise and her head to ignore him. "Why did you have to pick her?"

Satoshi shook his head, trying to calm her down. "I didn't pick her. I didn't pick anyone."

Didn't you?

"Yes, you did! But she's not even---she never even—she doesn't even like you!"

So harsh, Krad said. But true.

Satoshi tried to suppress a growl. Shut up!

"I don't like Harada-san. If anything, we're just…friends."

Are you really?

"Are you really?" she demanded. Satoshi pressed the heel of his hand into his forehead, trying to decipher the difference between the voices. "Is she really just your friend?"

"What I do and to whom I relate with is of no concern to you. I'm sorry for who I am. I know it must have taken quite a lot of courage to come to me and say what you did, but I have to answer you honestly. I just don't have the time for things like this."

Now the girl was crying, and Satoshi was getting a headache. Krad was having an absolute field day. These are precious moments, tamer. But I wonder, what would The Mystic say if she saw you now? She'd be…awful…jealous…

Satoshi was caught by surprise. The last words Krad had spoken sounded different. He had been ecstatic the entire ordeal, spilling out comments without hesitation, egging Satoshi on until his mental hold had weakened and he would be able to transform: he had used the tactic often. But his last comment, about The Mystic's Dream…he had started it as if it were just a another jeer, but he seemed to have realized what he was saying and his voice had darkened considerably when he finished.

Whatever it was he had implied, it was not something good.

What do you mean, Satoshi demanded. What are you talking about? But Krad had gone instantly silent.

"You couldn't love me at all?" the girl was begging, tears streaming down her face. "You couldn't even like me?"

He sighed, his already weak body being drained from the conversation. "I just don't like anyone right now," he said in a low voice. The girl was indignant.

"You're a liar, sempai! Just admit it!"

"I'm not lying," he grumbled. "And don't call me that." She stamped her foot, her hands curled into tiny fists.

"Yes you are!" She ran to him and he leaned away in reaction. She grabbed his shirt collar and stared up into his face. She was so small, more than a head shorter, and even standing on her toes barely made her tall enough to regard easily. "I've loved you for so long, sempai. Ever since I first met you! Doesn't that matter to you? Don't you care?"

Do you? He wanted to ask. Because if you did, then you'd realize that this is selfish. That you did not consider my feelings when you planned this. That this is a situation born out of thoughts for you and not me.

He closed his eyes and pushed away the thoughts. They were cruel and insensitive, and this girl was already on the brink of hysteria.

He stole a breath and leaned way, looking the girl straight in the eye, as was respectable. "I'm sorry, but I won't be anything to you because I can't be anything to you. I…I just don't have time for girls."

And that was the last straw. She released his collar and banged her hands against his chest, her hand lingering a tad longer than what was normal. "Liar!" She gave him one last, longing look before turning on her heel and dashing from the room. Satoshi watched her go, feeling incredibly responsible and guilty for her sadness, but also relieved that this was finally over.

But then…

She had stopped in the doorway, standing a little ways in the hall, and was looking at someone hidden on the other side of the wall. The mad look in her eyes mixed with the tears he had caused created a face of malice, and whoever it was on the receiving end was getting the full blast of it.

"You. I hate you."

They were strong words. Words that Satoshi was secretly glad were not directed at him. Then the girl moved out of view and her voice became muffled and hard to understand. He breathed slowly and leaned against the window, staring at the floor.

He never liked confessions.

Never.

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Risa stomped her way through the halls, angry, frustrated and finding that she was really starting to dislike Takeshi Saehara with a newfound passion. Satoshi and his fan girl had been gone for near fifteen minutes and the ever-powerful director wanted Dark's wings so he could test them on the fly wires. And whom had he chosen to go retrieve the missing couple?

Three guesses who.

"This is ridiculous," she grumbled, throwing her hair back into a ponytail hastily as she continued on. "It's as if some unknown being is forcing us together time and time again for their own sick enjoyment. Like a stupid romance story!" She turned the corner that would lead to her home classroom and immediately heard voices arguing from up ahead. She inched further down the hall and listened carefully. It wasn't voices, but one voice; a girl's. And she sounded close to tears.

"You're a liar, sempai! Just admit it!"

There was a vague mumbling that Risa couldn't make out. Probably Satoshi's calm reply. She had made it to the doorway but waited just outside, wanting to listen in without being seen. She knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but her curiosity was too much. It was what any other fourteen-year-old girl would do.

"Yes, you are!" There was a short pause and, when the girl spoke next, her voice came out in a different volume, as if she had moved. "I've loved you for so long, sempai. Ever since I first met you! Doesn't that matter to you? Don't you care?"

"I'm sorry," Risa heard Satoshi answer. His voice was unnaturally low. "But I won't be anything to you because I can't be anything to you. I…I just don't have time for girls."

There was the sound of a fist banging against cloth and muscle. "Liar!" And then stomping footsteps could be heard and the girl came bursting out of the classroom, pausing just outside the doorway to find her bearings and figure out which way to go. Her head whipped to the right and she spotted Risa, standing in complete shock, her body pressed against the hall wall.

The girl glared at her with pure vehemence, her eyes already red from crying. "You," she spat, as if Risa's presence were a parasite in her world. "I hate you."

Risa was caught completely off guard by the comment and simply stared at the girl, unable to speak. She, in turn, flicked her gaze to the jacket she was wearing, staring at it with pure disgust and anger. "And you're so stupid, Harada-san," she snapped. "Would someone like the Phantom Thief Dark ever wear something so white?!"

And with that, the girl ran past her and down the hall, her legs pounding as she tried to escape her humiliation and rejection. Risa watched her go, her fingers tucked beneath the sleeves.

"I know it's not Dark's," she whispered in reply to the empty hallway. "I know."

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"Mom, we're home!" Daisuke flung his jacket on the coat hook near the door and quickly pulled off his shoes. He hurried down the hall and into the living room where is dad and grandfather were lounging together on the couch. They looked up as he entered and both beamed.

"Daisuke, you're home."

"Yeah." He plopped down in the armchair across from them, tossing his bag on the floor. "I figured I'd just come home instead of heading back to school. I only have a few hours left anyway." He looked around. "Where's mom?"

Kosuke jerked his head to the door leading to the basement. "With the art, as usual. Where's Towa?"

"Right here."

The meager reply had come from the doorway where Towa stood holding onto the frame, her eyes downcast and her demeanor, which had been happy and carefree moments before, blackened. Her eyes flicked to the clothed artwork at the corner of the room, her look wary.

"Are you all right?" Dai asked. "You were fine earlier today."

"It's…that." She pointed a lazy finger at The Mystic. The three males turned around to look. "Can't you feel it? It's so strong…"

Daisuke frowned. He knew Dark could feel it too. "What is it?" he asked, and both the Eternal Guide and Dark answered as one.

"Her—

--Desire."

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Risa peered around the edge of the door, holding fast onto the frame, her palms hidden deep within the white sleeves. She saw Satoshi half sitting on the windowpane, his head bowed low as if he were asleep. But she couldn't blame him for his exhaustion.

She knocked lightly on the wall. "Hiwatari?"

He moved his head languidly, but it was his eyes that darted upward to immediately fix her with their absolute blue, sending a nervous shiver up her spine. He didn't look surprised so much as he looked interrupted. Risa waved feebly, but remained outside of the room.

"Er—Saehara-san sent me," she explained, pointing over her shoulder as if he were standing right there. "He said the wings were taking too long."

He sat up straighter. "We had certain obstacles to take care of," he answered bitterly, bending to hoist the wings into his arms. Their wingspan was at least twice the length of his arm and rather weighty, but Satoshi simply sat them on one shoulder as if they were nothing more than a light bag. "I'm sorry we took so long."

"No, don't be sorry," she assured him. She twiddled her fingers and stared at the ground. "I didn't mean to, but I overheard the last bit of your…conversation. I can understand the delay."

"Could you really understand?" he suddenly asked her. Risa looked up to meet his eyes and saw that he had pursed him lips and was staring at her in mild surprise. "I—I didn't mean to snap at you," he said. But Risa shook her head.

"Don't worry about it," she whispered, and then fell silent. There was an odd moment of quiet between them, both of them avoiding the other's gaze. Risa wanted it to end, wanted one of them to speak and break the silence, but then she also did not want to ruin the moment. As awkward as the quiet was…it was oddly comforting.

"Er--do you need any help?" Risa tried to offer, stepping inside. He stared at her for a while, glanced at the wings, and then back at her tiny frame before she finally cracked a smile. "You're right. Never mind." She cleared the way for him to pass and he strode out of the room, actually pausing in the hallway for her to catch up.

Side by side they walked down the hall: cool, quiet Satoshi Hiwatari and pretty little Risa Harada, probably the oddest couple Azumano Middle School had the pleasure of hosting.

Risa smiled at the thought, glancing up at him as they pressed onward. Was it possible to like someone so much, to get butterflies in your stomach whenever you thought of them or mentioned their name, but then, in their presence, be so comfortably at ease? Granted she had been nervous when they had been performing the scene together, but now, just walking, he seemed like a very close friend whose silence she actually cherished.

"I'm sorry, Harada-san," he said again, his eyes still straight ahead. She glanced at him, confused.

"For what?" she asked.

"For earlier. For what she said to you."

Risa was surprised. He had no reason to be sorry. "You don't have to apologize," she told him. "It wasn't you're fault. I think I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time." She itched all over to ask him how the confession had been, but she knew it would be prying. It was a personal matter between two other people, and she had already done enough by eavesdropping during the last half of the conversation.

All the same, Satoshi seemed disturbed about something. He seemed so much more stiff.

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Satoshi Hiwatari was haunted by two things: the first was what Krad had said in the classroom. His mentioning of the Mystic had opened a whole new door of possibilities, and even more mysteries. Things, he knew, he wanted to discuss with Daisuke along with the elusive journal. The second was Risa Harada.

There was no doubt about the fact that she had been much friendlier to him all day. She spoke kindly and regarded him with either silence or sweet words where before she had been snappy. He figured it had to do with the weekend; disregarding the fact that she, thankfully, could not recall anything having to do with the Mystic or his magic, she did remember the incident at the beach, and that was an ordeal that could definitely muster kinder feelings between them.

But, apart from all that, Satoshi found that he liked having her be more friendly. Not only that, but he had liked that she considered him a friend.

That puzzled him the most.

He didn't have friends.

He had Niwa, but that could hardly count. They were, at the same time, mortal enemies…

But to have a friend…

Or was it even that?

He thought about what the girl had said to him in the classroom. That he liked Risa. That she was the reason why he turned down so many of the fan girls. But that was ridiculous. He had rejected them months before anyone even knew Risa and he had ever spoken to each other. He rejected them because they were superficial.

But I don't want her to be, he instantly thought, ashamed at his own daring and selfishness. I don't want her to be superficial.

"Hiwatari?" Risa began, fiddling with her sleeves.

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

He wanted to say that she already did, but he held his tongue. "Of course," he replied solemnly.

She hesitated as they turned the corner. "Were you there the night at the museum when Riku and I followed Dark to get Niwa's painting back?"

Were he not so strictly disciplined by his father at a young age, Satoshi was certain he would have tripped over his feet and blabbered words right off the bat, causing the situation to become awkward and strange. But he kept his face blank and the wings on his shoulders, walking steadily and swallowing hard. The question had come from nowhere.

"I'm not quite sure I know what you're talking about," he replied, giving his best diplomatic answer and the tone to go with it. But Risa was not amused.

"I could have sworn you were there. I thought I saw you after Riku fell, before I passed out." She stared into his face but he refused to look her in the eye. Whoever said that Risa Harada was a stupid, oblivious girl was probably a stupid, oblivious person themselves. She tended to disregard certain key factors in her environment, but when she wanted to see something she made sure to see it. On a night when she'd be chasing after Dark she'd be sure to remember every single little thing that happened that night.

Satoshi just shrugged.

"What were you doing there?" she pressed, her politeness turning into a full interrogation. Satoshi stared ahead, seeing the door that led to the theatre. They were almost there. "I know Saehara-san goes to the crime scenes to tag along behind his dad, but what about you? Is you're father in the police force as well?"

"Yes," Satoshi answered. And no, he wanted to add. His father owned the police force.

They had reached the double doors and Risa gratefully pushed them open for him. "Then is that why you were at--,"

"—the museum where Dark is going to strike next!"

The shouted statement surprised them both, and Risa nearly slammed the door into Satoshi, whose attention had immediately been distracted by the familiar vibration in his pocket. "Sorry," she apologized hastily, but he shook his head, already sidetracked.

"No need."

"Harada, Harada! Did you hear?" Ritsuko came bounding up to her, excitement making her cheeks flush and her hair bounce about. She grabbed onto her jacket and tugged, smiling. Risa smiled back, albeit cluelessly. Satoshi eyed them both as he gently set the wings on the ground and slyly reached into his pocket, pulling his phone out only the tiniest bit and flipping the screen open. There was a text message waiting for him.

From Detective Saehara.

"Know what?" Risa asked. Ritsuko squealed.

"About Dark!" She jumped up and down again while Risa, if Satoshi's ears were working right, forced out a laugh.

He pressed a button on his phone and the message he knew was waiting lit up the tiny screen:

Dark left a calling card. He gave us the time and place, but not the object. The theft goes down at 8:30pm at the downtown art museum. I await your orders.

-Det. Saehara.

---------------------------

Risa glanced at Satoshi while Ritsuko called over more of their friends to moon over Dark. And she couldn't blame her; she didn't know that Risa Harada, Dark's number one fan, wasn't number one anymore.

Satoshi was standing a little ways away, immersed with his cell phone again. He was typing something with one hand and pulling out a pen and pad of paper from his back pocket with the other. Risa watched him and felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She had desperately wanted to finish their conversation; it had been going down a direction that had been plaguing her all weekend, and she decided she was ready for the truth.

If the jacket was Satoshi's then that would mean Satoshi was at the museum. And if Satoshi was at the museum and had given her the jacket, then that meant Satoshi had been the one to catch her when she fell. But how could he catch her when she had fallen off of the sixth floor?

Someone grabbed her arm and started saying something into her ear, but she wasn't paying attention. Satoshi had left the room, his cell phone held to his ear as he stared at the ground, his face set in concentration. As polite as she could Risa slipped from her circle of friends and followed him outside.

There were so many mysteries swirling around Satoshi Hiwatari.

And she wanted to know all of them.

--------------------

"Detective Saehara, give me an exact update."

"What you see is what you get, Commander. Dark didn't breathe a word about what it was that he'd be stealing, he just gave us the place and time. I don't know what's going on, and the museum is pretty big. We don't have the men to cover the entire place."

"Yes, we do."

"We do?"

"Three more squads, if my calculations are correct."

"Three more?! Where in the world did we acquire seventy-five more men?"

"I have my sources. Where did he leave the card?"

"The card? Well, usually he leaves it at the artwork, but this time he left it at the entrance, wedged underneath the front doors."

"Dark isn't unconventional with his warnings, only his executions. Something's not right."

"Sir?"

"Prepare two squads. Station one at the entrance and one on the rooftop. Leave the three additional for me to distribute and command personally. I want a surveillance van set up and tapped into the security cameras at the back of the building. Raise the police lines and keep the press twenty-five meters from the perimeter of the museum. Got that?"

"Yes, sir."

"We get into position at a quarter to eight."

"Yes, sir."

---------------------

Risa watched from around the corner as Satoshi flipped his cell phone closed, staring at the floor.

"I wonder…what are you up to now, Dark?" he asked quietly, his face set into a pondering mask. He tucked his cell phone into his pocket and glanced over his shoulder, towards the theatre doors. Risa ducked away out of sight and waited patiently, her heartbeat pounding greatly against her chest. She counted to twenty and then chanced a peek around the corner again. Satoshi was already halfway down the hall, his silent footsteps betraying nothing of his departure. Risa had the strong urge to follow him, but the blood rushing to her head and the nerves set loose into her veins made it hard for her to breathe as it was.

She leaned against the wall instead, her mind reeling.

Satoshi was in close contact with the Azumano Police?!

The conversation she had just listened in on had been one-sided and missing important details, but she had certainly heard him speak Takeshi father, and he was going after Dark tonight! And not only that, but he had known what he was talking about; a trained official. Everyone knew Hiwatari was brilliant, but to command a legion of police officers? That couldn't possible be right! For Satoshi Hiwatari to be--…

Who was Satoshi Hiwatari?

Raise looked down the hallway again but saw that he was already gone, probably leaving school early to prepare for that night.

She thought a moment…

…and glanced toward the theatre…

…and then made her decision.

She hurried on down the hallway as well, zipping up the jacket as she went, because the wind had picked up outside.

Risa had to leave early too then, if she were going to the museum that night as well.

--------------------

"It's done," Emiko announced as she entered the living room. Daisuke and his father looked up from the early dinner they were having, and Daiki peeked his eyes over the top of his newspaper. Towa was no where in sight, having escaped to the backyard on the explanation that she couldn't stand being in the same room as the dreaded statue.

"Did the Detective find it?" Kosuke asked. Emiko nodded and tossed her hat and sunglasses on the sofa, depositing her bag beside them as she beamed at her husband and son.

"And it was done perfectly. They're all confused because I placed the calling card in the entrance instead of with an artwork. They'll be so concentrated on defending every floor of the main museum that the curator's wing will be almost completely exposed," she explained, smiling. But Daisuke was not happy.

"Why did we even have to send a card? This journal is supposed to be a secret and we're not even trying to publicize it. Couldn't Dark and I just have stolen it without warning anyone?"

Emiko gasped, her eyes wide and her face appalled. "Daisuke! How dare you! What kind of Niwa would I be if I did Dark the injustice of shirking on his fame? Phantom Thief Dark is a star to the people, and his stealing is the entertainment! To have him steal with no audience would be blasphemy. And what kind of mother would be if I did not want to flaunt my little boy?" she added, walking over to him with starry eyes as she hugged him tightly. Daisuke sputtered, her embrace too tight and making him drop his chopsticks.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry!"

She let him go and he gasped as Kosuke and Daiki laughed. Dai rubbed his neck and grinned as his mother sauntered about the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee. He thought a moment and then pushed his food away.

"Mom."

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"You never told me how you found out about the journal in the first place? When I came home today we just talked about the plan and then you left. And we haven't even mentioned the horn being gone either."

Emiko set the coffeepot down and reached for the sugar. "The journal, Dai," she began, dropping two sugar cubes into her cup, "was almost by accident while I was looking on information for the statue. The horn, however, is a mystery to all of us." She turned around and leaned against the counter, steaming mug in hand. "One moment it was here and then the next it had vanished." She took a sip. "But that's the least of our worries right now."

"Your mother told us she was going to the market," Kosuke joined in, leaning back in his chair and grinning. "But she was really on a massive search for answers." He cocked an eyebrow at his wife and she shrugged, smiling.

"I'm quicker on my own, is all." She turned back to Daisuke. "I went to the archives--,"

"—you mean broke into the archives," Daiki injected.

"Yes, dad, I broke into the archives and leafed through the files of Hikari based artworks. Nothing even hinted to the Mystic's Dream or a horn called Silence. I started to doubt that we'd find any history to the pieces, but then I thought that perhaps the Hikaris had hidden the history just as they had hidden clues to the artwork in other places. So instead of searching for words relating specifically to the Mystic, I started looking for words and files that were connected to the fairy tale that first tipped me off about the artwork.

"The fairy tale," Daisuke repeated, thinking hard. His mother nodded.

"Yes. The fairy tale…Pygmalion."

-----------------------

Satoshi slammed his door closed and tossed his keys on the side table, throwing his school bag and books spontaneously on the floor and heading for the kitchen, already feeling tired. He had left school early to head towards the downtown museum and set up his own personal traps and equipment before he'd meet with the Detective and his squadrons later that night. Now, so late in the afternoon, he had finally returned home to steal a quick rest, change out of his uniform, and then go back down to the museum to officially prepare for the festivities.

He checked his watch. It was ten past six. He had some time to rest.

Satoshi poured himself a cold glass of water and then swaggered into his living room, thumping down on the sofa and leaned his head back. So tired, and it was still early. The worst of the night was still to come.

He sat up straighter and took a long pull of his glass, his eyes glancing to the coffee table where the tome Daisuke had given him sat untouched all weekend. He hadn't had a chance to look at it yet, and had frankly forgotten it was there.

Setting his glass down, Satoshi pulled the book into his lap and stared at the cover.

Gold emboss, leather bound and yarn sewing into the pages. The book was old, and genuine.

Carefully, he flipped back the cover and leafed gently through the pages, noting the handwritten calligraphy and penmanship. He figured he'd probably siphon through the entire thing but a small paper stuck out a little farther than the rest. Satoshi separated the pages that were marked and found a small paper with a note written to him in Daisuke's hand:

This is the story that my mom found the Mystic's Dream in. I'm not sure what it is or how it relates to it, but that's what she told me. I hope you find what you're looking for!

-D.N.

Satoshi moved aside the note and stared down at the title, his brows furrowing as he read.

"Pygmalion," he said out loud. He stared at it a moment. "This isn't even a fairy tale," he said to no one. "It's a Greek myth." He thumbed through the story briefly, flipping through the pages and scanning the storyline. There was nothing truly special on the surface of it; it was the same old tale of how a sculptor created the most beautiful woman in the world and fell in love with it. He had studied its meaning and creation during his college courses.

Not once was the Mystic's Dream mentioned.

He closed the book and set it down on the table again.

------------------------

"That's not even a fairy tale," Daisuke answered. "Isn't that supposed to be Greek myth or something?"

"Yes." Emiko jumped nimbly onto the kitchen counter, her mug balanced easily in her hand. "Precisely."

Dai stared at her in confusion as his father gathered together their empty dishes. "Wait—huh?"

His mom smiled her ever mischievous smile; the smile that said she knew something that others didn't and the information pleased her. "You'd be surprised, Dai, but most people don't know 'Pygmalion' is a Greek myth and not a fairy tale, let alone what the story is even about. That's why it is so ingenious the way the Hikaris hid their information. Placing a myth amongst many well-known, novelty fairy tales was the most blatant way they could speak about the Mystic. The ugly duckling amongst the swans."

"The first clue," Kosuke clarified, smiling at the raised eyebrow on Dai's face. "Something that is obviously out of place." He passed by his wife and placed the dishes in the sink, nodding to her. "Go ahead."

"So then I had the story," Emiko continued, "but I still didn't know what I was looking for. I had already read 'Pygmalion' so I knew what it was about. There was nothing remotely interesting and new and no mention of artworks other than that of the statue that Pygmalion creates, which does not exist because I checked." She took a sip from her mug. "So I started comparing. I compared our specific book's version of the story as opposed to others, and I found some whose versions were completely different, and others where the wording was exactly the same, as all ancient lore is prone to. But, during my research, I discovered one very important detail about our book."

"What?" Daisuke asked.

His mother smiled. "Spelling errors."

A pregnant pause followed. "Spelling errors?" Daisuke repeated slowly and Emiko nodded. Deep within him Dark was laughing so loud that it hurt his ears.

"Spelling errors, and not consistent ones. They weren't spontaneous errors, but carefully placed ones; ones that still created a word but an irrelevant one."

Kosuke looked up from his dish washing. "An ancient code. The misplaced letter helps find the key. If a note said 'The akt was colled irade', you'd know that those words were wrong. The 'k' would be a 'c', the 'o' would be an 'a' and the 'd' would be a 't'. The resulting codeword, then, is 'cat'."

"Thank you, dear," Emiko agreed, then turned back to Daisuke. "Which is how I broke the code and came up with two words: 'Mystic Dream'. From there all I had to do was poke around and eventually I found the sculpture that accompanied the name." She grinned to herself, proud with her deductive methods. And Dai had to admit, his mom was pretty impressive.

"So that's how you found the journal?" he asked.

"Yes. The same code was used in their old files." She downed the last of her coffee and handed her cup to her husband, giving him a kiss on his cheek for his hard work. Daisuke was staring at the floor, thinking.

"But why 'Pygmalion', mom? Why did the Hikaris use that story?"

Emiko shrugged. "That is the one mystery I do not know," she admitted. "A mystery, I'm afraid, that only the Hikaris can solve." She glanced down at her watch. "Oh no! Look at the time! We've only a few hours left and I haven't picked out an outfit for Dark to where!" She jumped down from the counter and dashed out of the room, scolding herself for her negligence of the Phantom Thief. Dai turned over to his father.

"Do you think the journal will tell us anything about the sculpture?"

Kosuke shrugged. "That I don't know, son. What I do know is that the book contains potent spells and incantations in its front half; the half where we will find a way to properly seal the artwork. Apart from that, we're still lost."

"We'll always be lost," came a low mumbled. Both father and son glanced up to where Towa was hovering in the door to the hallway. She had refused to come into the same room as the statue and had been roaming the entire house aimlessly to avoid it. "We've been lost since the day she was created and we'll be lost till the day she dies. Ever since the beginning we have feared her, and we will go on fearing her for reasons unknown. She is a curse to them all," Towa said, flicking her gaze over to the shrouded statue.

"A curse to who?" Dai prodded. She stared at him and ambled away from the door.

"A curse to the Hikari."

---------------------

Satoshi stood in the surveillance truck with Detective Saehara and three other policemen trained in audio and visual equipment. They tapped and fiddled with dials and keys as screen upon screen displayed every entrance and every room of the downtown museum. Outside two large teams of officers stood at every door, window and ventilation shaft. Police lines encompassed the entire building and separated the officials from the boisterous crowd of news reporters and fans lining the street.

It was 8:12 pm.

"Everything is set, Commander. We've got everything under control."

"Everything?" Satoshi confirmed, stripping off his jacket and tossing it in the corner. Saehara watched him with a furrowed brow but did not question his actions.

"Er—yes, sir. These are the best media technicians in the force," he said proudly, slapping one of the men on the back. The man winced but kept his peace. Satoshi only nodded.

"Good. So that means that if everything goes horribly wrong tonight, you're men will keep their heads and not make things worse?" The door to the truck suddenly opened and a man stepped in, offering a folded police uniform to Satoshi with a bow. Saehara watched as the Commander took it and the man left.

"Um…what? Oh! Uh—yes, sir."

"Excellent." With quiet ease he slipped the navy blue trousers over his own and shrugged on the uniform overcoat, buttoning the brass fasteners with practiced hands. The Detective watched in silence as Commander Hiwatari suited up in a typical officer's uniform.

"Er—sir? What are you doing?"

"I'm going out to the field," he answered, matter-of-factly, removing his glasses and securing the hat on his head.

"Can you see without your glasses?"

"I don't really need them."

"Why are you going on the field dressed like an officer?" Saehara asked, slightly confused. It was strange, how a simple uniform could make this fourteen-year-old boy looked years older. Satoshi just adjusted his cuffs and pushed the door open with his foot, taking a step out.

"I have a radio with me. Contact me only if you need to," he said, and left the truck.

-------------------------

Risa Harada pushed her way through the crowd, nudging onlookers and news reporters aside. Most of their heads were tilted upward, searching the skies for the first glimpse of Dark, but Risa had her sight set on the police tape, where she could ask one of the officers if they knew a man by Hiwatari. If Satoshi's father was there then she'd find him with his father.

"Harada-san!"

Risa looked up and saw Takeshi running towards her, his camera held tightly in his hand. She waved politely and waited for him, attempting a smile as he approached. "Hi, Saehara-kun. Are you here with your dad?"

He nodded vigorously. "Yeah; he's in the surveillance truck in the back, and he never lets me go there. I'm out here with the first squad, guarding the entrances." He cocked an eyebrow at her suggestively and elbowed her gently in the side. "Are you here for your Phantom Thief?" He winked at her and she tried not to groan.

"Actually, no. I was…um…actually here for someone--,"

"Wait a minute," Takeshi interrupted staring down at her attire. "You're not dressed like you're here for Dark."

It was true. Usually, when Risa would seek out the Thief, she would dress up in her cutest outfit and parade around the house fixing her hair and make-up, trying to make herself as beautiful as possible. But tonight was not for Dark, and she had actually dressed in sensible clothes. She wore jean shorts that were easy to move in and one of Riku's plain grey shirts, her hair thrown up in a ponytail and Hiwatari's white jacket to finish the look. She had even borrowed Riku's running shoes.

"You look…you look…so plain," he said. She rolled her eyes and sat into one hip.

"Thank you, Saehara-kun. You're such a lady charmer." She rolled her eyes and glanced around the crowd. "Saehara, could you help me?" she asked. Her classmate shrugged and leaned close to listen better.

"I'll help, if I can. Depends though, if you want to see Dark then we'll have to probably go around back because the front here is way too crowded--,"

"I don't want to see Dark."

Takeshi stopped mid-sentence, staring at her as if she'd just grown two heads. "What?!" he exclaimed. Risa knocked him in the shoulder to shut him up. "Harada-san, are you joking with me? You—you—don't want to see the Phantom Thief Dark? You? You?!"

"Yes, me," she snapped, her hands curling into fists. Her patience was waning thin and she wanted to find Hiwatari's dad before Dark came and chaos ensued. "Saehara-kun listen, you're father is the Detective on Dark's case, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"And since he's the head of the investigation here, I was wondering--,"

"Whoa, hold on," Takeshi said, raising a hand to interrupt her. "He's not the head of investigation."

Risa cocked her head to the side. "He's not?"

"No. He's only second in command; the lap dog to the guy who runs the show." He shrugged and fiddled with his camera. "I used to think he was the one in charge, but he's not. The other officers say that the Chief Commander of Police is a genius straight out of college, and that's he's the son of the man who owns the police force. I, personally, don't see what's so great about him. I mean, he hasn't caught Dark, has he?"

Risa was listening to him avidly, the information somewhat intriguing. "Well, er, could you take me to the Commander then?" she tried. Saehara glared at her.

"Not even if I wanted to," he answered monotonously. "I don't have that kind of access around here, Harada-san." He lowered his voice. "I'm not even supposed to be here; Dad's orders." He rolled his eyes, as if the fact that he was breaking the rules was a mere annoyance. But Risa was getting desperate; time was running out and Dark would be appearing soon.

"Saehara, please. I can't explain right now, but I need to find the Commander now!"

Takeshi sighed and thought a moment, concocting a plan in his head. Risa knew that it wasn't so much him wanting to help her as it was him wanting to do something mischievous.

He tapped his chin, his face screwed up in concentration. "There was a rumor I heard a moment ago from the first squad that the Commander isn't waiting on the sidelines tonight," he suddenly said. "They're saying that he's disguised himself as one of the policemen and he's hidden within the ranks. No one knows why, but it's out of character. He's more of a general-type than a foot soldier, or so I hear." He grinned sideways at Risa. "He shouldn't be so hard to pick out, I'm guessing. The men here are nearly thirty or older, so the Commander has got to stick out as the youngest of the group. Plus he'll be trained differently, so we have to look for someone who's more disciplined and polished than the rest. Easy clues to look for."

Risa raised her eyebrows, smiling. "Wow, I think I'm impressed," she complimented.

Takeshi only shrugged, but the satisfied look on his face was hard to miss.

"I just do what I do best."

----------------------

Daisuke stood in his living room watching the live newscast at the downtown museum as his mom fluttered about getting him prepared for the night. She had donned him in a plain black shirt and trousers only a few sizes larger, seeing as Daisuke was now only a few inches shy of Dark's height. She was helping him slip on a floor-length trench coat when Towa called to them from the front door.

"I can feel the journal, Emiko-san! It's still in its glass case, but there's less security on the lower level than at the entrances and rooftop!"

"Good, Towa. Keep track of it!" Emiko fixed her son's collar and dusted off his shoulder, smiling into his face. "You make us all proud," she told him. "Both of you." She ruffled his hair, kissed him on the cheek and sent him on his way. Daisuke grinned at her and ran off. "Make sure you take care of Towa," Emiko called after him, following him to the front door. "She hasn't been herself lately."

"I will," Dai promised, pulling on Dark's shoes. Towa, in bird form, had perched on his shoulder, her eyes closed as she kept close tabs on the journal. "We'll be back before you know it. Come on, Wiz!"

With a final wave to his mother, Daisuke threw open the front door and leaped out into the night, Wiz appearing as his black wings and carrying both him and Towa up into the sky. Emiko ran to the open doorway to watch them.

"I'll never get tired of that sight," she said to herself, grinning. "I'll never tire of it."

---------------------

As Daisuke Niwa ran out of the living room he left with the confidence that, with the help of Dark, he would retrieve an ancient journal that would help shed light on the Mystic's Dream and it's partner Silence.

He like, like everyone else, thought that the Mystic's Dream had been contained.

But as the tarp began to slip off the extended hand of the statue, the spirits of the other artworks in the house began to quiver and shake, feeling the desire and the passion stir within the Mystic. And as the tip of a tiny, glass finger was gently exposed the world rumbled and the sky trembled as her power grew and pulsed with anticipation. And when the smallest moonbeam slipped through a part in the curtains and fell onto the glistening finger, Towa squeaked on Daisuke's shoulder and Daisuke screamed out in surprised agony as Dark appeared, suddenly and without warning, transforming ten minutes before he said he would.

"Dark, Dark! What's wrong? Why did you transform so early?" Daisuke cried within him as Dark winced and shivered, the transformation being too sudden for even him to endure. "What happened?"

"I don't know," he answered truthfully, feeling suddenly cold and exposed. He glanced at Towa at his shoulder and the tiny bird looked back, her eyes wide, afraid and confused. "I don't know," he repeated.

--------------------------

Emiko was frozen in the doorway to the living room, one hand gripping onto the doorframe as she stared, bright-eyed, at the girl standing in front of her.

Somehow the electricity had gone out in the entire house and the only source of light now came from this ethereal girl, emanating from her body and making her glow in a grayish-blue light. She stood on solid ground but she didn't seem to stand at all; and though she was not moving her hair cascaded here and there and her skirts billowed about her feet. She was beautiful and despairing, and her eyes danced like clear ocean water.

She tilted her head to one side as she met Emiko's gaze, her curiosity strange in a face so blank. Emiko continued to stare, to afraid to move, even when the girl took a step forward, when mist began to pool at her feet, and when she parted her lips…and began to sing…

"Come with me…" she sang, her words weaving a spell of intrigue and beauty. It soothed Emiko's fear and she began to relax. "And you'll be…in a world of pure imagination…"

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