A/N: Just a note to the reviewer Sallywalker…in my summary I say that 'her world will be tainted white', and I do mean tainted, not painted. A taint is considered a contamination or an essence of bad quality, marring something and making it seem undesirable. And white, as widely considered, represents purity and innocence. It was an intentional play on words…to say that something can be made impure by that which is pure…hence 'her world will be tainted white' in relation to the story that Satoshi, who's life and existence is so troubled based on an angel of white, will 'contaminate' Risa's existence. Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. )

'They stood alone on separate ways

Two pillars made of ice and snow

And on into the passing days

They hadn't the heart to stay or go

She was lost, unknown, confused

A rose caught in a devil's snare

He was tired, used, abused

An angel in a monster's lair

Two troubled souls of black and white

Searching for answers they did not know

Yet left in reach of blinding sight

The answer etched in ice and snow…

…But mirror eyes cannot hope to see

Nor fragile hearts to feel

The wind, the rain, the fire, the sea

What is false? What is real?

Angel keys and Mystic lure

A Dream, by moon, unclasp

For her to reach out for the future

And him break free from the past

These pillars melt from wind and flame

These hearts unlock to truth

The rose will bloom and just the same

So shall the angel unroot

Her heart longed to love and be loved in return

And now with her unshadowed sight

Wings shall encase them and she will learn

That he has tainted her world white.'

K.B Mallari

Chapter Fifteen—The Answer Etched In Ice And Snow

Dark was a Phantom Thief. It was what he was famous for. It was what he was good at. Everyone knew who and what he was because he was the best at what he did. But to actually witness Dark in his thieving best was a luxury few got to see and even less truly understood. Despite making it look easy, thieving a Hikari creation was extremely difficult and to watch a master at work was a true treat indeed. And, because Dark was so good, no one was able to watch the master at work.

"You know, I never really paid attention to you when you were doing a job," Daisuke said as Dark slipped noiselessly into the emergency stairwell and typed in a few numbers on the key lock that would render it unusable. "But I have to admit that you're really, really good at this."

Dark smirked to himself and leaned over the railing, staring down at the empty space in the middle of the spiral staircase. "Good to know that you're learning to appreciate the finer things in life, Daisuke," he smirked. "Now, watch and learn."

In one fluid motion Dark had grabbed hold of the railing and cleared it in one leap, falling freely downward through the tunnel of space in the middle of the winding staircase. Floor after floor whizzed by in a blur of grey and Dark let the wind whip past his face, enjoying the freedom of falling. Moments before he hit the ground level, however, he lashed out an arm and closed his fingers around the bottom stair rail, swinging his long legs through the air and landing, catlike, on the other side, back on solid ground.

Inside him Daisuke applauded politely. "Nice," he approved. Dark rolled his eyes.

"Please, Daisuke. I'm brilliant." He hurried down the last few stairs and easily broke the code on the basement door, pushing it open. The underground level was eerily silent compared to the mayhem above and every step Dark took echoed against the stone floor. "Now, sit back and gaze upon my brilliance as I steal this journal and get us the hell out of here."

"The museum staff should be continuing as usual, so the journal should be in the curator's wing," Daisuke said. Dark nodded in response.

"All right then. Let's steer clear of all your best friend's traps and visit the curator."

Daisuke sighed. "Hiwatari isn't--," he started to say, but then stopped.

He hadn't thought about it before, but he supposed Satoshi was his best friend.

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

It wasn't Krad.

Krad came after.

Before it was just her…and her Hikari. The one who taught her what it was to read and write. He had showed her flowers and the names of colors and had let her listen to the music he composed and look at all his paintings and sculptures. When the others of his clan would be out into the world, busy with their lives, he would stay in the grand Hikari mansion with her.

He showed her the difference between fear and bravery and sadness and joy. When she asked a question he would always answer it. The time they spent together became precious to them both…

…because it was always time that was limited to the night, when the moonlight would rise to give her life.

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

Satoshi immediately let go of her hand and stepped back, his face growing warm and his stomach churning with nausea. Risa stood stock still in front of him, her eyes wide and hands buried deep into the sleeves of her jacket.

"Wh—what are you doing here?" he demanded, pushing his voice out past the lump in his throat. The effort made him sound angry.

She pushed her bangs out of her face and let her eyes wander around as she tried to find a reason for her illegal trespassing. "Well, I…um…I was just---I wanted to…." Her cheeks were flushed red and her words came out jumbled. Satoshi sighed. No doubt she had snuck in to see Dark, but had the unfortunate luck to run into him instead of the Phantom Thief. The thought usually made him angry at the fact that people were actually supporting the Thief's stealing, but this time the thought made him angry for a completely different reason.

He turned his back to her and grabbed onto the stair railing, fighting against the rising magic inside his chest.

It made him angry that Risa Harada wanted to see Dark.

Satoshi gasped as Krad jolted violently inside him and he tried his best to remain in control.

"Harada, you have to leave. Now," he said, hoping that she was blind to his inner struggle. Behind him he heard her take a step forward.

"Hiwatari, I'm sorry. I am. It's just that I wanted to…er, well...,"

"I know, okay! You snuck in here because you wanted to see Dark! Well I'm sorry, but this is no place for a lovestruck school girl!" Pain exploded behind his eyes and he gritted his teeth and tensed his muscles to keep from falling forward. Why couldn't she just leave already?

"Hiwatari, the real reason why I came in here is--,"

"Run, run as fast as you can," Krad taunted. Satoshi gripped the railing tighter and broke off Risa's sentence.

"Harada, just get out of here! You're trespassing on my territory! You are out of bounds!"

"Wrath only aids my coming, tamer. You are trapped. Your heart swims in romance while your mind floats in anger. You cannot deny me tonight. Tonight I fly…"

"Hiwatari…." A tiny hand laid itself on his shoulder and the blast of pain that it brought with it made Satoshi scream in a mixture of rage and agony. He spun around and grabbed Risa by her arms, pinning them to her sides.

"Risa," he said, saying her name in breathless anger. "Go."

He released her from his grip and ran away, dashing with unspeakable speed deeper into the museum and as far away from her rosemary scent as he could get.

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

One night she just came out and asked him.

She asked what it meant when she looked forward to seeing him every night. She asked what it meant when having him around made her happy. She asked what it meant when every moment they spent together learning became something she cherished.

And he smiled and explained to her that it was love.

So she said 'I love you.'

And he said 'I love you, too.'

But his 'I love you' was a sad one, and she did not know why.

She did not know the sadness that he felt…

because he had fallen in love with an artwork of his own creation.

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

Dark sifted through the wires in the fuse box and found the green wire he was looking for. He grinned to himself.

"And now…let there be dark." He tugged gently on the wire, just enough so that it popped out of place and the entire curator's wing was plunged into darkness. The Phantom Thief slammed the fuse box closed as cries of panic emitted from the staff in the wing and the rustle of scurrying feet made the floor rumble. "Ah, the beauty of chaos," Dark murmured, peering around the door to the curator's hall. His acclimated vision sought out the panicking figures of the museum staff scurrying around in attempts to either fix the lights or seek out a remedy.

Dark slipped easily into the hall, sliding past scurrying secretaries and nervous art historians without so much as a brush of wind. His eyes, so completely accustomed to the dark, gazed sharply into each office as he passed: secretaries' desks, shelves of files, a room of chemicals and tools and storage space. It wasn't until he had reached the very end of the hall did he find what he was looking for: a fully equipped lab with five vases, two sculptures and three books sitting on the table in the middle of the room. Dark smiled and stepped in.

"You know, I could have just stolen this book right out of its casing. I am the Phantom Thief after all," he said to Daisuke, approaching the three books on the table.

"Not this time, Dark," Daisuke answered as Dark lifted the first two books in the pile. He smiled at the third one. It was the journal. "The circumstances are different. At least, that's what Mom and Grandpa said."

"How so?" Dark questioned, picking up the journal and sifting through the pages. It was a weighty tome with stiff parchment pages that crackled threateningly as he disturbed each one.

"This time we don't want to run unto Hiwatari."

Dark wrinkled his nose and snapped the book shut. "Who ever said I choose to run into the Commander?"

In his mind Dark could hear Daisuke sigh. "The only other thing you like more than stealing in the limelight is rubbing it in Hiwatari's face. You enjoy getting away with thieving right under his nose; so much so that you will get as close as you can to getting caught before slipping away." Dark started an indignant protest but Daisuke cut him off. "Mom didn't want us running into Hiwatari at all tonight, so we're doing this the old fashioned way."

"All right, all right! I get the picture; you don't have to lecture me. Doesn't explain the calling card though."

"Mom said she didn't want to steal all the limelight away."

"I'm so grateful." Dark rolled his eyes and tucked the book under his arm as he sauntered towards the door, his visage in no hurry at all. "I wonder where the infamous Commander is anyway…"

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

Satoshi stumbled into the showroom where the journal was usually kept and collapsed onto the wall. He growled and slammed his fist into the wall, thin cracks appearing in the cement under the impact. Inside him the storm turned and thundered, banging against his brain and coiling around his heart. He could feel his blood get too hot and explode in his chest. He opened his eyes and already his vision had changed. His skull was burning and he shook his head to get the sensation off of him. Blonde locks tossed about in front of his vision. His shoulder blades were aching.

With an almighty cry Satoshi dropped to his knees as the transformation completed itself. Wings exploded from his back, his hair lengthened and every bone in his body screamed in agony as they reformed themselves into Krad, the horrid fallen angel.

Such was the intensity of this transformation, for it had been triggered by both hatred, anger and, horrifying as it was, romantic feelings. It distracted both Satoshi and Krad so much that neither saw the mist creep into the room through the cracks in the floor, the vents in the ceiling and the entryways. They didn't notice the chill that overcame the room nor hear the haunting hum of a song echo against the acoustics.

Krad straightened to his feet, shaking out his arms and flexing his wings. He felt odd and looked down at his clothes. The uniform Satoshi had been wearing was only slightly bigger than he was, so it fit Krad perfectly. But the stiffness of the trousers made him frown and the white shirt hung oddly on him, now that it was ripped in the back.

He rolled his eyes.

Couldn't his tamer learn to wear sensible clothes to a crime scene?

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

She was reborn through her mist.

She had found him. Found the light that she cherished. Found the heart that she loved.

She could sense him in the building.

He was somewhere. Close. Close enough for her to find and to touch.

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

Dark had his prize. The precious journal was in his hands, in his possession. He had come and stolen what he needed. The job was done. Hiwatari wasn't in sight.

And yet…

"Do you feel that, Daisuke?" he asked, standing in the lab, feet apart, journal tucked under one arm and his head turned up, listening, searching….

"Yeah, I…I do," he answered, his confusion seeping into Dark's own wonder. "It feels…it feels like—Towa! It's the same feeling I get when Towa's trying to find me!"

"That's because it is Towa," Dark answered lowly. "That's her magic, but it's not being used by her."

"Is someone copying it?"

"No one can copy The Eternal Guide's powers; not that accurately, anyway." The Phantom Thief heard one of the museum workers scream and bump into the door of the lab. Dark shifted out of the way, just in case someone chose to barge in. "Someone stole her powers."

"Stole?"

"I think…I think she's here, Dai." He said it with a grin, half of him feeling frightful while the other half relished in the adrenaline the fear offered. "The Mystic's Dream, she's here."

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

Over the ground, through the cracks in the door, amongst the building. She traveled in her mist-form, like water, like fog, like air, sifting through, towards her Hikari.

Joy, it filled her. Happiness, it fueled her. Desire, it pushed her.

Soon, very soon.

She would live…

…live with his heart in her hands.

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

Krad tugged at the collar of his shirt, it's constriction annoying him. He flexed his wings and caught sight of a blinking light out of the corner of his eye, smiling when he saw it pulse red.

"Oh, tamer," he said tauntingly, smiling cynically. "How bright you are."

The urge to fight overwhelmed him, the scent of Dark lingering in the air, calling him to an angelic brawl, his favorite kind. The Phantom Thief was in the building, and not too far away. Most likely he already had the journal.

Krad turned with every intention to go and find his rival, but he stopped short, his eyes on the floor. He was standing on the basement level, the floor covered in glowing onyx tiles. It reflected the podiums capped with glass cases, the ancient tomes and parchment scrolls mirrored in the floor, their images distorted like ghostly replicas. The basement floor was less like a museum and more like an ancient wizards study, each page and scroll stamped across with intricate artworks depicting magic and sorcery in the best of ways.

But it wasn't the artwork that had caught his attention.

It was the mist dripping from the vents in the ceiling, pooling together in the center of the room, swirling together to create a form. A very, very familiar form.

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

Risa really did want to leave, now, at least. She had every intention to turn and barge out the front door of the museum, irregardless of the amount of trouble she'd get in with the police. She had actually started to climb the steps to leave.

But then she felt it, the same ethereal pull that had ebbed its way into her mind nights before…on a balcony somewhere…at a time she couldn't remember…

She stopped, turned, her face screwed up in confusion. She heard music. Someone was singing. Someone with a voice like spring water, like autumn wind, like winter snow, like summer grain. Someone who smelled like a forest brook, or fresh rain, or the aroma of a newly opened blossom.

She took a step back down, her curiosity tingling.

But wait…

Risa shook her head, trying to block out the song. Satoshi had wanted her to go. He had commanded her, yelled for her to leave. She was trespassing, after all. This wasn't her place to be. She didn't belong there. Satoshi did…

But she didn't.

She took the step upward again.

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

Thin, shapely legs; a gently curved torso; long, fluid arms; sloping, delicate shoulders; a swan-like neck; a perfect face; hair like a waterfall…. Krad watched every part of The Mystic's Dream manifest before him, watching as she reassembled herself. He took half a step back, the world around him changing under her presence. What sounded like a choir of voices hung in the thinnest blanket over his ears, the dark onyx of the level illuminating to pearl colors of pink and blue. He thought of wind chimes and the tinkling sound they could make. He smelled rain. He drew out a memory from long ago.

"You're afraid, Hikari," he said to himself, keeping his tone unnaturally low and calm. "I can feel you inside of me, resisting her, denying her." He smiled, but the cynicism it usually held didn't reach his eyes. "You needn't be such a coward, you know. I was able to escape once, but that's only because I chose too. Now, I choose to stay. Relax, it'll be fun."

Despite his mocking reassurances, Krad cast a sideways glance to the red light pulsing in the wall, flicking his eyes around to find three more scattered around the basement level. Thank goodness, the paranoid little Commander had gone overboard. It was a good thing, this time, at least.

He heard her breathe and brought his eyes to rest on her once more. There she stood—or floated, was more like—in her 'human' form, all ethereal beauty. Krad remembered the first time they met decades ago, the first time he had seen her bathed in the moonlight, her lashes dotted with moonbeams.

Fear.

It had gripped him then and it gripped him now.

"Well, well, well," he said, his voice unbelievably steady. He didn't run away, but he wanted to. The great Krad wanted to run away. Instead he slipped his hands into his pockets and stared at her. "The Mystic's Dream."

She hovered just off the floor, her toes barely skimming the shining tiles. The mist seemed to spill from the very fabric she was wearing, slipping from her skirts and pooling on the floor. Her hair rippled around her frame. Her eyes shone like crystals. She was staring at him.

"I've found you," she whispered, every word caring a melody. "You, the White Angel. Krad." She said his name airily; not sensually, intimately. Like the note of a song. It made him more afraid than anything else. "I've been looking for you."

"As I've noticed." He shrugged at her, flexing his wings. Her eyes followed the movement. "And, as I said before, I knew you'd find him again." She met his gaze, questioning, like an animal's. "Satoshi Hikari, you've found him."

"Beautiful," she said, ignoring him. She took a step forward on her platform of air. He flinched, recovered, and felt shame for faltering. "You are beautiful, just as I remember. I remember, from that night…so long ago." She took another step. "Do you remember?"

He swallowed. "Yes. I remember that night very well." He said it coldly.

The Mystic smiled and closed her eyes, her hands clasped over her heart. Or, at least, where her heart would have been. "A night of wonderful and horrible things. I live off that night. I survive off that night." She opened her eyes and her smile melted away. Her face was nothing but gorgeous fear. "But I cannot live off that night any longer." Another step. "My existence is withering away."

"How unfortunate," Krad replied, watching her as she came closer. He lifted his chin defiantly. "I sympathize. I, myself, dread the end of my own existence." She was in front of him now. Directly in front of him. Her face was only inches away, her hair starting to swirl in tendrils around him. He eyed the strands with a narrowed glare, watching in a predator's calm as they wrapped languidly around his arms before falling away in their faux wind.

She tilted her head to the side. "You're not the same as I remember you," she breathed. "You are different."

"How did you find us again, I wonder?" Krad asked, his eyes looking everywhere but into her own. "The tamer was paranoid tonight. He set up precautions for himself, all in celebration of you. It's odd, that you were still able to find him."

She smiled, her eyes crinkled, she covered her mouth and giggled quietly behind her hand. A childlike motion that she made look beautiful. "I have changed myself, too. I sought the help from one who none can hide from."

Krad's gaze flew to her own and he stared right into her dancing pupils, the world around him dimming in light of their wonder. But he knew, far in the back of his mind, that she was as unsubstantial as he was, and it kept him sane.

"Towa no Shirube. The Eternal Guide." He frowned. "You borrowed her powers."

"Stole," she corrected, reaching up to touch his face. For some reason, he let her. "I do not intend to give them back, so I stole them. That is what he taught me. That is what he told me stealing was."

Fear. Again. Stronger now…

…because she was suddenly looking at him differently. Suddenly she was looking at him with desire; looking at him with hunger.

Fear. It gripped him. His resolve was leaving.

He grabbed her hand and pushed away, her cool touch leaving his skin. He had never thought he would be so besotted with a touch. Besotted? No. Frightened. He stepped back.

"Don't look at me that way," he said coldly. "You reserve that for your precious Hikari, and him alone. I was not included in anything."

The Mystic's Dream wasn't listening but reached forward again, her delicate hands framing his face. Her hair and her mist danced around him, like objects in water. She stared into his eyes.

"I'll always look at you this way."

The world stopped.

All other sounds disappeared.

Time closed.

Colors faded.

All Krad could see…hear…feel…was the Mystic, floating before him, a beautiful being, her eyes dancing, her mouth opened wide as the most haunting, piercing note rattled the air around them, escaping her lips in a breathtaking sound.

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

"Dark, do something about these people!"

"Right."

A flick of the wrist, a feather in a wind, and suddenly all the screaming workers, art historians, archeologists, professors and doctors in the wing went silent and limp, dropping down to the ground without another sound. Dark raced over them, nimbly jumping clear of their sleeping forms as he made his way back towards the main center of the basement level, to where the exhibit was actually displayed.

"Daisuke, look."

A wall of mist blocked their path, caging them in the curator's wing. Dark approached its shifting surface slowly, eyeing the mass with a mixture of curiosity and caution. From the mist he could hear, even feel, the song of the Mystic, one, prominent note elevating above the background din of her magic.

"Is it safe?" Daisuke asked. Dark shrugged, tucking the journal securely into the front of his vest and extending both arms outward, a daring grin on his face.

"Only one way to find out." He stepped forward and the minute his fingers touched the mist he was sucked in, pulled into the thick of it in only the span of a breath. It was like being underwater, but he could still breathe; like flying in an atmosphere that was too thick. Dark tried to touch his feet to the floor or move his arms to propel him forward, but it was too difficult. The mist was so thick that it would take the strength of twenty of him just to walk normally.

"See what happens when you just dive head first into things?" Daisuke scolded. "Now we're stuck."

"We're not stuck," Dark snapped back. "This will just take us a while." He grunted and put all his weight into his legs, trying to move them in a walk. After several, agonizing minutes, his right foot had moved only three inches. Damn it, we are stuck, Dark thought morbidly to himself. In his head Daisuke growled.

"I heard that," he grumbled. "And I told you so."

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

Risa squeezed her eyes shut and stepped in, hoping that it wouldn't sting.

It didn't.

When she had seen the mist covering the entryway to the exhibit she had almost turned tail and ran…like she was supposed to do. The softness of it all, and enthralling music beyond, made her bite down on her tongue and step in, testing it on chance alone.

It was like passing through water, only she didn't get wet and it wasn't cold. She was floating in it, her hair floating about her head. She looked down at her hands and kicked her feet. It let her move so freely, so openly, like yards of gossamer that just kept gliding along her limbs.

What was this beautiful magic?

"I loved a man of stone, but he left me all alone in the shadows of all my sorrow and all of my pain."

Risa whirled around through the mist, looking frantically around. The song, the voice, it had sounded just over her shoulder, so close that it rang in her ears. But there was no one there, only the mists.

She squinted through the prismatic colors and saw the other side, where the exhibit lay just beyond the barrier. With a fluid ease she half-floated, half-walked her way towards it, swiping at the watery substance with her arms. In only a few, ghostly seconds she had made it across, the empty air visible through only a thin sheen of the mist. She reached out a hand and felt it pass through to the other side, extending out into empty space. It almost felt naked as it pushed through the sheen.

Carefully, and almost reluctantly, Risa stepped out of the mist, landing onto the tile floor with breath of fresh air, like breaking the surface after swimming under water. She blinked and looked back. The mist stayed, looking no more or no less enchanting. But here, on the other side, the music was so much louder.

"And the love that I love, I will love in vain."

Everywhere she stepped there was the smoky whiteness of fog hovering over the ground, all of it spilling from somewhere deep within the exhibit.

She walked quietly, trying not to disturb the fog as much. She was in the small, narrowed entry of the bottom floor, maybe only a few meters long before it opened up to the main room. Whatever was happening in there was beyond her vision, but she knew her curiosity would make her cross those few meters.

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

The Mystic's Dream. The epitome of beauty. Staring into his face. She was close enough, hovering over him, that her breath was his breath, her eyes were his eyes, everything she was he was too.

Fear. It consumed him.

"I love you."

She closed her eyes, her fingers barely caressing his face, and kissed him.

So sweetly.

So lightly.

She kissed him.

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

Within a turmoil had risen in response to the kiss. A long ago emotion, a resident of Krad's memory, silenced for generations. It swirled below his skin, a manifestation of Dante's circle, a hellish wind blowing in his chest. Among the chaos he felt himself leaving, exiting his being, falling away.

Did he fight it?

No. Of course not.

Who would dare to fight?

He could feel her fingers in his hair; feel her garments brushing against his limbs, feel her breath on his skin.

He was cold, that's what they called him.

He was cruel, that's how they described him.

He was ruthless and horrid and sinister.

He was evil.

But Dark was of the same cloth, and Dark longed for love.

As for Krad…

He reached up and held onto her wrist, his touch much too gentle to be recognized as his own…

Not even shadows can live without the light.

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

It was a breathtaking kiss.

Literally.

She tasted pure and fresh, her hair forever curling around him. She was delicate, even with her head bent down to his. She felt too small, her wrist like porcelain in his grasp. And she was kissing him like she was kissing the man she loved. And it was eating away at his power.

He could feel his magic escape him through their shared kiss, feel his wings suddenly disappear as they were absorbed into her essence. He felt the strength leave his muscles and the breath leave his lungs, but still he didn't break away. His eyes were squeezed shut, almost painfully so.

Did it make him weak, to relish in something as obscure as a kiss?

Yes, it did. And, as a result, it was draining him.

When he couldn't take it anymore, when it became a strain to hold on to his form, he broke the kiss, cried out, and dissolved into a flurry of white feathers, his powers stripped away from him.

Not stolen.

Just stripped.

It was Satoshi now who was left with the fatigue, his knees buckling under him dramatically. His back hit the tiling with a dull thud, his shoulders aching at the contact. Somewhere inside of him he could feel Krad withering up, almost too minute to find. He wasn't gone, he was just weak.

With a groan he opened his eyes, letting them adjust properly to seeing without his glasses. He never really knew why he insisted on wearing them when they would just break or get lost during his transformations.

The feel of gossamer brushed over his arms and his vision cleared into the face of The Mystic.

The first time he, as Satoshi Hiwatari, had looked at her, face to face.

She looked so happy. Her eyes were twinkling, she was smiling, her skin glowed with her moonlit magic. She was perfect, her high cheekbones and fragile jaw line sculpted to deflect any possible flaws. She was kneeling next to him, her tiny frame bent over his face, her shoulders shaking in excitement.

The hypnotism that she possessed began to take over, the mere sight of her entrancing. This was the danger the Hikari's had feared, that only one look and you'd be her slave, devoted only to her, loyal only to her, desiring only of her.

"There you are," she said, passing a hand over his eyes. She titled her head innocently to the side. "With eyes…like water." She drew in a deep breath—and began to sing.

"Come with me and we'll steal through the night,

Leave your world behind as you part from the light.

In my dreams,

Somewhere in my dreams,

You'll stay in my dreams.

You'll never return…."

He was short of breath, nervous at her closeness, but he couldn't move. She leaned in close, right to his ear, her open palm now placed over his chest, right above his heart.

"Take my hand, close your eyes, hold your breath

My song, my voice, embrace the sound of death.

In my dreams,

You'll stay in my dreams.

You'll die in my dreams.

You'll never return--…"

He could feel a weight on him now, right above his heart. He winced as it grew heavier, pressing against his lungs, making it hard to breathe. He coughed and tried to sit up. But there she was again, in his line of vision. She had lifted her head, gripped his eyes with her own.

She was losing her hold on him…his desire was curbing away from her, and she knew it. But how? From what little he had known from his Hikari ancestors no one was ever able to deny The Mystic's Dream. How was it that she wasn't as shining now, or as luminescent?

Then he realized why.

Like a slap in the face, her image exploding in his mind's eyes with magnificent clarity.

Risa Harada.

He saw her as he had seen her in the cherry blossom orchard, her school uniform slightly rumpled from falling down, the blossom held in her hands.

Just thinking of her broke through the magic The Mystic was using, and her alluring song seemed nothing more than ordinary music in the background. He raised his hands, which seemed to weigh a thousand pounds each, and grabbed her shoulders, trying to push her away. She was surprised, her gasp echoing around him against the acoustics, and he felt a horrible tugging sensation in his chest that hurt when she moved.

He winced and looked down.

Her hand, her ghostly, mystic hand was inside his chest, immersed to the wrist, with her fingers clutched around his heart.

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

Risa screamed.

She was standing in the main exhibit room where displays of ancient texts filled the area. Her ankles had vanished beneath the blanket of fog and her white jacket glowed in the strange, blue light that had overtaken everything. When she found the source of the fog she squinted past the light, surprised by how blinding it could be despite its soft glow.

That was when she saw them. There was Satoshi sitting on the floor, his glasses were gone and he looked pale and tired, his hair in strings around his face. He was shaking, she could tell that much, and his face was twisted in pain. He was staring, flabbergasted, at the most beautiful girl kneeling beside him, with hair that spilled down her shoulders and onto the tiles, and eyes that glowed like sapphires or diamonds. Everything in the room, the mist, the light, even the song seemed to emanate from her, although she wasn't even singing. Risa was caught by how utterly gorgeous she was.

Then her eyes saw the beautiful woman's arm, how it was extended towards Satoshi, and where her hand had reached right into his chest, translucent to the wrist.

Her cry, horrified by what she saw, caught both their attentions. Satoshi looked at her whether in shock or anger she didn't know, but the woman looked at her with a calm surprise, strands of hair floating and lingering in the air when she turned her head. She met her gaze and Risa realized that her eyes weren't like sapphires or diamonds at all, but like twisting pools of water when the noon light caught the waves.

"What are you doing?" Risa demanded. She was suddenly running towards them, tears filling her eyes for reasons she didn't understand. She never stopped looking at the girl. "Stop it! You're hurting him!"

She skidded on the tiles and dove for the woman, her hands clamping down on her forearm.

"Risa, no!" Satoshi tried to scream, to warn her, but his voice was feeble and she wasn't listening.

"Let him go!" Risa tugged on the woman's arm and, because she was so surprised at such a bold move, the beautiful woman let herself be pulled away, her hand materializing as it left Satoshi. He gasped as he was released, gasped like someone was extracting a knife. Risa dropped the girl's arm immediately, her concern for Satoshi choking her. The Mystic floated to her feet and stepped away, staring at Risa incredulously.

"A maiden…?"

"Satoshi! Satoshi, are you all right?" She grabbed his face in her hands, looking right into his eyes. They were dazed and glassy, his brow dotted with sweat. He blinked multiple times; he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Harada, what are you still doing here?" He tried to say it with authority to show his anger that she hadn't listened to him and left, but he knew the relief in his voice betrayed him. Truthfully, he was grateful for her lack of obeying. Her presence alone brought him a cool comfort. Risa looked down at his chest, her hands probing his shirt, trying to see if there was any damage.

"Are you hurt? Are you bleeding? What was that?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm fine." He grabbed her wrist to stop her hysterics. "She…she was trying to take my heart."

Risa gasped. "What?!"

He gulped down a mouthful of air and looked up and over her shoulder. Risa turned around to see what he was staring at, her eyes landing on the beautiful girl floating behind, her face still wonderfully surprised.

Satoshi's grip on Risa's wrist tightened slightly. "The Mystic's Dream, Risa." She turned back to him. "A living artwork."

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

Something was happening in the exhibit, something dangerous and controversial and exciting.

And Dark was still stuck. The mist seemed to thicken even more as he tried to fight his way through it, its density closing in on his body. It was becoming harder to breathe and harder to move, every muscle in his body screaming in their forced motion.

It was resisting him completely, and he was missing out on the excitement beyond the mist.

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

She was angry.

"Hikari!" Her voice split the air like a siren, shaking the entire museum. Risa and Satoshi clamped their hands over their ears, the sound nauseating. "Hikari. You're heart is mine and no one else's!" Her eyes filled with tears and they fell to the ground as crystal, smashing when they hit the floor. "I've waited so long."

She closed her eyes and raised her hands above her head, lifting her chin, her elegant neck exposed. She opened her mouth in another lingering, piercing note, but this time mist spilled from her lips as well, different from the light fog swirling in her wake. It was dark and murky, spilling to the ground like tar. The tiles it touched were suddenly thrown years into the future, aging them until they faded and cracked and nearly turned to dust.

Risa cried out and jumped to her feet, grabbing Satoshi's arm and hauling him to his. They both backed away from the seeping mist, staring as it aged the room they were in.

"All the years…"

Satoshi felt his back press against something and realized they had reached the wall. There was nowhere else to go, and the black mist was surrounding them, closing in on their feet. Risa pressed herself against the cold cement of the wall, trying in vain to meld into its granite face. Satoshi turned away from her and squeezed his eyes shut, burrowing deep inside himself to search for the monster within.

"Krad," he called silently, his pride bruising even as he spoke. "Krad, I need you. You have to come out, now." Silence met his request, broken only by the Mystic's song. He curled his fingers into fists. "Krad! I need you! Now!"The mist was creeping closer. "KRAD!"

A feeble whisper, barely a voice, finally answered back. "Even if I wanted to, hideous tamer, I could not come out no matter how you called my name. I have been weakened." Satoshi's eyes flew open, unbelieving. "Not even our hatred for one another could beckon me now."

"Well what can?!"

Risa jumped and looked at him sharply. He hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud.

"I need more than simple hatred," Krad whispered. "I need something powerful. So don't expect any help from me. You haven't any feelings nearly powerful enough."

"Satoshi! The mist!"

It was only a foot or so away, The Mystic rising before them, her light growing brighter, her song growing louder. They were running out of time, and they had to escape. But he needed Krad to escape. He needed Krad to escape.

"Satoshi!"

Heart pounding rapidly, Satoshi whirled around, slamming his open palm into the wall. Do what you have to do, he thought to himself. Use what you have to use. It doesn't matter if it kills you. Save Risa.

"Nunc lento sonitu dicunt Morieris! Now, this bell tolling softly for another, says to me…Thou must die!"

The red lights that he had planted in every wall, on every floor of the building, blazed a vibrant crimson in response before each one exploded in a blast of garnet light. Each glare, shining through every window, left behind a glowing Lunar Crest imprinted on the walls, the intricate designs visible on each one.

The Mystic's Dream screamed, no longer musically but hideously, as four Crests suddenly appeared on the walls surrounding her, their red light opposing her own. She covered her face with her arms and curled into herself, drawing her mist and hair around her to shield herself from the magic. The images of the Crests burned themselves into her skin, red lines and curves appearing on her arms and legs, scalding her. She went on screaming, her black fog rising up from the floor and creating a whirlwind around her. She cowered in her cocoon of light and air, the Lunar Crests pulling relentlessly at her moonlight.

"It isn't fair," she wailed. "I waited for so long! It is not my time yet!"

Satoshi turned around, the wind snatching at his hair and tearing at his clothes. Beside him Risa was fighting against the Mystic's tornado, her jacket flapping mercilessly around her small frame and her hair threatening to pull from its band. She was so scared. She looked so scared.

"Hikari!"

The wind picked up, the Mystic grew angrier, and time continued to run out.

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

Dark felt a blast of wind explode from the exhibit and seep into his cage of mist, the impact still potent enough to slam painfully into him. It stole his groan and left him with the ringing linger of a scream, the sound, thankfully, only fleeting.

"What was that?" Daisuke panicked. Dark gritted his teeth.

"Something's happening in there! It's the Mystic, something's happening to her and she is not happy. We need to get out!" He flexed his biceps and tried to swing his arm forward and, to his surprise, felt it cut through the mist easier than before. There was still resistance, but it had lessened considerably. He stared down at his arm, wide-eyed. "She's getting weak," he said quietly. He flicked his gaze to the other side of the mist barrier, the lightening flashes of blue and, now, red, taunting him from beyond. "Daisuke, I can break us out of here."

"You can?"

"Yes, I can. But I'm going to need wings." The tendons in Dark's neck flexed. Guilt began to mound heavily on his conscious.

"But Wiz isn't here," Daisuke pointed out simply. The Phantom Thief clenched his jaw as he already prepared to block his mind against Daisuke's voice.

"I know," he answered back. "And I'm sorry."

With a single effort that lasted no longer than a millisecond, Dark drew out his magic harbored deep inside, pulling it out with a powerful cry and jutting it through his shoulder blades, conjuring two, massive black wings from his own accord. The mist around him shattered into a thousand glass pieces as the wings erupted through the barrier, the cosmic appearance of the feathered beasts manifesting to the music of Daisuke's agonized wails.

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

Fear. It overwhelmed her.

When she had come to the museum she had thought to uncover the mystery that was Satoshi Hiwatari, to delve into his unknown. To understand him. She did not know she would come to find herself in the presence of a goddess, her rage escalating and her powers beyond imagination. It scared her worse than any nightwalker. It frightened her more than any midnight shadow. And yet it fascinated her to the brink of insanity.

Satoshi Hiwatari lived in such a fantastic world.

The mist that spun in front of them clawed at Risa's face, biting into her skin like a blizzard wind. A sound like nails on a chalkboard or a dying animal ripped at her ears. She was closing her eyes against the mythical tirade and wanted nothing but for the goddess to stop.

"Satoshi, what do we do?!"

His response, his immediate and unwavering response, happened in an instant, giving no time for either of them to think. She turned her face towards him and just barely opened her eyes, seeing him standing there and staring down at her, fatigue pushed viciously out of the way to be replaced with brittle determination. He opened his mouth and shouted only two words.

"I'm sorry!"

Risa had barely heard him before she felt him grab her wrists and pull her towards him, his mouth crashing down onto hers.

It was nothing like any of the 'kisses' they had shared before. This time they were both fully aware of what was going on.

It was an explosion of heat and hormones, focused into one, ravishing kiss. Risa couldn't even think, even breathe. The danger they were in, the living artwork in all her miserable glory seemed to evaporate. Everything was Satoshi. His lips claiming hers, his arms scrabbling up her arms and cradling her head, his height looming down on her, arching her backwards. She was surprised and, to be truthful, incredibly scared. He was so much stronger than her and frightening when he was angry; even if she had wanted to stop him there was little she could have done.

But she didn't want him to stop.

She liked it.

Despite everything else she liked it, her mind liked it, and, fires burn her, her body liked it.

Before she knew it she was grabbing onto him as well, her hands tangling in his hair and trying to get him closer than he already was. It wasn't a romantic, simple kiss exchanged between two shy individuals in a novel on a shelf, but a fiery exchange of tangled emotions that was anything but simple and shy. There was fear and anger and passion and desperation and spontaneity. She felt his hands trace down her back and nearly lift her off her feet. Her senses were acutely aware of where his shoulder was and his chest and his knee. And her brain was acutely aware that it was Satoshi Hiwatari who was kissing her and that she was kissing in return.

Satoshi Hiwatari.

Satoshi Hiwatari…

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

He hadn't expected to like it so much.

He had kissed her in his desperation to draw out the monster and save them from The Mystic, but he hadn't expected to like it. A lot.

She was so petite and fragile, nearly half a head shorter than he was, and he nearly had to bend in half just to reach her. But it was worth it. Like the rosemary scent she wore, Risa Harada's kiss was sweet and sinful, stirring feelings that Satoshi was hardly familiar with. This was the difference that he hadn't felt when he looked at the Mystic. This was the reason her face had broken the spell. He could feel her fingers in his hair and it made him both enraged and helpless: enraged that her touch sparked new life into him and helpless at the thought of his vulnerability once she stopped.

From the minute their lips touched Krad had responded within him, his power fueling at such a rapid state than ever before. Already the pain was beyond unbearable and he was close to being rendered unconscious, but the surprise of Risa's kiss made him fight like Hell against the wave of suffering, if only to make their moment last longer.

He drew Risa up in his arms and lifted her off the ground, trying to physically cling on to her for as long as he could manage.

Who was this person that he had become? How was it that Risa made him act so…so…irrationally?

With a small little hum Risa let her full weight fall into his arms and she pulled her fingers from his scalp, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself into his chest.

"There…this is power!"

The moment had finally reached its farthest level of intimacy and, with an almost audible crack, Satoshi felt his resolve break and Krad erupt right through him. He pulled his mouth away from Risa's and screamed, clutching onto her as he dropped to her knees. Risa called out his name, but it was too late.

He was already gone.

She was left with only Krad now.