Sapphire Artemis: Well, I've been long overdue to edit this damned monster. Take out some stuff, add some stuff, leave a lot of stuff the same, etc. I also want to say that I am not going to follow fanfictiondotnet's rule about not replying to reviews in the author's notes. It's complete and total bullshit, and this is my story, so I shall do whatever I like in it. Enjoy!

Note: Luke has woken up. A longer explanation is on my profile. I thank all of you who stuck with me through this. It means a lot to me.

Warning: This story will have yaoi (that means guy on guy action), language, violence, and it probably will have rape–mental and physical. If any of this squicks you, please leave.

Thanks to: Les Scribbles–especially for helping me write Krad!–for betaing!

Hiwatari Satoshi despised the daytime.

It was not a childish hatred of day for the fact that he had to go to school; or that daytime is when most work is done; or that daytime is the time in one's life where most problems occur. Nothing about Satoshi was childish. The day was loathed by him for a different reason: the light.

He hated the light. It bore into his very soul, piercing him through like the twin golden orbs that the sun was so reminiscent of. The rays of sunlight that were flung from the giant star were so like the golden-yellow strands of hair that hung around the face of his own personal angel. The wind in the daytime was different than the wind at night; while the wind at night spoke of foreboding, the wind in the daytime carried peacefulness, and Satoshi did not like peace. It was something he rarely had; something he was not used to. It was the thing he only felt in dreams; and even then, there were few dreams that he had that were not invaded by the bane of his life.

He did not understand why, after 14 years of careful mental preparations to make his mind a safe haven for himself, to have at least a small corner of his consciousness that was not assaulted by Him; that after all those years, his gingerly built wall could crumble so easily. It was like a building worker slaving away for many years on a building, making sure everything was perfect, and then, when it is finally finished, it is demolished by someone else who has purchased the right to knock it down and build something new, of their own design and desires, in its place.

But Krad had not purchased the right. He was the thief in the night that stole the rights, the one who barged in without thinking, the one who stole everything.

And yet, he was trying to catch the thief. The thief trying to catch the thief.

Satoshi knew that Krad would never compare himself to Dark, the Phantom Thief. He would recoil at the very thought; and spend at least ten minutes detailing why he and Dark were so different. There was the appearance, he would first remind his Host, going over very thoroughly their different looks.

Then, there was the personality thing. Krad scoffed at the fact that Dark cared so much for his Host and listened to the Tamer when things were going badly for Krad–though in Daisuke's mind, it was always Satoshi–in a fight. Dark was not as possessive as the fallen angel was–Krad always somehow seemed to make this fact a negative point rather than a positive. And, of course, Krad was more "aristocratic", "refined", and "sophisticated" than the "useless", "uncultured", "fashion-impaired" thief.

The blunette often idly thought that Krad was very British.

Satoshi had several more reasons he himself could give, but chose not to. He knew that inside, Krad and Dark were really as different as night and day.

Or, the Commander thought, running a hand through his hair, at least night and twilight.


"Dark! He's coming for the Pen of Aristotle! Men, take your positions!" Chief Saehera shouted. The various police officers scattered, forming a barrier around the place where the precious work of art was kept. The Chief turned his head over to Satoshi, who was busy writing in his notebook, as usual. "Commander? What is your plan of action?" Satoshi put his pencil and notebook away in the pocket of his school uniform, and gazed into the Chief's eyes. "Keep the officers around this sector. I will stay inside the building alone. I wish to analyze some of Dark's fighting moves, so that we may perhaps devise a counterattack of our own next time. If I fail in this, I have a trap set. Go outside with the rest of the men, Chief Saehera. Dark will be captured tonight."

All this said with no emotion–save the last sentence, which was spoken with a kind of icy determination. The Chief nodded and walked outside, shaking his head once he was out the doors. How a teenager the same age as his own hyperactive son could be so cold was beyond him. But Satoshi was higher in command. He had no choice but to obey him.

He was just glad that he was out of the building. A nagging voice told him that he did not want to see what was going to occur.


"Is that really the best you have, Commander?" Dark sneered, overthrowing yet another guard. "I'm disappointed." He continued, bypassing another alarm.

In reality, it was rather difficult. But this was all part of the game. Dark would, seemingly effortlessly, get past all of Satoshi barriers, taunting the Commander all the while. It would, he was sure, annoy Satoshi, which would make it easier for Krad to come out. Then Dark and Krad would fight, Daisuke would interfere, both would come out alive, Dark would escape with the art. It was the same thing. Same cycle.

But Dark wanted something more. He wanted an excuse.

An excuse to kill Satoshi.

He was not ignorant like Daisuke. He saw, every time that they saw Satoshi, that the azure-haired genius control was slipping. He wanted to destroy that threat. He did not want to die. He did not want Daisuke to die either. He wanted Krad to die. And that meant killing his Host.

Was he selfish? Daisuke had believed him when he had said that he did not want to kill Satoshi. But in reality, he did. Was he selfish? Did he really care about Daisuke? Or did he just want to remain in the realm of the living for a while longer?

He was no fool. He knew that there was always the possibility that Daisuke would not produce an heir. That would mean no Niwa for him to come back to in forty years or so. That would mean eternal oblivion. He wanted to stay in Daisuke's world for a while longer.

He wanted...he wanted...he wanted.

What did Daisuke want?

Did it matter?

Dark had always thought of himself as, well...better than Krad. But now, looking at himself, he realised...

'Dark? Dark? DARK!'

'What!' he snapped.

Rather taken aback, Daisuke muttered, 'We're here.'

Oh. Yes. He wanted to be here. He wanted to walk through the ornate doors that would lead to the room that held his quarry. He wanted to initiate the pattern again. However, he also wanted to try a new tactic in the cycle of cops and robbers. A tactic that was...slightly more his style. More effective as well–that is, if you judged it by the number of women who had fallen for him over the years.

He wanted to do all of these things.

Did Daisuke?

Gah. He was going to lose too much sleep over this..


"Hello, Commander." Dark said smoothly, seeing the pale skin glowing faintly in the shadows. Satoshi walked out, twirling a pair of handcuffs on his finger. This rather nonchalant attitude was something that the young commander was not used to. But he would need to have it if his own plan was to come to fruition.

"Hello, Dark," Satoshi replied just as smoothly. "Having a pleasant evening?"

"Very." Dark smirked, coming closer. He was now face-to-face with the Commander. Almost idly, he reached out and began toying with Satoshi hair.

Satoshi felt a chill run down his spine. What was Dark up to? He had never ventured to touch him so...brazenly. The only other time he had been touched by Dark had been when the thief had saved him from falling and when he had dressed as a woman.

Dark grinned inwardly, seeing that his new tactic was working. He had long suspected that Satoshi harboured feelings for Daisuke. This would surely get Satoshi to transform, giving Dark another opportunity to kill Krad...or Satoshi. True, he was not in Daisuke's form right now, but who knew...maybe Satoshi's imagination that so often ran rampant with ways to trap the Phantom Thief could come up with some image...

'DARK!' came Daisuke's panicked voice. Dark winced. He had not been able to keep all of his thoughts hidden. Luckily, Daisuke had not heard the part about killing Satoshi...he had most definitely, however, heard the last part. 'What are youdoing!'

'Feeding your imagination, Dai-chan!' he grinned, moving his hand down to trail along Satoshi jawbone. 'You know you've thought about it...'


Ignoring his host now, Dark carefully studied Satoshi's eyes. His touch was having the effect he thought it would: besides being wide with shock, the deep blue irises were flickering golden.

Meanwhile, Satoshi was having some thoughts of his own. He knew that it was Dark. He knew that he was being stupid. He knew

((I know))

that if he allowed himself to feel like this;

((one day these emotions))

if he didn't get his cold Hikari mask back up right away, that one day–perhaps not so far in the future–his rampant, disobedient emotions would

((will be my))

be his downfall.


He snapped out of his reverie. 'What do you want, Krad?'

'Do you not see what he is doing to you? Get CONTROL of yourself and let me FREE!'


Satoshi felt Krad power tearing up his insides. He fought for control, stumbling back from Dark. The thief smirked, stepping back. His job was done.



'Why did you do that? He transforming now!'

'Daisuke, mind games are the way to go with creepy bastard. You don't want to admit it, but he is losing control every day. We NEED to get rid of him!' Not the best way to open Daisuke up to his plan, and he knew that he probably should have waited a bit longer; longer so that when Daisuke finally realised exactly what was going on, he wouldn't be able to stop it.


'Daisuke, we have to! I know it hurts; I've gone through this before with other Hosts! Believe me, they were all better off for it! They forgot it within a few weeks, a few months at the most. I don't want to have to keep control of your body by force. It will be easier if you just allow me to–'

'Dark, no! We can't! He's my friend!' Daisuke cried desperately. An old plea, he knew; but it had always worked before...but now, there was something strange going on with Dark, something wrong--'Please!'

Dark fell silent as he fought with himself over what to do. He had known this next step may be needed, but it still pained him in ways he could not describe. He thought over what to do, steadied himself, ignored the voice in his head that said

((you really are no better than Krad nope definitely not better at all no better than Krad no better than))

something unwanted. His voice when he spoke was quiet and resigned. 'Then I will have to defeat him by force, Daisuke. Whether you like it or not.'



As though watching from afar, Satoshi felt Krad take control of his arms and legs. He felt the sharp pain as the wings tore out of his shoulder-blades, splitting skin and dripping blood. His hair elongated and became blonde, with the ever-present crucifix on the end. His eyes narrowed, turning into Krad's slitted golden dragon ones. He stood up, by no will of his own.

And for once, he did not try to fight.

He was still thinking back over Dark actions. He knew–he had known, all along, that Dark was simply toying with him.

So why did it feel

Strange? Disturbing? Nice? What was the precise adjective he was searching for here? He did not know. Maybe it was a combination of all those. Maybe his obsession with Dark went slightly beyond cops and robbers. Maybe it went deeper, down into the depths of his heart that even he had not yet dared to explore. If not that, why did he keep pursuing him? Was it his bloodline? Was it a born impulse deep in his psyche that was passed down through generations?

No, he thought. Just because I am a Hikari, and carry the Hikari Curse, does not imply that I must explicitly copy the actions of my ancestors. I am my own person. I am my own body. I am me.

"You are not Satoshi Hikari are Satoshi Hiwatari."

I know I am...

In name.

But if I am Hiwatari in name and Hikari by blood, what am I...



Krad's internal cry of pain snapped Satoshi back to the present. He dragged his attention to the outside, feeling Krad being slammed into the wall, and could have sworn that he heard a few bones crack.

"What's the matter, Krad?" Dark hissed, leaning in and grasping the angel by the throat. "Giving up too easily? Lost your fighting touch? Or is your Host revolting? Can't you control a simple teenager?"

Krad growled, and kicked up at the Thief, striking him in the kneecap. Dark, caught off-guard, fell back. Krad leapt up and shot a fireball at him. The Phantom Thief barely managed to dodge, and the fireball grazed his shoulder, ripping the clothes. Dark jumped back and turned, leaping out the window. "With! To me!" Dark shouted. The rabbit creature appeared from nowhere and attached to the Thief's back, transforming into his trademark black wings. Dark hovered on an updraft, grinning inside at his counterpart. "Come and get me, Krad!"

The angel narrowed his eyes and flew upwards, exiting the room through the window and going after the Phantom Thief.

'Krad, what exactly are you doing?' Satoshi asked in a calm voice that belied his heart's frantic racing. As in every fight with Dark, his mind asked him that one irrevocable question: "What if you can't regain control in time?" And, just like every other time he asked himself that question, he also told himself the answer.

"Daisuke would die".

The angel answer was terse as he concentrated on flapping and thinking up fighting strategies. 'I am fighting Dark, Satoshi-sama. What does it appear that I am doing?'

'I have told you not to kill him, though. You recall that, correct?'

Krad snarled slightly, swiveling his head. 'Yes, yes, I do recall.'

Satoshi tilted his mental head, carefully bringing up mental barriers and thinking. Something did not seem right about Krad tonight. He seemed pre-occupied, like Satoshi when something from his past came up. But it was very difficult to even perturb Krad, let alone haunt or pre-occupy him.

What could it be?

Being knocked into a tree jarred Satoshi from his thoughts. Dark had come down from the sky like a bullet and rammed the angel into a particularly sturdy oak. Krad shook it off and rose again.

But something was wrong.

Krad seemed to be favouring his left wing. Satoshi knew instantly what had happened. The angel had forgotten to spread his wings when Dark dive-bombed him, thus crushing one underneath him. This gave Satoshi even more reason to believe that something was out of the ordinary. Normally, Krad would never have fallen for such a cheap trick. Maybe...but no. The angel wouldn't have told him about it anyway. He was always careful not to reveal anything that could be a potential weakness for him.

But he already had a weakness.

And that was Satoshi himself.

Dark had noticed the handicap in Krad's wing. Grinning, he swooped up for another dive-bomb. Krad struggled to move aside, but the wing was forcing him in a lopsided circle.

'Damn it!'

'Do something!' Satoshi yelled. Krad almost smirked. Did he hear fear in the Hikari's mental voice? Impossible, he knew. Satoshi would never reveal anything that could be a potential weakness for him. But he did need to do something...

Maybe I will, Satoshi-sama...maybe I will.

Dark dove. Krad tried to move, but the muscles and tendons in the wing were failing. All he could do was hover, like a giant fly trapped by the smell of rotting meat.


Then, Krad did the only thing he could think of doing at the moment. He did not trust the Niwa to stop Dark; for all he knew, the redhead was egging him on. Satoshi would be no help, not while he was in this form.

He was, however, sure of one thing.

Krad glanced quickly down to the ground. It was about fifty feet down. He cursed again, folded the wings, and changed back.


'Dark! He-he-he changed! He's not–oh my God, Dark! Hiwatari-kun doesn't have wings!' Daisuke's panicked mental voice struck the Thief.

Dark almost laughed, then decided not to. He hovered in mid-air, eyes closed, praying in a mental voice that Daisuke could not hear, praying that the redhead would forgive him–

'Dark, what are you WAITING FOR! Go and GET HIM!'

The burst of energy was so strong that Dark found himself streaking down, against his will. He streamlined his body, reached out, and grabbed Satoshi's hand.

The genius found himself being gently flown to land.

The instant they were close enough, Satoshi pulled his hand free of Dark's and landed on the ground. At that very moment–and for many moments to come–he thanked his lucky stars that he did not blush.

A low chuckle from Krad. 'I knew it would work.'

Satoshi cleared his throat. 'I shall kill you, Krad. Slow, painfully, and with very much torture.'

The angel just laughed.

Dark grinned. Satoshi scowled angrily. 'Krad, you know that now I am indebted to him, right?'

Krad pondered. 'Oh, yes. That slipped my mind. Oh well. All you have to do is listen to him once, correct?'

Satoshi pushed away the uncomfortable feeling that this behaviour was uncharacteristic for the fallen angel, and pondered silently before answering, 'I...believe so...'

'Exactly. So what are you getting all worked up about?'

'I hesitate to even think what Dark Mousy will ask of me in the next few weeks, Krad. I hesitate to even think.'



Satoshi visibly winced as the loud voice pierced the schoolyard. Only his sheer politeness kept him from running, screaming, across the yard, over to the lake, and jumping in. In fact, what scared him was the fact that he was seriously considering doing it. Hell, maybe he'd whack himself over the head with a tree branch for good measure.

Instead, he turned around.

Daisuke–of course, who else would dare to call him "Hiwatari-kun"?–came running up. He stopped and flashed a grin at the young detective.

Satoshi didn't smile back. "What is it, Niwa-kun?"

Feeling rather taken aback, Daisuke realised that he didn't quite know the answer to that question. "Um...I don't know...I just wanted to talk?"

Pushing away the smile that was slightly tugging at his lips, Satoshi looked away. "If it nothing important, you should not risk yourself to be around me. Krad is sleeping right now, but he may wake up at any moment. I would advise you stay away." He said in his normal monotone. Then, he turned and walked away.

Leaving Daisuke standing there wondering, did I do something wrong?

'Of course not, Dai-chan. He just mad because now he indebted to me; which means, in a basic term, that he is also indebted to you.' Dark replied cheerily. He realised that he had been relying a bit too much on Daisuke's willing-to-forgive nature when he had been attempting to carry out his plan the previous night. He knew that the redhead would, naturally, forgive him and carry no hard feelings–but it still felt good to have it confirmed.

'What exactly do you mean by that, Dark?'

The Thief sighed. 'Simply put, I–which means you–saved his life yesterday, much as he hates to admit it. Thus, he must do whatever I, or you, tell him to do. But it only works once, meaning that he will only obey our orders once. Not again, unless Krad does something so idiotically stupid like that stunt he pulled...'


Dark feigned shock. 'Daisuke Niwa, don't even think that! Or, if you're going to, think handcuffs...he'd never stay chained down any other–'

'DARK!' Daisuke mentally yelled, blushing furiously at Dark's comment. In fact, what scared him was the fact that he was seriously considering doing it. He pushed the snickering Dark out of his mind when the bell rang and ran to his classroom, one thought creeping in his brain and occupying the space that Dark had left. A thought he kept hidden from the Thief. A thought that had generated last night...

I'll forgive you, Dark...but I will never forget. (1)



The man–if he could be called that–frowned at the card in concentration. He spoke aloud, a habit formed through years of solitude and the need to hear a voice in the darkness. "The thirteenth card. The card of death."

He smiled grimly, reciting its meanings to a person–or a thing–that only his dead, rheumy eyes could see. "Absolute endings and absolute beginnings. Out with the old and in with the new." He caressed the card with vein-laced fingers covered by paper-thin, pale skin, gazing at and past the image of a shadowed angel tracing the face of a young woman. "Stagnation; loss of friendship; fear and dread..."


It had been four hundred years since he had last drawn this card.

It looked like It was about to happen again.

(1): This actually came from somewhere...maybe a fanfic, though I don't remember what it was called. I'm pretty sure that I didn't make it up, because it felt like I had heard it somewhere else before I wrote it down. If it came from your fic, or you know where it came from, just holler.

Hm. More change than I thought. And I'm bringing tarot into this? ((shrugs)) Don't ask me where I'm going with this. I'll figure it out eventually.