Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Satoshi had worked out a speech, by now.

“No, thank you,” he said, gently returning the letter to the girl in front of him. “I am flattered by your interest, but I’m afraid I simply don’t have time for things like dating.”

The girl in question - Aiko Takaya, notable to him only because her answers in class were usually fairly intelligent and he was relatively certain she was on some sort of sports team with the elder Harada twin - looked mildly disappointed, but she didn’t seem terribly surprised by his answer. That was natural, considering his history. Part of him wondered why anyone still bothered to ask.

“I guess I should have expected you to say that,” she said, sure enough. Then a hint of something mischievous flickered across her face and she added, almost teasingly, “Especially since, from what I’ve heard, you gave Minami-san that exact speech when you turned her down last month.”

Satoshi merely shrugged. It was true - he had given that speech to everyone who asked him out for months, now. Perhaps she expected him to be embarrassed at having been caught out at it, but Satoshi frankly didn’t see why he should be. There was nothing he needed to tell Takaya that was different from what he had needed to tell Minami and the others. Why alter the phrasing just for variety?

At first he hadn’t had any sort of speech at all, simply turned down girls with a curt “I’m not interested,” or “I don’t have time for this,” or simply “No.” But lately, Daisuke had chided him for that, suggesting that he ought to be kinder in such situations.

“I know you don’t mean to, Hiwatari-kun,” he had said, his eyes wide and earnest in a way that Satoshi found dangerously persuasive. “But you really hurt some of their feelings. Even if you can’t say yes, you could try being nicer about it.”

And so Satoshi was trying. He had formulated a rote speech that, he hoped, was tactful and as close to truthful as he could get without coming out and saying “I’m terribly sorry, but I can’t run the risk of dating anyone when it might allow my homicidal alter-ego to gain control of my body and wreak havoc, and even if that weren’t the case, I happen to be head-over-heels in love with my predestined mortal enemy.”

Takaya couldn’t possibly read between any of those lines, of course, but there was still something uncomfortably knowing in her eyes as she answered his silence with a resigned nod. “Well,” she said. “I guess… that’s it. Thank you for… your honesty, Hiwatari-kun.”

Satoshi nodded back, not knowing what else to say. Situations like this made him exceedingly uncomfortable, and despite his frequent experience with them, he was only just beginning to navigate them with anything remotely approaching competence. Faced by any sort of emotional display, his instinct was still to freeze up and shut down.

Takaya turned to go, and Satoshi was just starting to relax slightly at the thought of the awkward encounter being over, when she turned back suddenly and hovered in front of him, a hesitant expression written on her face.

“Hiwatari-kun…”

What now? Surely they had said everything that needed to be? Satoshi forced back his rush of impatience, and did his best to keep his expression calm as she spoke.

“Hiwatari-kun,” Takaya repeated, her expression even more hesitant than before. “People… say things about you and Niwa-kun.”

Satoshi froze.

“… Yes?” he said, as coldly as he could manage. Any resolution to be nice to her had abruptly vanished in the face of the sudden, consuming panic gnawing at his chest.

It wasn’t that he had been totally unaware of the gossip, of course. He had heard the things his classmates would whisper sometimes, those foolish giggling girls whenever he and Niwa appeared to be in a moment of intimacy. But then, his classmates whispered and giggled over many people. He hadn’t given too much weight to it, convinced that it was simply fleeting teenage chatter.

For Takaya to bring it up like this, though, the rumors would have to be much more widespread - and taken far more seriously - than he had realized. And that was potentially dangerous.

“It’s just… ” Takaya seemed to falter, as though embarrassed by her own words. “Well, the two of you are obviously close, and… um… people wonder… well, some people do, anyway-”

“Niwa has a girlfriend,” Satoshi cut her off, hoping to end the interminable babbling before it went any further.

Takaya’s eyes widened at the interruption, but after a moment she seemed to collect her bearings. “I know,” she said steadily. “… And you don’t. You never have.”

“And?”

“And, I just wanted to say that…” Takaya swallowed. “Well, if it was like that… you’d probably save yourself a lot of trouble by telling people. We wouldn’t judge you- at least, most of us wouldn’t. I just… I thought maybe you needed to hear that,” she finished, mumbling a little.

Satoshi stared at her, mind whirling with a dozen different reactions. Some part of him knew she meant well, meant to be supportive, but it didn’t change the feeling that his privacy had been violated somehow - that she had dragged into the open something that should have stayed well hidden.

“I didn’t,” he said coolly, and then walked off before she could say another word.

Chapter Text

Days later, Satoshi still found himself thinking about the encounter.

It was unsettling. He had always liked to think that he kept his emotions firmly under control, at least staying outwardly impassive despite whatever turmoil might be going on within. People tended to label him as cold and unapproachable, sometimes going so far as to wonder if he had emotions at all, and he liked it that way. In his experience, laying your true emotions bare to the world meant leaving yourself dangerously vulnerable.

To know that people had seen past his facade, then - seen feelings he had meant to keep safely suppressed - was unnerving. He was angry, and while it was tempting to direct the feeling at Takaya or his classmates for invading his privacy, he knew that the person he truly blamed most was himself. He could not afford lapses like that - not with Krad always at the edges of his mind, waiting to take control, and not with his father’s sharp eyes perpetually watching. 

His conversation with Takaya stayed with him for other reasons as well, though, and he found himself thinking back on what she’d said: “If it was like that… you’d probably save yourself a lot of trouble by telling people.”

He was not at all sure she was right about that, honestly. He might save himself the trouble of girls thinking they had a chance, but he knew enough about the world to know that he could easily bring on an entirely different world of trouble. While Takaya’s optimism was sweet, he was fairly certain she overestimated just how accepting the rest of the class was. Not all of the whispers he’d heard were lighthearted giggles - some of them had a nasty edge, even a cruel one, and he was not eager to see how that nastiness might escalate if rumor were replaced with solid confirmation.

Still, he was surprised that the idea had never occurred to him before at all. Perhaps it was because he was still unused to thinking about his sexuality in those terms. He had spent his life trying not to care about anyone, romantically or otherwise, and at first he had simply been frustrated - and rather alarmed - to realize he was capable of such feelings at all. The fact that those feelings were directed toward Daisuke, the boy he had been raised to think of as his greatest enemy, just complicated the situation all the more. 

At the time, that had seemed far more significant than the genders of anyone involved, or the implications thereof. He hadn’t been thinking of things in terms of ‘I’m gay,’ or ‘I’m straight,’ but simply ‘I can’t be feeling this way.’

Over time, he had been able to mull over it more, considering the applicability of various labels. But it still felt like a rather tertiary concern for someone who didn’t expect to have any kind of romantic life, or even a real future.

Nevertheless… it was a part of him. And he was surprised to realize that there was something appealing in the idea of having it out in the open. Not to the whole class - the idea of making his personal feelings public in that way was abhorrent to him, besides the numerous reasons it was a bad idea. If he was honest, there was really only one person he wanted to tell. And it was startling, too, to realize there was no reason he couldn’t do it if he wanted to. His feelings for Daisuke needed to stay a secret at all costs, even - and especially - from Daisuke himself, but there was no particular reason his sexual orientation needed to.

He wasn’t sure how his friend would take such a confession, but Daisuke was so good-hearted that Satoshi couldn’t imagine him being a genuine bigot. He would be surprised, most likely, but it would hardly be the first or last time he was struck off-balance by something Satoshi said to him.

The more Satoshi thought about it, the more he found himself wanting to tell Daisuke the truth. 

 “... And Takaya-san is pretty nice, you know,” Daisuke was saying. “She and Riku-san are friends, so I know her a bit, and you could really do a lot worse-”

It had been nearly two weeks since Satoshi first contemplated the idea of confiding in Daisuke, and he still hadn’t found an opportunity to do it. After wavering for a while, weighing pros and cons and second-guessing himself more than he liked to admit, he had pretty much resolved to go ahead with it. Finding a chance to bring it up, however, was another matter entirely. Truthfully, he had very little idea how to even begin approaching such a conversation.

Now, though, Daisuke seemed to have brought up the topic for him. Satoshi still wasn’t fully convinced that what he was about to say wasn’t a terrible mistake, but if he let the moment pass he wasn’t sure he’d ever muster the nerve again, and-

“I don’t like girls,” he blurted out, before he had the chance to think better of it.

Daisuke, unfazed at the interruption, merely rolled his eyes at this. “Do you like anyone?”

I like you, was dangerously close to the tip of his tongue, but Satoshi wasn’t quite reckless enough to say it, even if he tried to pass it off as a weird joke.

“Sometimes,” he said instead, shortly. “But not girls.”

Daisuke frowned. “Listen, Hiwatari-kun - I know you like to pretend you’re some big misanthrope and you don’t care about anyone, but that’s no reason to be sexist.”

Satoshi closed his eyes.

He knew Daisuke was intelligent, that was the thing. He had seen him disable state-of-the-art security systems and hack into multi-encrypted databases in a matter of minutes. He had also seen him pierce through to the truth of a situation, with the kind of keen emotional intelligence Satoshi himself couldn’t begin to approach, often leaving would-be enemies utterly disarmed.

It was important for Satoshi to remind himself of these things at moments like this, when he found himself wondering how he had fallen in love with the biggest idiot on the planet.

“Not ‘I don’t like girls’ in the misogynist sense, Niwa,” he said, with as much patience as he could muster. “In the… homosexual one.”

“Oh.” 

Daisuke had suddenly gone very, very red, though Satoshi wasn’t sure how to interpret the reaction. Was he embarrassed by the very idea? Uncomfortable with it? Or simply flustered by his earlier misunderstanding?

The fact that Daisuke seemed to have lost the ability for further speech didn’t make such interpretations easier, and Satoshi felt a painful stab of uncertainty go through him.

“Does it… bother you?” he asked, hating himself for how small his voice sounded.

“No!!!” Daisuke seemed to shake himself out of whatever daze he’d been in, waving his hands vigorously in denial. “No, of course not! I just- I guess I’m surprised, that’s all. But it makes sense, really - you never did seem interested in any of those girls. You never really seemed interested in boys, either, though,” he added, thoughtfully.

“I’m not usually interested in anyone,” Satoshi agreed.

Daisuke glanced at him sideways, and- yes, there was the piercing intelligence, the emotional perceptiveness Satoshi found at once impressive and discomfiting. “But you are sometimes,” he said.

Satoshi had a sinking feeling where this line of questioning might lead, but he couldn’t see any way to deny Daisuke’s statement, not in light of everything he’d just confessed.

“… Yes,” was all he said, bracing himself for what might come next.

Sure enough, Daisuke’s lips parted in a question, but then he seemed to think better of it. His eyes scanned Satoshi’s face, and perhaps whatever he saw there gave him pause, because he closed his mouth again and dropped his gaze. 

When he looked back up again, Daisuke’s eyes were clear. “Thank you for telling me, Hiwatari-kun,” he said earnestly. “I... I know you don’t usually talk about stuff like that.”

Satoshi made a noise of agreement. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, um…” Daisuke swallowed. “Why tell me this now?”

There were many answers to that, some that Satoshi didn’t quite know how to put into words. He was a person who valued truth but by necessity lived a life of secrecy, keeping most of himself hidden from the people around him. And when it came to his relationship with Daisuke, sometimes it felt like there was nothing but barrier after barrier between them - an endless blockade of tacit rules and ugly history and unspoken fears that he could never seem to break through, despite the aching desire to be close.

Now, he had removed one barrier. Perhaps it wouldn’t make much difference in the end. But he felt lighter for it, all the same.

“Friends tell each other things,” he said. “Don’t they?”

The way Daisuke beamed in response made his heart flip over.

Chapter Text

Satoshi was impossibly handsome when he laughed.

It wasn’t that Daisuke hadn’t noticed his looks when they first met. Even at thirteen, Satoshi had been a strikingly pretty boy, and that combined with his obvious intelligence and maturity had easily drawn the attention of his classmates. But he had also seemed about as soft and approachable as a block of concrete, and that had made Daisuke want to keep his distance.

It wasn’t until they began spending more time together, when the first tentative tendrils of a friendship began to grow, that Daisuke began to see a change. Teasing little smirks, at first, but with a warmth behind them that seemed to belie the boys’ supposed enmity. Then tiny, hesitant quirks of the lips, barely visible if you weren’t looking closely. There would be a shy earnestness in his eyes at those moments, so utterly different from the cool and confident facade he usually wore that it made something warm and protective flutter in Daisuke’s chest. He felt as though each of those tiny, hesitant smiles was a gift he’d been given, something Satoshi trusted to him and no one else, and he held each one close to him.

But still, Satoshi never really smiled. Not fully. Not as months and months went by, even as the boys seemed to be growing closer in so many other ways. It was as though Satoshi could never truly let his guard down, never let himself totally relax in the moment. There was always a barrier between them, a certain tenseness in Satoshi’s shoulders that never quite went away.

A typically blunt question began the conversation which changed that.

“Will you remember me when I’m gone?”

Daisuke looked up, alarmed by the question. Though they spent hours together each week, researching ways to end the curse, it was rare for Satoshi to discuss his own impending death. It weighed heavily on both of their minds, Daisuke knew, the ticking clock always ominously above them, but he had assumed Satoshi preferred not to dwell on something so depressing.

He wasn’t bothered by Satoshi bringing it up now - might even have welcomed it - but it disturbed him to hear Satoshi refer to his death as a foregone conclusion. As though he’d given up all hope that they could change anything.

“What kind of question is that?” he asked, fear making his voice sharper than he’d meant it to be.

“I’m not asking whether you’ll literally forget.” Satoshi’s face, when Daisuke looked at him, was drawn and pale, and the dark circles under his eyes seemed deeper than ever. “But I’ve spent my life trying to cut myself off from everyone around me, and now… I keep thinking about dying with no one who truly knows me. No one to remember me as anything but a boy who was cold and lifeless long before he went into his coffin.”

Satoshi’s voice was utterly flat and monotone, and Daisuke felt his alarm grow.

“I wouldn’t think of you that way,” he said vehemently. “But it doesn’t matter, because we’re going to save you. You’re going to live a long and happy life, and there will be lots of people who know you. You have to believe that, Hiwatari-kun!”

Satoshi shrugged, looking more exhausted than ever. “Maybe,” he said listlessly. “But maybe not, Niwa. We might not be able to change anything, not in time. I have to be prepared for the possibility that I might not have much longer left. You have to be prepared for it, too. You need to accept-”

“I will not accept that!” Daisuke interrupted, dangerously close to yelling. He grabbed Satoshi’s wrist and shook him, trying to snap him out of whatever deathly lethargy seemed to have taken over him. “I won’t just sit back and plan for what I’ll do when I lose you, because I won’t let that happen!”

“But-”

Daisuke’s fingers tightened around his friend’s wrist, and when their eyes met, something seemed to change.

“I won’t let anything take you away from me, Satoshi,” he said.

Satoshi’s eyes widened, and a hush fell between them, Daisuke’s words seeming to still ring in the air. Impossibly, Satoshi’s cheeks seemed to turn slightly pink.

“You have to believe me,” Daisuke said softly.

The blush deepened, and then, to Daisuke’s utter shock, Satoshi actually smiled. A real, genuine smile that spread across his face and seemed to light up his wan features.

“I- I do,” he stammered, and his voice was tinged with something close to awe.

It was another several months later that Daisuke found himself back at the art museum. It was in the daytime, for once, and he was there not as a thief but just as another visitor. Free to admire the beauty around him with no ulterior motive.

He walked through the familiar galleries, a sense of wonder filling him at the skill and artistry displayed on those walls. Yet he couldn’t escape a shadow of uneasiness too, and an increasingly-familiar stab of guilt as he walked past an empty space or hastily-replaced display. Is this really the person I want to be?

“Planning your next heist?”

Daisuke jumped at the unexpected voice behind him, but he could feel a smile spread across his face even before he’d fully turned around. It was strange - he could remember a time when a comment like that from Satoshi would have sent him into a complete freakout. Yet somehow, it had become almost an inside joke between them, comfortable banter and nothing more.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he teased.

Satoshi gave a flicker of a smile - those seemed to come more frequently these days - and slid his hands into his pockets. “I’ll figure you out, Niwa,” he said easily. “I’ve got my eye on you.”

The two boys fell naturally in step beside each other, walking together through the high-domed galleries.

“Planning to follow me around the museum all day, huh?”

“Naturally. How else can I undermine your dastardly criminal schemes?”

Daisuke laughed, but that feeling of uneasy guilt was back, settling uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. Satoshi never confronted him about his thefts, never brought it up at all in a way that wasn’t snarky or teasing. But Daisuke couldn’t help wondering what Satoshi truly thought of him for it. Most of the things he stole were made by Satoshi’s own family, after all - some, no doubt, rightfully belonged to Satoshi himself. How could a part of him not think less of Daisuke for it?

“I never wanted this,” he blurted out suddenly, turning to look up at his friend. “Being a thief.”

Satoshi just looked at him thoughtfully, blue eyes calm and appraising behind his glasses. “No,” he said. “You didn’t, did you?”

“I just-” Daisuke swallowed. “I wasn’t given a choice.”

There was no judgment in Satoshi’s gaze, but Daisuke still found it uncomfortably piercing. “But aren’t you the one who says that we always have a choice?” he said slowly. “That we can always try to change things?”

“I guess you’re right.” Daisuke had never thought of it that way, exactly, but he found his thoughts rearranging themselves around the idea.

“We are not our ancestors, Daisuke,” Satoshi said, his eyes now fixed on a painting high above their heads. “I like to think we have a chance not to repeat their mistakes.”

“I’m not so sure who I want to be,” Daisuke admitted. “But I do know that… I want to help bring something beautiful to the world. Not just be someone who takes and takes and takes.”

He stared at the painting in front of him, a scene of a harbor at sunset. The setting sun reflected off the water, making the whole canvas into a blaze of golden light, and looking at it made Daisuke catch his breath. There was magic to art like that, he thought, which had nothing to do with the supernatural.

“I’d like to do something like that,” he said, gesturing at it. “… Not that I could ever paint like that,” he added ruefully.

“No one is born being able to paint like that,” Satoshi said pointedly.

Daisuke gave him a wry glance. “You were.”

But Satoshi shook his head. “I was born with… technical ability, nothing more. Real art is about more than that. The most perfect technique in the world means nothing if your art has no emotion, no heart. You can learn technique - yours isn’t bad, and it can get better. But you can’t learn to have the soul of an artist.”

Daisuke hoped the heat in his face wasn’t visible, but he didn’t think the chances of it were high. “And you think that I…”

“You do.”

They spent several hours more in the museum, conversation flowing easily between them. Daisuke was amazed, listening to his comments, at the breadth of Satoshi’s knowledge about art, but the other boy brushed him off when he said as much.

“I was trained for this, just as you were trained in your family’s traditions,” he said dismissively. “I was studying art before I was even old enough to talk.”

“It’s still impressive, though.” Daisuke thought again of what Satoshi had said about choices. Thought of Satoshi’s child self, barely more than a baby, bent over art books he couldn’t properly understand yet. And of his own childhood, learning to pick locks and navigate death traps for a purpose he was never told. Neither of them had ever really been given a choice, had they?

Maybe they had a chance to change that, now.

“I suppose.” Satoshi shrugged. “Most of the time, I found it rather boring.”

“You think art is boring?” It certainly hadn’t seemed that way, in the hours they’d spent talking together.

“Not art…” he frowned, seeming to mull it over. “The Hikari perspective on art, perhaps. It’s as though my ancestors were obsessed with creativity, and yet they were the most narrow and rigid people you could possibly imagine.”

Daisuke nodded. That certainly fit with what he knew about the Hikari family and their history. It occurred to him that most people probably thought of Satoshi as narrow and rigid, too, and yet when he looked at the boy beside him, Daisuke thought he couldn’t be further from it.

“Do you even like Hikari art?” Satoshi asked suddenly, turning to him. “Would you have wanted to go after it, if it was your choice?”

“Are you asking if your family’s art is…” Daisuke had to repress a disbelieving laugh. It was so utterly Satoshi to just come out and ask something like that. “... To my taste, as a thief?”

Satoshi looked amused. “I’m curious, that’s all.”

Daisuke tilted his head to the side, taking the time to consider the question properly. “They’re certainly beautiful,” he said, after a moment. “And… powerful. And there’s something… entrancing about them, too. I can understand why my ancestors were so obsessed with them. But a lot of them are unsettling, in a way. Even creepy...”

He broke off, horrified as he remembered who he was talking to. “N-not that your family’s art is creepy!” he backtracked. “I mean, it kinda feels that way sometimes, but it’s probably just the magic and that stuff is always going wrong with them, and anyway they’re really incredible and I wasn’t trying to insult them or-”

It took him a moment to realize that Satoshi’s shoulders were shaking with laughter.

He had put a hand over his mouth, as though to hold the laugh in, but after a moment he seemed to give up, and peal after peal of helpless mirth burst out of him.

“Were you- were you worried about offending me?” he gasped, breathless. “Daisuke. You could tear my entire family to pieces, and everything they’ve ever created, and I would agree with every word.”

Daisuke could only stare at him. He was utterly taken aback, but the only thought that would hold itself clearly in his mind was that he’d never seen Satoshi looking so happy. It seemed to transform his whole being, making him look truly young and carefree for the first time in Daisuke's memory.

And he was beautiful. Not cute, and not good-looking, but stunningly and breathtakingly beautiful.

Daisuke’s heart, which hadn’t been entirely steady throughout the day, suddenly seemed as though it was about to beat right out of his chest. His pulse was pounding in his ears, and he abruptly knew with an all-too-familiar certainty that he needed to get out of the museum now.

He glanced around the room, panic-stricken.

He knew the quickest exits from every point in the building - could have recited them in his sleep. If he needed to, he could be outside in a few short seconds. But what could he possibly say to explain himself?

Satoshi was, of course, one of the few people Daisuke could have simply told the truth to. Perhaps the only one who would have truly understood. But Daisuke’s heart, hammering wildly, seemed to tell him that he would be admitting more than he was ready to if he said it out loud.

The smile had vanished from Satoshi’s face, and Daisuke felt a twist of guilt at the concern that replaced it. “Are you alright, Niwa?”

“I- I’m fine.” Damn it, damn it, what could he possibly say? “I, uhhhh, I… have to go now.”

He definitely did not want to think about the hurt look that came into Satoshi’s eyes. Which made it unfortunate that it was the last thing he saw as he raced out of the building.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t until Daisuke was most of the way home, his heart slamming against his ribs and his thoughts whirling wildly in his head, that he finally paused to catch his breath.

What the hell was that?

‘You really need me to answer that?’ a familiarly sardonic voice replied.

‘But I… I don’t transform around Satoshi!’

That wasn’t, if Daisuke was honest with himself, strictly true. There had been close calls in the past, which had become all the more frequent in recent months. But it had been easy to chalk those instances up to the situation, not the person he happened to be with. Satoshi, after all, had habits that would fluster anyone, always cornering Daisuke against walls and saying disarming things. Anyone would react in a scenario like that. It didn’t mean anything.

Or so he’d liked to tell himself.

The truth was a gnarlier thing, and Daisuke wasn’t even sure where to start unraveling it. Maybe there had always been something there, from the time they had come into each other’s orbit, that he simply hadn’t recognized for what it was. Maybe it had begun in that moment which felt so long ago now, when Satoshi had found him with his heart in pieces and lent him a handkerchief. Or maybe something had changed when they went after Argentine together, or after Daisuke’s relationship with Riku had fallen apart, or any other of a dozen times when things between them had seemed to shift.

Maybe all of those things were true, and where they were now was the result of countless, infinitesimal turning points in their relationship. Daisuke wasn’t quite sure. All he knew was that there were feelings there that he couldn’t deny anymore, and he had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

He sighed as he rounded the corner to his house, eyeing the front door wearily. He wasn’t sure what he was less in the mood for right now - death traps, or his mother’s overly bright smile and sharp gaze.

For a moment he considered avoiding home entirely and then, on a wild impulse, he went around to the side of the house. A few seconds later, he had easily scaled up the wall and slipped in silently through a second-floor window. 

He lay down on his bed, mind racing. His thoughts absorbed him so deeply, he barely noticed the half hour that passed before there was a forceful pounding at his door.

“Daisuke Niwa!! Mommy spent a long time working on those traps! That is not an acceptable way to-”

“I got past them, didn’t I?” he called back.

There was a clicking sound at the door (no lock could keep a Niwa out for long), and a moment later his mother stepped into the room, her face nearly as red as her hair.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?!” she asked.

Daisuke sat up, tensing. “I just wanted some peace and quiet for a while, that’s all,” he explained.

Part of him hoped she would ask him why. He didn’t have the faintest idea what he’d tell her if she did, but it would be nice to feel like she cared.

His mother frowned. “Well, you can’t rest for long,” was all she said. “You’re supposed to steal the Wings of Icarus at 6:30, and the museum is across town.”

“I’m not going.”

Emiko’s jaw dropped. “You’re what?!”

“I’m not going,” Daisuke repeated, calmly. “I told you, I need some time to think right now. I’ve got a lot on my mind.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart,” she said. “You have plenty of time to think. And you have to go - I’ve already sent out the notice, and think of what it could do to Dark’s reputation if he didn’t show up!”

Daisuke bit back a smile. “I think his ego can take it.”

“That isn’t the point!” His mother threw up her hands, frustrated. “You have a job to do, and you- you don’t get to have a choice about this!”

“I do, actually. I’m choosing to take a night off.”

For a moment, she simply stared at him in disbelief. Then she grabbed Daisuke’s chin and tilted his face up towards hers, scanning it as though she could read his secrets there.

“What is this?” she demanded. “Some kind of teenage rebellion?”

He resisted the urge to squirm out of her grasp. “No. I need a break, that’s all.”

“You need to do as you’re told!” 

“Mom,” Daisuke said, softly and firmly. “You’re not going to change my mind about this.”

Their eyes locked, and there was something almost bewildered in hers, beneath the anger. It occurred to Daisuke that she simply was not used to him refusing to back down. Having failed to argue him into submission, she had no script for what to do next.

After a tense moment she released him, abruptly enough that Daisuke fell back against the bed. Then she turned and stalked out of the room, still ranting as she went. Downstairs, Daisuke heard her voice, loud and outraged, joined by two others. Kosuke’s was soft and conciliatory, but Daisuke was pretty sure his grandfather was laughing.

He leaned back, letting out a breath he hadn’t quite exhaled since his mother had come into the room.

‘Good to know you care so much about my reputation,’ Dark deadpanned.

Daisuke felt a sudden rush of worry. He knew his decision had been the right one, but he couldn’t stand the thought of Dark being upset at him on top of everything else. ‘Are you mad at me?'

‘I’m not sure if I’m mad or impressed, honestly,’ he admitted.

Daisuke reached over for his sketchbook and flipped it open, charcoal pencil flying across the paper. His mind was a mess of tangled thoughts right now, and he needed something to help him unwind and focus.

‘Let me know when you figure it out.’

That night Daisuke kept tossing and turning, playing the day’s events over and over in his mind. So much had happened, and he couldn’t stop second-guessing himself, questioning the decisions he’d made, wondering how to interpret everything. He felt as though he were at a crucial juncture in his life, where every decision he made might have lasting effects. And yet the thought that returned to his mind the most, always there when he closed his eyes, was what Satoshi had looked like when he laughed.

‘Will you quiet it down?' an annoyed voice came in his mind. ‘Some of us are trying to sleep, here!'

‘I wasn’t saying anything!' Daisuke protested.

‘You’re thinking way too loudly,’ Dark grumbled. ‘Save your little gay panic identity crisis for the morning, will you?'

Daisuke rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, obligingly trying to quiet his thoughts. He needed the sleep too, he knew, and there were no easy answers to be found in just one night. But he still found the question nagging at his mind.

‘Am I gay?’

A huff. ‘I don’t know, are you?’

Daisuke was fairly certain the answer to that question was “No.” He thought about Riku, with her fearless eyes and surprisingly sweet smile. When he thought back on their relationship, he had many regrets - he should have trusted her more, been more honest with her, opened up to her earlier. But his feelings for her had been genuine, he was certain of it. Just as the crushes he’d had on other girls throughout the years had been real.

‘I don’t think so,’ he said, musing it over slowly in his mind. ‘I like girls. I always have. But… I’m starting to think that I…'

‘Have a thing for the four-eyed creep, yeah, I know.’

‘… Like boys, too,' Daisuke corrected. 

‘Yeah, so? That’s a thing. Some people like both. They even have a word for it now, I think.’

‘Bisexual.’ Saying the word felt significant somehow, even if it was only in his own mind. Like trying on an unfamiliar suit of clothes, feeling as though he were playing dress-up and yet unsettled by how perfectly it fit him. 

‘Is that what I am, Dark? Bisexual?'

‘If I say yes, will you let me go to sleep?'  When Daisuke just rolled his eyes in response, the thief sighed. ‘I don’t know, Dai. It wouldn’t exactly surprise me if you were.’

But it was a question Dark couldn’t answer for him, ultimately, Daisuke knew. His feelings were his own, and even Dark, who shared his thoughts and emotions in a way no one else ever would, couldn’t see everything in the depths of his heart. 

There was something freeing about that, though. This was a decision no one else could make for him, a role that no one could choose to assign him. In a life that Daisuke often felt was like following a script that had been written for him in advance, these were lines that he would write entirely on his own.

There were no easy answers to be found in just one night, it was true. But something had settled in his mind, and Daisuke breathed a contented sigh as he turned over and shut his eyes for the night.

Chapter Text

The next day, the school was abuzz with the story of Dark’s failure to show up as announced.

“It’s all because of my dad, you’ll see,” Saehara said proudly. “Dark knows the police are getting too smart for him, and it won’t be long before they catch him now.”

“Nah, Dark’s just playing the long game,” someone else argued. “The second the police let their guard down, he’ll go back and steal it, just you wait.”

“Isn’t that cheating?” another person asked.

“Well, he’s a thief! What do you expect?”

Risa Harada shook her head. “Dark wouldn’t stoop to something like that,” she said decidedly. “I think he likes the challenge of having it be a fair fight.”

Daisuke did his best to ignore the small, flattered thrill that went through Dark at that comment (‘Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?’), and looked over to catch Satoshi’s eye. His heart gave a nervous lurch as their eyes met, off-balance after everything that had happened yesterday. But then Satoshi's mouth curled in amusement, and in spite of everything, Daisuke couldn’t help but grin back.

Wordlessly, Satoshi crossed the room and came to lean over Daisuke’s desk. “The police really should be congratulated on their outstanding work,” he drawled.

“Exemplary,” Daisuke agreed, smiling up at him. There was a warm intimacy to the feeling that this was a secret shared between the two of them, as though they were both in on a joke that no one else could understand.

Then Satoshi’s smile faltered. “Is everything alright?” he asked, lowering his voice until it was barely audible in the clamor around them. “You left the museum so suddenly yesterday, and then…”

“I’m okay.” Daisuke dropped his gaze, trying not to show the rush of anxiety that swept through him. The thought of talking about this was enough to make his stomach do somersaults, even without the danger of their classmates all around them.

He gave the room a nervous glance. Everyone seemed too busy with their own conversations to pay the two of them any attention, but if he was going to have this discussion, it was one he knew better than to have in public.

Satoshi followed his gaze, and seemed to understand. “You’ll tell me over lunch?” he asked, straightening up.

“It’s a promise.”

“So, what really happened?” Satoshi asked later, when they were up on the school’s roof and away from curious ears.

“It’s nothing dramatic.” Daisuke shrugged, hoping to keep his voice light. He studiously avoided Satoshi’s eyes as he unpacked his lunch. “I just... needed a night off.”

Satoshi blinked. “And your family… allowed you to do that?”

“Well, Mom wasn’t exactly happy about it.” Daisuke felt a little bubble of pride at the memory. He’d stood his ground, for once. Maybe it would be easier to do it in the future.

“I would imagine not.” Satoshi’s lips quirked in amusement, but there was something deeper in his eyes. Almost amazed. “That's... quite impressive, Niwa."

Daisuke blushed. "It's not that big a deal," he muttered, but he couldn't quite hide the pleased smile that tugged at his mouth.

Satoshi looked at him sidelong. “You’re not worried about the potential consequences?”

“I mean, Mom will be ticked off for a while, but I’m sure she’ll-”

He broke off. Satoshi’s expression made it clear that he had meant something far more serious.

“... What kind of consequences?” he asked, slowly.

“I just thought that they might… retaliate. Or take matters into their own hands.”

Daisuke stared at him. He would be the first to admit that his family was far from perfect, but it would never have occurred to him to think about them in terms like those. As though Satoshi was talking about some ruthless enemy army, and not Daisuke’s own family.

“Because I wouldn’t steal something last night?” he asked.

“Because you went against their plans,” Satoshi said, as though it should have been obvious.

He might as well have been speaking a foreign language, Daisuke thought. He had known that Satoshi didn’t exactly have a high opinion of the Niwa family, of course, but surely he didn’t think that badly of them? Where was this coming from?

And then suddenly it hit him, in a flash of horrible certainty.

“Is that how the Hikari family did things?”

Satoshi’s mouth twisted into a humorless smile. “I am not Satoshi Hikari anymore,” was all he said.

“What are you talking about? What does that mean?”

“Nothing of concern.” His hands curled in his lap; when they opened, there were little white marks where his nails had dug into his palm. “You still haven’t told me why you left in such a hurry yesterday.”

“You’re avoiding the question,” Daisuke accused.

Satoshi glanced at him sharply. “And so are you.”

Daisuke hesitated. For all the progress they had made, he was still very aware that there were parts of himself Satoshi kept carefully closed off. It had been such a long, delicate process to gain his trust that Daisuke was wary of pushing too hard against those boundaries, afraid that it would scare the other boy off entirely.

Besides, Satoshi was right. He was avoiding the question.

There was a strong temptation to lie, and make the awkward subject go away entirely. But lies like that had already cost Daisuke one relationship. He didn’t want them to ruin another.

Daisuke took a deep breath. “I left because, I… well, I felt like I was going to transform.”

“... I see.” Satoshi stared down at his hands. His face was inscrutable, but Daisuke got the feeling that he was choosing his words very, very carefully. “Any particular reason?”

You’re really cute when you laugh, Daisuke thought, but that was a bit more honesty than he was ready for.

“I- I’m not sure,” he said, instead.

Satoshi nodded, slowly. Daisuke didn’t know if that meant he understood - he wasn’t quite sure he wanted Satoshi to understand, or even that he entirely understood himself - or if it was just intended to fill a space in the conversation. But if Satoshi had come to any conclusions, he kept them to himself.

The silence stretched on, long and awkward, until Daisuke had just about given up hope that Satoshi was going to say anything, and was racking his mind desperately for ways to break it.

“You could have just told me, you know,” Satoshi said finally.

Daisuke ducked his head. He had never hated his tendency to blush as much as in that moment. “It’s embarrassing,” he mumbled.

“Is it?” Satoshi reached out, cool as a cucumber, and calmly stole one of Daisuke’s dumplings. He popped it into his mouth, face utterly blank.

And just like that, some tension in the moment seemed to break.

Daisuke glared at him, but there was a smile spreading across his face. “Hey, that’s stealing,” he objected.

Satoshi stole a second one, unperturbed. “You must be deeply offended.”

“Well, yeah.” Daisuke grinned, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off him. “Who wants to be friends with a thief?”

‘Well, I can’t say I think much of your taste,’ Dark sniped. ‘I mean sure, there are some hot guys out there, but Hiwatari? The guy’s about as appealing as a dead fish.’

Daisuke smiled, unbothered. ‘I thought you said he was just your type,’ he couldn’t resist pointing out.

‘If he was a girl, I said. And I was messing with him! Geez. Trust you to actually take something like that seriously.’

‘Oh, come on! Even you have to admit he’s good-looking.’

‘The hell I do!’ Daisuke wouldn’t have thought an incorporeal voice could sound like it was gagging, but Dark managed it somehow. It was almost impressive. ‘I’ll give you this - you’ve definitely found the one person I have no interest in competing for.’

‘Good.’ There was something warm and possessive curling through Daisuke, and he did his best to quash it down. Satoshi wasn’t his to think about that way, and besides, he had enough people trying to possess him already. Daisuke wasn’t going to be another one.

‘It would be nice if you’d at least picked someone I could get along with, though,’ Dark complained. ‘Why does everyone you fall for seem to hate me? First Riku, and now Hiwatari…”

Daisuke couldn’t help a grin. ‘Maybe it’s nice to know that I’m appreciated for myself.’

He expected a snarky response, or maybe more of Dark’s theatrical complaining, but his alter ego went momentarily quiet at that. When he spoke again, his voice was serious in a way Daisuke rarely heard from him.

‘Is that something you worry about?’

‘I don’t know,’ Daisuke said, which was an absolute lie. ‘I guess, well - it’s not exactly a secret that there are a lot of people who prefer you over me.’

‘Are there?’

Daisuke’s thoughts flashed unbidden to his mother, but it hurt too much to put those fears into words. He wondered if Dark would pick up on the feeling, all the same.

‘Well, Harada-san certainly did,’ he said, because it was easier.

Dark was quiet again, and Daisuke felt a confusing rush of feelings from him. He couldn’t make out any clear shape to them, but it felt as though there was something deeply important Dark was struggling to put into words.

‘Risa was the first,’ he said finally.

‘Huh?’

‘In all of my- In all the time I’ve been around. Risa is the only one who ever chose me, and not my Tamer.’

It should have been obvious, Daisuke thought, as a thousand small moments suddenly clicked into place, but he was still momentarily stunned by the revelation. He had thought it was simply a challenge for Dark, at first, all but accused him of having some ulterior motive for pursuing Risa. And maybe to begin with, that had been true. But with a sudden clarity, he remembered the tremor in Dark’s voice when he'd asked 'Have you chosen me?', and realized just how much those words must have meant to him.

'Not once?' he asked, numb.

'Never.' Dark's voice was soft, but Daisuke could feel the pain reverberate through him. 'Every time, my Tamer and I would fall in love with the same girl. And every time, she would choose him. And then I would disappear, until the next cycle came, and it would all repeat itself, over and over...'

'Were they always girls?' Daisuke couldn't help asking.

Dark almost laughed at that, despite everything. 'Yes, Daisuke, they were always girls.'

He sat for a moment, letting the immensity of it all sink in. 'Why is this time different, do you think?'

'I'm not sure,' Dark admitted. 'You’re not exactly an average Tamer, in more ways than one. And maybe I'm changing, too… maybe we're all re-writing the rulebook on this one.'

Daisuke smiled. 'You know, I think I like the sound of that.'

Chapter Text

"You know, I think you like seeing me embarrassed," Daisuke accused one day, as they lingered in the classroom after school.

Satoshi hid a smirk behind the book he was reading. It had begun as a game, to keep his enemy off-balance, or so he'd told himself. But he had long since passed the point where he had to admit the only thing he gained from it was the pleasure of making Daisuke blush. He probably should have known better than to take such a risk, the threat of Krad being what it was, but once he'd begun it was addictively hard to stop.

"I suppose I do," was all he said, voice carefully even. He didn’t look up from the book.

Until it was snatched out of his hands, and he was confronted instead by Daisuke’s flushed and indignant face. "Hey!" he protested. "You could at least bother denying it!"

Satoshi shrugged. "Why should I? It's perfectly true."

Daisuke scowled, in a show of ire that failed to be remotely threatening, and Satoshi felt a sudden rush of affection squeeze at his chest. He was just so adorable like this, how could anyone resist it?

"So you like seeing me suffer, is that it?"

"That is not what I said." Satoshi stood, bringing him a step closer into the other boy's space, and a small thrill went through him at the way Daisuke’s eyes widened. "It's… endearing."

Daisuke made a face at that. "Endearing?"

"Why not?"

"It's just… a little condescending, that's all," he muttered.

"Cute, then." Satoshi took another step closer, and another, until their noses were nearly brushing. "Appealing, adorable, charming…"

Daisuke was staring up at him, red-faced and breathless and apparently struck dumb, and there was a voice in the back of Satoshi’s head screaming that this was a bad idea, but that voice was getting increasingly drowned out by the sheer intensity of feeling thrumming through him. It just felt so good, and there was another part of him screaming to close the distance between them and break down every last barrier and…

Daisuke’s hand pushed against his chest, and Satoshi stumbled back, feeling as though he had suddenly been doused with cold water.

"I-I'm sorry," he stammered, not quite certain what he was apologizing for.

Daisuke just looked at him, still flushed red, but steady and measuring in his gaze. "This… this isn't how friends act with each other, Satoshi," he said quietly.

And Satoshi could have pled ignorance at that, since Daisuke was the first real friend he had ever had, but the truth was, he had known on some level. He was inexperienced with relationships, but he wasn't entirely ignorant. He had never seen Daisuke act that way with Takeshi Saehara, for instance, or seen it in any of the other boys' friendships in their class. But Daisuke had never objected, and it had felt natural somehow, for the two of them if not for anyone else.

"I didn't think you minded," he blurted out, stupidly. "If I had known…"

Daisuke curled a hand against his chest and breathed deeply, seeming lost for words. After a moment, he almost smiled, a gently wry expression. "I thought you liked seeing me embarrassed," was all he said.

Satoshi hesitated. He didn't know quite how to put into words that he liked seeing Daisuke flustered, liked being able to make him blush and stammer and act adorably off-balance, but the thought of doing something to actually upset him was horrifying. What would make him any different from Krad, then, doing whatever he wanted to someone with no thought to how they felt?

"I would... never want to… act in a way that you disliked."

Daisuke smiled outright at that, though there was still a wry tilt to it. He seemed to weigh some decision in his mind before he spoke again.

"If anything, I… I liked it too much," he said, very softly, and Satoshi’s heart lurched to a sudden halt.

He had to leave abruptly after that, of course. He was fairly sure he had muttered an apology as he fled, but everything seemed so utterly lost in the sudden haze of elation and terror that he didn't even register Daisuke’s reaction.

It was impossible to say which of those emotions dominated; they seemed to be almost one and the same in that moment, his sudden rush of understanding and joy giving way almost immediately to the terror of what those feelings could mean. Krad's presence seemed to rip through his very being, and by the time Satoshi felt anywhere close to in control again, he was weak and shaky from the effort of it.

This is bad news, he told himself, when the maelstrom had subsided enough for him to start thinking clearly. It doesn't change anything for the better, it only makes them a thousand times more complicated.

But that couldn’t quite silence the stubborn, foolishly childish voice saying, He feels the same way!

Ridiculous. This was what came of hubris - he had liked to think he was nothing like a typical teenager, far beyond such shallow immaturity, and in truth he was no different from those smitten girls he had once so totally dismissed, falling to pieces because his crush liked him back.

He buried his head in his hands and groaned, suddenly exhausted.

It was impossibly tempting to just go home and crash for the night (for the next week, an irrationally indulgent part of his brain couldn’t help thinking), but he managed to drag himself to work somehow, though he was still tired and dizzy by the time he got there, drained from the struggle with Krad.

'I hardly see why you should go to such trouble,' the angel said, his voice as bright and sharp as a shard of glass. 'How much longer do you really think this can last? Perhaps if you had managed to stay aloof, you might have prolonged this foolish struggle of yours for a while more. As it is, however…''

He laughed, and Satoshi ground his teeth, white-knuckled as he gripped the edge of his desk.

'I have everything under control,' he said, not because he expected Krad to believe such a barefaced lie, but simply out of the desperate wish for it to be true.

'Do you?' Krad sounded infuriatingly amused. 'I do not think control is something you have known in a very long time, Satoshi-sama. It is one thing to take such risks with yourself, of course, but one might have thought you would be more careful with this boy you claim to care about so much…'

'Shut UP!!'

'Such rudeness! Why lash out at me, when your own recklessness is what endangers him? Did you not say long ago that you would destroy him? You should have stayed away then; if he falls into my hands, you will have only yourself to blame...

…'

"Commander- listen, Commander- Hey, kid! Is everything alright?"

Satoshi looked up, dazed, to see Inspector Saehara bending down over him, a worried expression on his craggy face. He blinked, slowly becoming aware of the world outside his mind, and realized for the first time that he was shaking from head to toe, his fingers digging into the desk as though he was clinging for his life.

"I'm fine," he whispered, in a voice that sounded as hoarse and strained as if he hadn't used it in years.

With an effort, he uncurled his hands from the desk and tried to will his arms to stop shaking. "Perfectly fine," he repeated, forcing himself to his feet, and promptly gave lie to the entire thing when his legs buckled under him and he crashed to the ground.

Inspector Saehara caught him halfway, muttering curses, and bodily dragged him back into the chair.

"I've seen cadavers that look more fine than you," he snapped. "Wait here."

He was back a moment later with a large cup of hot coffee and a package of senbei, which he deposited on the desk. Too exhausted to argue, Satoshi picked up the coffee and gulped it down. Truthfully he was famished, drained as he was, though he was loath to admit it.

Saehara wordlessly watched him eat and drink, in a way that would have made Satoshi self-conscious if he hadn't been too damn tired to care.

"Why do you do this?" he asked quietly.

Satoshi just stared at him in resignation. His mind felt fogged and heavy, but he didn't need to ask what Saehara meant. "I have a unique set of abilities which gives me a particular advantage in-"

"I've heard all of that," Saehara interrupted. "God knows what any of it means, but I've heard it. That's not what I'm asking. What do you get out of it? Something to look impressive on your resume someday? From what I've heard, you don't need it."

Satoshi had a sudden, hysterical urge to laugh. The mere idea that he would live long enough to care about padding his resume for some future career seemed impossible to the point of ludicrous.

"It isn’t that," he said, impassively. "It's… a calling, I suppose you could say."

"You’re fifteen years old! Who the hell is assigning you a calling?"

"That is none of your concern," he snapped. "What matters is that I have a job to do, and I intend to finish it while I still can."

The last part had slipped out - worn out and emotional, he hadn't been paying close attention to what he said. Krad had been right: he was not in control, nor anywhere near it. He could only hold his breath and hope that Inspector Saehara hadn't caught the implications.

But the inspector's eyes narrowed. "While you still can?" he repeated.

"While… while we still have any hope of capturing Dark," Satoshi amended, mentally kicking himself.

"Ah." Saehara sat back, looking at the boy in front of him thoughtfully. "Between you and me, I'm not sure we have any hope of that now."

Satoshi hesitated a fraction of a second, then agreed, "Probably not."

Inspector Saehara looked momentarily taken aback, and then he frowned. "Which brings us back to what exactly you're doing here."

"My job," he said simply, reaching for the stack of paperwork in front of him. "Which I'd like to get back to, if it's all the same to you."

"After that little scene earlier? Don't be ridiculous." When Satoshi just glared at him, Saehara huffed in annoyance. "You were practically having conniptions at your desk! You're going home for the night."

Satoshi stiffened. "You don't have the authority to order me-"

"I'm old enough to be your damn father. That's my authority. What good will you be to anyone if we have to worry you'll collapse on the job? You'd be a liability more than anything else, and I can't afford that."

There was a cold, steely logic to that which probably did more to convince him than sympathy would have. "Well, I suppose-"

"No supposing about it. You're going home. Hopefully to sleep for the next fifteen hours, from the way you look."

The thought was more appealing than he liked to admit.

Satoshi nodded.

"That's more like it," Saehara approved. He offered a hand which Satoshi ignored, determined not to seem a complete invalid. Once on his feet, he tottered slightly but was relieved that he stayed upright.

Inspector Saehara laid a heavy hand on his arm. "Look, kid-" he hesitated. "Whatever the deal is… you take care of yourself, alright?"

Satoshi nodded again, resisting the urge to correct the familiarity. There was something he wanted to say, but it took him a bleary moment to think of the words.

"Thank you."

Chapter Text

Long before her son had been born, Emiko had felt as though she knew him. The Niwa genes ran strong, and so she had a clear image of what he would look like, formed from old photographs of her own father and paintings of further ancestors. She had known what to expect in character, too: her child would be bold, clever and dashing and adventurous. The perfect Tamer to carry on her family's legacy.

The perfect Phantom Thief that she had never been allowed to be.

And yet she had been unprepared for the reality of Daisuke, the child who both fulfilled and defied what she had imagined. His Niwa heritage was unmistakable, from his mop of red hair to the natural aptitude with which he'd taken to her training. He was brave and clever like the child she'd dreamt of, but he was also timid and gentle in a way that made her worry, knowing the boldness he would need for what lay ahead.

"He's not a child who dwells in sadness," she had told her father once, and that had been true from his earliest years. He always seemed to beam with joy, and even in the rare moments when he had been hurt or scared, and would break down crying in her arms, it was never too long before the sadness faded and he would be ambling off again with with a bright smile on his face.

But now those smiles seemed to have faded away, leaving her son pale and distracted. He never seemed to meet Emiko's eyes properly, and whenever she tried to question him, he would brush her off with vague excuses and bright expressions that were jarring in how utterly false they were.

Worse still, her own investigations into the source of Daisuke’s unexplained anxiety had led to absolutely nothing. Which meant he was intentionally keeping secrets from her, and she felt the rebuff of it like a slap in the face.

"It's normal," Kosuke told her one night when, tucked away in their bedroom, she confided her fears to him. "He's a teenager now - they need some space, some privacy."

Emiko tried to remember if she had felt that way as a teenager. Had she wanted… privacy? She could only remember the desperate, aching need to feel noticed, to feel special, and the sharp sting of rejection when she hadn't. Maybe her father had in fact thought he was giving her space, but Emiko had felt certain that his distance was out of disappointment with her.

She had sworn that her own child would never know the pain of that neglect, and she did not intend to break that promise now.

It was terrifying to watch her son seem to wilt in front of her and have no idea why. He was so pale and listless that Emiko began to worry he might be sick, and one morning when he looked particularly haggard she stopped him and pressed a concerned hand to his forehead.

"Dai-chan? Sweetie, are you okay?"

Daisuke shivered under her touch, but he just nodded mutely in response. And then he moved to pull away - why did he always seem to be pulling away these days? - and something in her broke.

“Why don't you talk to me?” she cried, all but shouting. “I'm your mother!”

Daisuke flinched at that. Guilt wavered across his face, but his eyes stayed infuriatingly shuttered.

“I'm just tired, that's all,” he mumbled. The smile on his face might have been glued there. “Please don't worry, Mom.”

How could she not worry? Didn't he understand that her every thought had been devoted to his happiness, before she had even laid eyes on him?

Emiko sighed. She reached out and placed both hands on Daisuke's shoulders, gently pulling him towards her.

"Maybe I have been pushing you too hard," she admitted. "It's just that the work we do is so important…"

"Why?"

Emiko blinked. The question was so utterly foreign that it took her a moment to understand what he was asking.

"What do you mean, why?"

"Well, it's not like you ever explained it," he muttered. "Why is stealing those things so important, anyway?"

She could only stare at him in bewilderment. "You know why."

"No. I don't, actually."

It had hardly occurred to Emiko that he would need an explanation. Hadn't what he'd seen of the Hikari magic told him everything he needed to know?

"You've seen the kind of damage the Hikari creations do when they're left to their own devices," she said, as patiently as she could. "We're able to take care of them, and seal them away when necessary, and that protects them from going out of control and hurting anyone around them."

Daisuke seemed frustratingly unimpressed by this argument, his face stubborn and unchanging as she spoke.

"But Hiwatari-kun knows more about that than anyone!" he argued. "He's been taught about this stuff his whole life, and he has these ways of healing the artworks- You should see it, it's amazing- "

Emiko bit back a frustrated groan. She loved her son's ability to see the best in everyone, but she knew all too well that it was a trait that left him vulnerable to being taken advantage of. She didn't understand how the Hikari boy, with his icy demeanor and calculating stare, had somehow convinced Daisuke to see him so warmly.

Her son’s blind faith could only end with betrayal. She had tried to make Daisuke see reason over and over, and yet he still seemed incapable of understanding...

"You can't trust him!"

"But I do."

He said it so simply that for a moment it stopped her up short. He had said things to that effect before - that the Hikari boy was his friend, that he trusted him - but there had always been a level of uncertainty to it, almost a note of apology in his voice. Now that was gone.

For a moment it shook her into silence, but she took a deep breath and forced herself to push forward.

"Maybe he really does mean well," she said, with an effort. Clearly there's no point in trying to convince him otherwise. "But you can't rely on that. The artwork is an obsession for the Hikari family - eventually the drive to create, to let their art loose on the world, becomes stronger than anything else. They can't be rational about it. Do you think your friend is the first one who tried to resist that?"

This, at least, seemed to genuinely give him pause. "Isn’t he?"

"No. There were others, through the years... If Krad doesn't get them, or the curse, they're driven mad by their art. And that's why the Hikari boy can't be trusted when it comes to this." She looked into his eyes, desperately searching for some kind of comprehension. "Do you understand now?"

But Daisuke just shook his head stubbornly. "Hiwatari-kun isn't like that."

Emiko sighed, the exasperation rising so sharply that she had to bite it back from turning into a scream. "I know you want to believe that, but-"

"How would you even know?" he burst out. "You've never even bothered to get to know him! He's stronger than anyone I've ever met, and more in control - and he isn't obsessed with art like that, he just cares about doing the right thing."

Had any Hikari ever cared about doing the right thing?

"Or about his own agenda," she snapped.

"So what if he does? It's his family's art - he should get to do whatever he wants with it."

She could only gape at him in helpless frustration. Where could she have gone so utterly wrong, so utterly failed to make him understand what the stakes were here?

How could she make him see the truth before it was too late?

Or - the most terrifying thought of all - was it already far too late for her to fix this?

Daisuke's own eyes were wide, as if he couldn't believe he'd actually said such a thing out loud.

"Even if that agenda was about hurting our family?" Her voice was so low and deadly that Daisuke took a step back.

"He'd never do something like that."

Emiko felt her mouth twist into a wry smile.

"And what will the cost be if you're wrong?"

Chapter Text

Satoshi wasn’t avoiding him. Not exactly.

They still talked, at school, and whenever Daisuke approached him, Satoshi was friendly. Carefully friendly. Friendly to a perfectly appropriate degree, and nothing more.

It made Daisuke realize just how much had changed over the past year. Back then, the way Satoshi acted toward him now would have seemed like an unprecedented level of warmth from his notoriously frosty classmate. Now, it felt like a slap in the face.

He wasn't sure he'd even fully noticed just how much Satoshi had let his guard down around him, over time, until the closeness that had existed between them was abruptly gone.

He felt its lack like a gaping hole in his life, and the worst part was knowing that he had no one but himself to blame.

Satoshi had been so worried about violating his boundaries, but in the end Daisuke was afraid he was the one who had done exactly that. By calling out what was going on between them, by refusing to let things stand as they were, he had pushed for more than Satoshi was willing to give.

And he had no idea how to fix it. If speaking up was what had pushed Satoshi away, how could he broach the topic a second time? Maybe he owed it to Satoshi to simply keep quiet and accept their relationship for what it was, in whatever form made him comfortable.

But the thought of leaving things like this forever, awkward and unresolved and with the truth only half-spoken between them, made Daisuke want to scream.

He wished there was someone he could turn to for advice, but that was hardly a simple thing. Dark wasn’t totally unsympathetic, in his way, but there was only so far he'd discuss the topic before huffing off in annoyance. And in order to explain the situation to anyone else, he'd have to make another confession first, which was a prospect he found more than a little terrifying.

There wasn't anyone at school he felt ready to trust in that way. His mother and grandfather, who had both hated the idea of Daisuke so much as befriending a Hikari, were out of the question.

And then there was Kosuke.

Kosuke, who he still struggled sometimes to think of with the words 'my father'.

Kosuke, who had been gone for nearly his entire life.

Kosuke, who was perhaps the only one in his family who always seemed willing to accept Daisuke for whatever he chose to be.

It should have felt like an impossible choice. Instead, it felt like the only possible one.

And so, one night after school, he gathered his courage and found his way to Kosuke’s door.

“I was wondering…” Daisuke took a deep breath, trying to steady his pounding heart. “I’d, uh, like to talk to you about something.”

“Of course!” Kosuke looked so utterly delighted that Daisuke felt momentarily guilty for not asking more often. He liked his father, but after so many years spent apart, he sometimes had trouble remembering that he even had a father to turn to.

"I've been thinking," he said. "About this whole Sacred Maiden thing."

That was a safe place to start with Kosuke, he had decided. Scholarly and theoretical and, if he was honest, vague enough that he could always back out of the conversation if he needed to. (He couldn’t quite tell if the voice in the back of his head saying 'Coward' was Dark’s or his own.)

Kosuke nodded encouragingly. "It is a complex concept," he said. "What were you thinking about?"

Daisuke twisted his hands in his lap, and decided to take the plunge. "Well… is there anything that says it has to be a maiden?"

"As opposed to someone who's lost her maidenhood, you mean?"

Daisuke blinked at him, then felt himself turn beet red in understanding. "God! No!" Then curiosity got the better of him. "Would that make a difference?"

"Probably not." There was a mischievous twinkle in Kosuke’s eye that made Daisuke want to sink into the floor. "After all, that's a rather complex concept to define, too…"

He covered his face in his hands, mortified. "We are not having this conversation."

"Alright," Kosuke said, with a gentle laugh. "What did you mean, then?"

"Well… Maiden implies someone female."

"It generally does, yes." His tone was warm and amused, but it was impossible for Daisuke to tell if his father was laughing at him.

"But… " No backing out of it now. "But some boys like other boys, don't they?"

"Ahhhhh." Kosuke's face lit up in sudden understanding. "That's a fascinating question."

Well, at least he didn't seem outright disgusted at the idea. "So what do you think?"

"It's hard to say. This is all guesswork at best, but… " he looked thoughtful. "The earliest use of that term I've found in the family records is from 1876, and given the time period… do you know what the Keikan Code was?"

Daisuke shook his head mutely.

"The first anti-homosexual legislation passed in this country. It was enacted in 1872 and struck down eight years later, but even after that… " Kosuke looked sober. "My guess is, even if it occurred to someone then that a young boy might love someone who wasn't a maiden, they would have known better than to say it out loud."

He let out a long, shaky breath, trying to take it all in. "So it's just… narrow-minded language?"

"As I said, it's educated guesswork, but that would be my theory." His face was gentle. "I think… a Tamer is just a human being, Daisuke. I can't see why they wouldn't have the same range of feelings as any other person."

Daisuke felt the sudden, embarrassing sting of tears in his eyes. "And what if I was one of those people?" he asked.

Kosuke looked at him steadily. "Then I'd trust you to tell me when you were ready."

There was a challenge in that, Daisuke realized, whether Kosuke had intended it or not. And despite the icy rush of fear that went through him, he also realized that he owed it to himself to rise to it.

"I-I like boys," he blurted out. "I mean, not instead of girls, I like girls too… I'm bisexual," he finished, trying to hold on to what dignity he could when his hands were shaking and he was certain his face was bright red.

Kosuke, however, seemed calm in the face of all this. "I'm glad you told me," he said evenly. "And I hope you know, I'll always love you exactly the same way."

Daisuke stared at him. It was reassuring, certainly, but after all the anxiety and expectations he'd built up, it almost felt… anticlimactic. "That's… it?"

"Well, I know it must have been a very hard thing to talk about, and I just want you to know that I completely support…"

There was something too rote and perfect about it, Daisuke decided, the wheels turning rapidly in his mind. It was as though Kosuke had planned what to say in advance, but that was impossible, unless…

"Did you know?"

"I couldn't know until you told me," Kosuke said, and Daisuke almost rolled his eyes. Something must have shown on his face, because Kosuke sighed. "I… did have certain suspicions."

He swallowed, trying to rearrange his thoughts around this new revelation. "How long?"

Some of the gentle amusement came back into Kosuke’s face. "Probably since you brought the Hikari boy back here and blushed every time he looked at you."

"I didn't blush every time-"

Daisuke broke off, mortifyingly certain that he was, at that moment, blushing.

"Does Mom know?" he asked instead.

Kosuke almost laughed. "Believe me, if Emiko-san suspected anything, you'd already know about it."

His tone had been light and teasing, but Daisuke was struck by a sudden, sinking certainty. "She's not gonna like it, is she?" he whispered.

"I-I wouldn't say that." Kosuke seemed to hesitate. "I don't think she cares if you like boys or girls, or any of that. But, well…

"... I don't think she'll be very thrilled with your choice of crush," he finished, but Daisuke got the feeling it wasn't exactly what he had been thinking.

"I know that." He let his head fall into his arms with a groan. "But it's more than that, isn’t it?"

When he looked up, Kosuke was still watching him helplessly. "You’re… very different from the person she thought you'd be, Daisuke," he said at last.

“Because she had some idea of me in her head before I was even born!” Daisuke burst out. There was an anger there that was long-buried, that went far deeper than he’d let himself realize, but now it seemed on the verge of boiling over. “But I’m not that person, and- and I don’t want to be that person,” he said, and it felt like as monumental an admission as anything he’d said so far.

Kosuke nodded, seeming unsurprised by this as well.

“Who do you want to be?” he asked simply.

“I want to be… I want…”

It was the very question Daisuke had been wrestling with for months, but in that moment, he wasn’t quite sure how to answer it. An artist was one answer, and he was increasingly starting to think Satoshi’s boyfriend was another, but those were too simple, too shallow. Those were what he wanted to be, maybe, but ‘Who do you want to be?’ was asking something deeper.

“I want the people I love to be safe,” he blurted out instead, which wasn’t an answer to Kosuke’s question at all, but maybe it was somehow. “I- I don’t want Dark to disappear, and I... don’t want Satoshi to die. I want to be strong enough to protect them. And I want to create things, and- I want to be proud of what I bring to this world, not guilty about what I’ve stolen from it.”

There was a long silence after that, but there was a warmth in Kosuke’s eyes that seemed to speak volumes.

"You’re an exceptional person, Daisuke," he said quietly. "You may not think so, but your mother sees it too. And I think in time, she'll see something else as well."

"What's that?"

His father looped an arm around him and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"That what you are is a thousand times more special than either of us could have imagined," he said, and the two of them stayed there for a long time.