New World's Worth - Part Five: Dreamer of Dreams

[sariabryant]

Title: New World's Worth - Part Five: Dreamers of Dream
Rating: PG
Characters: Satoshi, Daisuke, Riku, Sakura


A week wasn’t long enough, especially not after he’d met Daisuke face to face. All the memories from those short years came surging back with a vengeance and only the fact he didn’t have Krad there with that constant clawing to be free kept him somewhat sane. Somehow, he thought it’d be easier if Krad was still there. Then he’d at least have an excuse to stay far away from Daisuke, a reason not to get involved. Because he knew if Daisuke insisted on staying in contact and trying to be friends, he’d push for more. He’d push for a lot more, until Daisuke either gave in or broke. And either one was fine with him, so long as when it was all said and done, he finally had a definite answer.

So he waited, and the days went by in meetings and paperwork and conference calls, and the nights went by in quiet dinners alone. The temptation to find a redheaded companion to fill some of those nights was there, but he knew it would only leave him feeling disappointed afterward. No one could come close to satisfying him, not now.

When it finally came down to the day, he was having second thoughts. He knew if he wanted to cut Daisuke out of his life completely, he could - he had the connections, security, and enough people to do so, but Daisuke would be an annoyance if he did. His number and address weren’t listed, but Daisuke would find some way to track him down. Besides, he wanted to know. Daisuke was married, had a kid, but he had to know if there was a chance of there being anything between them. Maybe it was wrong, but... At any rate, one decent meeting would be enough. Depending on how Daisuke responded to him, he’d know if that connection was still there.

Satoshi arrived at Daisuke’s home at seven and sat in the car a moment as he took in the area. The neighborhood felt the same as Daisuke’s childhood home - clean, homey. The house itself was quaint, two stories and a bit narrow like the others on the street. There was a garden in front of the house, full of purple orchids and free of weeds. If he’d felt out of place at fourteen during that one visit, he felt no more out of place now. This was a neighborhood for families. He picked up the bottle of expensive plum wine he’d brought at Sonya’s insistence before he could give in to the niggling instinct to leave.

He smoothed a hand over his silk shirt before knocking. He hadn’t bothered changing from his business suit, but he’d ditched the jacket and tie in an effort to make it more casual.

When the door opened, he expected it to be Daisuke. He was disappointed. Riku hadn’t changed too much from what he remembered. Her hair was longer, pulled back with a few wisps framing her face. A modest blue dress hugged her curves. Comely, he thought, a step above plain. It was on the tip of his tongue to call her Harada, but he caught himself. “Niwa-san.” It felt strange, adding the honorific.

“Hiwatari-san,” Riku said, and his name sounded as strange on her lips as hers felt on his. “Come in.” She stepped back to let him in and he handed her the wine. “Oh, thank you.” She smiled and closed the door behind him.

“Hiwatari-kun?” Daisuke’s voice came from the kitchen and he rounded the corner a moment later, grinning as their eyes met. “You came.”

Even though he’d felt it a week ago when Daisuke had hugged him - in public - he still wasn’t quite prepared for the warmth that spread through him. “You thought I wouldn’t?” He probably shouldn’t have; this would likely be awkward at best.

“I wasn’t sure.”

They looked at each other in silence, until Riku cleared her throat and moved past them. “I’ll put this in the fridge. It’ll go well with dessert.”

Satoshi followed a few steps behind until he reached Daisuke, pausing to take in the rest of the house. It mirrored the outside - quaint, tidy, with a welcoming, lived-in feel he’d never had in any of his own homes. Most of the furniture he could see looked worn - either bought used or several years ago.

Daisuke reached out and lightly squeezed Satoshi’s wrist. “Thanks for coming.”

Even through his shirt, Daisuke’s touch sent tiny shocks of heat along his arm and he hoped he had even a percentage of the same effect on Daisuke. “Like I had a choice,” he said dryly.

Riku came back from the kitchen with plates to set the table. “Dinner’s almost ready. I hope you like shrimp.”

“I’m allergic.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. If he thought about it, he could pinpoint the reaction to wanting to lash out at Riku, no matter how subtly. He’d known they would likely end up together when he left, but he’d never counted on having to deal with it directly. And while he wasn’t really allergic, he didn’t care for shrimp. It was enough he didn’t feel guilty about lying. He didn’t miss the shared look between them before she smiled and finished setting the table.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I can put together something else for you. Do you like chicken?”

“Chicken is fine, thank you.”

“Honey, can you help me in the kitchen?”

He almost felt sorry for Daisuke when he sensed more than saw him wince. He knew well enough Daisuke was about to get a tongue-lashing. Daisuke moved to the kitchen like a scolded puppy and Satoshi took the opportunity to step into the living room.

The TV was on, playing some children’s show on low volume. The coffee table was littered with papers, markers, and crayons and a little girl sat on her knees between it and the sofa, head bowed over a picture of a flower. Sakura. Niwa Sakura. He’d known Daisuke had a daughter, but it was a vast difference between knowing and seeing. He wanted to hate her on sheer principle of being Riku’s child, but she was as much Daisuke’s if not more so. The Niwa and Hikari lines always bred true, he doubted that would change even now that Koku Yoku was sealed. He knelt on the other side of the table, glancing at the several papers filled with flowers, birds, trees, and ocean. They were good. Very good. The colors may not have all been natural - he’d never seen a tree with pink in the trunk - but they showed a level of detail beyond a five-year-old’s perspective. “These are very good, Sakura.”

When she looked up, her tongue was still poking out the side of her mouth in concentration. “Are you Daddy’s friend? Hitari?”

“Hiwatari, yes.”

She frowned and pushed her hair back with marker-smudged fingers. “Hiwatari,” she replied, enunciating each syllable. “Don’t you have a shorter name? What’s your first name?”

Satoshi hesitated a moment before sighing. He couldn’t hate or even dislike Sakura, not when she had Daisuke’s open personality and an artist’s gift. “Satoshi.”

Her eyes lit up as she smiled. “Can I call you Uncle Toshi like Daddy’s other friend Uncle Keshi?”

He groaned inwardly as that brought back memories of America and their need to nickname people. “If you must...” He’d tolerated it there; he could stand it for another night since he likely wouldn’t be seeing Sakura again.

“Yay!” She reached for a paper beneath the others and held it out to him. “This is for you.”

Satoshi took it, turning it over and around to look. He nearly threw it back at her. It was a faceless figure, but he didn’t need a face to recognize it. The long gold hair and wings were more than enough, even if the wings were black. He felt sick looking at it, though he’d never seen Krad directly; he only had the impressions from their connection - Krad had avoided mirrors. Surprising, considering he’d been nearly as vain as Dark.

“You don’t like it?”

Satoshi took a deep breath and set it down before meeting her disappointed look. “His wings should be white,” he said quietly, thankful his voice held steady.

Sakura tilted her head with a frown, her crimson-flecked eyes taking on a faraway look. “No... they’re black now.” She nodded solemnly and looked at him - through him. “And you won’t die, because of him.”

“What?” Surely she didn’t know. She couldn’t know, because even if Daisuke told her stories about Dark, he wouldn’t tell her about Krad.

The strange look in her eyes faded and she leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially. “Aunty Risa taught me to read the cards, but I don’t need to see them to read them. But you can’t tell Mommy! She’d be mad at Aunty. Promise!”

Satoshi nodded absently as he stared at her. An artist and... dare he call her a Seer? They existed, or had. He’d seen them in the Hikari diaries, but none had been recorded in the past three generations. It may have just been a child’s delusion, after all, and it was true enough. He hadn’t died because Daisuke had saved him from himself.

“Dinner’s ready!” Daisuke stepped into the room, scooping Sakura up when she ran over to fling herself at him. “Are you bothering Hiwatari-kun?”

“Noooo... Uncle Toshi said my pictures were good!”

Daisuke glanced at Satoshi, somehow managing to look amused and apologetic at once. “Oh yeah? Well, he would know; he’s an amazing artist, too.” He kissed her cheek and set her down. “Go wash your hands.” He picked up a wood box from the couch and started filling it with the markers and crayons. “She seems to have taken a liking to you.”

Satoshi helped with the supplies, hesitating as he reached for the picture of Krad.

Daisuke noticed and picked it up instead, studying it a moment. “Did she give you this?”

“Yes.”

Daisuke smiled and set it back down. “She made one for me, too.”

Satoshi glanced at the picture again before gathering the others into a pile. “Of Dark?”

“Purple hair, white wings.” He shrugged and closed the box. “Who can say which it is? It doesn’t matter now; they’re one and the same, right?”

“In theory.”

Daisuke hesitated before asking, “Do you want it?”

He wanted to say no; he didn’t need any reminders of Krad. He still had sleepless nights on occasion, gripped with the fear that if he slept, he’d never wake up the same. Even so... “Yes.”

Daisuke’s answering smile made it worth it. “Good.” He set it aside away from the others.

Once everything was cleared away, Satoshi got to his feet. “How much have you told her?”

“Sakura? Not much. That doesn’t mean my mother hasn’t.” Daisuke shook his head and stood. “Let’s eat. What do you want to drink?”

“Water. Oolong if you have it.” Satoshi followed him to the table and took a seat. Sakura climbed into the chair across from him as Riku and Daisuke returned from the kitchen with the food and drinks.

Riku smiled as she served the food. He had to grudgingly admit it looked delicious. Pasta with a rich, creamy alfredo sauce and spinach, cheese bread, and salad. “Here you go,” she said, placing a plump chicken breast that smelled faintly of butter and garlic on his plate. “Sorry it’s a bit plain, but it should go well with the pasta.”

“It’s fine, thank you,” he said, the urge to apologize for the inconvenience on the tip of his tongue, but he’d been in America long enough he suppressed it almost reflexively. He wasn’t used to non-formal or non-business situations where the need to apologize wasn’t seen as a sign of weakness, not that he’d ever been too fond of it in the first place. He took the cup of tea from Daisuke, glancing up at him as their fingers touched, a flicker of hope igniting in him when Daisuke kept hold of it a second too long.

“So,” Riku said, settling into her seat. “What kind of security do you do?”

He set his cup down and turned his attention to her. “Corporate office buildings mostly. We provide the equipment, databases, and server space to monitor and store security logs.”

“I heard you’re here to develop some new software?”

He hadn’t mentioned that to Daisuke. It wasn’t a company secret, but there’d been little news about his company here as far as he knew. “You’ve done your research.”

“My dad was kind of keeping tabs on you,” Daisuke said.

“Ah, Kosuke.” He’d liked Kosuke, probably because he wasn’t a Niwa by blood and he didn’t have the prejudices of his family. And because, even if it had been a short time, Kosuke was the kind of father he would have liked to have. “How’s he doing?” He was almost sorry he asked as over the next hour he learned more about Daisuke’s family than he ever really cared to know. He was just glad there were no pictures. By the time they moved to dessert - a thick cheesecake with chocolate sauce - and the wine, Sakura had been sent off to get ready for bed and the conversation had changed to reminiscing over their few years in school together.

“I still can’t believe you voted for me as Freedert,” Daisuke said, poking at his cheesecake with a sullen look to Riku.

“Well, I couldn’t be the only one not to, it’s not like it would have made any difference.”

“You’re the only one who could have done her justice.” Satoshi sat back in his chair, turning the stem of his glass between his fingers.

Daisuke glanced at him, a slight flush to his face that could have been from his two glasses of wine. “You’re the one who freed her.”

Satoshi shrugged. There were a lot of ways to free someone. His motives had been selfish for the most part. Sending the Wedge of Time into the painting had just made sure two potentially dangerous artifacts were sealed and wouldn’t go after Daisuke again.

Riku stood and cleared away her dishes. “I’ll go tuck Sakura in,” she said, brushing her fingers against Daisuke’s shoulder on her way past. “Good night, Hiwatari-san.”

“Good night. Thank you for dinner.” He watched her leave before looking to Daisuke, feeling the curious stare like a hot touch.

Daisuke smiled and refilled their glasses. “I’m glad you came...”

Satoshi nodded. “It’s been interesting.” He sipped his wine, watching as Daisuke nearly downed his in one go. “When did you become a wino?”

Daisuke squirmed and set his glass down. “Sorry... You make me nervous.”

“You didn’t seem nervous the other day.”

He shook his head, turning the glass between his hands. “Not then. I just...” He trailed off, looking away.

Satoshi watched him, waiting to see if he’d continue before hazarding a guess. “Wasn’t sure I’d get along with your family?”

“What? No! Well... maybe a little...” Daisuke sighed and drained the rest of his glass. “Before, I was so happy to see you I never realized... You make me feel things,” he said in a rush. His eyes widened and he clamped a hand over his mouth as if he hadn’t meant to say that, turning nearly as red as his hair.

Satoshi’s heart skipped a beat. If he’d been waiting for any kind of sign, that would certainly be it. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if they were good things, but the look on Daisuke’s face kept him silent. Instead he sipped his wine and watched Daisuke pour himself another glass. He heard a clock ticking somewhere in the silence that followed and it was just getting annoying enough he thought he should leave when Daisuke spoke.

“Why’d you do it?”

The way the conversation had been going he thought he had some idea what “it” was, but knowing Daisuke... “Do what?”

“Why did you try to kill yourself? I mean, I know why, but... it seemed like you wanted to die.”

Satoshi sighed and realized he couldn’t really answer that, not anymore. It’d been easier ten years ago, when it was all fresh and he was looking at the world through the eyes of a boy. Time had a way of clouding things. The desperation he remembered all too well, it was one of the only times in his life he’d let emotion rule him. He’d had reasons and had thought them logical conclusions at the time, he was sure, but it was so hard to remember specifics. “I did, at the time,” he finally said - he remembered that well enough.

“Because of Krad?”

He nodded. “You can’t understand what it was like. I started hearing his voice long before I should have - like a sibilant whisper in the dark. It was an itch I couldn’t scratch. Only the knowledge of our families’ histories kept me sane.”

“But why was he like that? Dark wasn’t anything like that.”

Discussing Krad was the last thing he wanted to do, but he resigned himself to it when he noticed Daisuke’s curious look. It was something he’d always wondered himself, though he’d never dared to look too hard for an answer until a few years after they’d been sealed. “The initial separation likely had something to do with it.” Spells that powerful colliding with a piece of art that big left their marks in a lot of ways. “The Hikari kept very meticulous diaries. When the curse first took root, he was like any other new sentient being - curious, childlike even, but he was... damaged. I assume it was the same for Dark, in the beginning. The first few Hikaris tried to help him, to heal him, but nothing seemed to do any good. Eventually his frustration lead to anger and he began lashing out, trying to take more control.” He paused and shrugged, and saw Daisuke listening with rapt fascination. “The Hikari were arrogant. They didn’t take well to one of their creations acting out.”

“What’d they do?”

He didn’t want to answer - some of the things he’d read had made even him sick, and he’d gotten his hands on some of the bloodier cases while working with the police. “Spells of binding, to say the least. They didn’t last long, which pushed them to other methods.”

“Ah... I don’t want to know, do I?”

“No. Krad learned his cruelty from the Hikari.”

“Oh.” Daisuke sighed and propped his chin up, fiddling with his glass, though he’d stopped drinking at least. “So... it wasn’t really all his fault he ended up like that.”

“Not entirely, I suppose.”

“But you still hate him.”

Satoshi blinked and looked at Daisuke. “No. I never hated him.” He wanted to stop talking, but even one glass of wine loosened his tongue, and the fact it was Daisuke only compounded that. Once he started, the words kept flowing. “I hated what he did, what he wanted to do, but I never hated him. I understood him, more than I ever wanted to.” Krad had been as lonely as he was, had even tried to use that against him, but he’d been born with more integrity than past Hikari hosts. “Even so, I didn’t agree with him and I didn’t know how else to stop him. I’d planned to go out a hero, in my own way,” he said with a wry twist of his lips. “All because of you.”

Daisuke’s surprise was amusing to behold, his expression close to when he’d admitted to feeling things. “Me?” He tilted his head and smiled, and Satoshi prayed Daisuke’d had enough alcohol he wouldn’t remember much of this conversation come morning. “I did always wonder if I was your trigger,” he said softly. “You did it for me?”

Satoshi shrugged, unable to explain how truly selfish most of his actions had been. Daisuke was far too giving to understand. “You’d do the same for Riku or Sakura.”

Daisuke nodded slowly, swishing his wine around before draining the little bit left. “Would you do it again?”

Satoshi didn’t hesitate. “In a heartbeat.”

He looked startled a moment before smiling. “I think I need to lie down now...”

“I should get going.” Satoshi set aside his mostly untouched glass and stood, thankful he’d barely consumed a full glass.

“You shouldn’t be driving.” Daisuke swayed as he stood, frowning as he tried to grab hold of Satoshi.

Satoshi shifted, catching Daisuke before he could fall on his face. “I’m fine. I’m more worried about you getting safely to bed.” It took a few tries to get Daisuke steady enough to trust letting him go, watching as he stumbled towards the hall.

When he reached it, Daisuke turned and leaned against the wall. “Are you going to disappear again?”

He should say yes. He knew he was capable of screwing up Daisuke’s life without trying. The fact he knew he’d be unable to keep from trying... “No.”

The fearful hope on Daisuke’s face turned to relief. “Good... Good. Goodnight, Hiwatari-kun.”

“Goodnight, Niwa.” He stepped past Daisuke, wanting to touch his shoulder like Riku had. He refrained. By the time he reached his car, he knew he’d be inviting Daisuke to the art exhibit the following afternoon.