The candle was playing with light and shadow upon her chest, where her delicate fingers trailed the strange scar splayed across her skin. It had been nearly two months since her encounter with Krad and Dark. She'd seen the scar several times a day every day since then, but still couldn't resist touching the silver, vein-like pattern that spread across her chest and onto the back of her shoulder. Dark had professed thousands of apologies, even tears, as he blamed himself for her wound, but Rika insisted that she remembered nothing, not even pain. There was only light and Dark's scream, which haunted her more than anything else.

A soft rapping at the balcony door made her flinch. She stood up, grabbed the sweater hanging off of the edge of her bed and threw it over her head before walking over to the tall window panes, through which she could see his outline. Rika slowly turned the handle and opened the door for him. Cool air rushed over her skin and an instinctive smile began to tug at her lips. She blinked a few times, realizing he wasn't in his usual black attire. He was in a pair of slim-fitting gray jeans and a collared white shirt, with a rope necklace hanging over his collarbone. Dark smiled back at her.

"Hello, love." He raised a hand to her face, brushing a stray hair out of her eyes. "And how are you this evening?"

Rika could only meekly smile in return. Sensing her apprehension, Dark moved in closer and grabbed her hands firmly within his. "Rika, are you sure this is what you want? Is this what we're doing? For sure?"

"…I worry about Daiki," she mumbled. "I worry that we're stealing his life from him."

"Rika, he's fine, I promise." He ran a hand through his violet locks, smiling out the side of his mouth a little. "Heh, he's more pissed that we haven't left already, to tell the truth."

Rika grinned a little again, then turned away and walked back over to her desk and began fumbling through the drawers.

"But we're not about to do something you don't want to."

She took out a small yellow envelope with the words "mother" and "father" written in perfect cursive script on the front. She thoughtfully ran her fingers over the corners and edges before gently placing it on the top of her desk. "What choice do we have?"

Her voice was so quiet, Dark almost wondered if he had heard her at all.

"Rika, I told you. Daiki and I could find a way to separa—"

"No." She shot him a worried look. "The only reason you exist is because of Daiki. Without being bound to him or his lineage, you disappear. Besides…the magic that brought you here...no one knows how to wield such power anymore. Not even the Hikari."

Dark crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, a small smirk on his face. "Since when did you become such an expert in all things ancient and magical?"

She laughed a little; a sound that allowed Dark's shoulders to relax. "Daiki and I have been doing some research. You were asleep."

Dark looked up out of the corner of his eye, as if talking to some fly on the wall. "Thanks pal. Looks like you and I are stuck together forever."

Rika smiled. Slowly, deliberately she walked towards him, then wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him close. She tried to put names to the ambience of scents that filled her mind; something of cold wind, spice, and the smoky scent of a candle that has just been extinguished.

"You do realize that Krad will still be wherever we go," Dark leaned down to whisper into her ear. "He's not something we can escape."

"Remember when you asked me if I would still love you if you were a monster?" Dark nodded. "Even if Krad is that monster, I still cannot imagine leaving your side. But this place…I do want to leave this place."

With her face buried in his shirt, Rika could only hear a soft rustling as black wings encircled them. Dark's smile, however…she could always see and feel his smile. It was in the way he breathed, the way he gently tightened his grip around her waist, the way he made sure that outer feather always managed to tickle her neck.

"Well then…" he said. "Shall we?"

"My God."

The woman collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs, her hand clasped over her mouth in horror as she read her daughter's note. Her husband, a tall and lean man dressed sharply in a brown suit and tie, paced the hardwood floors with furrowed brows. Night had long since fallen, but only a few candles were lit in the grand dining hall of their home, so shadows were allowed to trespass wherever they pleased.

"I can't believe she'd do something like this," he mumbled. "It's not like her."

"With that Phantom Thief." His wife looked up at him, tears visibly wobbling before they fell. "How could she? Hideaki, we have to do something! She's too young—what if something happens to her?!"

"Relax, Mayu. We'll call the police and file a missing persons report."

"The police? They're not going to do anything if they find out she left of her own accord."

"Then don't tell them she did."

The couple looked up from each other to find Shinji standing in the hallway with a grim look on the half of his face that was lit by candlelight. The other half was barely discernible in the dark.

Hideaki frowned and turned to face the butler of his household. "What do you mean, Shinji?"

The elderly man slowly shuffled towards the table where Mayu was sitting. "The only way you're going to get the police to cooperate in getting Rika back is to convince them that she was actually kidnapped. So we get rid of this evidence—" he picked up the envelope addressed to "mother" and "father" and held it over a candle flame. The paper ignited instantly. "And we make our own."

"That's preposterous!" Mayu stood up. "What evidence do we have?"

"We make it look like a struggle occurred in her bedroom. Overturn the sheets, knock over a chair or two. And for the final touch—" he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a single, solitary black feather, twirling it between his knobby knuckles. The parents exchanged nervous glances. Sensing their apprehension, Shinji added, "This does, of course, depend on how desperately you want your daughter returned to you. On my own behalf, Rika is very near and dear to my heart. As you said, Mrs. Harada, she's too young yet to know the difference between the life she deserves and the life she thinks she wants. The Phantom Thief is exactly that – a thief – and has no doubt filled her mind with fantasies and illusions of the world he could give her. She belongs here. She belongs home."

Tears began falling down Mayu's face again. Her husband watched her grieve for a few brief seconds, then glanced back at Shinji, whose somber expression remain unchanged. Hideaki took a deep breath before walking over to the phone on the wall. With a stern face, he unhinged the ear piece, rotated the round dial of numbers on the wall and waited only two short seconds before he was greeted on the other end of the line.

"Yes, this is Mr. Hideaki Harada. My daughter has been kidnapped."