AN: This is the first fic I've decided to post here. Check it out if you want. Review it if you want, if not, that's ok, doesn't really matter. It's just something I have to write. The time line is as accurate as I can interpret it. Peace. The Writer.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Digimon logo or any of the characters pertaining to the series. I only own the "original" story line, the original characters and anything else out of the ordinary. The Writer.
Chronicles of a Forsaken One
"Session 1" -Painful Memories-
August 27, 2004….
"The flow of life continues"
He caught her off guard but he was sure she had heard him, they were both sitting on a park bench, watching the children play. They were both dressed completely in black suits with white shirts, black monochrome ties and government-style shades. Their features were strikingly familiar, silver hair, fair skinned and young. Anyone could have easily mistaken them for siblings. They were out of place, as opposed to the caring mothers and fathers who were at the park with their younger children. The park was a park like any other, surrounded by apartment buildings in nearly all directions.
"That's an odd thing to say" she replied
"Why do you say that?"
"Technically, we're not even alive"
"Only technically" he replied, as he focused on a pair of kids playing in the park. In the distance, he could observe a young boy with brown, spiky hair that shot out everywhere. At his side there was a young girl with wild orange hair. It was a very familiar scene.
"I don't feel alive" she said out of nowhere
"Of course you don't, we don't feel, remember?"
"I try not to" she replied
"Look at that" he said, changing the conversation
"At what?"
"That, over there"
"That looks familiar"
"Yeah" he replied as he took out a stick of gum from his jacket pocket and began to chew it furiously.
"Trying to quit?"
"You know I am..." he replied as he continued to chew
She smirked.
He shot a look at her.
"What?" he asked, with a grin on his face
"I've never seen you quit anything"
"I'm no good at quitting"
"I know" she said very smugly
He spit the gum out of his mouth and as it landed on the ground, he took out an old, worn out Zippo. He opened and lit it up in one smooth motion; clearly he had practice at this. He reached once again into his jacket pocket to pull out an old carton of cigarettes.
She smirked again.
He caught it.
"Why do you do that?" she asked
"Do what?"
"That…flick your lighter on and then take out the cigarette?"
"What do you mean?"
"Most people I know do it the other way around"
"I'm not 'most people you know' " he responded without once taking his eyes off the flame.
"Come on, tell me" she said
"I don't need a reason, I just do" he responded, without taking his eyes off the flame
"You're in a trance"
"I'm not"
"You are"
"I'm not"
"You are"
He sighed, he was clearly exasperated. She grinned. He caught it.
"So...are you gonna tell me?"
"No"
"You have a reason for doing it like that" she stated
"It's just something I do, there's no rational answer to it" he responded, not taking his eyes off the flame.
"You are the personification of reason"
"It's a habit of mine, that's all" he responded. He took out a cigarette with his free hand, without once taking his eyes off the flame. He liked the flame. He placed it in his mouth and moved the lighter closer to him, he was shaking; he needed the nicotine bad.
"Hey, look" she said
His head turned, the cigarette missing the flame by a few centimeters.
"What?" he asked
"Soccer ball"
"Ok"
They looked up to see, a few feet in the distance, stood the children they had been watching, the boy with the spiky hair, with the red-haired girl right behind him, hanging onto his shoulders. She smelled like fear.
"Excuse me, miss?" said the little girl from behind the young boy.
She focused her gaze on them both now. They were about 8 or 9 years old. She knew that.
"Yes?" she responded
"Can we get our ball back?" she asked
"This is your ball?" he asked, he was curious as to which one of them would answer.
"Yeah, actually it's our ball" said the boy
They stood there. The kids said nothing. The strangers in black were silent as well.
He turned around to look at her, never once taking his eyes off the kids.
He nodded.
She tossed the ball at the kids.
He turned his lighter off and then flicked it back on with the same, smooth motion. Again, he moved it close to his face.
"You know, smoking is bad for you"
He looked up again and saw the boy with a huge grin on his face. The little girl was now holding the ball.
"Who told you that?" he asked
"My mom" he responded proudly, putting his arms on his waist. The little girl smirked at his actions
"Your mom?" he asked again
"Yup"
He sighed.
"Good advice" he responded "you know you should never smoke, right kids?"
"Yup" they both said at the same time
He turned the lighter off. Clearly he wasn't about to smoke in front of the kids. He grabbed the cigarette from his mouth and stashed it into his coat jacket again. He would smoke it later.
"You wanna play with us?" asked the girl with a smile on her face. He couldn't tell whether it was genuine or not. That's why he didn't like kids. It was harder to read them than adults. Adults have a more clear intention of what they want. Kids are a mystery. They have no intention, no desire in the grand scheme of things.
He turned to look at his companion.
She did the same.
He looked at his watch. It read 2.40 p.m.
"Ok" he responded "but only for a little while"
The strangers stood up and took off their suit jackets, placing them neatly folded on the bench. They loosened their ties and followed the children. They began to kick the ball around forming an odd square. First to the young boy, then to the young man, then he would kick it to his companion, then she would dribble it to the red-head, and the cycle would repeat itself. They would vary their little tricks, sometimes maintaining the ball up in the air or using their head. The young man would make a lot of mistakes, the others would laugh, he would smile, clearly, it had been awhile. As he continued to play with the kids, an image flashed through his head
'...2.55 p.m...'
He stopped juggling the ball and it hit the ground.
"What's wrong?" asked his companion
He glanced at his watch. '2.55 p.m', just like the image in his head.
"We have to go" he said coldly.
"Why?" asked the spiky hair boy
"Those are the breaks, I'm afraid" responded the young woman.
He picked up the ball and gave it to the boy's companion. They began walking back to the bench. Their coats, still neatly folded, awaited the return of their owners. They grabbed their respective jackets and made their way to the sidewalk.
"Good bye" said the little girl.
The young lady turned around and waved good bye at them.
They walked side by side, silently for a while; she looked at her wristwatch, a fancy, futuristic looking Bvlgari. She decided to break the silence,
"Are you nervous?"
He turned his head to look at her. His stare lingered a little too long.
"Ok, bad question" she said
"No, it's an excellent question" he said and continued his little saunter
"So?"
"So?"
"Are you going to tell me?"
"No"
"No?"
"No" he repeated, with a smile on his face
"It isn't fair, you know, I can't read you as well as you can read me"
"Those are the breaks" he said, still smiling.
She grunted or made a sound, he wasn't really sure what she had done.
"Yes"
"Yes, what?" she said.
"Whenever I have to end a life, I get nervous"
"End a life?" she asked
"You know what I mean"
"Nervous isn't exactly the word I would use to describe you"
"I know" he said, once again with a smile on his face
"So, you get nervous whenever you have to end a life?"
"Yes" he answered calmly "Taking a life, however, well, that's another story..."
"...For another time, I'm sure" she said completing his sentence
They both smiled and continued to walk, this time a little slower than those around them.
"He's not strong enough, you know" he said out of the blue
"He's the strongest"
"I know" he replied
"He has all the qualities we desire, everything that makes him worth saving"
"That's the definition of irony"
"I know" she said, smiling
"See, that I don't understand" she said
"What don't you understand?" he said
"He's the strongest, he matches the profile, yet I get a feeling you're against this" she responded
"I am against this"
"Why?"
"He has motivation, he has a reason, he still thinks he can survive"
"He's a mortal fool, just like the rest of them" she said
"You know, it's only at the moment of death when people realize that they are going to die"
"I know" she said
"Human beings are so full of hope, they think they are so special"
She nodded and allowed him to continue,
"It is only once they realize that their pitiful and meaningless existence has been for nothing that they lose hope" he said "It is once they understand that there is no one out there to save them, this moment, that is the culmination of their lives, the understanding that they never made a difference, the comprehension that they will never be remembered and the choice: that is all that matters, the choice, once made, the decision cannot be reversed. That is the nature of humanity"
"Emptiness?"
"No, it is the search for a purpose and the understanding...that they have none"
"We have a purpose" she said
"We are not human" he responded
"I know that"
With these words spoken the conversation ended once again and they continued walking endlessly down the road.
"Why do you think he's still alive?" she asked out of nowhere
"Honestly?"
"Honestly"
"I have no idea" he said serenely.
"No speculations?"
"No speculations"
"He should be dead" she said.
"I know"
"He's not"
"I know"
"Well?" she asked
"Maybe he's happy, maybe he hasn't hit the wall yet"
"He's out of time"
He sighed.
"Ask Richard why, not me"
"He doesn't know"
"He knows everything" he said
"Not this" she replied with a smile on his face
"He'll hit the wall, he'll see the futility in his life. He knows of his future. All we need is the acceptance of said future and the desire" he said, as if to answer her question
"Desire?"
"Yes, desire" he said
"Desire for what?" she asked
"Change" he responded
"Look" she said, and eyed their subjects
"There they are" he acknowledged
"Should we follow them?"
"There's no reason to do that" he said "We know where they live and we know how to find them"
She looked at them, they looked sickly in appearance, their spirits down, their hope dwindling, their light slowly dying...
"We must look pretty weird to them" she said again
"How do you know they've noticed us?"
"Gut feeling" she replied
He smiled.
"Yeah, I think we are weird, after all, humans fear what they don't understand" he said
She nodded, agreeing with him.
"He'll have his epiphany when the time is right"
"It better be soon, for his sake" she said
"Let's keep going, we have to get home"
"What home?"
"Right" he said, realizing the mistake he had just made.
They continued to walk and soon, their subjects had disappeared from their view...
Across the streets from our mysterious strangers, were the digi-destined of light and hope, just walking down the street from another day in school. The sky was ablaze in orange embers, and traffic was light around this part of the neighborhood. They walked silently, each listening to the sounds that their shoes made as they hit the sidewalk.
"So, how is he?"
"What do you mean, 'how is he?'" she asked
"You know what I mean"
"He's not dead, if that's what you're asking"
"Don't do this"
"Do what?"
"I just want to talk"
"So talk"
"Are you going to talk back?" he asked, aware of the coming answer
"No" she said frigidly.
He continued to walk alongside her, in the silence, thinking.
She sighed.
"I'm sorry, TK, you didn't deserve that" she said
"It's ok, I mean, it's been so hard for all of us"
"Yeah" she said
"I know that there is no way I can understand what you're going through"
She turned to look at him as he spoke,
"We all need someone to lean on"
"That...was so lame, TK" she said giggling
He smiled. At least, he had made her smiled. She hadn't smiled like that in a long time.
"Just talk to me please"
She nodded.
"There's nothing to say, T.K. My brother is ill and there's nothing I can do"
"Do you have any sort of hope that he will get better? That the drugs will work?" he asked, but immediately regretted.
She walked silently for a while, then said,
"Hope is your department, T.K, not mine"
"I see" he said dejectedly.
"I can still remember it" she went on "It seems like such a long time ago, but I remember that day. The day we went to the doctor. My brother was so scared. He thought he was finally going crazy. In a way, that would have been a relief"
"A relief?" asked T.K
"It isn't fair, T.K. Why him?" she said, turning around to face him.
"I don't know, Kar. I don't know"
"Thousands of people have died from this, and no one knows why"
"We have to believe that the upcoming medical trials will work. We can't give up hope. You think your brother's given up?" he told her.
"I know he has…he gave up a long time ago"
With this final outburst, they continued walking, this time in silence.
'Kari, what's happened to you? Where's your optimism, your spirit? Has it really gone away like the others, please believe, believe and it will happen. I know it's a lot to ask, but I know you can. You'll see; things will get better'.
How he yearned to speak these words to her. It was hopeless, though. He knew that. She had given up too. "Hope is your department", that's what she'd told him just moments ago. He continued to walk, occasionally stealing a peek at her face. He remembered the way she was just a few years ago. She was loving, kind, and caring. She was still all those great things, inside. She was about to be stripped from the one thing she cared most about and all he could do was watch.
He remembered the day he was told just exactly what Tai's ailment was. If one could call it that. It's more of a cosmic joke really, a complete degradation of the mind. A never-ending vision, a distortion of reality. There was no way to describe it. No way to diagnose it. No way to stop it. Six months, that was the life expectancy of the patient, if he/she made it to the end. Some visions, some nightmares were so vivid, the patients ended up committing suicide. Then there were the voices; "like a train station full of people in your head", that's what Tai once said about them. Regular medications did nothing to appease them. The patients would go weeks without sleeping with no apparent symptoms. This had most doctors and researchers baffled. The loss of perception greatly affected the patients; they could no longer speak, nor recognize their loved ones. The increases in creativity, intelligence, and strength also had no evident explanations. After the 4th month, the weak electromagnetic pulse created by the body went haywire, interfering with the electronic equipment at most hospitals. It interfered with everything, even light. That didn't seem to matter to most patients, though. They preferred the dark. At 5th month, they underwent drastic changes in their appearance. Their hair became white for no apparent reason, their skin tone changed drastically, resulting in most patients becoming a ghostly shade of white. Their skin became hypersensitive to touch and light. All of these changes occurred to the poor miserable souls who entered the 5th month. There was no way to comfort them. Of course, these were just the most obvious symptoms, this "disease" affected ever patient differently, so there was no way to attack it effectively.
He ceased to swim in his sea of thoughts and realized they were nearly at Kari's place. He stole another look. She looked the same, troubled, tired, and overall, depressed.
"Do you want to know something" she said out of nowhere.
"What?"
"It's our fault"
"What?!"
"That's what he told me the other day. It was our fault. We went into the digital world. We brought this curse onto the world. We're responsible" she said.
"You can't really believe that, Kari" he said.
"I don't know what to believe anymore, T.K"
"The first person to die from this was a boy, Kari, an 8-year old boy, named…"
"…James Carver" she said, cutting him off. "I know, that's why it's called JCS"
"He died in '96, Kar. That was years before we were ever went in" said T.K.
"It's not our fault" he told her
"We don't really know that"
"It's not!" said T.K, startling her,
"Say it with me" he told her
"It's not our fault" they said in unison.
"Good" he told her, "I hope you believe it"
She said nothing to this. They had already reach her place.
"T.K?"
"Yes, Kari?"
"Thank you for trying to cheer me up"
"It's what I do" he said with a smile.
She smiled too.
"See you tomorrow, T.K"
"Tomorrow, Kari"
With this, she went up. He would have followed her, but he knew she had her brother to attend to. It's been months since he was alone with her, truly alone. Her brother was always in her mind now. He went his own way now, headed for home. As he walked, he felt the cold chill associated with danger, with death. He turned around and looked at his surroundings. Not a soul to be found. That was odd, he had the strangest feeling he was being followed. Nevertheless, he went on home…
AN: That's the first session for you. There'll be more, whether you review or not. Any constructive criticism is appreciated, but it's not required. The story goes on, anyway, I'll update as soon as I finish the second session. Till then, The Writer.