A/N= This is going to be very particular. This will eventually contain DaiKaiser, and Pieotismon. *nods* Hints of DeviAnge will spring around in one of the next chapters, and I'm torn between Takari and Miyakari – as well as I can't decide between Iokeru and Angekeru. We'll see. Suggestions are welcome, though. ^^v
Rating = PG13, for eventual violence, swearing words and that kind of stuff.
Summary = If love doesn't born spontaneously, it could be injected in your body, like a virus, to make you forget any other affect you had in honour of this one love. But in the end, can exist a love that's forced? And can really a love be eclipsed by another so easily?
Disclaimer = Digimon, its characters and situations are not mine. I'm just using them in one of my stories.
ValhallaEndless, grassy fields drowning in golden sunlight embraced the village. The crystalline blue sky and countless racing clouds glowed overhead. A small meandering stream split the nearby forest, providing water and fun games the baby digimon could play with.
Rosy cubes reared up around of the circular grassy field he had come to regard as his world. The sunlight never scorched there, but flooded the village gently. The wind never blew too hard, or was too cold. Weather was always forgiving, the air always dripping a sweet scent of flowers, and carrying the crystalline sound of a little stream gurgling in the near distance. That was Paradise. For him, that's what it was.
The sound of the newborn Botamon's soft giggle glided through the air like the sound of a crystal flute, sweet and shooting. At noon all his brothers and sisters had congregated in the central square to eat and play, a daily ritual the Botamon was delighted to discover and accomplish. Scurrying about the streets of Primary Village in an endless game of hide and seek, the Botamon and his digital siblings laughed happily, under the watchful eye of Elecmon.
The blackish little digimon had never been out of the comforting quietude of Hajimeru no Machi, and he did not intend to. Why should he? He knew, of course, that in a few years from now, when he would be able to reach his Rookie stage he would have to leave, but that was a far problem now. Something that couldn't shadow the brilliance of such a blissful day when, in fact, nothing could.
Right?
Right?
Wrong.
Deadly wrong.
There was a sudden explosion then, high, loud, and terrifying, and the village was suddenly flooded by flames. The Botamon, exhausted from his game of tag, was resting in the umbra of a tree, drowsily watching as a young brother tried enthusiastically to leap to the sun, when the first pilaster of cubes collapsed. And then the flames, the hungry flames, came, licking at his shivering form. He could feel the heat all around him, and could smell an unpleasant acrid odour. Unfamiliar. Disgusting. Scent of burnt flesh.
With a mute scream, he bounced up, seeking comfort in the closeness of another newborn. And the two could just tremble, like leafs fooled around by the cruellest hurricane, as the flames grew, destroying what had been their happiness- what had been their world.
Millions of burnt particles engaged a spectral skywards dance, highlighted by the ginger array of colours leaking from the firestorm. Screams filled the air, and the symphony of terror was punctuated every now and then by the sick, twisted laughs of their attacker. Higher the flames grew, louder the screams became and more sickening the insane laughter got. What was that? The digimon asked himself in terror. Why would anyone dare disturb his home? Wasn't it sacred? Wasn't it special, even to evil digimon?
Through the commotion, Elecmon's voice could be heard every now and then, as he tried to soothe the babies or shouted them to follow him toward safety. There was such thing as safety, the little Botamon wondered as he was hauled forward, widening his mouth in a mute scream when he was divided from his friend. Suddenly, the Botamon found himself nestled in Elecmon's arms, and unconsciously nuzzled closer to the older digimon, seeking shelter. He felt suddenly drowsy, safe, despite being still circled by flames, and when his lids began to heavy, he did not try to fight sleep.
Elecmon hugged Botamon to his chest and inhaled the natural delicate perfume of freshly bloomed lilac and honey only babies have. That minute creature was like a bundle of softness in his embrace. He represented everything he had to protect. And although no one might have given him such hard task to accomplish, Elecmon would always do his best to protect his children. Giving out a deep sight, Elecmon resumed to run toward the temporary safety of the borders of the village, almost tripping in his haste.
The Elecmon and the little burden he kept came to stop on the steps leading out the town, where all the baby digimon were huddled in a group. Swiftly, the guardian of the primary village began counting all the cubs, and tried nothing to hide his relief when he found everyone was there and untouched. A small female next to him started whimpering, and Elecmon patted her head gently, letting her rub herself against his leg.
Then, faintly they heard the wicked laughing come gradually closer, tensing Elecmon to a defensive stance. With nervous anticipation he tried to discover the source of the sound in the flames, and when he did, he could do nothing but tighten his arms protectively around the little Botamon.
In his dreamy sleepiness the blackish newborn was not ready for Elecmon's chest to vibrate with a shout and fully bring him back to awareness, though. So, when it happened, the Botamon jumped, shuddering slightly against Elecmon's body.
"Who're you and what are you seeking here?"
"Surrender Myotismon's digiegg now, or you'll pay the consequences." The laughing voice replied, making the Botamon shiver.
Startled, Elecmon blinked, reeling backward slightly. There was absolute silence for a moment.
"Myotismon's digiegg…?"
"Exactly what I said." The figure repeated as it emerged from the firestorm, adorned by flickers of ginger and gold. The Megadramon roared warily as it loomed from the remains of the village, and his master chuckled evilly at the unpleasant sound.
Elecmon's ocean blue eyes narrowed dangerously, and he clutched the Botamon even closer to his chest. The little newborn shivered, and twisted his head around as he blinked free his sleep veiled eyes. Eyes that widened at the sight of the master of Clowns riding such a hellish creature. Scared, the Botamon looked up at to his protector who, anyway, ignored his silent plea for comfort.
"Piedmon." Was what he said instead.
"Elecmon." The master of clowns replied with a little bow, smirking evilly to his audience. When he straightened back up, the clown crossed his arms across his chest, a look of wickedness twisting his painted face. "Give me Myotismon's egg. Now."
"That egg's not here." Elecmon answered, his voice trembling but raw with honesty. What did he have to gain lying to Piedmon after all? Nothing. And what did he had to gain not lying to him? The babies' lives. Piedmon wasn't going to accept *that* as an answer, though. Or maybe he simply did not like it. His eyes lowered to slits, his face void of any expression.
"It must be."
Feeling fear bloom in his chest, Elecmon shook his head, hugging the Botamon even closer in his worry.
"No, it isn't--"
"IT MUST BE!" Piedmon shouted, and with a flicker of his arm send two other MegaDramon to throw flames out over the village.
"Stop it!" Elecmon cried, frantic, looking in all directions at once. Fire was closing in on them, and as the heat increased, so did the cries of the babies. "*Stop* it!"
"Give me the egg!!"
"It is not here!" Elecmon cried, feeling tears rolling down his cheeks. "It is not!"
Piedmon lowered his arm, and the attack stopped at once, making the guardian of the village of reborn suck in a shuddering breath and hold it. "Every digimon that's deleted is reconfigured and sent here as a digiegg," the clown stated, raising a painted eyebrow as the Elecmon nodded meekly. "Then why the one I'm searching for is not here?"
"I don't know." Elecmon murmured, lowering his eyes to the ground. "I can only tell you that, if it was here, I would sense it."
"Oh."
"I can't sense Myotismon's presence. It can mean only one thing: that his digiegg is not here."
"Oh."
"It… it was, though!" the Elecmon hurried to add, licking his lips swiftly. "But it… got lost. Probably, due to the commotion started when the digidestined were summoned back here to stop the self-proclaimed Emperor."
"Oh."
Again the was a breathless pause, in which the fire could cry as loud as it pleased.
"He's not here, and you've no ways to find him, then." The face hidden beneath the white paint remained blank, but a smirk blossomed in stark contrast, bright crimson against alabaster, marring the otherwise pristine color of the clown's visage.
"…I… n-no, but… Piedmon have mercy, please. Stop--" Elecmon stopped in mid sentence as he heard a scream explode behind him.
"You're no use to me, then." Piedmon laughed, evil in its pure essence.
Elecmon whipped around, mouth agape, as a figure grabbed him from behind.
In his arms, the Botamon began to cry.
* * * * *
Daisuke Motomiya awoke suddenly, eyes wide, chest heaving with jogged gasps. He whipped around, scrutinizing the darkness, until, suddenly, he saw where he was. And it was where he was supposed to be. His room. His home. The Real world.
//It was just a dream. Just a dream…// He repeated himself as he placed a hand over his chest, trying to coerce his heartbeat back into a resemblance of a normal rhythm.
He laid back down, lips parted as he gasped forcefully, cold sweat dripping down his pale face. All he could hear was the sound of his briskly breathing and the soft snoring of the small Digimon beside him. Moonlight spilled from the window, as Daisuke looked through it at the plump sky and suddenly, everything was back to normal. Suddenly, he felt safe.
"Dais'ke?", a small voice asked. Daisuke looked down, and saw his digital partner tugging timidly at his sleeve, smiling hesitantly up at him. The brown haired boy opened his arms to his little friend, and between seconds Chibimon was on the boy's lap, blinking up at him worriedly. "Are you okay, Dais'ke?"
Numbly, the boy nodded, reaching down to scratch Chibimon behind his hear.
"Fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive." The boy nodded, doing his best not to shudder at the memory of his nightmare. Frowning slightly, the little digimon lowered his ears, shoving out his bottom lip. Somehow, that answer tasted fake, and Chibimon decided immediately he did not like that sour flavor coating his mouth.
"Are you thinking about him again?" Startled, Daisuke looked up, curling his fingers in his sheets. Paling, he sucked in a shuddering breath, swallowing soundly before answering.
"W-Who?"
Pleased with himself for catching the quiver in his partner voice, and nodding fervently, Chibimon leaned forward slightly, fidgeting in his excitement.
"KEN!!!" Reeling backward with a gulp, Daisuke felt his cheek tinge, and thanked every deity he knew for the darkness enveloping them.
"Ehm… no…"
Bouncing, Chibimon hopped onto Daisuke's knees, face flushed as he tripped on his own words in his hurry to let them out.
"You are! You are! I saw how you looked at him when he looked at you after he took off his glasses, and since we came back you always get lost thinking with your eyes all shiny, like you do when Hikari's there, but Hikari wasn't there, so you hadda be thinking 'bout Ken!"
Earlier that week the Digimon Emperor, their dreaded enemy, had told Daisuke who he was: Ken Ichijouji. Ken Ichijouji, his idol. Ken Ichijouji, the one he respected the most. Ken Ichijouji, the one with the most amazing amethyst eyes and shiny violet hair. Ken Ichijouji, the one Daisuke wanted to confront and yet looked up to. Ken Ichijouji, the one who had been contaminated by the darkness of the dark Ocean. Ken Ichijouji, the one they had to hurt in order to accomplish their mission.
Gods… even thinking about that made him nearly crazy. Rubbing his forehead tiredly, Daisuke looked away prior to speaking again, trying his best to sound confident and failing miserably all the same.
Thank god for the darkness, he thought again, that's hiding my face. Or else Chibimon would immediately…
"I just had… a bad dream, that's all." Daisuke started to gulp sharply, but caught himself before the sob could work its way out his throat. Frowning to the world, Chibimon nodded again, nuzzling against Daisuke as his mind raced to find evidences to prove him right.
Cuddling his partner gently, Daisuke couldn't suppress a shiver, his head spinning slightly as he thought the wall were closing in on him. Chibimon paid no heed to that luckily, regarding it as something caused by the coldness.
//Everything is fine. Everything is normal… that was only a dream, only a dream…// Shuddering, Daisuke turned his head and glanced up at his desk, where his D-Terminal resided. He could call Miyako. Yeah. She would listen to him, and not tell him he was crazy. She'd understand. She always did. And he was needing to be understood right then, he decided as he reached up to his digital device. After that horrid dream, in that damned chamber, in that cursed castle. And then in that fucking battle, and then again up it the air, over the city. And with so much blood and… and… that… creature he… he…
Shaking his head clear, Daisuke was suddenly forced back to reality when his D-Terminal began beeping crazily, awakening his digital companion as well.
"Something's wrong Dais'ke?" Chibimon yawned, rubbing his chubby cheek against the boy's belly. The child of Courage and Friendship's reply was a sharp gasp, eyes going huge as he read the message Miyako –of all people- had sent him.
"Hajimeru no Machi is… and Elecmon… Oh, Gods…" And, with no further explanation, the boy bolted from his bed, grasping his D-3 on his way toward his closet.
//Everything's fine, everything's fine, everything's fine…//
As Daisuke dressed, Chibimon scuttled across the floor, and hopped onto the desk, his big eyes almost glowing in the darkness. In his apprehension, it took the boy no longer than few seconds to find some articles of clothing and throw himself into them. And it was when he snapped his goggles into place on his head that he turned back to his companion.
"Chibimon!" he yelled fiercely. "C'mon. We're going to the Digiworld!"
"Home!" The blue ball of fur squeaked as he jumped into his partner's arms.
"Yeah." The boy muttered lowly as he shambled into the dark corridor. "Home."
As he ran down the streets toward the school, Daisuke couldn't help but mull over his current situation. Lately he'd been having dreams, strange dreams. Nightmares most of the times, but not always. In fact, when he woke up, he couldn't remember much of them, but one thing he was sure of was the dark sense of foreboding those dreams left inside him, and that allowed him to think about them as nightmares.
The parts he couldn't remember clearly of said dreams were just few in truth, but what troubled him was that he could never remember what he was being told in his sleep. Sure, he remembered clearly *who* delivered him these fading messages, and coming from *him*, twined with bloody images, they could be nothing but terrible lies. Or threats, or yells coated with hatred…
Right?
There was no way those messages could be something… different.
Right?
After all, Daisuke had always knew that: *he* had never loved him. Never had, never will. Never.
Shivering softly, Daisuke pushed open the school's gate and tiptoed across the garden to the hallway, before darting silently toward the stairs. Chibimon had often questioned him, but there wasn't really anything Daisuke could say about those dreams.
Frowning, Daisuke carefully limped into the computer lab, nodding silently at his gathered companions as he did, before slouching down onto an empty desk. What could he say after all? Find out the size of straitjacket he wore, maybe? Make a reservation for a padded cell? Daisuke laughed bitterly to himself; maybe he was going crazy.
But the scary thing was that he probably wasn't. There had been an Elecmon in one of his dreams, that night.
--End of chapter 01.