Consciousness
(Musing in the Silence)
Disclaimer - Don't own Digimon, wish I owned Ken.
A/N - I think this is very unlike anything I've ever done. There is no plot to this, it's total ramble, whatever spilled out of my mind first. Enjoy...
Ken didn't like silence. He hated it. It surrounded him, gripped him, consumed him. Ken liked to hear the sounds of someone's voice. Voices could be soft or deep, and they conveyed emotion that sometimes songs could not. He liked voices because they could be manipulated. Words can be so easily corrupted, even when they don't mean to be. Ken liked words and voices. He liked to read, because in truth, reading is not silent. The words dance in your mind, painting pictures, drawing you into a world that is unique to yourself. Ken especially liked Shakespeare, because he had such a way with words, playing them along each other.
When he was little he liked being read to. The best of both worlds. Voices grow on a person, just like a taste or a smell. They become entwined with the listener's own consciousness. One voice in particular sprang to Ken's mind. Ken's mind had corrupted Daisuke's tone so that he no longer heard what was truly spoken. Daisuke's voice wasn't harsh or soft in reality or in Ken's imagination, but they sounded different somehow. Whatever he was talking about, however silly or insignificant, Ken heard Daisuke with a subtle sensuality. There was something incredibly exquisite about the way he spoke. Of course, it hadn't always been like this. Daisuke had sounded child like and almost daft until his teens, then his voice had deepened, and ever since Ken had felt that Daisuke could seduce someone by speech alone.
Ken's trail of thought was broken suddenly by some music reaching his ears. He never listened to his own radio - his mind was enough to keep even a genius occupied - but he could hear a song blaring from the street. He did not get up and look, nor did he try and ignore it. He recognised the song; it was an English one, but he couldn't remember it's name. He had always excelled at languages, and the lyrics translated easily, almost automatically in his mind.
Ah, he remembered now; Silence, that's what it was called. He laughed bitterly. Silence, how appropriate. But the lyrics...they were so strange, but they seemed to make a warped kind of logic. Trapped...the singer felt trapped, overcome by passion, drowned by love. His own state often seemed like that too.
His entire being ached for Daisuke, sometimes so intense it hurt. Not all the time of course; he would be long gone if it were that agonizing all the time. Being around Daisuke made it worse, yet made it better. At first, his heart throbbed; his mind and body yearned to be with the angel before him, the sound of his voice made Ken's world collapse. But then Ken would be drawn, allured into whatever Daisuke was doing, and the pain would be forgotten replaced by pure ecstasy because he was with this person he loved so much.
Ken turned over in his bed. The sheets felt silky smooth beneath him, cool even in the hot day. He knew Daisuke felt like that too, because once, when he was asleep round Ken's house, Ken had stroked his face and breathed in the scent of his hair and ever so softly so as not to wake him up, touched Daisuke's lips with his forefinger. They had felt like petals. They were almost asking to be kissed, but Ken wasn't sure what to do, so he had gone back to bed.
Ken found himself suddenly restless. He rose and crossed his room to go outside. As he opened the French doors, a breeze of cool, fresh air rustled his hair. He leaned on the balcony and looked out to the sunset. It was a beautiful thing...The colours mixed like a pallet, bleeding into one another in an endless surge. It reminded him of Daisuke's eyes, Hikari's as well. They were both a deep mahogany with the slightest hints of gold and red, sparkling when the light splashed them.
Darkness crept onto the balcony. It didn't scare Ken; it never had. Silence, but not darkness. Night brought sleep and sleep brought dreams. Ken liked to dream. It told him his hidden unconscious was still working. Ken wrote down all his dreams on his computer. All his dreams. Some of them were buried away, nearly lost.
C97H
Cloud nine, seventh heaven, the dream file's password. Ken wasn't sure why he wrote those dreams down. He never read them, blocked by his own embarrassment. It was silly really; nothing ever actually happened in them. But still.
Ken climbed back onto his bed. He wondered what Daisuke was doing at this moment. He doubted Daisuke was as lost in thought as he was. He was probably playing games or doing homework or something. Ken imagined he was sitting at his desk, writing slowly in a book (what, he didn't know), and then he would sigh and put the pen down. He would take his coat, call to his parents, then walk down the lonely road to the train station. The train would be practically empty.
Then he would walk some more, as if he was ambling, but no, he had a purpose. He would stride up to Ken's flat, breathe deeply and reach for the doorbell...
Silence.
Another thing to hate about silence.
Ken felt almost disappointed. He had a kind of sixth sense with Daisuke, but it hadn't worked then. They would forever be finishing each others sentences, or saying the same thing at the same time. Everyone laughed when they did that. They often said nothing to each other, because they knew what the other was thinking just by what they looked like. Takeru often joked around, asking them when they were going to get married, and even though both Ken and Daisuke batted him away, there was something in his eyes which shone a truth in his questions.
Takeru had been and endless pillar of strength for Ken. When everything had been so overwhelming, Takeru had brought Ken back to earth gently, listening when Ken spoke, comforting him when he cried. Ken did not feel connected to Takeru and he did to Daisuke, but Takeru seemed to be able to read people's minds, and he always said the right things. Ken was very glad to be his friend.
Ken's body began to feel heavy, his mind going blank. He imagined Daisuke talking to him, to break the silence. He cuddled his covers up into his chest and drifted off to his dreamland, a contented smile playing on his lips. After all, he realised, he had nothing to be afraid of. As he slipped into sleep, he could hear the cars down below, his parents moving around the house, his own heart beat. No, there was never anything to be scared of really.
Because everyone knows, there's no such thing as absolute silence.
(Musing in the Silence)
Disclaimer - Don't own Digimon, wish I owned Ken.
A/N - I think this is very unlike anything I've ever done. There is no plot to this, it's total ramble, whatever spilled out of my mind first. Enjoy...
Ken didn't like silence. He hated it. It surrounded him, gripped him, consumed him. Ken liked to hear the sounds of someone's voice. Voices could be soft or deep, and they conveyed emotion that sometimes songs could not. He liked voices because they could be manipulated. Words can be so easily corrupted, even when they don't mean to be. Ken liked words and voices. He liked to read, because in truth, reading is not silent. The words dance in your mind, painting pictures, drawing you into a world that is unique to yourself. Ken especially liked Shakespeare, because he had such a way with words, playing them along each other.
When he was little he liked being read to. The best of both worlds. Voices grow on a person, just like a taste or a smell. They become entwined with the listener's own consciousness. One voice in particular sprang to Ken's mind. Ken's mind had corrupted Daisuke's tone so that he no longer heard what was truly spoken. Daisuke's voice wasn't harsh or soft in reality or in Ken's imagination, but they sounded different somehow. Whatever he was talking about, however silly or insignificant, Ken heard Daisuke with a subtle sensuality. There was something incredibly exquisite about the way he spoke. Of course, it hadn't always been like this. Daisuke had sounded child like and almost daft until his teens, then his voice had deepened, and ever since Ken had felt that Daisuke could seduce someone by speech alone.
Ken's trail of thought was broken suddenly by some music reaching his ears. He never listened to his own radio - his mind was enough to keep even a genius occupied - but he could hear a song blaring from the street. He did not get up and look, nor did he try and ignore it. He recognised the song; it was an English one, but he couldn't remember it's name. He had always excelled at languages, and the lyrics translated easily, almost automatically in his mind.
Ah, he remembered now; Silence, that's what it was called. He laughed bitterly. Silence, how appropriate. But the lyrics...they were so strange, but they seemed to make a warped kind of logic. Trapped...the singer felt trapped, overcome by passion, drowned by love. His own state often seemed like that too.
His entire being ached for Daisuke, sometimes so intense it hurt. Not all the time of course; he would be long gone if it were that agonizing all the time. Being around Daisuke made it worse, yet made it better. At first, his heart throbbed; his mind and body yearned to be with the angel before him, the sound of his voice made Ken's world collapse. But then Ken would be drawn, allured into whatever Daisuke was doing, and the pain would be forgotten replaced by pure ecstasy because he was with this person he loved so much.
Ken turned over in his bed. The sheets felt silky smooth beneath him, cool even in the hot day. He knew Daisuke felt like that too, because once, when he was asleep round Ken's house, Ken had stroked his face and breathed in the scent of his hair and ever so softly so as not to wake him up, touched Daisuke's lips with his forefinger. They had felt like petals. They were almost asking to be kissed, but Ken wasn't sure what to do, so he had gone back to bed.
Ken found himself suddenly restless. He rose and crossed his room to go outside. As he opened the French doors, a breeze of cool, fresh air rustled his hair. He leaned on the balcony and looked out to the sunset. It was a beautiful thing...The colours mixed like a pallet, bleeding into one another in an endless surge. It reminded him of Daisuke's eyes, Hikari's as well. They were both a deep mahogany with the slightest hints of gold and red, sparkling when the light splashed them.
Darkness crept onto the balcony. It didn't scare Ken; it never had. Silence, but not darkness. Night brought sleep and sleep brought dreams. Ken liked to dream. It told him his hidden unconscious was still working. Ken wrote down all his dreams on his computer. All his dreams. Some of them were buried away, nearly lost.
C97H
Cloud nine, seventh heaven, the dream file's password. Ken wasn't sure why he wrote those dreams down. He never read them, blocked by his own embarrassment. It was silly really; nothing ever actually happened in them. But still.
Ken climbed back onto his bed. He wondered what Daisuke was doing at this moment. He doubted Daisuke was as lost in thought as he was. He was probably playing games or doing homework or something. Ken imagined he was sitting at his desk, writing slowly in a book (what, he didn't know), and then he would sigh and put the pen down. He would take his coat, call to his parents, then walk down the lonely road to the train station. The train would be practically empty.
Then he would walk some more, as if he was ambling, but no, he had a purpose. He would stride up to Ken's flat, breathe deeply and reach for the doorbell...
Silence.
Another thing to hate about silence.
Ken felt almost disappointed. He had a kind of sixth sense with Daisuke, but it hadn't worked then. They would forever be finishing each others sentences, or saying the same thing at the same time. Everyone laughed when they did that. They often said nothing to each other, because they knew what the other was thinking just by what they looked like. Takeru often joked around, asking them when they were going to get married, and even though both Ken and Daisuke batted him away, there was something in his eyes which shone a truth in his questions.
Takeru had been and endless pillar of strength for Ken. When everything had been so overwhelming, Takeru had brought Ken back to earth gently, listening when Ken spoke, comforting him when he cried. Ken did not feel connected to Takeru and he did to Daisuke, but Takeru seemed to be able to read people's minds, and he always said the right things. Ken was very glad to be his friend.
Ken's body began to feel heavy, his mind going blank. He imagined Daisuke talking to him, to break the silence. He cuddled his covers up into his chest and drifted off to his dreamland, a contented smile playing on his lips. After all, he realised, he had nothing to be afraid of. As he slipped into sleep, he could hear the cars down below, his parents moving around the house, his own heart beat. No, there was never anything to be scared of really.
Because everyone knows, there's no such thing as absolute silence.