Disclaimers: I don't own Digimon, yada, yada, yada.
Child's Play
On some
subconscience level, he considered them to be the closest thing he had to
friends, these children he played with.
Not like on his soccer team, that was about impressing people and making
them see how much better he was than them.
Because maybe if they believed it, he would too and then life would have
some sort of meaning. And he wouldn't
be the one that fate cruelly left
there. And maybe if they knew he was
better than them, he would be worth something.
But
these children...they were almost his friends, he could almost see himself
liking them, he could perhaps even care about them someday. They were not as good as him, of course, not
really worthy of being his friends, which is why they weren't. They were the children he played with. They called themselves chosen, he called
them a variety of unflattering names.
In jest, of course. And they
would pretend to get mad and their monsters would fight his monsters and they
would win because he never sent out his strongest monsters. Because on some subconscience level, he was
afraid he might hurt them. And if he
hurt them, they wouldn't want to play with him anymore. And if they didn't want to play then he
wouldn't have any friends or almost-friends.
He would be alone again and he didn't want that.
Of
course, he tried to convince himself he did, because no one was worthy of
him. Because he was better than
them. Not that he believed it, not
really. He thought he did, when his
defenses were 'up.' But when they were
'down,' he knew the truth. He knew no
one cared about him. He knew he was a
bad person. He knew people liked to use
him. He knew his mother and father
didn't love him. He knew the only
person who ever loved him was the only person he could ever almost hate. But never completely hate because he just loved his big brother
too much. He still killed him,
though. He didn't mean to, but he
did.
So he
was alone for a long time and hated himself for a long time, until one day he
decided he was better than them. He
didn't really remember what it was than brought about that revelation. He had dreams about it though,
sometimes. Something about his neck... He never remembered those dreams for very
long...
But he
was better than them, so he hated them because hating them is easier than
hating yourself and it hurts a lot less when you look in the mirror, too.
He
didn't hate everything, only himself, really.
He liked to play, soccer and computer games...and he liked math and
problem solving a lot, he thought that was fun. His favorite computer game was the one he played with the
children who called themselves chosen and were almost his friends. In that game, there were lots of monsters
and he would catch the monsters and put rings on them. And then they were his monsters. He would make them do things like build his
towers and fight for him. He would whip
them when he got mad--it made him feel better, a good tension releaser.
He
could take out all his pain on someone and no one would get hurt! He didn't want to hurt people. He knew pain better than anyone and didn't
want to make someone else hurt. Leaving
home was easy, no one cared that he left.
But these monsters..these monsters weren't real! So he could take his pain out on them a lot
and no one would get hurt and he would feel a little better. Which was good, so very good because he
hurt so bad...
Anyway,
the other children would try to free his monsters and take them away. He didn't like that at all. Twice, he tried to take their monsters away,
see how much they liked it. An Agumon
and a Patamon. They didn't learn their
lesson, they kept trying to take his monsters away.
His favorite
monster was a green and pink and purple one.
It was called a Wormmon and he felt so silly about being so attached to
a computer monster that wasn't real. So
he hated his favorite monster because hating was easier than feeling so stupid
for liking the thing so much.
Hating
was easy.
He
could make himself hate anything.
Only,
the things he hated the most were the things he really loved the most and he
would continue like that until he learned that he was worth something.
On some
subconscious level, he knew that the green and pink and purple monster knew
that.
On some
subconscious level, he knew his almost-friends didn't know that and that's
really why they weren't his friends, only almost.
**********************
Inoue
Miyako could kick herself for being so stupid.
The Chosen Children had traveled to the Digital World that day just like
any other. And just like any other,
they got into a battle with a slave of the Digimon Kaiser. He made his appearance, they all yelled at
each other, sent their digimon to fight--Miyako had used Shurimon today, just
for a change of pace--and then she and the other children won. They had a bit of extra time today so they
decided to clean the battle damaged area up as best they could. Nothing they hadn't done before.
Miyako
had had a particularly bad day prior to coming to the Digital World (lost her
temper, made a fool of herself, was rediculed by classmates...), so in the name
of self-improvment, she decided that she would be the good, caring one today. She volunteered to fetch everyone sodas from
a vending machine near by, and rather ungraciously turned down Hawkmon and
Hikari's offers to help her carry the drinks despite the little detail that
carry ten sodas by one's self was quite a difficult task. Being the good, caring one meant that you
didn't inconvenience anyone but yourself, after all.
Thus,
Miyako went off, alone, her backpack emptied for can-carrying convience and
after being confronted by one of the Kaiser's slaves without any protection,
she could kick herself for being so stupid.
She spat unflattering remarks at the poor digimon at first, then
collapsed into waterfall tears and finally tried to reason with him. After all, she as a Chosen Child was only in
the Digital World in the first place to help.
Not a single one of her reactions make an impression on the Kaiser's
slave and she was brought before him.
Despite
the butterflies wreaking havoc in her stomach and the fear that she might soil
herself, Miyako managed to maintain defiance in her eyes and a scowl on her
face when she came face to face with the enemy. It was the first time she had been so close to him and she was a
little surprised at how unintimidaiting
he was up close.
"This
way," he said to the ringed digimon who had mantained a tight hold on Miyako
throughout her latest ordeal. She
became infuriated that the Kaiser didn't even bother speaking to her and made
that quite obvious during their trek, him in front, followed closely by herself
pushed along by the ringed creature.
The destination the Kaiser had in mind was a room with about a dozen
screens of various sizes and Miyako was rather impressed when they
arrived. The Kaiser was rather pleased
that he had impressed her, but it was only a passing notion, one that he even didn't
bother to acknowledge.
"Here,"
he said to the digimon, pausing in front of one of the lower screens. The slave obeyed and ceased movement,
holding Miyako in place at the designated spot. The Kaiser reached into the folds of his slitted cape, causing
Miyako's breath to catch in her throat from fear. What was he getting? A
dark ring..? His whip..?
His
black D-3.
"Digital
Gate, open," he demanded. The next
thing Miyako knew, she had tumbled face first into blue carpeting. Snickering erupted from somewhere above
her. Miyako raised her eyes and saw a
pair of black semi-dress shoes. Craning
her neck, she saw those shoes were attached to a pair of gray clad legs and in
turn to a gray clad torso and finally the head of Ichijouji Ken, who was looking
down at her from a standing position, his hands jammed into the pockets of his
school uniform. His outfit, neat hair
and haughty expression reminded Miyako of those news reports about the missing
genius that she had watched so closely, usually hugging one of the couch throw
pillows.
"You
came back to the Real World," Miyako accused, standing up. He wasn't too much taller than her, so she
was able to look him in those gorgeous eyes of his without too much trouble. "Someone's going to catch you for sure." She grinned. The Kaiser had made a mistake, a big one.
"My
parents," he said in a bored voice, "are not home. My father is at work and my mother always runs errands at this
time of day. Be assured, there is no
one here to 'catch' me."
"Great,"
Miyako said with a tone that clearly meant the situation was anything but. Ken took her by the elbow and roughly led
her out of his room, away from the relative safety of the digital gate.
"You're D-3," Ken said,
suddenly, ceasing the his stride and holding out his free hand.
"What..?"
Miyako managed to croak.
"You're
D-3," he repeated. "Give it to me. Now."
"No
way!" Miyako exploded.
"Look,"
the boy said, annoyed, "I'm a black belt in Judo. Do you really want to force me to use that knowledge?"
"Uh,
you know what? No," Miyako said flatly.
She found herself being shoved against the wall, the sneering face of
Ichijouji Ken the only thing in her vision.
He had a tight grip on her collar, enough to make his knuckles
white. One hand kept a his hold on her
while the other reached into the front pockets of her denim capri pants. Miyako held perfectly still with no where to
go, her body held against the wall, blushing profusely. With a victorious grin, Ken was able to
snatch away Miyako's D-3.
His
prize claimed, the indigo-haired tyrant of another world opened the front door
of the apartment that they had paused in front of and unceremoniously shoved
Miyako out, slamming the it shut after her.
It
dawned on Miyako that without her D-3, she had no way of returning to the
Digital World.
"Hey!"
she cried, beating her hands on the door.
"Ken! Let me in! Give it back!"
"You
lost!" was the muffled reply from the other side of the door.
"Ken!"
Miyako screiched, "Give it back!" Her
pounding on the door increased in volume and speed.
The
door opened, causing her to jump back.
She hadn't expected him to listen to her. Though she was surprised no neighbors had come out of their own
apartments to see what the rukus was and sadly shake their heads in pity as one
of 'the Rocket's' fans took the lost a bit too hard. As for the crack between
the door and it's frame, the opening was not large, only about two
inches or so, limited by the little chain lock.
"You
know," Ken said in a soft voice that Miyako had never heard him use before,
"you can always play again next game."
He shrugged, something Miyako could barely see through the slight
opening. "Maybe we'll even be on the
same team." He hadn't been on the same
team with anyone since Ryo. "That would
be fun, wouldn't it?" He had liked
being on a team, he recalled.
Miyako
blinked, her expression blank and confused.
Ken closed the door.
Maybe
if he was on their team, the children would be his friends and not just his
almost-friends. On some subconscious
level, he knew he would like to be real friends with those children he played
with.
