LATEST EDIT: I merged the prelude with Chapter One, since the prelude might have been off-putting for people looking for a romantic story, with all the Digital World drama and no humans present.
Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.
Notes: This story wont contain any original characters, neither human nor digimon. I am just not a fan of OC's in FanFiction, so don't expect any. This story contains slash (boy/boy) and straight pairings. I reserve the right to change the pairings as I see fit, as well as the rating. For now and the foreseeable future, it will remain T. Anyways, I hope you enjoy my story and if you do (or don't for that matter), please leave a review! As nice as positive reviews can be, constructive criticism is even better, so if you have any of that please share. ^^
Part One – Approaching Darkness
Chapter One- Long Distance Caller
She stands alone at the crosswalk, waiting patiently for the lights to signal a safe passage across the street. She wears a revealing pink tank-top and a pair of yellow-brown shorts. They extend barely a hands width – from middle finger to base of palm – below her waist. The burgundy-haired boy catches up to her and flashes the girl a smile. They make brief eye contact but Daisuke can't help mapping her lightly-tanned body with his eyes. I'm glad Takeru isn't here – he'd totally yell at me for that!
"Hi," Daisuke says with a wide grin on his face.
"Hello Daisuke," Hikari replies, shifting her pink backpack slung across her shoulder to permit a gentle wave.
"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it's nice out."
"Summer break is going to be so awesome this year!" Daisuke carries a backpack of his own. It bulges uncomfortably; all the papers contained are loose or crumpled. Hikari's is neat and tidy, like usual.
"I hope so," she brushes her right bang out of her eyes. The wind's playing with her otherwise orderly hair. It's distinct in that she has two long, pointy sets of bangs falling at either side of her head, and the rest rests flatly on her scalp. "You get my invitation?"
"Taichi's barbeque? I did indeed. Never had his barbeque before," Daisuke's stomach growls at the thought of delicious food. He scratches his messy head of hair. "Sorry ..."
Hikari laughs. "To be honest, neither have I. Expect it to be burnt or something."
"Oh great." Ahead of the pair, two more familiar individuals could be spotted. One has a white bucket hat on his head, a trademark he kept ever since the younger generation's trek to the Digital World. The other is a girl with similar hair to Daisuke, albeit much lighter, like thistle. Their names are Takeru and Miyako respectively.
Daisuke waves the two down, but they don't see him. They are engaged in their own discussion, but their low pace means that Hikari and Daisuke can catch them in a minute.
"Guys!" Daisuke says when they approach the other two. He does an inverted bow – a staccato lift of his chin. "Sup?"
"Oh hey!" Miyako greets. "Daisuke, the lovely Hikari."
They make small talk as the two groups coalesce into one. Hikari is now on the far right. To her left is Miyako, left of her is Takeru, and finally Daisuke brings up the far left of the group. As they chat Daisuke notices that Hikari seems somewhat withdrawn from the conversation, staring ahead of herself almost as though she is in a small trance. Her face is flushed and she looks, well, quite frankly awkward. Daisuke makes a mental note to bring it up with her later.
"...so the barbeque today, you two got your invitations?" Daisuke asks when the previous topic becomes stagnant.
"Yeah. Taichi's cooking, wonder how that'll be," Takeru says.
"Probably disastrous. Maybe I should bring something from the store if things don't turn out so well," says Miyako, nudging her brunette best friend.
They arrive at Daisuke's turnoff point. But he doesn't break off from the rest of the group alone – Takeru comes with him. Normally, Takeru's apartment would place him with Miyako and Hikari, but he and Daisuke have 'plans.'
"No one's home?" Takeru asks as they arrive at Daisuke's house.
"Nope! Jun's off with her new boyfriend and my parents are out of town for a while!" the burgundy-hair boy says with a smile.
"How," searching for the right word, "convenient."
Daisuke lets them into the house. It is messy, but Takeru has been here enough times to expect that. Daisuke drags the blond – who's hand is now mysteriously interlocked around Daisuke's own – to Daisuke's room.
The house is messy, but the burgundy haired boy's room takes first prize as being the worst of them all. Socks, shirts, even underwear are scattered around the room randomly. Finished, partially crumpled soda cans line the desks. The garbage is overflowing and fistfuls of paper are tossed about. It's much like Daisuke's locker, only on a much bigger scale.
"Mind the mess," Daisuke says.
"You should do something about this room before it becomes a health hazard."
Daisuke puts his finger on Takeru's lips. "Takaishi, don't you understand it is my day off. I can't clean on my day off!" And then contradictorily: "Well, there is one thing we could do. I still feel like ... school. I could really use a shower. Care to join me?"
Takeru needs no further coaxing and the two are standing naked in the shower. There are few moments were the blond gets to admire his boyfriend's natural form - so the two take their time rubbing away the daily grit from each other's figures. Takeru is still a little awkward about the whole thing, but doesn't resist. Daisuke is more open about sexuality in general, but doesn't push Takeru further then he is willing. Other then a few deviant interactions – a brush of the hand here and there – nothing explicit happens.
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"Your brother's here," Taichi says to Yamato. "Along with noodle boy."
"Great! That's everyone, now you can start on dinner. I'll invite them in," Yamato says. Taichi nods and retreats to the back yard. As the two boys – late teens – approach, Yamato opens the door.
"Aw little bro and his boyfriend, how cute," Yamato says.
Are you serious Yamato? Takeru doesn't speak but the look says it all.
"Don't worry little brother; they're all in the back yard." Yamato rubs his hands together. "You! We need to talk sometime soon. You know the whole obligatory 'if you hurt my little bro I'll hunt you down and break your limbs' type thing..." Yamato's interrogative index finger-which is pointed right at him-makes Daisuke shrink back. He gulps audibly.
"Yamat—"
"Relax Yamato," Takeru tries as though to wave away the tension. "I can fend for myself. Leave the poor kid alone."
"I'm not a kid..."
"Are we going to go inside?"
"Let's," Yamato says, gesturing unnecessarily at the door.
Soon, the back yard is a full house of Chosen, the entire dozen of them, together for the first time in nearly six months. The last time the entire group convened was at Christmas time last year. Fragments of the group mingled and met as it usually did, but as a rule of thumb, the older and younger Chosen spent their time in the company of their age group. Not only that, but the older Chosen were now leading busy lives in the workforce and universities, and only rarely got free time to socialise.
Free time was a luxury the younger Chosen would get to enjoy for an entire two months...
It had been four years since the defeat of Balialvamdemon, and everyone had changed a considerable amount. New loves had formed and fell to pieces; friendships broken and mended. The older Chosen were specialising in their careers; the younger only now contemplating theirs.
"Ok, first batch is up!" Taichi shouts over the dull accumulative voice of many individuals. Yamato takes the hamburgers to a long table stacked with condiments, plates, and snacks.
It is a special party for both Yamato and Taichi – it is the first barbeque the two hosted since they moved into an apartment together. Of all the romances that formed, Yamato's and Taichi's was perhaps the most unexpected. They were both masculine alpha-male personalities that most people thought were definitely straight. Not only that, the two disagreed and argued on everything (and they still do today). How such a strong relationship formed from such a chaotic soup of personality traits was both mysterious and amazing.
But Takeru and Daisuke could empathize. And while everyone accepted Taichi and Yamato's liaison, Takeru's much less willing to expose Daisuke and his relationship to anyone. Yamato (thus Taichi as well) are the only ones who know about it.
To everyone's surprise/relief, the food is quite delicious. The rest of the afternoon and evening progressed fast and without incident. The interactions between groups and subgroups were very predictable. Jyou and Mimi - who are in a relationship approaching a three year anniversary – are almost inseparable. Sora is often with them, or with Taichi and Yamato. The younger generation sticks together for the most part. The only thing peculiar about the evening is Hikari; the very social brunette is spending the majority of her time by herself.
"Hey, did you notice anything strange with Hikari?" Daisuke says as he opens the front door to his house.
"I was wondering when you were going to ask..." Takeru says. The door closes behind them; the house is dark and otherwise devoid of other individuals.
"So you know what's up, then."
"Yeah. A few days ago she asked me out. I turned her down."
"Ouch," Daisuke kicks his shoes off, then scratches the back of his neck. "So she knows about us, then?"
"No."
"What did you tell her? Not interested?"
Takeru sighs. "It didn't go too well. We aren't exactly on good terms right now."
"You should talk to her, Takeru."
"Well. I know I need to at some time. I am going to wait until she cools down a bit first, then I will. I promise."
"And then you are going to tell her about us?"
"You know I can't do that."
"I know you don't want to do that..." The two stood in awkward silence for a few moments. "Change the subject?"
"Yes."
The two watch television for about thirty minutes. However, the reunion evening had ended quite late and the two boys found themselves rather tired. Quickly they are in their underwear and in bed.
It was still a new experience to both of them, the physical aspect of their new relationship. Daisuke's arm is draped over his boyfriend's torso. Takeru's hand rests on the burgundy-haired boy's thigh. They face each other, and Daisuke is the first to fall asleep.
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The Overlords meet once a week to discuss the future of the Digital World; the world they intend to conquer. They are all veiled by the light-detaining material of the Spire. Only small rays burst through the ornamental windows situated geometrically around the pumpkin-shaped chamber.
"Did you get anything out of your prisoners?" the first asks. His voice is deep and rich, like a Japanese warrior who had seen and fought many a battle. He leans back in his chair, a motion barely visible to his counterparts.
"They all died on me too quickly to give anything valuable," the second replies. The voice is dark and female. She licks her lips after she speaks.
"That is because your methods are outdated and ineffectual. You should have given me control of the interrogations." The first says, gripping the edge of the chair's armrest.
"And deny me the simple pleasures in life?" She chuckles. "I think not."
"Excuse me, m'lords." A small Digimon approaches, a trey of hot beverages resting on its right palm – turned upright. "The tea you requested is ready." It sets the consignment of liquids on a central table – neutral territory.
"Leave us now," the first says as he stands from his chair. It was as polite as they got to their underlings.
"Yes, m'lords," and the creature vanishes behind a wall pane – a ninety degree turn from the center of the room. The pane defines the inner circumference of the chamber, with three openings which descend the trunk of the Spire via spiral staircases.
There is a short lull where the overlords consume the tea. The third abstains from the fluid, as usual.
"And what of your raids?" inquires the female overlord, eyeing the first.
"My messenger is late, again," the voice is agitated. It's owner drums his armrest impatiently.
"He must surely be punished for this insubordination," The woman says. The third is silent, merely observing the interaction with mild interest. The first cannot see the third, but he can feel its presence. Its uneven breathing leaves little dots of condensation on his dark armour.
"Yes. Unless it has sufficient reason, it will be punished,"
As if on cue, a shrouded figure leaps from behind the pane. He is concealed by a fabric cloak, only his eyes are visible.
"Master, please forgive my tardiness. The raid ended later then we had expected it to,"
"So they are starting to resist, are they? Friendly casualties?"
"That's not it, Master. The raid was successful – very successful actually. We had to do a little extra searching, which is why I'm late. We believe we have found someone with a connection to the Prophet, Master."
"Oh?" The first eased up. This was good news indeed. "And it is still alive, I presume?"
"Yes Master. She is still alive. Your orders, Sir?" the servant digimon uses this time to catch his breath.
"Torture her until she tells you the exact location of the Prophet. Do not kill it until after it tells you all we need to know. Only then can you put it out of its misery." The first takes the final sip of his tea.
"Yes, Master." And the servant digimon vanishes like the previous waiter did.
"You are getting soft, old man," the second says in a mock voice.
The first glares behind his mask. In a swift motion, he brings the tip of his sheathed super weapon onto the chamber's floor, sending a vibration chattering through the tea cups. "Do not mock a superior officer."
The woman laughs and relaxes into her chair, but says nothing further.
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Picklemon flies through the town searching for the Prophet's hut. Tonight he is the bearer of bad news, but knows he must warn the Prophet of the dangers ahead.
The town is of a basic grid layout. The streets are composed of mud, dirt and in some occasions, crushed rock. The huts vary between hemispheres and cubes, and the majority of them are small, single roomed, and accommodate small families or individuals. The Prophet's hut has no defining marks or symbols that would make it stand out from the others – that would, after all, defeat the purpose.
But Picklemon has the hut burned into memory, and guided by moonlight he approaches the dome house located near the town center, where it is safest. The tiny pink Digimon flies under the bamboo mat which acts as a door.
At first inspection, the place looks empty. A few books lay scattered around, among some other possessions. But the house is otherwise uninhabited. Picklemon pokes his head outside to ensure that no one is following him. When he confirms their safety, he initiates the ritual – two claps, two stabs at the floor with the handle of his spear, and a final circular motion with the blade of the weapon.
A vibration ripples through the seeming nothingness, and uncloaks itself is a mystical black sphere. A purple disturbance indicates the entrance. Pixiemon passes into the Prophet's realm.
"I wasn't expecting you this early, old friend!" Wizarmon says, leaning against a milk crate. In front of him lay a crystal ball and deck of cards. Neither object has any practical use – the cards are playing cards and the crystal ball (upon closer examination) is actually a snow-globe he got as a gift a few weeks back. His actual weapon – a staff – is laying next to him.
"I am afraid I bring bad news, wise Prophet," Picklemon says.
"Worse then the approaching Doom?" The Wizarmon asks, rubbing his gloved hand in a circular motion over the snow globe.
"No, different."
"Has your effort to contact the Chosen failed?"
"We are sending the transmission now,"
"Good. Then what is it?" the Wizarmon shakes the globe, causing a small blizzard to occur throughout the confined world.
"New Antioch was attacked and destroyed."
The Prophet squinted, when he spoke his voice was a note higher then it had been before. "And what of her?"
"I'm sorry, she's been captured."
A few moments of silence, then the snow-globe meets its strident end as it smashes against the realms wall – which IS apparently solid.
After a few moments of rage, the Prophet sinks to his knees and morns the loss of his significant other.
"We need to relocate, quickly. Soon we will have Advent forces at our door."
"If I could get to their central base and free her ..."
"There is nothing we can do for her now. May you see her again at the Village of Beginnings. But we need to leave now. If you are captured before you can help the Chosen, her death would have been for nothing!" Picklemon shakes Wizarmon's shoulders, bringing him back to reality.
Wizarmon wipes a tear from his eye and stands up, shakily. "You ... you are right." He disassembles the secret reality with a wave of his staff. The two fall to the wooden floor with a soft plop.
"Right now, we need the Chosen. Now more then ever!"
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Takeru is woken by a Digivice. It beeps furiously, and if its persistence correlates to the importance of its message, one could assume the world was ending. Daisuke is facing away from Takeru now – he must have turned over in his sleep. Takeru groggily reaches over his side of the bed and feels around for his bag. He sifts blindly through his possessions until he finds his Digivice. To his surprise, it is silent. The ringing is originating from the far side of the room. Daisuke's Digivice.
"Daisuke, wake up." The blond nudges on his boyfriends arm. The burgundy-haired boy is unresponsive. "Daisuke!" This time a little louder. The burgundy-haired boy stirs in his sleep but doesn't wake up. The blond rocks the sleeping body of his boyfriend. This gets a slight reaction – like a twitch.
Takeru gives up momentarily and gets out of bed. The nearby alarm notes that it is 5:56 AM. Takeru hunts down the source of the sound and finds it in Daisuke's schoolbag. He unzips it and a bunch of papers and stationary goods fall out in a pool on the floor. He reaches into the bag and finds no Digivice. Logically, it is in the side pocket. If Takeru were more awake he'd have searched there first, but sleep does weird things to people's judgement. He pulls out the blue and white device.
"Daisuke!" Takeru nudges him again and directs the blue light onto his face. Daisuke opens his eyes, only to yelp and immediately close them.
"What the hell?" Daisuke raises his arm as a shield. But now he hears the strident beeping coming from the Digivice. "Make it stop!"
Takeru's Digivice decides it wants to go on as well, and does so. The two Digivices beat off tone, creating an interference pattern. It sounds like a soundwave-shooting machine gun. Takeru gives Daisuke his Digivice and retrieves his own. He furiously clicks through its interface until he finds the source of the beeping. One new message.
He opens the file and the sound stops. Daisuke does the same. Both have identical messages. Neither contains words of any sort, but both contain a single file attachment. Takeru climbs back in bed, and the two rest their backs against the headboard.
"Go first," Takeru says. Daisuke nods and opens the file. A series of clicks chime from the device with varying intervals. The signal is repeating and contains no words, just the clicks. Takeru opens his respective file. They are identical.
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Upon editing i realize my triple asterisk page breaks don't work on FFnet... so I'll have to use llllllllll from now on...