Author's Note: So Hatred has been up for a while and not received much attention so I began to wonder, why is it that such a fine work of genius has only gotten one review? Just kidding. There are parts in this that I really like but it required a bit of bridge work. Any who, the little ego I IB has left me was indeed bruised until it struck me that maybe Hatred was somewhat less than popular was because enduring 21 pages of even the best of writing on a computer screen is rather painful. And it just so happened that there were three distinct peeks in the original one-shot. So voila! Split up for your (the reader's) convenience and mental sanity!

Disclaimer: See previous chapter. Too tired to come up with another clever way of disclaiming ownership.

That was when it clicked, at least subconsciously. Duskmon wasn't a Digimon like anything I'd encountered. If I killed him, he would die. If he died, I would lose something unspeakably important, a part of myself I couldn't describe. At the same time, I had to fight him. There was no question, no doubt in my mind. We had to fight, and I had to win. The line between winning and losing, though, was much blurrier than one would think. Do I make any sense? It makes sense to me. Anyway, that's not the only thing that forced the truth on me before Kouichi did. There was more, more secrets, more mind games. I woke up alone in the woods where the battle had been fought. Takuya was gone, along with Izumi, Junpei, and Tomoki. The latter had been captured by Ranamon and Mercurymon, a situation that I had to rectify, as usual. The former was off on some kind of spiritual journey to discover his connection to nature and what it truly means to be a Digimon, yada, yada. He certainly took his sweet time coming to help me rescue the others, but that's not the point. Whatever happened to him, delusion or just one of the Digital World's quirks, the experience forced him to mature. The guy really grew up. In true Takuya manner, he gave us a dramatic rendition of his experiences, conveniently neglecting to mention that he saw my brother trying to talk to me back at the train station, information that would have been very helpful. It would have taken the edge off the shock at least. Goggle-head.

Of course, I really wasn't thinking about any of that at the time. I was more concerned with Duskmon and his lack of commitment when it came to finishing me off. The guy despised me, I was certain of that much, yet both in my dream and in reality, he had failed to kill me. I had been weak and vulnerable, but he hadn't taken the shot. And I wasn't captured like the others, Ranamon and Mercurymon had left me alone, and it wasn't because I was their favorite and they didn't want to hurt me. Duskmon had had something to do with it, of that much I was sure of. Why? How could he hate me so much, and refuse to see me dead at the same time? Was he toying with me? Protecting me? Biding his time and saving me for some later encounter? Somehow I knew there was more to it, on both sides. The worst part of my dream wasn't that Duskmon had attacked me, or that I had fought him. What was tearing me up inside was the look in my reflection's almost human eyes as I killed him like I would have any other evil Digimon. All I could think about was that he had hesitated... and I hadn't. What was our connection, this thing between us? I had to know.

For once, it seemed, fate was on our side. Seeing me, hearing my name again, I guess it triggered some of the human memories Cherubimon had stolen from my brother. Kouichi was just as confused and tormented as I was after that first encounter. We never talked about it, but I can tell. Trying to destroy your own flesh and blood, especially when you know on some level that it's them, is a sin no words can describe. It tears at you, eating away at you slowly from the inside out until it destroys you. All I had was a subconscious nagging, a feeling from a long time ago to tell me we were blood. Kouichi though... his last memory from the human world was of trying to get to me. The humanity bubbling back to the surface within him after that fight must have torn him apart. So when we, Takuya, Izumi, me, etc., were pulled into Sakkakumon and became separated, I suppose it was the perfect time for some one-on-one time between long lost twins. Personally, I would have preferred a different setting for the big revelation as Sakkakumon was just flat out creepy. Seriously, the guy has, like, thirty different outdoor settings inside of him, as well as a variety of miscellaneous rooms that look like the inside of a marble and fleshy chambers all complete with slimy hands that push you through eye-shaped portals and Digimon who's only purpose seemed to be to mess with your brain or kill you. Like I said, creepy, and not very private either. We were inside the Digimon's gut, it only makes sense that he was listening to everything.

It took some wandering, and some trying, psychological battles, but I eventually found myself in a dark chamber where both floor and ceiling were a mix of navy, black and dark magenta. The room was utterly flat and empty, the only interruption in the swirl of color was a large, pale sun shaped symbol, thin kites radiating from a small circle, an image that I later realized had something to do with light. Ironic. Odd as it was, this was the place where things really started to fall together for me, where I discovered for a fact Duskmon was more than just the Legendary Warrior of Darkness, that our struggle went beyond the conflict between light and darkness. Things happened here between me and Kouichi that even Sakkakumon knew nothing about. It was a while back, but I can remember every detail, every word and inflection, every movement like it was half-an-hour ago. I'd been walking across the room, looking around uncertainly. My immediate goal was to get back outside, but there was something else I felt I needed to do. Something important. I didn't realize I wasn't alone until he spoke.

"Kouji... who are you?" I jumped and spun around, as if I intended to fight him in my human form.

"Duskmo-" Before I could finish the name he'd reached out and grabbed me, hoisting my body into the air like a rag doll.

"I can't wait any longer! I need to know!" His fist wedged against my throat, threateningly, my cloths cut into me from supporting my weight. I was beginning to have trouble breathing. "What is our connection? Why do I feel like I know you? And why did you come to this world? Give me your memories. Now!" The sockets on his skull like hand began to glow, spewing a black mist. It surrounded me, the cold slicing through to my core like icy whips. I screamed like I'd never screamed before. Trust me, I've had some painful experiences, but nothing compared to the darkness hacking into my brain and torturing my body. Nevertheless, I still had my pride, and it would not be quieted so easily.

"Get out of my head, Duskmon! Leave my memories alone!"

"Silence!" The intensity of the darkness doubled and I was thrown to the back of my own mind like a leaf in the storm.

It was... uncomfortable. I could feel Duskmon shoving around inside my head, looking at my memories, reading my thoughts, as if he were going through my room. He was unskilled, clumsy even, I could watch everything he was doing but couldn't stop him. I couldn't see past the mist, but I could sense him. I could feel his thoughts at the edge of my own. It was like there was a bridge between us, an unguarded, open bridge, a feedback loop. Duskmon was looking at my memories, of my home, of the day I came to the Digital World, and they were playing before me too, but like background noise. I could still think and talk and I could ignore the images and focus of something much more intriguing. He was trespassing in my mind, as weird as that sounds, and had left his own open to me. This was the perfect opportunity to find out more about him. I reached out, testing to see if I could make it, then went forward, entering his mind as he did mine, preparing to do as much digging as I could before he threw me out. Then something very strange happened. I materialized in a dark place, a swirl of purple and green and black. My body was still there and my memories were still playing, but they were far away, as if this place was real and those sensations the day dream. They were going slowly, I was out of time. This was not what I had expected.

"Is this really Duskmon's mind?" I asked myself, my words echoing back to me. "Not much to look at."

"Hello," a voice called from the shadows, a very familiar voice. I looked around sharply, struggling to maintain my balance in the directionless mass. "How did you get here? Who are you?" The boy from my nightmares appeared before me, several meters away. He studied me curiously- at least, I thought it was curiosity. His featureless head was tilted to one side any way.

"I could ask you the same question," I hissed, slipping into a fighting stance. This wasn't the real world; it wasn't even the Digital World. Here, Duskmon wrote the rule book, so this figment, be it a part of him or a memory taken from my dreams and given form, was bound to attack me if given the chance.

"The same question... What question?" he asked absently, his head tilting further to the left. "Who I am, you mean." His manner was soft and quiet, his dull, non-reflective black eyes wide and somehow glowing with a type of innocent honesty. "To tell you the truth, I don't really know. I can't seem to remember." He glanced at me, then around the room, if you could call it that. Where had this thing come from? He appeared with the darkness, so that should have been a sign we were in conflict. Yet, on to contrary, I felt like I needed to, I don't know, protect him somehow. Like I needed to save him. I shook the thought off, my features hardening.

"Well that's helpful."

"I'm sorry," he muttered sheepishly, looking away. The shadows had morphed, giving him a defined shape, features. My features. His skin was pale white, his hair short and rather disorderly, and his eyes were still black, but other than that he was me. His voice had changed too, much like mine only softer, a little lower.

"Why do you look like me," I asked tentatively, narrowing my eyes suspiciously as his form became less transparent.

"Do I?" He looked down at himself, then over at me, quietly perplexed. "Maybe I am you."

"I seriously doubt that."

"Then who am I?"

"Stop playing games, Duskmon, you know what I want."

"Duskmon? Why would you call me that? Is that who I am?" I nodded slowly, still not dropping my guard. I wasn't about to let him trick me over intuition, especially illogical intuition that told me to trust someone who was trying to kill me. "That's what he says too, but it doesn't sound right. I don't think I'm Duskmon. I didn't used to be, until he came."

"Who are you talking about," I snapped coldly. This guy was so vague I couldn't follow anything he said. One thing was clear, there was no way he was me in any form. I was nothing like this. However, if that was true and he wasn't me, then what was he? Duskmon had a point; if he wasn't me, why did we look alike? "Who's he?"

"Lord Cherubimon. He found me and told me I was Duskmon and that I had to destroy the light. Destroy you." He looked me straight in the eye and it was hard not to recoil from the intensity of his gaze. "If you're Kouji, that is." He was solidifying, his form no longer bounced up and down as if it were floating. He was so frail looking, so weak and unassuming. It was hard to believe that this boy way actually a Digimon capable of absolute obliteration. Then again, maybe he wasn't. I couldn't help but feel close to the boy, close in a way I had never experienced with Duskmon. It was almost as if they weren't the same person.

"Well, you're sort of failing," I said sarcastically, relaxing a little and disregarding the warning voice of reason in favor of that fickle feeling instinct. He didn't seem aggressive, no use wasting energy waiting for him to attack. Duskmon or not, maybe this boy could tell me about Cherubimon's plans. It was worth a shot.

"Yes, you're right. I have failed. I'm glad." He grinned, his smile soft and warm.

"What?"

"You seem very nice; I don't know why Lord Cherubimon wants me to destroy you."

"You mean he never told you why? You're just blindly following orders?" My tone was somewhat disgusted, causing him to flinch slightly.

"No. No, he told me why. I just can't remember. I can't remember anything before now, actually." I felt like I could reach out and touch him now, like he was actually there, a real person inside of Duskmon. That wasn't possible, he couldn't be real. He looked at me, the beginnings of fear and desperation blooming in his eyes. "That's not right, I should be able to, but I can't." His breath caught in his throat, as if something had hit him squarely in the chest, then it quickened as he started to panic. "I can't remember... who I am, where I came from, what happened." A hysterical note had seeped into his voice as his eyes began to take on a life like, blue glint. "I can't remember!" Images flashed across my vision, sharp, alien images. I saw myself on the train going to the Shibuya Station, on the elevator, through another set of eyes. Someone was watching me, running towards me, slamming into the elevator doors as they closed. His head was dropped, his hands pressed against the reflective doors. He looked up. Pain shot through me and the boy and I screamed in unison. He grabbed his head, gasping. I recovered a little faster.

"Calm down, it's all right," I said soothingly, stepping towards him. He stumbled back, a wild look contorting his face, his body almost solid. "It's going to be all right, I won't hurt you, just calm down." I felt so... protective. I wanted to help him and I didn't understand why.

"No, stay back! Light brings pain. Kouji is pain." He began to strike out, his fingers flexed and claw-like, his balance phasing in and out, threatening to abandon the boy completely and send him to the floor. Something told me that he was one of those people who managed to break something whenever they fell over. Taking preventive and logical action without any sort of emotional rational like worry, I tackled him, grabbing his wrists and pinning him down.

"Stop it; you're going to hurt yourself!" He closed his eyes, throwing his head from side to side and squirming.

"Minamoto Kouji, son of Minamoto Kousei who's been married to another woman for three years. You're always moving because of your fathers work. You never made many friends. You have a dog, he pulls you around when you walk him and sometimes knocks you over. You think your mother's dead. You were getting flowers for that other woman," he screamed trying to through me off. "You were giving up on her. You were giving up on Mom!"

"How could you possibly know that," I whispered, my grip loosening. It didn't go unnoticed. He threw me off, making a fist and grabbing my shirt. Then he froze, a single tear glistening in the half light. I stared at him in numb disbelief. What was this guy's deal? We sat there for a moment, me on the ground, him pinning me there, holding my upper half up and preparing to attack, his eyes closed painfully.

"I can't do it," he muttered faintly. "I can't hurt you. Why can't I hurt you? I'm supposed to hurt you but I can't." He dropped me suddenly, scooting away and huddling into a ball. "What's wrong with me," he moaned, tucking his chin to his chest and pressing his palms over his ears. "Why can't I do what I'm supposed to?" I stood up gingerly, pulling out the wrinkles in my shirt and approaching him cautiously.

"How do you know me," I asked quietly. He didn't make a noise. "Hey." I grabbed his hands and he looked up, his lost eyes brimming with tears, his body cold as death and shaking.

"I don't know. I can't remember," he breathed.

"Have you ever tried?" He shook his head, his hair falling across his eyes.

"I never needed to. I never doubted what I was until I met you."

"What does that mean? What are you trying to say?" Another riddle, like I didn't get enough of those. Why was this guy so complicated? Odd, I'm not really sure when I started referring of him as separate from Duskmon.

"I don't know! Why are you asking me these questions?"

"Who are you really? What are you?" He didn't respond, trying desperately to look away. "Hey!" I gave him a slight shake and his gaze snapped back to mine, anger flashing in his half-dead eyes.

"Darkness," he answered quietly. I sighed, getting up. This was getting me nowhere, and Duskmon would be leaving my mind soon. I couldn't waste time talking to this sub personality of his or whatever he was, no matter how I felt. My friends needed me, the Digital World needed me. There was no time to waste. My movement startled him apparently, at least, it caused a rather wild mood swing. He stood up. "No wait, Kouji! Don't leave!" He reached out faster than I thought possible, grabbing my sleeve desperately. "Please don't go. I know I'm not very helpful, and I know I'm not who you wanted to see. But you can't leave me! Not now, not again!"

"Again?" He ignored me, continuing in a rushed voice, trying to explain himself.

"You can't go. I don't know, I can't. You questions, they're mine too. Please, wait just a little longer. You can't leave me again. When I'm with you, it hurts but-"

"What do you mean it hurts? Duskmon, why won't you just give me a straight answer?"

"I don't know how to. I don't remember! All I know is what I feel. There's just overwhelming sadness, pain, not just yours. These things, they aren't new. It's been so long, but I've felt them before, and it's because of you. I want more. I want to know what our connection is. I want to know what I am." A spasm shot through his body, as if the sudden wave of emotion had shorted something else and he let go, shrieking in agony and grabbing his head. His fingers knotted in his dark hair, his yells echoed through the darkness. "No," he screamed, not to me, to something else inside his mind. "I have to tell you! When I'm with you, it's blurry, but at least I feel! I know!"

"Duskmon? Duskmon, what are you doing!" He was on his knees, his body contorting as waves of intense pain washed over him.

"Not Duskmon! That's not right! None of this is right! I'm-" A dark red mist flamed up around his body, enveloping him. He threw back his head and arched his back, the screams tearing at his throat. His eyes shot open, sparkling with life, my mother's eyes. Then he collapsed, slumping onto his side, his hair falling across his wide blue eyes. "You can't do this," he muttered to no one. I wanted to get closer, to make sure he was all right, but I was afraid to. "I'll fight it."

"Duskmon?" The boy's eyes faded back to black and he gave me a blank stare. "Who are you?"

"Get out!" Duskmon's voice boomed through the realm, dark and angry. The boy dissolved back into the dark mist as I began to fall.