Author's Notes
The Windy Village with the Floramon and Mushroomon is based off the one in season four, where Zoe Orimoto finds her human spirit. For some reason, I distinctly remember Floramon fleeing from Kimeramon, so this image sort of stuck. And hey, whatever works.
And that Floramon (the leader) is one they (Ken and Ryo) met during their travels. That's what she was taking about. But Ken's got (partial) amnesia, remember?
As for the bit with Davis, we all know what happens there.
Enjoy, and tell me someone's still reading this!
Chapter 3 – Courage Sought
Perhaps stepping off that train in Odaiba wasn't the hardest thing he had ever done, but it came close. The first was probably facing up to Sam's death. The second would be facing Wormmon's, and making the decision to change for good, despite the fact that no change ever came easy, especially when ideas were cemented into the world they walked upon. The third had been a long withheld confrontation with his parents, which actually worked out better than he had thought; he had apparently underestimated them…just as he had underestimated the Digidestined. Just as he had underestimated Sam. The next was coming face to face with the Digidestined after what he had done to them.
No-one bothered to tell him to forgive himself. In fact, Wormmon was the only one who essentially could, the only one who knew the whole story, but not even he did. Most of him knew it was because the rookie realised that such words were hollow, meaning nothing if the person themselves weren't ready for that, and in any case, only time and new-forging bonds could do that. A smaller part believed it was because he blamed him, but the barest look into the doe blue eyes would turn that around in a heartbeat.
Time and time again, he couldn't believe how lucky he was to have Wormmon as a friend.
In fact, it was Wormmon (or Minomon rather) who had…forced, for lack of a better term, him on this train to begin with. He had been tempted to just post the stupid thing, but no. His digimon partner decides it's a good opportunity to at least try to talk to the others, and since a conveniently left behinds lens cleaner was in the house, there was an excuse to trigger some sort of situation.
But at that point, where the doors had automatically opened and others streamed past him to their destination, he was starting to get cold feet. He couldn't resist an almost mirth laughter. He, the supposed cool as a cucumber Ken Ichijoji, was getting cold feet. Not that he was any of those things anymore…except perhaps the last. Or not. The Japanese name meant "strong" or "physically healthy". Okay, he was fine, physically speaking, except when the sleepless nights decided to show their face, mercifully broken by the instances where not even nightmares or half-blotted memories could keep him from much needed rest. Strong he was not. That was what had started this whole mess.
He had stumbled off the train before realising it. Yes, stumbled. With the help of a little hyperactive girl with her hair done in cute brown curls. For some reason, that innocent bouncy image stuck. It reminded him of another child bouncing around their elder brother. Said elder brother even wore the same look: half grinning, half annoyed.
He may have lived in Tamachi for his entire life, but he knew Odaiba well enough, namely because of the soccer matches, interviews and competitions that tended to spread districts. So he knew the way to Odaiba elementary school.
He had, unfortunately been held up on the way, seeing as this part of town had not heard of his fall from grace. To be honest, the only two communities who had noted the change from "Digimon Emperor Ken" to just plain old "Ken" were his family community (which had somehow managed to draw in one of his mother's clients, a Ms Aihara, when he had somewhat spontaneously picked up the phone. The single working lady had been quite pleasantly surprised), and his school community, namely because they had a habit of posting scores on the notice boards for everybody to see, and his grades and consequent rank were slipping down, visible enough to be seen. He had been lucky to pass that latest math test; it wasn't that he didn't know how to answer the questions though, his mind just seemed to be somewhere else lately.
The elementary school was showed, but not particularly dark, seeing as it was still before sunset. The autumn afternoons were getting colder, but there was a long way yet till winter and Christmas, so his school blazer provided enough physical warmth. He didn't enter the building though; he didn't belong there. Even if was, notable past tense, a celebrity, he would technically be trespassing into a school's grounds after hours without permission. He didn't need to anyway; he could see the Digidestined slipping out stealthily (they weren't supposed to be there any more than the next guy), heading through busy crowds towards an intersection. The same crowd hid him well as he slipped in to follow. Or rather, his feet did. He didn't recall consciously telling them anything; apparently, the "genius" sub-conscience was acting.
Funny thing was, even if he was far and in between enough within the grasp of the crowds of people that he couldn't be seen and couldn't see those he was following (the two sides had equilibrated at that point as they continued to fight), he could hear them well enough. And to be honest, he was entirely flabbergasted why no-one else was picking up on the discussion. He supposed most people didn't indulge into the little snippits of the world that didn't relate to them and didn't make sense.
As it was, the first thing he heard when he got close enough was:
'Uurgh, don't remind me.' Yolei he assumed. He'd heard her voice enough, but not quite with the disgusted tone it held right then. 'I couldn't help the fact that he was cute. And smart. And talented. And-'
'Enough Yolei,' another female voice laughed, softer. Kari. 'You're blabbing.'
'They were a waste on him anyway.' A younger voice, male, but sounding perfectly serious and a little grave, and additionally a tad bitter. 'Sure he was smart, but look at what he done with that. He used his talents on destroying the Digital World. The spires, the dark rings and spirals…Kimeramon. He doesn't even deserve Wormmon as a partner.'
'You know,' Kari said softly. 'I thought he had changed. Really I did, when Wormmon got hurt like that. If Wormmon was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for Ken-'
He had known they were talking about him.
'- then there must have been something there. Wormmon helped Davis remember, and Agumon? I don't, didn't, think he would have just blindly followed Ken, but-'
'-the way he mercilessly ordered Stingmon to go in for the kill,' Yolei finished. 'That poor Thundermon. I don't believe it.' Then, slightly sorrowfully. 'I've got the worst luck with guys.'
'Except Michael,' the child of light comforted.
'True,' the child of love and sincerity amended. 'But it's hard to maintain a long distance relationship. In any case…' He voice seemed to have reverted back to the old tone. 'I wouldn't want to kiss him if he came crawling to me on all fours and was the last guy on earth. Though he probably would have been responsible for killing the others.'
'Come on Yolei,' Kari attempted to placate, perhaps a little half-heartedly. 'Despite everything he did, he's no murderer.'
'I think he is,' Cody interjected flatly. 'Thundermon may have attacked us for no reason, but that didn't give him the right to order Stingmon to kill him.'
'That's right.' In the little gap through the crowd, Ken saw her cross her arms and scowl. 'Nothing gave him that right. What he's done was unforgivable, especially when we were ready to forgive him.' He heard some sort of a disgusted sound. 'Bleh, and I wanted his germs on my hand. I can't believe Davis-'
He lost them at that point, not that he really cared.
It didn't matter. Yolei would obviously prefer her lens cleaner missing then in his hold. And they were right. He was a monster, and he had no right to ask for their forgiveness.
Except for Thundermon. Because they obviously didn't know he had been a control spire and not a real digimon. But then again, that was due to his sin to begin with.
He didn't turn and run. He didn't really feel like it, though most people in his shoes would have done so. Instead, he stood alone and small in the crowd, before slowly beginning the long route home.
On the way from Tamachi station, he bumped into Davis Motomiya. Well, more like the peppy brunette chased him for a few paces along the riverside before he yielded in lieu of causing a scene, wishing he had taken Minomon to school with him, especially when he spied DemiVeemon in the leader's soccer bag.
'Yo man,' he said cheerfully, quite contraire to what he had expected. But then again, he had seen the boy make some rather rash decisions, which sometimes worked out well, and sometimes not. 'What's up?'
He had blabbed on a lot after that, but he had meant well. Or he had appeared to in any case. It could have been part of a more elaborate point to crush him completely. Apparently, he was starting to get rather paranoid. Sleeplessness and nightmares impinging upon the night tended to do that.
He wound up returning home with the lens cleaner still in his pocket. Minomon noted that, but made no comment, instead floating down the hallway and begging for a snack.
That would cheer any Digidestined up, especially when they were well used to their in-training partners being bottom-less pits, until they wore holes into their allowance anyway. And even then, they didn't truly mind. Digimon friends were more important than a game at the arcade after all.
They enjoyed the Japanese fruit cake his mother had left for them, quietly, as they always did, washing it down with some tea. Minomon took his in little nibbled pieces which Ruki Ichijoji had thoughtfully pre-prepared. Ken just absentmindedly speared his.
Then he tried to concentrate on his homework. Key word: tried. He only managed to get through the pre-calculus problems before he simply could not focus any more.
'Should we go to the Digital World?' Minomon asked, watching his partner struggle through a literature essay.
Ken looked at the clock. 'Too close to dinner,' he said, somewhat disappointedly. 'Mum will think I've disappeared again if I'm not in my room once she's done with the curry.'
'After dinner?' the in-training digimon asked hopefully.
Ken smiled, just a bit as he attempted to continue reading. 'Just a bit.'
Why did stories make everything seem so simple?
True to his word, they went into the Digital World after dinner, confident that Ken's parents wouldn't drop in until about ten thirty, by which time he should be on his way to bed. He knew the Primary Village was well on its way to being repaired, so he figured he could probably help elsewhere. Perhaps the Windy Village where the Floramon and Mushroomon lived; that had taken quite a hard hit from the rampaging Kimeramon.
He winced at the image, but set off, Wormmon, now evolved into his rookie form, following.
Only, they were stopped by the Mushroomon brothers at the border.
'Why are you here?' the one in the middle growled. 'Even without your fancy hair and clothes, we can see you're the Digimon Emperor.'
He was starting to wish he had chosen a more deserted location. If only so he wouldn't have to deal with this again. Baby digimon were one thing; there had been two on his side. The Poyomon in the cradle, then Leafmon.
At least there was still Wormmon.
'We're here to help,' he said in his innocent, cheerful voice. 'Anything we can do?'
The three brothers (assuming that's what they were) stared at him, then at the human. 'As if we'd let the Digimon Emperor destroy what's left,' the one to the right scoffed. 'No can do. And if you were any good, you wouldn't be with him.'
Wormmon reared on his back legs, but Ken scooped him off the ground in a comforting hold. 'Please,' he said, bowing as best and as humbly as he could. 'I know I've done a lot of bad things in the past-'
'That's an understatement,' the one to the left snorted, unintentionally spraying spores onto the ground.
'But I really want to help. Please.'
The three looked at each other a little uncertainly, before simultaneously scowling. 'Like we'd fall for that.'
'Yeah!' another pair bounced up, having heard that last part, and looked younger and more volatile than their triplet counterparts. 'He should pay for what he did!'
'Uh, Ken-?' Wormmon began, at a bit of a loss. They couldn't attack; they'd be proving them right. They couldn't let them attack and revolt; they'd get creamed.
Luckily, they didn't need to make a choice, as a Floramon from the rejuvenating garden chose that moment to interrupt the conversation.
'Whatever he did,' she said firmly, staring at the Mushrooms. 'We do not have the right to begrudge him of a second chance. If he truly wants to help, then we should let him do so.'
'But what if he destroys everything again?' one of the younger pair wailed miserably. 'Our home was dust! Dust!'
'Then we'll rebuild again,' she replied, staring at the human and his partner. 'But how can someone prove they've changed when no-one gives them that chance.'
She pointed to three Floramon struggling with a large beam. 'Go help them out.'
He went immediately, thankful for the petal digimon. Not that he could blame the others; they were still rather hostile, even after the theatre house was standing tall after three solid hours.
'That's just how they are,' the Floramon said warmly at the end of it, rather relieved that her gamble had paid off. 'You can't expect people to suddenly change their minds about you.'
'No,' Ken shook their head. 'Of course I cannot.'
The Floramon, the leader of the village, glanced at him. 'You also can't expect them to hold you for your mistakes forever. They'll come to see the sweet child that travelled and spread kindness wherever he went.'
She said that as though she knew, but it was, at that point, drowned out by something else.
A feeling of dread following, drawing closer. Waves lapping on a faraway shore.
He felt Wormmon latch onto his leg as he looked around. 'There're control spires on that ridge.'
'Do you want me to get rid of them?'
No, he wanted to tear them down himself. But he couldn't do it alone.
He forced a smile on his face, the happiness from the simple tasks fading fast as the darkness loomed ever so closer, reaching out for him. 'Sure Wormmon.'
He pulled out his D-3.
'Wormmon digivolve to…Stingmon!'
A few Spiking Strikes turned the towers into rubble.