Author's Note: Yush, I live! College studies just slid this fic onto the backburner for a bit, unfortunately. But now this chapter's here at long last, and – don't kill me when you get to the end, okay? We're getting to the really intense parts now, as I'm sure you'll see very quickly. Don't worry, everything's going to make sense. Although this is where the story takes its seriously ark turn. This ain't for the little kiddies, folks, though it's nothing to intense for its rating. Just be aware that Im-chan is about to face some of the hardest times of his life. Doesn't that sound lovely? ;)

Disclaimer: I own this particular concept of Gijinka, and the individual Gijinka (although not their Digimon parts, how confusing). Meh, you know the drill. I'm just playing, not claiming as mine. Except for the stuff that IS mine. You should be able to recognize what's what by now.

The Last of the Gijinka

Chapter Ten

Imouku winced as the medic finished tying off the last of the twenty-seven stitches that ran down his side, biting back the curse that was on his lips. Normally, he wouldn't have bothered doing that, but the presence of the small Tsukaimon Gijinka sitting anxiously next to him kept his language in check, at least for the moment. The medic, a Youkomon Gijinka with short, tightly cropped hair – a mark of dishonor or extreme grief among their people – smiled at him and bowed politely, saying,

"That's the last of them, Imouku-sama; as long as you don't pull any of them out you should be just fine in a day or two."

The redhead nodded distractedly, already fixated on poking at the stitches, regardless of the pain such action caused him. The medic sighed in an exasperated fashion – he had done this several times already – and gently taking hold of the offending hand, she pulled it away from the just-closed wound in Imouku's side. Said Gijinka blinked up at her with an expression mirroring that of a kicked puppy. The medic only shook her head and pointed at the discarded shirt lying on the table between Imouku and the Tsukaimon Gijinka, raising an eyebrow.

Imouku grumbled to himself, but put the shirt back on – slowly, so as not to aggravate the recently stitched injury. All the while the young Tsukaimon Gijinka watched him worriedly, biting her lip and fighting to keep from crying. At last, when the redhead was once again dressed – albeit in a bloodstained and ripped shirt – the much younger Gijinka threw her arms around Imouku's neck in a child's hug, sobbing.

"Thank you, Imouku-sama," she cried, tears falling freely now from her bright golden eyes, "Thank you, thank you, thank you . . ."

Imouku blinked at her awkwardly, blushed in embarrassment and looked to the medic for help – just because he could handle his Tamers when they got like this didn't mean that he was any more equipped to comfort a total stranger. When the medic didn't look up from the chart she was willing out – what was it with doctors and those things, anyway? – Imouku spoke, doing his best to stop the Tsukaimon Gijinka's tears.

"H-hey, don't cry, kiddo – I didn't do anything, really! There's nothing to cry about!"

"But you did," the Tsukaimon exclaimed, shaking her head so hard that her dark blonde pigtails whipped back and forth. "No-one's ever, ever stood up to Youkano-sama before! Never ever!"

Imouku flinched, not liking the reminder of the earlier encounter. "You mean he really does go around beating on little kids, and no-one's ever tried to stop him?"

Both of the other Gijinka nodded solemnly, and Imouku scowled, trying to find any way to reconcile the half-crazed GranDracmon Gijinka he had encountered earlier to the smiling, loving Sangloupmon Gijinka from his memories. As he thought, the redhead brought a hand up to his face and lightly traced the bruising along his cheekbone that was already becoming very prominent – he was suddenly very, very glad his friends and Tamers weren't here, because he really didn't want them to have to see him with a giant bruise on his face.

It was an unfortunate side-effect of the injuries he'd received that he didn't really remember much of the encounter with his father, just that it had been tense, cold, and that his "father" had gotten angry at the little Tsukaimon child for . . . something really stupid, he couldn't remember what. And just for a second he'd seen Ai in the little Tsukaimon Gijinka's place, and he had acted as best he could, considering the circumstances. But even that was a bit . . . fuzzy. A soft "Ahem," from the medic brought Imouku back to the present and made him realize he'd zoned out for the third time since he'd been brought in.

The Youkomon Gijinka's face was deeply concerned as she spoke to him, apparently repeating herself. "I believe it would be best for you if you got some rest, Imouku-sama. I can arrange assistance for you to get to your quarters if you need –"

"That won't be necessary, Kitsu-san," the sharp, annoying voice of Kiokure said as she entered the room. "Milord wishes to see Imouku-sama immediately, in the library. He wishes to discuss matters of utmost importance." The medic scowled and snapped at the Gazimon, growling slightly.

"There is no way Imouku-sama is up to such a meeting! The only thing he needs right now is to go to his quarters and rest!"

Kiokure rolled her eyes, "Like that matters to him," and she spat the name.

Imouku coughed deliberately, annoyed at being ignored, and when he was sure he had both of the older Gijinka's attention, he hopped off the examining table and wobbled unsteadily for a moment, before righting himself. "I don't care whether or not I'm supposed to be resting – I want to see him, too," the redhead said, scowling in a determined (and royally ticked off) manner, tail flicking from side to side irritably. "I've got some things I want to "discuss" with him, too!"

All three other Gijinka in the room turned and stared at Imouku, who didn't look the slightest bit aware of what kind of reaction he was generating. He simply grinned reassuringly at them all and walked out of the room unaided. He had things to discuss with his father all right, and while he might have liked his head to be clearer first, he didn't see the point if it was just going to end up in another beat-down the likes of whatever happened earlier. He wanted answers, and he was going to get them – if the D-Reaper hadn't killed him, there was no way a few little injuries like this would! Without another word, he stalked (or maybe staggered) out of the room, and waited for Kiokure to direct him where to go. It wasn't like he knew the layout of this place, after all. The still-stunned Gazimon Gijinka was quick to scurry out of the medic's office and catch up to him, although she didn't give him any assistance in walking – which was fine with Imouku, because he would only have gotten angry with her if she had.

When Imouku entered the library following his father's – for, despite the insanity, there really was no use in denying the relation –summons, he was prepared for another attack, and as such was taken totally by surprise when his father swept him up into a hug, showing know memory of their earlier encounter. Imouku was so shocked, in fact, that he simply stood there staring wordlessly up at the older Gijinka for a long moment, only startled out of this state when his father touched – albeit gently – the bruise forming on his face. This caused the redhead to flinch away immediately, and he vaguely heard the concern in Youkano's voice when he asked angrily,

"Who did this to you?!?"

Imouku blinked at his father, barely managing to check himself from blurting out his immediate response of, "You did!" Instead, he remained silent and watched as the Lord of the Citadel's face darkened and twisted with rage.

"They did this, didn't they?!?" The anger in his father's face and voice brought Imouku's mind back to the incident that had taken place earlier in the day, and he flinched back as his father spontaneously threw a teacup he had been holding across the library, and watched with wary eyes as it shattered into powder.

"Uh. . ." he stuttered out, not sure if speaking would really be a good idea at this point or not. Fortunately, it was. The rage fled from his father's features immediately upon hearing this one small sound, and the blonde turned and took Imouku gently by the shoulders, leading the unresisting redhead to a nearby chair and sitting him down.

"Well, you don't have to worry any more, my son. Those humans and their Digimon friends will never hurt you again," the GranDracmon Gijinka said, still looking rather angry.

A little-used self-preservation instinct of Imouku's kept him from opening his big mouth to defend his Tamers and friends. His father, not knowing his son's usual loudmouth nature, didn't notice the unusual behavior. Instead, he simply checked Imouku over with a worried frown and took in the tear in his clothing. Imouku stared at him with wide eyes, confused as to what, exactly, the Lord of the Citadel was doing.

He said as much.

"What are you doing. .. father?" He asked, hesitantly adding the title to the end of his question. Youkano blinked at him and simply said,

"You need more suitable clothing."

Again, Imouku was confused. Sure, his shirt was ripped, but it wasn't like he couldn't fix it once he'd rested. It was a part of his data, after all. Other than the rips, he thought his clothes were fantastic – and well they should be since he'd designed them himself not very long ago! The blonde Gijinka's next statement cleared up any confusion Imouku held, though, as he said, "These are entirely inappropriate for your station." As he spoke, Youkano's hands remained on Imouku's shoulders, and the redhead tried very hard not to squeak as he felt the strange sensation of someone else manipulating his data since – not counting Zhuquiaomon – he had been a toddler.

When the sensation faded and Imouku realized what he was now wearing, he couldn't keep the irritated, well, he wasn't going to admit it as such but it was definitely a pout, off of his face. He was tired, hurt, and he did not care much for clothing that made him look like some prince out of Ai's fairy tale stories! The clothing was way too dignified-looking and regal for his tastes, and he would have said so were the strange self-preservation instinct not still sealing his mouth shut. Luckily for him, his father only looked satisfied and chuckled at the expression on the redhead's face.

"Much better," he said, sounding pleased with himself while gently tugging Imouku to his feet. Then the Lord of the Citadel turned to two Gijinka whom Imouku hadn't noticed standing in two of the corners of the room, and spoke again. "Take my son to his new quarters and provide him with some alternate clothes for sleeping – then make certain that he remains undisturbed until he asks for assistance." Imouku blinked again, his tired and concussed brain trying to sort out what was going on – and struggling desperately to remember what he had been so determined to talk to his father about when he'd first come to the Citadel. The expression on his face caused his father to laugh again, and his expression was almost identical to the face in Imouku's memories as he said, "You need to sleep, Imouku. And you're going to, as soon as you let these two help you to your rooms."

Imouku was only too willing to leave his father's presence. He knew that there was something he desperately needed to talk to him about, but between his fatigue and the headache he was suffering he just couldn't seem to remember what exactly that was. So he rather peacefully followed the two Gijinka – his mind was too fuzzy to identify their species – out of the library and through the maze of corridors. By the time they stopped in font of a massive door that apparently led to his new rooms, the two Gijinka were nearly carrying him.

Upon entering his new rooms and seeing the large, exceedingly comfortable bed, Imouku's brain had all but shut down. As such, he really didn't remember anything from entering the room until he woke up a great deal of time later. Sometime between those two points he must have changed (or been changed, how embarrassing!) into sleeping clothes that had been laid out for him and gotten into the bed, but he had no memory of doing so. All things considered, he slept rather well.

When Imouku woke, he woke up both confused and starving. Where was he? What had happened? And most importantly of all, where could he get something to eat? Then, as he gradually became more aware of himself and what had happened – along with the aches and pains in his body, he found his questions being answered in his own mind. And for some reason, his appetite decreased to a mere echo of what it had been when he first woke. Something about the recent events was making him a little nauseated.

Could it be the fact that his father was apparently insane?

Quite possibly.

Still, despite a growing longing to hide himself away in the bed and never resurface again, Imouku dragged himself up and, realizing the pajamas he wore were actually a set of clothing that was not a part of his data make-up, looked around for "his" clothes – and scowled at what he saw. Laid out neatly before him was the product of his father's meddling the (he supposed) day before. The white shirt alone would have annoyed him, with its many layers of ruffles down the front and "flowy" sleeves; but when you added that to the heavy-looking thankfully purple) goat with gold fastenings and the – oh, Ai would love this – crown, Imouku decided he would almost prefer to simply go around naked. At least the pants were acceptable, if plainer than his usual tastes – he supposed it was to make up for the hideousness of the rest of the outfit. The boots were much the same. Worst of all, though, there were no gloves in sight.

Imouku loved his gloves. He needed his gloves. And, even as he tried valiantly to alter the outfit just enough to give him said gloves, he continuously failed. Apparently his father had expected him to dislike his new wardrobe and had locked it into that form. So it was either wear the pajamas – which felt strange to him since they weren't a part of him; it was an uncomfortable feeling, honestly – or the frilly, prissy clothes.

Not much of a choice really.

Ten minutes later, Imouku was inspecting himself in the mirror with a scowl. Luckily for him, the bruise on his face was starting to fade already – it would be gone before any of the Tamers showed up, of that much he was certain. Still, right now it matched his new jacket perfectly. After another few minutes of inspecting his appearance, Imouku decided it was time to satisfy his stomach, at least a little bit – though his appetite was greatly decreased as he thought about his father's insanity and obvious hatred of humans and Digimon alike. He just didn't understand; what in the world could have happened to his father to have turned him into such a, well, monster?

He knew that the desire for power could drive you insane; he'd experienced that firsthand – but it seemed like something different was at work in his father's twisted mind. And deep down inside of his mind, a part of him recognized something that he wouldn't consciously realize until later – that his father's hatred of humans would eventually lead him to try and hurt his Tamers, and he would have to do something about it. He wasn't quite ready to face that fact just yet, though, and so simply pushed it to the back of his mind for now.

Feeling much better except for the still-aching bruise and cut on his side, as well as the persistent gnawing of his stomach, Imouku set out to explore. At the moment he limited himself to the immediate area, and quickly found out that he not only had the bedroom he had slept in, there was a series of small doors that lead to a miniature library (blech, like he'd ever use that), a bathroom, a private dining room – how that was supposed to work he didn't know, and decided he'd get back to it later – and lastly, a set of doors that led out onto a balcony, giving him an excellent view of the plane the Citadel was located on.

As Imouku stepped out onto the balcony, he saw something very interesting – the plane that had seemed to be a featureless land of nothing but grass and sky when Imouku had traveled it to get to the Citadel was now dotted here and there with either very small lakes or very large ponds, accompanied by several good-sized orchards. All in all, it seemed to be a very comfortable place – for the moment. Imouku vaguely recalled the Combat Master saying something about plane's state depending entirely on the Citadel's Lord – his father. Apparently he was in good mood right now, then.

The redhead looked out over the plane for a few minutes, and blinked when he realized that there were Gijinka by the dozens spread out along the shores of the lake-ponds and gathered in groups among the orchards. They were working, gathering water and fruit, and though they were in hurry they seemed relatively happy, as far as Imouku could tell. It was then that a thought struck Imouku, one that left a slightly bitter taste in his mouth and decreased his appetite even further.

'If it wasn't for my father, they're be completely safe here. . .'

He leaned over the ledge of the balcony, trying to see how high up in the citadel his rooms were located, and when he was bent nearly double over the railing realized that he was very high up, indeed. He quickly leaned back to his original position, breathing rapidly – he had no desire to fall that far, thank you very much! Idly, the thought crossed his mind that Hirokazu must be somewhere in the Citadel, and he winced. If nothing else, he should at least get the Tamer out of here, where his life was so clearly in danger. With that thought in mind, his appetite completely left him and he took off at a dead run out of his rooms and through the twisting corridors. He wasn't sure where to go, but guessed that if he headed down, he would eventually find the annoying tamer.

Surprisingly, he didn't have to look for very long before he got a clue to the human's whereabouts – he just had to follow the sound of the terrible singing h heard rising up from the depths of the Citadel. After all, he'd know that voice anywhere – there was only one being in the worlds (except perhaps a drunk Gekomon) who would take a girlie J-Pop song and mangle it horribly, clearly with the sole intent of annoying someone.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but don't stop singing any time soon!" Imouku said, voicing his thoughts aloud as he ran through the corridors, ignoring the pain in his side from the steadily healing cut. The Citadel seemed to be virtually empty, perhaps because most of the Gijinka were out gathering food from the orchards that had sprung up – if this plane was as flexible as the Combat Master had said, those orchards could disappear at any time. Gradually, the detestable singing grew louder and louder as Imouku followed it through the Citadel, until finally Imouku stopped just outside of a sinister-looking door.

I was a deep ebony color and opened through handles that looked like they were made of bone. There was also the requisite barred window. It made Imouku want to gag – and did make him sweatdrop.

"Nice decorating job you did, Father," he muttered sarcastically as he tugged open the door and drudged don the much-darker hall – only to be virtually tackled by a frantic-looking Elecmon Gijinka. Imouku grunted with pain as Shurikasa crashed into him and started shaking him, he eyes wide with suffering and a fair amount of insanity.

"It's you, it's you," she yelped out. The Gijinka scout looked like she'd seen better days; her hair looked like she'd been actively trying to pull it out, and her clothing was torn in several places. "Please, please tell me you're getting him away from me! Please," she begged, tears falling from her panicked eyes as she continued to shake the hapless redhead she'd crashed into. Imouku grimaced and pushed her away from him, wincing.

"Get away from me, would you, crazy lady? You stink," he muttered, covering his nose with his right arm. The Elecmon Gijinka really did smell rather terrible. Imouku grimaced and tried to push past the crazy girl so he could get to the human he could hear singing loudly just down the hall. Then he paused as a thought struck him, and he glanced at Shurikasa. "You want to get him out of here?" He asked, his eyes narrowing as he thought. Upon seeing the other Gijinka's rapid nodding, he grinned. "Then you take him out of here and send him back to his friends – I'll even take the blame for his 'escape'."

The blue-haired Gijinka's eyes widened – she realized more than Imouku did what taking the blame for something – especially something as big as the escape of a human – really meant. Without another word she turned and went down the hall, stopping somewhere just out of sight – presumably at Hirokazu's location. Imouku remained where he was, and gave an audible sigh of relief when the horrible singing stopped at long last. If he ever had to hear "Step You" again it would be much, much too soon.

Moments later, Shurikasa appeared again, dragging a gagged Hirokazu towards the redhead. Imouku scowled at her even as he privately thought that the gag was a pretty good idea – it stopped the horrible singing, after all. Shurikasa saw Imouku's scowl, and tugged Hirokazu forward hard enough that the human boy stumbled and would have fallen to the ground if not for her grip on him. Her eyes narrowed and took on that slightly-insane look again as she said,

"If I have to take this annoying brat back to your little friends and leave him alive, the gag's going to stay."

Imouku growled lowly at her and replied, "You'd better not hurt him, either, or when you get there you're going to have some really angry Ultimates out for your blood."

Hirokazu jumped when he heard Imouku's voice, and the Tamer's eyes widened as he started flailing around, desperately trying to say something around the gag in his mouth. Shurikasa's face took on an annoyed expression and she went to backhand him, only stopped by Imouku grabbing her wrist and baring his teeth at her. Ignoring the Elecmon Gijinka and her slight flinching from his actions, Imouku glared directly into the human's eyes and spoke in a low voice. "Yes, it's me, yes, I'm a Gijinka, no, I'm not helping out the "bad guys" and you'd better behave on the way back to the village where everybody else is because I don't think Miss Fuzzy here has much patience left." He paused for a second and lowered his gaze, then looked at the human again with a sad but determined expression. "And tell Ai and Makoto that I'm sorry but I had to know," he added almost as an afterthought. Then he dropped Shurikasa's wrist and nodded, glaring daggers at her. "Get him to the Village – yesterday."

Shurikasa looked miffed, but nodded and said nothing, instead simply forcing Hirokazu to walk down the hall and towards the exit of the Citadel.

Anyone who walked into the Gijinka Village on the morning after Imouku arrived at the Citadel would have found it greatly changed from what it had been just a few days before. Realizing that war was coming to his people sooner rather than later, and that the Tamers would stop at nothing to get their friends back – for despite the Shaujinmon Gijinka's warnings, the close-knit group was determined to safely retrieve not only the human member of their team, but the Gijinka as well – Combat Master Garundo had been forced to change the Village from a peaceful refuge to an impromptu training camp. Nearly all able-bodied Gijinka were being prepared for the inevitable and rapidly approaching battle, while the remainder were tasked with preparing the young and frail for an evacuation. The Combat Master was no fool, and knew that should the upcoming fight go badly, none of the Villagers would be spared; not even the youngest Gijinka.

As for the tamers, they found themselves working harder than they had since the D-Reaper; even Shuichon, Lopmon, Kenta and MarineAngemon were getting a workout, just in case. They would be going with the evacuees, but Garundo was taking no chances. The twins were supposed to be going with them, but they continuously refused to go. After all, one of the friends that needed rescue was their partner, and they weren't going to just leave him. The other Tamers agreed; Ai and Makoto were their best shot at getting through to the redheaded Gijinka. None of the others, save maybe Reisei, were close enough to him to sway him from the Citadel if that was what needed to be done.

Still, none of the Village's residents were prepared for the entry of one well-known Citadel scout, dragging a very-obviously human boy with her, a slightly manic look in her eyes. The human and Gijinka both looked rather the worse for wear, although Hirokazu's eyes shown with fear rather than madness. The captor and captive were immediately surrounded by some of Garundo's best fighters – and the Tamers, who, while shocked by both Hirokazu's reappearance and his condition – spending all this time in a dungeon wasn't good on anyone -, were ready for anything that might happen. Guardromon was there as well, clearly wanting to step in and save his Tamer, but unable to do so with the grip the Elecmon Gijinka had on the human. Shurikasa grinned at the motley collection of humans, and tossed Hirokazu toward the Combat Master.

"A present from Imouku-sama," she said, grinning madly. "You get to keep him, I get to avoid his horrible singing, and Imouku-sama gets to be the one to face his dear daddy's wrath!" Even as the tamers gasped in a collective shocked breath – with the exceptions of Reisei, who already knew, Guardromon, who was too focused on his tamer to think of anything else, and Hirokazu, who was preoccupied with flying through the air – at the comment. Garundo easily caught the boy, who looked like he was very much in need of a rest, a bath, and perhaps some food, and passed him to one of the BlackGarurumon twins.

"Take him and his partner to the healer's; Elsara will take care of him." Immediately, the Shaujinmon turned his attention back to Shurikasa, and his eyes narrowed while he looked her over. "What has the Citadel done to you, that it has left you like this, Shurikasa?" He asked, concern and pity coloring his tone. Sighing, he shook his head. The Village didn't keep prisoners, and he wouldn't kill this pathetic, half-insane shamble of a Gijinka. "Let her go," the leader of the Village said, closing his eyes and bowing his head. Almost immediately he heard the sound of her bare feet slapping the earth as she took off.

The Tamers speculated among themselves for several minutes, but it was Ai who approached the Combat Master and quietly tugged on his hand.

"Combat Master-san? Is what the crazy lady said true? Is Im-chan's daddy there? Is he gonna hurt him?"

Garundo's eyes opened and he looked down at the little human girl and her brother, who had followed her to his side, and stared into their pleading, tearful eyes. Makoto bit his lip, and echoed his sister's plaintive inquiries with one of his own.

"Is Im-chan's daddy the bad guy?"

The Combat Master wished that he could tell them anything other than what they expected to hear - anything at all, but he could tell that they wouldn't accept anything less than the truth. And they didn't deserve anything less.

"Yes, children. Your partner's father is the Lord of the Citadel bent on destroying your world . . . as for hurting him, he already has." He turned away then so that he wouldn't have to see the increased pain in their eyes. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you anything different, children." The village returned to its mobilizing; however the Tamers and their partners remained clustered together, talking together about the information they had just learned. It explained a lot, but also brought them more confusion. Was Imouku still loyal to them? Had he betrayed them again, this time for his family instead of power? There were many questions, but no-one had any answers. Reisei admitted quietly that she had known for some time, and told her friends and Tamer all that she knew. In the end, they decided to trust in Imouku's bond with the twins and continue with their original goal, narrowing it down to rescuing him – especially when Reisei impressed upon him the dangerous situation the redhead was truly in.

And, in the midst of everything, somehow a single Dorimon toddler slipped past his caretakers and the guards, using his unique ability to get away without being seen. He followed Shurikasa to the Village gates, and then through the portal she made to the Citadel. Haseo was going to find his purple-red friend. This one decision, made on impulse by a toddler who didn't know any better, would be the trigger to many events that would haunt Imouku's nightmares for years to come.

Imouku didn't know what to expect when he was called to the library again, mere moments after getting Shurikasa and Hirokazu out of the Citadel. He hadn't even had time to go and find food before the summons arrived, courtesy of a timid blond Gijinka who, for some reason, was in his human form. Would his father be angry? Or disturbingly parental like he had the last time he'd seen him? He got his answer almost immediately as the doors to the room close behind him and a hand closed around his throat, lifting him from his feet, and he gazed into the incensed eyes of the GranDracmon Gijinka, who growled at him lowly and ignored the choked sounds the redhead emitted as he clawed for air.

"What did you think you were doing, setting that human free?!?" Youkano screamed at him, hissing at him and then tossing him away roughly, ignorant of the terror and pain he was causing his only child. Imouku scrambled away, trying to clear the burning feeling from his windpipe as he coughed. He hadn't gotten very far when his father grabbed the back of that infernal jacket he'd stuck him in and hauled him back to him, at least not choking him this time. "Did you forget that humans are our enemies?!?" His father roared, dragging him to face him again, only there wasn't a single ounce of his father in his appearance – no, there was only a monster who vaguely resembled his parent. This alone gave Imouku the strength to shake off his growing terror, and spit in the face of the one who'd sired him.

"The humans are your enemies! They're my friends!" He gasped out in a voice raspy from having just been choked. He couldn't have known that this was the exact worst thing he could have told the Gijinka in front of him as he was suddenly tossed away again, this time smacking against a bookshelf and tearing the stitches from the wound in his side, opening it anew. Imouku gasped and brought his hands to the injury. In a somewhat distracted manner, he realized he was shaking as his father advanced upon him once again.

"So you still labor under the mistaken belief that those creatures," Youkano spat out, albeit in an eerily calm voice, "would ever consider you a friend, do you?" Green eyes filled with madness flashed at him, and Imouku wondered distractedly if this was how those Digimon he had deleted felt, starting into the maddened eyes of their killer – but no, no, his eyes had been red then, red with corruption, his father's were still green, green fire, green emeralds that stared him down and bore into his mind, pulling, tearing, shredding to find what he wanted to destroy it, twist it to what he wanted. Imouku screamed, his bloody hands to his head as the pain of having his mind torn apart bore down upon him, shredding everything that held him together, everything that made him whole – but even as he screamed, he fought back, forced the monster-with-his-father's-face out, out, away from his mind it was his mind not his father's!

Images flashed through his tormented mind, fact combined with fiction – Ai and Makoto using him in a tug-of-war, Dukemon defeating him, Juri rejecting his help, pictures of Ai and Mako celebrating his absence, Dukemon, Sakuyamon, and SaintGalgomon watching him plunge to his death, saying "Good riddance," as he fell, Juri denying him forgiveness as he begged and pleaded on his knees before her. Image after image flashed through his pained mind, so many that he couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't any longer, and there was so much pain, so much, so much that he couldn't fight it, couldn't break free – and then voices, a cooling sensation against the burning of the images:

"You're our friend Impmon-chan!"

"Come home safe!"

"I forgive you . . ."

He focused on those sounds, ignoring the pain and the images, the painful memories and the fictitious betrayals, using them as his anchor to what he knew was real and what was right in his world, until finally, finally, the assault on his sanity ceased and he was left a shuddering, quivering mess lying on the floor of the Citadel's library with the smell of his own blood in his nostrils and the sound of his own hoarse, panicked breathing in his ears. He lay there for an undetermined amount of time, simply trying to gather himself, to remember where he was, who he was, to try and piece the broken puzzle his mind had become back together and patch it as best he could, while all the while the Citadel's ruler watched him, the insane light never once leaving his eyes. Finally, the GranDracmon Gijinka spoke again.

"Do you see now, my son? Placing your trust in these humans has brought and will continue to bring you only pain!"

Imouku shuddered, picked his head up from where he was lying, sprawled on the floor, and panted, locking eyes with the monster again, and he shook his head.

"The. . . the only thing I . .. I see . . . hurting me is. . . . is you. . ." He coughed out hoarsely, a spark of defiance flickering in his eyes, hard emeralds like his father's, only without the insanity. "You . . . . are the . . . .the only one I .. . .I can't . . . . can't trust," he said, collapsing back to the floor, his strength spent. Luckily, he was saved from more of his father's rage, as the GranDracmon Gijinka simply stormed out of the library instead of further attacking him. Imouku lay still, having no strength left to rise, no strength left to fight. . . He closed his eyes, hoping against hope that when he awoke again, it would be to find that this had all just been some sort of bizarre nightmare.

Yet even with his last conscious thoughts, he knew that what had just happened was far, far too real.

-TBC-