Author's Notes
There's an undefined time skip between the last chapter (the real world parts) and this one. Suffice to say, everyone's out of school. Beyond that is kind of irrelevant.
You notice I haven't mentioned what happens after the events of the last chapter, ie. do the kidnappers strike again and go for Kouji, or is the analysis of the…part of lung enough to catch them, or does Kousei wind up paying them in fear they'll take his other son too? And how many are caught (if they are)? Is it enough to stop the trade, or does the main brunt leave and start again somewhere else? That's not the point of the story, so I didn't specify. Please note though you can't stop such a thing forever. After all, children are still getting kidnapped and sold as slaves today and the trade started hundreds of years ago. The summary and title are a tad misleading in that sense. That was on purpose mind you. What it really referred to (in part) was the slave trade mentioned here in the epilogue. The last chapter should be more clearer once you've read it, but just in case, the parts with Kouichi in them were either in a shipping container being shipped abroad with other "potential slaves" and the last scene was at the plantation mentioned in this epilogue. The other man was also a slave, but of a different sort. Remember the convicts? Some of them rose in rank, but they were still slaves in essence. Still tied down.
As for what happened with Kouichi…I guess I do have to explain myself after all. I was hoping to avoid that, but I suppose it was a little too sublime if you didn't read the finer points carefully (or forgot the previous chapters in waiting for updates). What physically happens to Kouichi isn't really of any importance. Mentally…it's to do with the connection between himself and Lowemon, which because he didn't physically go to the DW turned out to be stronger than that of the other LWs. His soul pretty much became unstable rather quickly (aka. The migraines and memory issues) in the real world and began to fasten itself into Lowemon's personality fully. By the end of that process, Kouichi is still alive (he was the character in the alternating scenes with Lowemon, so he was the one who spoke in Japanese at the end – I didn't mention him by name, because do you count "Kouichi" as the body or the soul? Another interesting thing to think about), but the reality he perceives (the more clear of the reality vs. dreamscape) is that of the Digital World, not what his body is living out. So essentially the reality becomes his dream and the dream/DW his reality. At that point Lowemon can no longer sense Kouichi's presence/actions/what not in the real world (the last chapter) except as blotted out dreams because essentially that is what is left. In a way you can look at it as escaping into an alternate reality. He was lucky in a sense, because he had that to fall onto when he lost everything else, and that kept him going. You'll see what I mean in this chapter. It's very easy to lose hope. It happens to the others too, but much more slowly because their soul isn't as unstable because their bodies went with them to the Digital World. Kouichi's body remained in the real world, so the connection deteriorates far quicker. Because this fic is largely omnipresent POV, it's a little difficult to portray clearly. But remember it was Kouichi initially having those blotted out dreams. His became clearer as Lowemon's waned into that black confusion. That's why what happens to Kouichi's physical form is left ambiguous. If I specified whether he lived or died, continued as a slave forever or escaped or was set free or whatever, you'd get caught up in that ending and not think about the main points. This is one of those fics that is designed to make people think, but I suppose I owed you guys that explanation at least.
Okay, that wasn't that long in my head. At least it's still under 2000 words, otherwise it wouldn't be much of an "epilogue". I've always seen them as shorter than the actual chapters…but the lengths always get messed up.
And this is it. You know, with all the ways this fic could have gone, it was quite difficult having to end it. Hence why it's a little open ended. There were several endings that could have gone down, but I'm not a fan of multiple endings…not for a single fic anyway. And no sequel...even though I guess there is room for one after this epilogue. It's an open ended ending. From there on out, it's what you readers think. I don't think a closed ending would work here anyway.
Anywho, hope you enjoyed this very confusing ride (and I thought Bloodstained Night was bad). And thanks to everyone who reviewed, favourite, alerted or just plain stuck with this fic. It's thanks to you guys that we're here.
Enjoy the last instalment to Slaves to the Trade. See you all later. :)
Slaves to the Trade
Money. Power. Domination. These things caused his world to be stripped away. 'You may hold my body, but my soul is free.' Can that truth be saved, or is it doomed to be forever squelched beneath a master?
Character/s: Kouichi K
Genre/s: Drama/Angst
Rating: T
Epilogue
'What are we doing out here?' Kouji half-groaned to himself, not even sparing a glance at his companion as he trudged through desert sand in black boots. It was actually a smarter idea than it sounded like; while the black conducted heat, it became trapped in the plastic, making the outer surface feel like a furnace but the inside rather nice and cool…all things considering. Suffice to say, their feet weren't baking…although the same thing couldn't be said about their heads.
'Do we have to wear these dumb helmets?' Takuya groaned fully. Apparently those two were still inseparable, although how they both wound up in this particular situation was beyond them. After all, the raven was a doctor currently doing overseas volunteering in third world countries hit rather badly by the famine, and Takuya was with a completely different volunteering agency doing a rather rudimentary job at making sure to keep as many people alive. That job varied between shooting at soldiers or civilians at the verge of a civil war to simply shepherding supplies and aid around countries.
They supposed it was entirely by coincidence that they wound up at the same camp and trooping off to some sort of massive plantation in a pair formation. Actually, there were two more pseudo-soldiers behind them, but they had apparently formed a pair as they were chatting away with no regard to their two companions…much like them in fact.
'Yes we do,' Kouji sighed. 'Apparently there's some sort of uprising.'
'Well, they keep slaves there,' the other exploded, throwing up his hands with more energy than any other would like to spare. 'Were they expecting it to be fine and dandy forever? If they do get killed, it'll be no more than they-'
'Don't even say it,' the other interrupted, and the brunette fell silent.
'Sorry,' he said, after a small pause. 'But…you know.'
'I know.'
'Finally,' the female soldier behind them sighed, taking off her helmet and wiping the sweat away before replacing it over blonde hair. 'Good thing all we had to do was go straight.'
Kouji looked a little blank at that. 'We just went straight?' he muttered to himself.
'Apparently.' Takuya, funnily enough, looked just as lost, before he shook his head. 'Really, it's a miracle I made it through high school. But everything goes topsy turvy one moment, an d then it's crystal clear and fresh the next, almost like the smell of freshly baked bread and charcoal chicken if you get my drift...'
'Everything except for the food references,' the other said, looking skyward. 'It's more like…well, yin and yang for me. During the day, anything clear seems to be light while some important stuff lurk behind the shadows, and it flips at night when I'm asleep.'
'You never can stay up anymore.' It had started during their final year of elementary school, when they'd lost one of their own, and it had persisted. It probably would persist until Kouji found his brother and the twins pulled their balancing act again, but it had been so long someone could easily walk past the other and not even know it. Not them though. Especially not after they'd started dreaming clearly about the Digital World and the digimon happily living even as they caved under the constant pressure of a new war. They saw very little of the war though, even if they saw a lot of its effects. Effects that were paralleled by their own changes in personality…or perhaps it was the other way around. It was hard to tell. They did know though that Lowemon seemed to be doing well. Better than their partners if truth be told. As if there was some burden they were carrying that he wasn't. And no-one could fathom that to be a bad thing.
They stepped over the threshold, looking for a moment at the dried plantation that had soaked up years of unjust labour, and then Kouji was suddenly hit with a strong and almost dizzying sense of déjà vu.
'Minamoto-kun,' the male behind them shouted in alarm as he swooned, but he forced himself straight again. The next moment, he was running across the field into the warehouse that barely stood…before freezing in the doorway.
It was evident that a minor uprising had taken place and forcefully quelled. As in beaten out of the boy who was stretched in the middle, slumped over upon his own body. No-one else came near him. Most were staring at various parts of the wall with blank eyes.
He cleaned the boy up and then covered him. It was all he could do; the eyes were not hollow like the rest, but undeniably dead, snuffed out with the force of a hammer…or a shovel coated in dried blood. One girl towards the end trembled, a collar around her neck. A closer inspection told him they all wore collars. Some had been dented with something hard, but they had endured still. Others were melted slightly as if they had been burnt in white fire.
The black-haired girl in the corner looked up at him. The rest ignored him…and Takuya when he came.
'Are you here to take us home?' she asked, surprisingly in Japanese.
'Yeah…we are.' For some reason, her face looked familiar.
He knelt in front of her, gently touching the burnt skin. Pained, she flinched but made no move to comfort herself. Even her eyes did not react. It was almost as if the pain to her body was separate to her soul.
'Can you tell me where your home is?'
She shook her head, eyes starting to brim with tears. 'I don't have one, do I? Slaves have only here, and the land.'
'The land wasn't growing anything.' That was Takuya, who had matured greatly over the years, the hot flame buried deep within his heart. 'I have a very hard time believing these guys are all that much at fault. Except perhaps…' His voice trailed off.
'It is hard to hold on to things when they're not there anymore,' Kouji said slowly, and barely realising the words escaping from his mouth. 'But that doesn't mean they die. It just makes them less concrete. More abstract.'
His eyes lifted, before falling against an old rusted piece of metal the girl clung to.
'What is that?'
Blue eyes peeked at him, before she uncurled her fist. The other drew in a gasp as he noted the symbol carved, as if in everlasting ink, outliving the metal itself.
'Wha…how...where…' His brain scrambled for a foothold, but he couldn't bring himself to hope something had changed over the years. He didn't feel any different. Their connection was still stretched. Far away, the Digital World was still hovering on the brink of war while living out their lives. Much like they were, as emissaries of peace and justice.
Except they weren't really doing it because it was what they wanted to spend the rest of their lives doing. Nay…it was more for a different sort of dream. They were content, or as content as they could bring themselves to be, but the world no longer had anything to offer them, save each other. None of them were married. Their parents had all passed on. Tomoki's brother had married a fine young woman and now had kids of his own. Shinya was travelling around the world becoming the next soccer player who people all over would remember the name of.
'I don't know,' the girl said quietly. 'There was just something about it. Something that said I had to look after it. To give it to someone.'
Then she held out her palms and offered it to him, smiling slightly.
'I think it wants to go with you.'
Kouji took it, the dry crusted metal with the white symbol of darkness, flaked with red and black and brown. Blood, he thought. And dirt.
He wasn't sure he had ever believed that, that even if you killed a body, a spirit could live on. But his brother's spirit wasn't alive in the end at all, was it? His eyes, for the first time in years, gave way to tears, running freely down his cheeks. It was just his memories, and his touch, living behind in an old hunk of metal.
But that depended on how one chose to define the spirit.
Takuya's hand patted his shoulder, somewhat awkwardly, and the girl curled up in fear. 'Did I do something wrong?' she asked, talking in the native tongue of the land.
'No, you didn't.' It was Kouji who replied, slipping into the same, although to him unfamiliar dialect and clutching the metal hard enough to draw blood. He'd finally remembered, after the thought completely slipped his mind, where he'd seen the girl before. On the news, quite recently. Another kidnapping. They were awfully common after all. This one had been in Chiba about six months ago.
Years and years too late. But at least there were some people.
'We're going to take you home.'
She looked at him.
'Do you know where my home is?'
He nodded.
A little later, he watched the barren landscape pass by. Those children, or teenagers would be going home, but to what? They would be going home too, but again, to what? It felt like all of them were drifting somewhere, trying to cling to something. There were times where he felt far more grounded in his dreams. Where he wished he really was still in the Digital World, with the fresh grass under his feet and the sweet breeze blowing on his face and in his hair…
His cell phone rang and he automatically answered it, not even realising Takuya following his every motion.
'Minamoto,' he said curtly.
'Are you ready to come home?' was the reply.
Ofanimon…
Home was where the heart was after all.