Koichi tore through the hall and down the stairs, legs propelling him with such speed he sometimes felt like he might fly off the planet all together. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking... He wanted to be off the planet. He wanted to be as far away form Tache and Koji and Dorian and everyone else as he possibly could. He wanted to get away from fear and anxiety and the constant doubt that poured from his friends like water from a fountain. He wanted to crawl into a dark hole and forget there was such a thing as friendship. Pretend, just for a moment, their opinions didn't matter.

Needles sprayed his chest with each breath and as one foot squealed on the smooth surface of some landing between floors, memories brought a bitter taste into his mouth. Koichi wanted to get away from those too, but like most things we actively try to push from our minds, a nagging voice kept bringing it to the forefront. When this all began, he'd been running. Chasing some dream down the stairs as if through desire alone he could achieve it. Then he'd fallen… The thought put lead into his limbs and ice into his heart. His lungs began to burn and his winged feet began to drag. Nausea churned in his stomach, pushing its way up his esophagus. Making his jaw ache and his vision darken. The harder he pushed, the more his body revolted, refusing to cooperate with even the simplest of tasks.

Almost without conscious consent, his gait grew sluggish, hands reaching out to steady his balance on the rail. And finally, desperate as he was to get away from it all, his legs just weren't strong enough to take him there, and his heart just didn't have the endurance to push him onward. Slowing to a jog, then to a walk, Koichi fell against a wall on the third floor landing, breathing hard. His hands stood out white as they gripped the silver railing, his sweat-dampened forehead leaning against cool drywall. Hot breath felt like sandpaper over his lips as he tried in vain to quench the burn in his gut. Pain in his head hit him like a siren's wail, quiet at first, then suddenly deafening, almost surprising. Surprising enough, at least, to distract him from controlling his stomach. Koichi's knees buckled and he retched, shuddering at the sick smacking sound the contents of his stomach made as they splattered on the tile. And the smell… His whole body contracted with such force he was sure some internal organ was coming up this time. This continued for some number of minutes, until finally, shaking violently, he managed to push back away from the wall. Scooting across the floor, his back met something solid, maybe the stairs he'd come down. Unable to summon the will to even determine what that something was, let alone continue, he pulled his knees to his chest and buried his splitting head in them, wrapping his arms around his torso.

It was stupid to run off on his own, he knew that. He'd known it when the thought had first crossed his mind, known it when he opened the door. But he did it anyway. He hadn't known what else to do. How he was supposed to stay in that room with Koji yelling and thoughts that didn't belong to him racing across his mind? How he was supposed to face his friends and admit that his brave declarations about being able to keep Duskmon- Tache, out of his head hadn't even lasted six hours? And he definitely didn't know how he was supposed to endure their attempts to understand. Then, in that moment the lights flickered, the answers came to him, simple: he couldn't. He'd told them he was strong enough, but under the critical glares of his friends and brother Koichi felt that strength wilt. And none of them couldn't afford for it to wilt. So yes, it was stupid to run away, stupid and selfish. But he hadn't had any other choice.

Now that he was alone the feeling of foolishness set in. Sweat made his flesh clammy and his cloths stick to his body uncomfortably. Their high school uniform, black and stylish as it may be, was not designed for exercise and the stiff fabric bunched painfully under his knees. I could go back, he thought to himself morosely. Apologize for storming off. Or I could just wait here. Even if he's mad, Koji won't leave me, right? The voice in his mind didn't sound very convinced, and Koichi had to admit it had good reason to be skeptical. Koji wasn't just mad, he was furious, and when he got furious he lashed out. It wasn't something that happened often, but when he got into one of his snits, Koji could be really petty. And that was when his brother wasn't even the cause of his aggravation! This time, directly or indirectly, Koichi was at fault. That, too, was something he knew in his gut. What had he expected when he'd requested his brother lie to their friends? How did he think the younger twin was going to react when asked to go against his conscience? He'd known it was all too much to ask of Koji, but he'd done it anyway. In a vain attempt to save his ego, he'd done it anyway and look where it got him. Tired, sweat-slicked, and collapsed in a solitary pool of self-pity. Maybe it was the running… or the puking, but the whole thing made him feel sick.

"I hope you weren't expecting anyone else to clean that up."

The sudden voice startled Koichi, even though he didn't show it. His body felt to exhausted to jump, let alone turn to face whoever had come after him. As if he needed to; he already knew who it was, and it wasn't someone he wanted to face anyway. To be fair, Koichi wasn't in the mood to face anyone, but really, why did it have to be him.

"What do you want?" He'd meant the words to be harsh and hostile, but they came out just tired, the tenor of his voice made raw from stomach acid. There was a moment of silence long enough to give Koichi some hope that the intruder had given up and left him to his misery. Then came the sigh and footfalls, heavier now, resigned to whatever fate he'd decided was coming.

"You made quite the mess," said Dorian, settling himself on the steps just above Koichi and rubbing his fingertips together.

"I'm sorry my vomit offends you." He wasn't sorry; they both knew it.

"Although truly revolting, that wasn't actually the mess to which I was referring. Your friends weren't really handling this well to begin with and now, after your little outburst, I'm not convinced they will be able to-"

"Are you done," Koichi snapped.

"No."

"Go away. I want to be alone."

"None of you seem to realize the gravity of the situation-"

"I don't want you here!"

"That makes two of us!" It was the first time Koichi actually, truly, believed something that had come out of Dorian's mouth, the first time his words had held any passion. Dorian let out a low sigh, running his fingers through his hair to regain his composure. "Nevertheless, I am here. And I'll be staying here until your mess is cleaned up."

"It's not just my mess."

"Yes it is. You may have those friends of yours eating out of your hand, believing that you're somehow innocent in all this. But you and I both know the truth. We both know exactly what-"

"Have you ever been dead before?" Koichi cut him off, feeling the life begin to seep back into his body. He knew better than to try and move, that would just start his head spinning again, but a verbal confrontation was starting to feel more bearable. Dorian didn't respond. Koichi pushed. "Have you?!"

"No," answered Dorian, his voice unreadable.

"It's horrible. It's dark and cold and there's nothing there but your regrets. Like some kind of test, some sort of exercise to help lost spirits find peace. By confronting them with everything they resent. And if you don't pass that test, everything that was good about you gets stripped away and you become a vengeful spirit and then… there's nothing. There's no turning back."

The silence that followed was long and heavy. Koichi could hear Dorian breathe behind him, the sound mixing with his own rushing blood until it became an overbearing cacophony in his ears. Just as he was about to brave standing up and escaping, Dorian spoke.

"I've never been dead before, but I have had that same experience."

Koichi's head snapped up and he turned in an effort to meet Dorian's gaze. The world kept spinning after his body ceased to move and his hands gripped the stair lip in a vain attempt to hold his mind still. Dorian waited patiently for the dark twin to collect himself, his face sad and pensive. As if it wasn't really Koichi he was waiting for, but someone entirely different- someone who'd braved the icy tundra of his heart and settled in a single, lonely warm place therein.

"There were three of us: Ysault, Avril, any myself. Charity, Justice, and Loyalty. And after a while… we just couldn't keep ourselves together. Avril was the first to leave, convinced of the merits of her own foolish plans and tired of my refusal to accept them. And then I went after Avril, abandoning Ysault. I wasn't worried because, through all of it, we three had our Digimon partners and nothing bad could happen to us as long as they were around. Or so I believed.

"My partner was a Gomamon- a sassy little ass. She used to tease me relentlessly. Stupid things, like how I had to be sent to another world to land myself a date or how I spent too much time on my hair. Drove me crazy, but she was always there when I needed her. Always by my side, telling me I was making a bad decision but staying behind me nevertheless. She worried about me. I never realized it at the time, but she must've been constantly sick with worry. And I'm sure she resented how I never listened to her. The irony is, while I was so apt to pick out the emotional flaws of others, the "darkness" within them that Tache could exploit, I never even entertained the thought that my own partner might be depressed. That she might be lonely...

"One morning I woke up and she was gone. Vanished into the night, just like that. I was on my own at that point, so there was no one on watch duty as I slept. No one to help me look. She'd said something the night before about the cave, said she didn't like the feel of it. She even begged me to move, to push on just a little further, but that cave was the first shelter I'd seen in miles and that night was the first sleep I'd had in days. These are just excuses, of course. Just lies I tell myself to try and lessen the blame. Gomamon going missing was my fault and what happened to her while she was gone… was also my fault.

"I found her deep in the cave, so deep that even when I tried to go back to search the surrounding desert, I couldn't find the exit. There wasn't one, of course, but I wanted to find it. I wanted to believe that what I found was a lie and she'd actually gone out to get some food or something and was waiting for me at the mouth."

Koichi's mouth was dry, a sickness gurgling once again in the pit of his stomach. But this wasn't the kind of sickness the body can expel and, the longer his navy eyes stared into those icy blue chasms, the more intense it got. Finally, swallowing his pride and fear, Koichi spoke in a small, feeble voice.

"What happened to Gomamon?"

"You know what happened. And you know what I had to do about it."

"No… No, you couldn't have…"

"There's no saving Tache's host, not matter who it is. It was the only thing to do so I did it."

Something hot burned in Koichi's eyes, blurring his vision. He could see it like it was his own memory: the cave, the dark, the black and soulless eyes. Dorian's anguish burned in his chest and he knew what came next. He knew what he needed to ask, knew what he was going to hear, but the words stuck in his throat with the tears, holding his breath. Dorian watched him struggle, his face cold and passive, his eyes gleaming with something that might've been either satisfaction or pity.

"Why do you hate me," he whispered. There was a long, unbearable pause.

"It's obvious. I went down into that darkness looking for my friend and what I found was you in her skin."

"I'm sorr-"

"I don't want to hear it. It doesn't matter. It doesn't change what you've done or what you're going to do. Still, I'll give you some advice, just between the two of us: don't let anyone close to you. We're already damned, you and I, but they don't have to join us. Push them away. Make them stop caring about you and, more importantly, force yourself to stop caring about them; that's all you can do. You've done it before. Should be easy enough to do it again."

A single tear broke free and rolled down the side of his nose. The rest went cold and dried in his eyes. His chest was hollow and… there were no words to describe the absence of feeling inside him. As if the conflicting thoughts and emotions had already battled and destroyed each other, leaving the vacuum into which Dorian's words settled like dust. Soft navy met icy blue and, in that moment, the two understood one another.

"Is that what you did," he asked, voice little more than a whisper in the stagnate air. Dorian smiled mirthlessly, leaning towards him to whisper back.

"It's what I wish I'd done."