Disclaimer: Digimon, its plots, characters and concepts are not mine. They're belonged to such people as Toei Animation, Bandai and Saban. All are being borrowed and will hopefully be brought back as they were. No profit is being made, so please don't sue. Any quotes from the Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux aren't mine either. The Ghost Roads idea was borrowed from the Buffy Trilogy, The Gatekeeper I think. It's not mine either. Any original characters and this fic are mine.
Daisuke was not in a good mood.
He shuffled through the long grass, his hands stuffed into his pockets and his back slouched. The miserable expression on his face had already alerted several digimon whom had seen him pass. Daisuke did not act this way often, that they all knew well. But right then and there, Daisuke didn't care how he acted.
It felt odd to be walking through the Digital World alone. As he had told Takeru earlier, Chibimon was at home now, either stuffing himself with food that was in Daisuke's room or asleep in his bed. Both things the digimon liked to do. And here he was, walking towards a person he didn't really want to see right now and a lesson he didn't want to have. Oh yes, life was just so fair!
He dragged himself through the waist-high strands, really wishing he was somewhere else, or more to the point, that he was someone else. It was a lot more preferable to being Daisuke Motomiya right now, that was for sure. He stopped for a moment, lifting his head to the skies and letting the wind run through his hair, twisting the red strands to their will. He felt like a leaf in the wind sometimes - being yanked and pulled to everyone else's desire. It was like he couldn't do what he wanted. Ever.
He frowned for a moment, brown eyes narrowing with sudden realisation. Even though Ken was giving him lessons, and in theory, they were working together, he was still at his every beck and call. The lessons suited Ken's time and energy - it didn't matter if Daisuke had other things to do. He'd missed out on so many things by coming to these lessons, so many meetings and everyone was starting to become suspicious: Takeru had proved that.
Why should he do it then? He had things to do for once, and he was already late. Sure Ken'd yell at him for not showing up, but he'd yell at him if he came now as well. There was no way to escape it. Yes, that was what he'd do. He'd show Ken that he couldn't boss him around!
With a defiant toss of his head, Daisuke turned and walked back the way he'd come.
He was once more wading through the long grasses when he remembered the silver object he'd seen before. A frown once again creasing his lips, he turned and looked around the grass critically, trying to remember where he'd seen it. Yes... that was where it had been, wasn't it? Feeling as if he was doing something right for the first time in a long time, he made his way over to the spot, groping through the grasses determinedly.
He fingers brushed something solid and cool. With a leap of joy, his hand closed around it - and something hurt. Hurt a lot. With something between a cross and a yelp, Daisuke hauled his hand out of grass and stared at it in amazement.
The silver brooch had cut through his glove again, so deep it had cut deeply into his palm, deeper than before. Blood gushed through the yellow material, and Daisuke could only stare at it in dismay. Then he turned his attentions to the brooch and he promptly forgot the pain and the blood.
It was a beautiful brooch, pure silver, despite the speckles of red that had come from being nestled in his wound. The reason for having received the wound in the first place was the long, curving spikes that decorated the edges of the brooch. In the dead centre was a large ruby that glimmered and shone in the sunlight. Daisuke stared at it mesmerised.
And then... he couldn't quite explain it later, but he felt like it had been a caressing, velvet voice that spoke of the seas and the deserts and the skies and the forests, that whispered to him. Put the brooch on...
And he did, his fingers fumbled as he slid the pin through the material and clasped it back on, with fingers that had dried blood on them. And it was only when the clasp was tightened securely, did he seem to snap out of whatever trance he had been in, and stare in surprise at the brooch he couldn't remember putting on.
And deep in the ground, something laughed. The laughter wasn't human.
The Ghost Roads have been there since the world began. Legend claims that they were there when our world was still gases and non-solid. They say it was the link between heaven and hell then. This is where those who cannot go to either realm reside, walking endlessly on roads that never end until they are permitted to heaven or damned to hell. They do nothing but walk, remembering. Remembering their human lives so clearly it hurts them. It hurts them so much.
The roads they walk upon can hardly be seen, as they are covered in shrouding grey mists that spin and curl around them as they walk, their minds blank and their eyes dull. Most of them now realise they will walk there forever, just on the roads, as they have given up hope. Others just begin to believe this is their final step before going into hell. They refuse to believe in heaven anymore. The few that still believe they will be saved are far and few between. But they refuse to give up.
A man walks upon the roads. Dressed in the garb of his time and station, the faded leather uniform of a warrior, he walks, his booted feet making no sound in this world of greyness. His blood red, spiked hair waves gently in the breeze, as he walks. His skin is eternally tanned, the caramel colour been there when he was born. It was still there when he died.
His eyes are the deepest brown imaginable. Once they were sparkling and shining with life. He had everything - fame, a modest fortune, adoring women, an occupation he could never fail in. But then, that all ended when he met it...
Now Daiseus walks, his eyes grim, hard and cold, full of anger and a hatred he can only barely understand. His sword is buckled at his waist, as is his axe. His many knives, daggers and other equipment are hidden in various parts of his uniform. It all ended when he met it - the vampire.
He, with his dark hair, pale skin and emerald eyes. He, with his voice that spoke of all the places he had never seen or been to. He, who seduced him and promised him all the things in the world. And he who gave him his gift, the Kiss of Death.
Now Daiseus walks the Ghost Roads, unwillingly to go to heaven and unwilling to go to hell. He stays in the Ghost Roads for one purpose alone: revenge. He knows someday someone will find a way to kill the vampire. And when he does, Daiseus will be ready and waiting for him.
And Daiseus will prove to him there are worse things than death.
The ceiling was entirely white, the colour running smoothly with no hint of a break anywhere. Whoever had previously painted it had done one hell of a job. This was one of the thoughts that ran rampant through Takeru's mind, as he stared vacantly up at the ceiling of his room, his mind only barely on the subject of the paint. He was much more concerned about the groaning heap of responsibility Daisuke had dumped onto his lap. How was he supposed to keep this a secret from the others, when Daisuke could end up hurting them, unintentionally though it might be?
Daisuke was his friend. He couldn't betray him and tell the others his secret... but hadn't Daisuke kept it from him for weeks? If he hadn't followed Daisuke this afternoon, he still wouldn't have known about it! He didn't owe Daisuke anything, and the others deserved to know. But he couldn't blame Daisuke for being afraid and freaking out. He couldn't blame him for begging him to keep it a secret. None of the others would be happy to learn Daisuke had been with Ken.
Daisuke and Ken. The very thought made his stomach queasy, even though he knew they hadn't been together that way. Ken was only teaching Daisuke. He wasn't doing... anything else to him. Daisuke would have been far more defensive about it if they had. He hoped. He didn't know what to believe anymore. But what he was beginning to suspect, was that he had one hell of a crush on Daisuke. This was not good.
Maybe I should have a talk with Yamato, Takeru thought miserably. With Taichi as his boyfriend, he'd have lots of advice. The blonde and brunette had officially been an item for over a year now, but they all knew the two had been beating around the bush about it since they had been in the Digital World all those years ago, and had been first discovering their feelings for each other. Yes, that what I'll do, the younger blonde decided. Yamato will know what to do.
As if hearing his thoughts, the doorbell rang. Hauling himself off of the bed, Takeru padded through the apartment he and his mother shared and opened the door, to see Yamato standing there. Takeru blinked. "Fancy seeing you here."
Yamato raised an eyebrow. "Not exactly the greeting I was expecting. My visits aren't becoming that irregular are they?"
Takeru snapped out of his daze. "No, it's nothing like that. I was just... I was planning on going over to see you right now, and you came... and that's basically it." He stepped back and opened the door wider to allow his older brother to come in.
"Ah, the amazing power of coincidence," Yamato remarked as he stepped inside. "It's great, isn't it?" He looked around at the immaculate apartment with incredulous eyes. "How does Mom manage to keep this place so clean?! Dad would have a fit."
"Yeah," Takeru agreed. "One of the benefits of living with Mom. At least my future college roommate wouldn't be able to accuse me of being a slob!" He made a weak grin at this. Yamato was instantly on red alert. Takeru never made weak grins.
"So," he said slowly, walking over to a chair and settling down on it. "Is there anything you want to talk about with me?"
God, do you want a list? "Well, there is something I want to talk to you about," Takeru replied hesitantly, sitting down on a chair near his brother. He stared down at the floor with a fixed expression in his eyes.
Yamato waited for him to continue, and when he didn't, gently prodded him. "And that is?"
Can I tell him this? What if he'll laugh at me? But what have I got to lose? It's not like Daisuke really likes me. "Well... there's someone I like. But this someone doesn't know that I like them. And even if they did, they probably don't like me." He was very careful not to be a gender on "this someone". No use giving his brother an early hint yet. "And... I don't know whether to keep these feelings to myself or tell them."
For a moment Yamato didn't reply, deep in thought. Takeru squeezed his eyes shut and began to imagine all the terrible things Yamato would say and do to him about this, as a teasing brother. It never occurred to him that Yamato would understand, and probably already knew. Takeru didn't realise he hadn't been exactly subtle about his feelings towards his best friend.
Then Yamato began to speak. "So, in other words, you've a desperate crush on Daisuke and you don't know whether to tell him about it or not." At his younger brother's stunned look, Yamato smirked and began to laugh. "What, you think I haven't noticed?!"
"You - you knew?!" Takeru answered in a hoarse whisper. He felt like he had just been punched in the stomach. Yamato knew? He knew?!?! Hold on, if he knew then what about- "Who else knows?!" he demanded.
"Well, there's me and there's Taichi. Don't worry, no one else knows precisely what signs to look for." Yamato smiled. "Calm down Takeru, it's no big deal. Taichi wanted to drag you two into a room and lock you in there until you told Daisuke your feelings for him. Luckily, I managed to talk him out of it." This time both brothers grinned. That seemed like something Taichi would do all right.
Takeru let out a deep breath and rubbed his forehead. This hadn't been the greatest of days, that was for sure. He felt like his head was going to explode from everything he'd found out. "So, what do I do? Do I tell him or keep it to myself?"
Yamato stared at him. "Are you mad? You have to tell him! If you don't, it'll eat you up until you end up blurting it out to him in a very wrong way." Yamato grimaced. "Trust me, I speak from experience." When Taichi had finally found out about Yamato's feelings for him it had been a very embarrassing situation for Yamato, since Taichi had been on a date at the time... with a girl. He'd been very lucky that Taichi had returned his feelings.
Takeru sighed reluctantly. "I guess you're right," he said doubtfully, not looking very convinced at all.
Yamato stared very hard at his brother, and then stood up. "Look, it seems to me that you need to think hard about this, so I'll leave you alone. If you need any more advice you know where I am." Smiling, he turned and left the apartment quietly.
Takeru turned his attention to the ceiling of the kitchen. There was no break here either.
It tossed restlessly in its prison, writhing from the sheer glory of the power it felt. Oh the power! It shrieked in pain and in amazement. The power this boy held was incredible! And soon, it would be under its control. All under its control.
Emerald eyes gleaming, it tilted its head upwards, towards the sky, hidden by the many feet of earth above it, pressing down on it. Emerald eyes burning with an inhuman flame, the vampire sent The Call: Follow me, young one. Follow me and trust me. Trust me and obey me, pretty one. Follow me... follow me... follow me into hell...