Seiji -- …

Duo-kun -- Uhh… K-chan doesn't own Digimon…

K-chan -- *glares at muses* SHUT UP! I know this chapter is bad! Err… this is the first 'real' chapter, and likewise, it's really not that good. Hopefully, the next will improve it (especially because in the next chapter couples will start to show up and things will actually be interesting). Right now, this is somewhat like prolog number two, and it's also much shorter than most chapters will be. Umm… yeah.

Seiji -- This is K-chan's entry for the all-mighty-Vain-sama's Kaiken contest; likewise, this will contain yaoi and yuri. At the moment, there is nothing of that sort but maybe a mild hinting, but in the next chapter, things will become clear. The rating will go up to R, and maybe even NC-17, so although this chapter is clean, be prepared for more grievous things to come. Thank you. Please review if you have the time.

Wormmon -- I'm in this chapter! I'm in this chapter!

K-chan -- Sorry that this is a day late. Next chapter should be out on Thursday, Febuary 14th, or the next day if things go wrong. Anyway… if I spelled a Digimon name wrong, or worse yet, the last name of a character, PLEASE let me know. I have seen them romanticized so many different ways that I'm more then likely using made up versions. Bah.

____ Not Quite Whole

Chapter One :: Prophetic Dreams

Wormmon was shocked.

No, shocked didn't cut it. He was beyond shocked- as well as scared, confused, proud, lost, miserable, cheerful, and many other emotions rolled in to one. His eyes were rapidly looking at the two figures sprawled on the floor in front of him, feeling slightly dazed at this new development. He might not be the smartest, or the wisest Digimon in the Digiworld, but he did know that the event that occurred was NOT supposed to happen under any circumstances. Humans weren't supposed to do what his Master had just done- he knew that!

Still, he looked back and forth at the two figures lying on the floor. Yes, they were definitely who he thought they were- one with his spiked up hair and outlandish purple and blue clothing, the other with the chin length indigo locks and the dull gray school uniform. He recognized both of them well, too well almost. Both meant the world to the small digimon, after all- how could he not recognize them? But yet…

Wormmon shook his small head.

With cleverness that came from much practice, he ran and wet two washcloths before running back to the two boys. Moving from one to the other, he tried washing off the blood that stained them both, although to his surprise he could find no visible cuts that the blood had came out of. He ignored it, though- his Master could figure it out, after all- his Master was smarter than anyone he had ever heard of was! He didn't need to worry about it, he just needed to make sure that everything was clean and that his Master was happy- or at least as happy as he got.

As Worrmon tried washing the left wrist of the grey-suited Ken, the other, in the Digimon Kaizer clothing slowly started to stir. Quickly abandoning the boy, he hurried to his Master's side, looking with worry at him as he shook his head back and forth once or twice. The expression of disgust that crossed his face as he pushed himself in to a sitting position would have been humorous if it was on anyone but the Digimon Kaizer- however, being it was on him, he only looked regal, as always.

Worrmon eeped, and slipped out of the room before the Kaizer noticed him. He wanted to see his Master's reaction to this new predicament before being noticed first.

He was standing on sand, gray sand. Somewhere, an ocean roared, waves crashing angrily against dark colored rocks. Under his feet, the sand shifted, sinking down, covering his ankles alarmingly. He tried to move, to get to the water, wherever it was- he knew he would be safe there. But the sand wouldn't allow him, the sand controlled him, and he continued standing.

A deep voice- laughing, echoing, rang in to his ears, spreading it's evil like poison. It laughed at him, at his madness, at his insecurity. He opened his mouth, glad that he could, and started to scream, but no sound came out. The laughter grew louder, until their were two people laughing- and the new voice was familiar, oh so familiar, he had heard it all his life, everyday that he could remember.

Something hit his back, causing him to arch away from the pain. He wanted to run, to get away, but the sand still held him. The same object hit his back again, and somehow, he knew it would leave red welts running from side to side there. He realized that he had let out a sound, a whimper. For some reason, he knew he shouldn't have, as now only the newer voice was laughing, and it was close- too close, it was right there, right next to him, right behind him!

The feel of soft but cold fabric on his shoulders made him wince, but he still couldn't move besides his facial expersions. A voice "Tsk"ed in his ear, and he was aware that he whimpered again, as the arm that had been on his left shoulder dropped to wrap around his waist, freeing him from the sand, but pulling him against a well-musled body. The right arm still stroked his shoulder, his neck, his chin, and he tried to move his head away from the cool touch, but he couldn't. He instead looked down, down at the arm around him, and the blue and violet glove and sleve caused him to freeze.

The voice… familiar. Laughing. Cool gloved hands. Control. Marks on the back. A whip.

No, no, it couldn't be. He tried to duck in to his subconscious, a trick he used so many times, so many times to get away from the life he couldn't live, but realized he couldn't- he was already there. Was there no escape from this monster? He didn't like this, he didn't like the hand that cupped his cheek, and slowly turned him around so he was facing the other body, the other boy.

Staring down would be uncomfortable, so he didn't. He let his eyes run up the spandex-suited body in front of him, willing it to go away. He reached around neck level, seeing the cloak flying behind the other, even with no wind. He stopped, and kept his eyes there. He couldn't look up- he didn't want to see anymore. No, no. He wanted to go home, he wanted to leave.

The other would have nothing of that. The hand on his cheek pushed his face up roughly, so he was staring at hideous yellow and purple glasses- yet he could still see the eyes behind them. Eyes he didn't want to see, eyes he couldn't deal with. He wasn't ready, he wasn't prepared for this yet. He was shaking, in fright and shock, as the other pulled him close, pulled him so they were pressed against each other almost too closely. His eyes widened, and staring at the face around two inches for him, he could see the truth.

Hate. Annoyance. Interest. Amusement. Disgust. Wonderment. Insanity. Cruelty. And then…

Desire.

He let out a long, long scream.

"I see you're finally awake."

The voice was silky, smooth, sensual. In it were promises of so many untold promises, so many fascinating pleasures. It reached out and grabbed him, twisted itself around him, pulling him to the voice. He liked the voice, it reminded him of… who did it remind him of? Well, not important. He opened his mouth, and tried to speak, but it was too dry. He had a feeling he should be in pain, for some absurd reason, but he didn't feel anything besides… besides nothing? He shook his head, a bit, and slowly opened his eyes.

Someone was leaning over him.

Only a shadow he could make out, and at the moment, it didn't look threatening. He was lying on the floor, he thought- he wasn't sure if he was telling up from down correctly, but he doubted he was lying on the ceiling. He realized that he felt sticky, but couldn't see, or feel, any reason why. Well, it was no matter now. He shut his eyes again, and curled up in a ball. He was stiff- he must have been out of it for a while- but that was of no matter. Luckily, there was no pain.

The voice gave a slight chuckle, sounding amused. He felt arms slide under him, and he thought about struggling- but he didn't see any reason to, so he didn't. Slowly, he was pulled off the ground in to a warm chest, and he realized he was being carried. Something in him warned him that this was a trap- that he had to get out of here- but he was comfortable, and warm, so he ignored his inner voices and cuddled against the chest a bit more. He felt tired- so tired, but he managed to peak one eye open to see what he could… metal hallways, and a darkish colored clothed chest. Blue? Green? Purple? Black? He didn't know, and after a moment, he decided he didn't care. He got himself a big more adjusted, and drifted back in to a state of sleep.

Iori was confused.

He hated being confused.

He was the second-generation Chosen Child of Knowledge and Reliability. Both of those crests begged at him to find out what in the world had just happened. However, to his knowledge, there was no clue, no sign, no piece of information. The Kaizer had up and disappeared, as well as everything around him, and he only left blood lying on the ground. It was as if he had just up and vanished.

Logically, that was impossible. But logically, so were worlds in computers populated with talking Armadillo's, so he figured logic couldn't be counted on. He wished Koushiro-sempai or Jyou-sempai were there- both of them were intelligent and levelheaded, they might know what had just happened! But instead, it was just the second-generation children and three of the more impulsive first-generation. At least Mimi-san wasn't there. While she was pretty and nice, Iori personally didn't have much faith in her doing much to help that- or any- situation.

"I don't get it! It's not fucking possible!". Taichi was very close to whining, and also at the end of his temper. He always started swearing the more angry he got- a habit he had picked up from Yamato, to be sure.

"Where did he go? Where could he have gone??", Daisuke questioned, ignoring his idol, for once. Eager to prove his worth as a leader, he and Chibimon were already running around in almost comic circles, glancing every which way for any sign of anything related to the Kaizer. There wasn't even a blood trail to follow- as far as the eye could see, there wasn't even a sign that the Black Tower had once stood there.

Sora was the one that spoke up next, and amazingly, everyone listened to her. "Maybe we should go and try to find Gennai, hmm? He might know what happened here.".

Skeptical as always, Yamato leaned against a nearby telephone pole (that seemed to be there for no reason besides that it could), and raised an eyebrow. "How are we going to find him? Koushiro's the only one who he ever contacts- and we haven't really even heard from him since these kids were called.".

Taichi ignored his sometimes best friends' comment like he hadn't heard it, and nodded at Sora. "Right! Let's go and try to find him. He'll surely have answers.". Before Yamato could comment back, he was already quickly walking in a randomly chosen direction, leading everyone else as well. With a sigh, Yamato exchanged a glance with Tsumon, and both followed a few feet behind Hikari.

"Yeah! Let's go find Gennai! He'll be sure to help!", Daisuke cheered, running up next to his idol and jogging next to him with such enthusiasm that one might say he was skipping. Amused, Taichi smiled at him, until Daisuke opened his mouth again.

"Er… who is Gennai, anyway?".


Gennai still stayed in his underground lake house, ignoring the process of the Chosen Children. Feeling his nerves on the edge, he paced back and forth with the anxiety of one waiting for their funeral march. Every once and a while, he gave a glance in the screen's direction, trying to see in to the base location of the Kaizer. However, as usual, it was blocked from his sight, as if the Kaizer *knew* he was being watched.

"This wasn't supposed to happen."., he murmured, feeling a mix of anger and regret running through him. He was supposed to have been looking after Ichijouji- how could he have let it go this far?

He sighed. He knew the answer.

The Digigods had WANTED to see what would happen. That was the reason that Ken hadn't been stopped long long before. They wanted to see what would happen, what the Dark Spore would do. And now that they had, they left it up to Gennai to deal with the consequences. But this time, he wasn't sure if he could do it. Never before had an incident like this one occurred, and there was no possible way to fix it himself.

The only way for the two separated halves of Ken Ichijouji to become one again would be by his own will and way. Only by accepting himself for who he was could the bluenette change his separation, and accepting himself was the one thing the genius had the most amount of trouble with. The situation wasn't looking good, Gennai reflected- but he then figured he would have to put his faith in the Chosen Children. All of them, from Jyou to Iori, and including Ken, would have to work together to find a way to fix this.

He, personally, was thinking about going for a long vacation and denying his part of manipulating the Digital Elemental of Miracles. That seemed to be the smartest plan. First, he would need to let the Chosen Children contact him, though. The old man sighed once more, than sat down, and started to wait.

K-chan -- Owch. I really don't like this chapter. This will be re-written before the final version, I guarantee you that.

Duo-kun -- Thank god for that.

K-chan -- *smack* BAH!