A/N - (I won't die, will I?)  You might. Might not. (*sweatdrop*)  I'm not giving away the ending!  (Aw…  Please?)  Oh, and a major plot element is being revealed here.  ^_~  (I feel sorry for fanfic me…)

Chapter Seventeen: Cyborg

My wind will blow tomorrow, so
I want to leave all the doors in the world open
My wind will blow tomorrow, so
I'm gonna get rid of
Your cowardliness
A gorgeous life!

~Ashita wa Atashi no Kaze ga Fuku

                I'm alone.  I don't need anyone, not anymore.  I'll be fine by myself.  Everyone has already showed they hate me.  All I can rely on is myself.  Takato sat still, on the floor, where there still was a pool of blood in which he sat, too tired to move.  His red eyes, once so happy and full of life, were dull and looked lifeless.  But he was alive.  His body wouldn't--and couldn't--die. 

                The knife was lying on the ground where he dropped it, coated in blood.  I want a friend…  But it's only a want, and something I can do without.  And anyways, no one wants to be a friend with a freak.  He thought briefly of cleaning up, but let it go.  He was too weary to hide this evidence. 

                I hate my body.  It's not human.  Maybe once it was, but now it will never be.  Why is life so cruel to me?  What did I ever do to deserve such horror?  And all these spirits…  And being hated by all…  I did nothing.  But it must be my fault that everything happened, and I need to pay the price for my crimes. 

                He closed his eyes.  He took a deep breath.  And he struggled to his feet.  Immediately, pain shot through him, but he gritted his teeth and continued.  He walked and made bloody footprints.  After losing so much blood, and with so much pain…  I can still walk…  He walked slowly to the full length mirror.  And stared at himself once more. 

                "I'm not human."  He stared at his body.  His skin was thin, and he could see beneath it.  He held his hand up, and sadly looked at it.  Beneath the skin, he became a machine.             He recalled the day he had been attacked by that Digimon…  And awakened in the Digital World as this freak… 

                The Digimon had saved him.  He owed them this, although he hated this existence.  They had risked everything to get him out of the Digital World when it was destroyed.  And they had lost.  He was the last remaining part of the Digital World. 

                They made him as a machine.  Perfect, with no flaws, no way of dying.  A body specially designed for fighting.  An energy source that never died.  Indestructible.  It was a gift and curse.  If anyone knew about my pitiful body, they would denounce me as a freak.  And no one would ever respect me.  They would treat me as a thing, not a being.  I cannot tell anyone. 

                He put his hand down, and stared at his reflection, which quietly revealed his one greatest secret.  He did not notice Yami and Akari, watching sadly, feeling their mission was failed.  He did not feel Aishuu, stirring in his mind, feeling all of his pain, and wishing he could so something.