Sorry for taking so long with this. There's more BWG in this chapter, so I know some of my readers will be satisfied. And thank you for your reviews, especially the ones that thought this story was finished. See, people like me really shouldn't start the long stories. We never finish them. But I'll try. Thank you guys again and I hope you enjoy this chapter.
The Real Meeting
Black Wargreymon was in a destructive mood. He was crouched beside the lake where he had found the Boy and was currently enjoying a mid-afternoon snack of transparent lake-dwelling creatures. The critters pleaded with the giant beast from inside the massive cavern that was his mouth. 'Please! Digital Water Gods let me live!' they cried as they flopped against the roof of Black Wargreymon's mouth. The creatures stuck between his teeth screamed a different tune. 'Kill me!' they would say and he would flick his leathery pink tongue between the crevices, then chew for a minute more before swallowing loudly. To allow the largest possible amount of critters in his mouth he dipped his open jaws into the flawlessly clear lake, then shut them around many liters of water. He used his tongue to filter water from critters and swallowed the liquid in one large gulp.
Sometimes his jaws closed on half a creature and there was a small, momentary explosion of red that stained the perfection of the water. The dead creatures sank to the bottom of the lake, and were then swallowed by crab-like Digimon called Corillomon, who loved the smell and taste of blood and preyed upon the flesh of the newly dead. Of course, they were not to leave their water prison to satiate their blood lust.
When Black Wargreymon finally stood to leave, a wispy sigh could be heard amongst the waves. He had decided to move onto something bigger, oblivious of the sighing but well aware that the absence of his presence would be much appreciated. He decided that he didn't like this lake because this lake held memories of the poorest decision he had ever made. Saving the Boy was not supposed to be his decision to make and he was already beginning to regret that he had bothered. The Boy was currently in the same state of unconsciousness that he had been in since Black Wargreymon had carried him to the cave in his arms. Strangely enough, with the Boy in his arms he had been able to find his damn cave with ease.
The Boy had kept Black Wargreymon up for the rest of the night, even though the Boy had not made a sound. Black Wargreymon was still trying to decide whether or not to snap the Boy's neck the rest of the way and toss him into the lake for the fish. In the end Black Wargreymon stuck with his original plan, contented with the fact that he had screwed with whatever was natural in the Digital World. Soon he would find another Destiny Stone to screw with and this terrible world he was forced to live in would become disoriented. His great battle with the creature behind the Destiny Stone would burn the maze of forests, topple all of the mountains and fill the land with the sea.
Black Wargreymon plodded away from the surface of the lake and pointed his gangly body in the direction of the cave. Just by chance he happened to glance back in the direction of the lake and he noticed something shiny hiding in the reeds. He waddled over to the source of his curiosity and knelt once again to pick up the object. It was small and black and once in his hands, it became lost. Black Wargreymon realized that the broken device must have belonged to the Boy. He knew what it was for as well. In his short time he had seen the children flash rainbow-colored trinkets at their Digimon to force them to evolve. But he couldn't ever remember noticed a black device. Black is not a color, he reminded himself, it's a shade. What could this Boy possibly have done to deserve the black fate? Maybe, he thought, the Boy and he had something in common after all.
Black Wargreymon whacked the device with his claw until one of the buttons activated. The screen showed flurries and nothing more. He supposed that it was just as broken as the Boy was. His partner would never Digivolve again. Speaking of partners, he wondered, whatever happened to this Boy's partner? They usually stick around their humans like snot. Suddenly, it dawned on him. The Boy's partner must have died; hence the black device.
Black Wargreymon was not stupid. He also knew that the device could be used to track other Digidestined. If he wanted to exercise control over the Boy's life, he would have to isolate him from other humans. Maybe later he could use the Boy for blackmail and force the other children to lend him a hand with finding the destiny stone. Yeah, that would be great. So, he would have to distract the children from the cave. Or, better yet, he thought as he looked into the lovely crystal lake, I'll make them think that the Boy is dead.
With that final thought, Black Wargreymon hurled the black digivice into water in front of him, watching with a satisfied smirk as the device floated and moved in time to the waves before being weighed by the water and sinking dramatically towards the waiting fish and water lilies.
~*~
Daisuke was at the Ichijouji's front door. He had been for at least twenty minutes. The young boy was having difficulty remembering how he was supposed to express the situation to Ken's protective parents. He remembered briefly how upset they had been when, one day (and only one day, he'd be damned if he made the same mistake twice) he had brought the last Ichijouji child home late. It was already ten minutes past dinner at Daisuke's place and he needed to board the subway in order to make it back to his family less than an hour late. His mother, though weary of his tardiness, would place his meal in the oven until he got home. She explained to her son that since he was needed to save the world she would keep dinner warm for the little hero. Daisuke grinned like an evil warlock, tempted to relieve himself of the laughter he contained upon hearing the irony in his mother's words.
Ken's parents were a lot less forgiving. His mother wept loudly and embraced her son so tightly that the bones in his lower spine popped and cackled. Ken's breath caught the apology for the moment his mother held him, then let go a flow of comforting words.
'Poor Ken,' Daisuke thought until Ken's mother's fury rained down on him with more awesome force than a tropical rainstorm. Daisuke blanched and stood like a statue would under torrential rain, overwhelmed by the washing of fury and guilt that soaked his innards. He was so floored by Mrs. Ichijouji's lecture that he didn't even notice that Ken, now flustered and stammering, ran into the apartment and retrieved his father.
"Dad, make her stop." Ken was now the picture of embarrassment. His father placed his arm around Mrs. Ichijouji and she finally stopped jabbering and she allowed herself to be led back into the house.
"I'm sorry." Ken apologized and bowed. When he straightened, Daisuke was smiling. Daisuke extended a hand and rubbed it in Ken's fine hair before skipping down the hallway and down the steps. He didn't look back, but he knew that Ken was smiling.
There was no Ken to save him now. He was turned with one foot pointed towards all that was right and good and one foot pointed towards the exit. He knew that one would eventually led to the other, but together they seemed to be two separate entities awaiting his lonely decision. Finally, he chose to leave because he knew that the restraints that were holding his chest tightly would crumble if he relayed the day's events to himself. He doubted he would receive sympathy from Ken's mother, who, once she realized the error of her ways, had a deadly grip on her sorrowful son. Maybe she would throw him off a cliff, he worried.
Yet as he turned, the fate that bound him so closely to his best friend acted so much out of line as to guide his knuckles to the door as he turned hurriedly to escape. The sound bounded down the lonely hallway, past the apartment door that contained an excellent martial artist and into the bland and chilly day. Daisuke winced and suppressed the urge to scream. There was nothing he could do; the decision had been made.
He heard running footsteps, felt wind as the door was sucked inwards, saw the disappointment on Mrs. Ichijouji's pale face, smelled her cheap perfume that was much like his own mother's and tasted the tears on his dry lips that he had no time to register. It was warm in the Ichijouji's living room, or perhaps it only seemed that way because he felt so cold inside. He felt nothing but chilled and morose because of his sudden loss. Why couldn't someone else have done this? Daisuke may be brave, but he is not strong, especially with matters of the heart. Through glassy eyes and an endless trembling that centered in his heart and thighs, he saw Mr. Ichijouji speak, yet heard nothing. It was like he had ended up the world over and had lost his hearing. He knew it was possible to visit the world over, but that's not where he was now. He was mulling in hell, deserving a punishment that was not his.
At last he opened his mouth, his words falling with great weights on the ears of Ken's helplessly despondent parents. Daisuke had to lie about the location of the cliff, naturally, but he spoke the truth of most of the situation. For the first time in his life, Daisuke wanted very much to be alone. He was unable to deal with these grievous emotions that had become engraved on his soul because they were far more consuming than previous emotions he had encountered. They could not be resolved with a kiss on the cheek and a cookie. They required what is said to be the fifth dimension, time. And time tended to be unrelenting and slow when it was needed to heal. During this healing process, Daisuke would be visited by swarms of memories that he and Ken shared, memories that had been tucked away would tumble from their eternal shelves in large masses to haunt Daisuke's dreams, his aching heart and his life. Everything Ken touched would become symbolic and would become something Daisuke would love to preserve to feed the memories and strengthen the sadness within. It was only natural that he would not want to lose something that he had already lost.
He surely couldn't fathom what Ken's parents were going through. They'd lost two sons already. The first loss was more necessary to the balance than the second. It was necessary for the light and dark, the Ying and the Yang, to follow through with Osamu's death because Ken was too enticing to be held up for too long. At first Ken had been in Osamu's great, seemingly wise and dignified shadow, but when he had become locked in a dark closet within that shadow, Ying and Yang carefully plotted the older Ichijouji boy's death. No one had ever doubted their ability to play chess with invalid lives. Osamu had become invalid as soon as Ken had taken a shuddering, sickly step into the world. Ying and Yang turned their fascination towards this boy and instantly found that he was the only project they had successfully managed as one being. They were able to mesh in shades of gray because of this boy; the boy who continually danced on the line between eternal light and eternal dark had, with a little insistence, became the line that kept order in the space and time between. The longer he lived, the more fascinating and useful he became, and Ying and Yang could easily keep balance in the lives of all pitiful invalids.
Ken's life lessons were not simple. He could not deny what the darkness had birthed him to be for much longer. The guilt even admitted the righteousness of most of Ken's actions, though its owner did not believe it, which was just as well in order for guilt to grow and thrive. Ken was a born winner, a fighter who only cowered under the pressure within him. Like it or not, Ken would lead again and there would be more bloodshed. It was necessary to maintain the balance. Then there was the matter of Black Wargreymon who was dangerously tottering towards suicidal tendencies. Well, he would once he found out that his lifelong mission was something unattainable. This was a problem since he had not fulfilled his set purpose, and it had to be carefully planned so that he would live as long as he was supposed to, with or without crushing disappointment.
Daisuke was as invalid as most, destined to mill about on Earth, then in the heavens, then Earth again until time folded in on itself. If Daisuke knew this was all that he was meant to be, a smaller piece of another piece of a gigantic, intricate puzzle played and pieced together by Fate, Destiny, and of course, Ying and Yang, he would lose his mind and become even more useless; he would be floating instead of milling and being a part of other people, people who must experience joy and sorrow much like him. Daisuke never thought of such things, which was just as well. The mold used for people like Daisuke, those insistently happy and cheerful people, was used only sparingly, and it would be a shame to lose someone like Daisuke in a simple lesson.
Ken's mold was a little different. Ken was a person was always thought it was raining. Which is not as bad as it sounds; in fact it's a lot more tolerable than some molds. If anyone can handle it, Ying and Yang thought, it would be Ken. Ying and Yang were experts at purpose and meaning, and nothing would be more purposeful and meaningful than introducing their meaningful Ken-chan to their purposeless Black Wargreymon. It was a thought close to perfection that the ill fated should meet and find comfort in each other. There would be sacrifices, as there were with everything, but the plan was set forth with much eager anticipation.
Ken's father was calling the police, trying to remain calm. His wife was staring with disbelief at the wailing little boy on the sofa. She wouldn't trust him and she never had. 'I was right about him,' she thought, 'he can't be trusted.' Her disbelief surrounded around the fact that although the boy and his friends had climbed down the cliff to look for their friend, they could not find the body. She also couldn't believe that responsible teenagers failed to call the police right after the accident occurred. As much as she appreciated that they sent one of their cronies to her home to tell her false truths, if this had really happened, they would have went straight to the police.
The pineapple child wiped more snot onto his sleeve and Mrs. Ichijouji did not think to get him a tissue.
"You aren't telling me the truth," she spat suddenly, and turned her gaze from the white washed wall and her cooking poster to the little boy with the red eyes and the smile lines engraved near his mouth.
"I think you need to lie down - " Mr. Ichijouji began, but his wife silenced him with her eyes. When Osamu had died, she had done the same thing, except her anger was directed toward the medical professionals. He just had to accept that his wife dealt with her pain in that particular manner, just as he handled his by bottling it up inside and trying to forget about it.
"No, no, no. He's lying. Look at him!" she directed her attention back to Ken's quivering little friend. "Ken was kidnapped again, wasn't he? Tell me!"
"What are you talking about?" Daisuke sniffled. "Ken was never kidnapped." Oops. He had a feeling that he would have to stick around a lot longer than he intended. "I mean," he added, "not today." His sleeve was beginning to look rather filthy.
Mrs. Ichijouji pointed in his direction as if to say, "See!" then did so anyway. "He's a liar. Where is my son?"
"He fell off the CLIFF!" Daisuke screamed and continued to do so when Mrs. Ichijouji grabbed his collar and shook him firmly. "Tell me!" she yelled at the little delinquent as her frantic husband grabbed her porcelain hands and removed them from the Motomiya's son.
"Honey, stop it! We all need to calm down and wait for the police. Please. Now, Daisuke, what did you mean that Ken was never kidnapped?" The boy looked at his hands and Mr. Ichijouji noticed how cold the boy looked wearing those summer shorts.
"I don't know if I should tell. The others might get mad at me."
"I want to know exactly what has happened to my son," Mr. Ichijouji insisted.
Daisuke sighed. "Then I'm gonna have to word this so that it makes sense to you guys. Uhm…Ken was never kidnapped, well he sort of was, but that stuff wouldn't make sense. After Ken's brother… passed away… there were some complications. Some powerful…people…wanted control over Ken's emotions. Ken wanted so much to be like his brother that he eventually became like him. He practically sold his soul for that chance. But there were problems with the deal because these people took control of him and forced him to think and act differently than his crest commanded. I mean, differently than his regular personality. He began thinking of everyone as "insects" and eventually got so fed up with this world and he left. He fled to this special place that me and my friends go to a lot. To be fair, he kinda came there first. But he did things, evil things, to the animals there. We tried to save them but Ken was always smarter and better and faster. When he left he stayed there full time and caused a great big mess. It took one climatic betrayal to get him to leave. Eventually he came back, which is good because we were all worried. He looked so tired. We went through a lot together and that's how we became friends."
"If…if you knew that he was in this place, why didn't you get him out sooner? He was there for months."
"I know. It's not that simple. In order to get someone to leave you either have to be stronger than them or they have to be willing to go. It took months for both sides to understand what was going on. Before this, we didn't really register that Ken existed. I just thought he was a smart kid and I wanted to play soccer with him because I heard he was great. That's all."
"Why didn't you kids come to an adult?"
"Because this is *not* an adult problem."
"And who were these people you were talking about?"
"Bad people. People who got what they wanted through Ken. They intended for him to suffer. They knew… they knew what Ken would do after he realized what he'd done to those animals."
"What did Ken do?"
"He tried to… but it didn't work out. Thankfully. I slapped him and he didn't do it. I felt bad, but I would have felt worse if I hadn't kept him grounded… I wanna go home now."
"All right."
~*~
Black Wargreymon couldn't understand why he was frightened. The Boy's breath hiccuped through his broken chest and Black Wargreymon helplessly watched him tremble with cold. He'd tried to warm the Boy as best he could. He had taken the Boy's clothes from him because they were wet and torn and had made his way out into the bushes to find a dead Gazimon. He stripped the corpse of its fine fur using only his nails and a sharp rock. From the fur he had fashioned a decent-looking blanket that he was particularily proud of, since he did not consider himself to be domesticated. The blanket had fit well over the thin, chilled form of the Boy, but did not do much to remove the blue from his lips.
Earlier in the day Black Wargreymon had taken the children from a mother Gorillomon and forced her to splint the Boy's broken bones. It had taken her until mid noon to finish the job. It was her finest work, and Black Wargreymon agreed that it would do. The Gorillomon did not mention that the Boy may never walk again. She was not usually selfish, but she wanted her children back. Black Wargreymon dismissed her and decided that if the Boy was going to live a while longer, he should find someone to tend to the Boy full time.
Black Wargreymon had spent a lot of time listening to the Boy take his little boy breaths, and perhaps felt slightly paranoid because he knew the possibilities well and could sense that every breath taken was one less breath to be taken later on. He felt mesmerized and could even be compared to an old man watching the second hand tick away on a Sears wrist watch. He did not know this, but he had not thought of the Destiny Stones at all this day and did not pursue them. If he had known, he would have mocked himself for being foolish, and yet he would have stayed.
Taking care of the Boy was like being blind for the first time - he couldn't tell where he was going or how he was going to get there. He knew nothing about caring and currently felt no pain from which he could sympathize. He realized, as he had on many occasions before, that he had been brought into this world with little knowledge of what was behind it and this had left him feeling disjointed. Black Wargreymon didn't belong here if there were no battles to call his own. If he lost he would accept his loss and die appropriately from his injuries. If he won, his fate would be no different. Black Wargreymon knew how to serve his purpose. As much as he ignored that awful witch that brought him into the world, he could not deny his creator's intentions.
The Boy made a noise and Black Wargreymon found himself to be foolishly startled. He hadn't expected the Boy to stir quite so early, therefore he must have been doing something right. Carefully, with the clumsiness of a child who is making cookies for the first time by themselves, he positioned the Boy so that his arms were balancing the lanky little body. Then he pulled upwards so that he could feel the Boy's feverish cheek on his chest. He felt the shaky breaths the Boy took, felt them right through his armor, and suddenly his heart jumped. Each laborious breath kept the Boy alive and allowed Black Wargreymon to feel at peace.
Black Wargreymon had hope that the Boy would awaken in his arms. The feelings evoked were strange and new to him and he would discuss them with the Boy, whether he wanted to listen or not. Admittedly, Black Wargreymon hadn't decided what he would use the Boy for, besides blackmail of course. Maybe, perhaps, not even that. Maybe he would decide to keep the Boy hidden and all to himself, for as far as the Digidestined were concerned, the Boy had fallen off a cliff and had drowned in the lake below.
He had not factored in the Boy's needs. The Boy might try to get away if he got better. He might try to run away *before* he got better, and this worried Black Wargreymon a great deal because he had gone to such lengths to find the right Digimon, the one who would be able to fix the child's wounds. Since Black Wargreymon couldn't fathom the Boy's wounds, he did not realize that the chances of the Boy standing, or even crawling, out of the cave would be slim to none. He also did not realize that he had picked up a smart Boy, but how would he have known that? Before the incident, he had not thought much of the little brats that could travel in and out of the Digital World and that could transform the weakest Digimon to a great fighter with a mere toy. Black Wargreymon did not experience jealously towards these strange beings, but instead was rather annoyed and angry with their tireless efforts to hide the Destiny Stones from him.
He sighed; the Boy must have had a nightmare and was not moving now. But as Black Wargreymon was about to place the Boy back down on the bed he had stolen, the Boy's eyes flickered and opened. Their eyes met and Black Wargreymon was unconsciously aware that his breaths lifted and flattened the long strands of the Boy's hair. For a moment there was nothing and Black Wargreymon thought the Boy was afraid. Then, simultaneously, both Boy and beast smiled at each other and the great wonder began.
The Real Meeting
Black Wargreymon was in a destructive mood. He was crouched beside the lake where he had found the Boy and was currently enjoying a mid-afternoon snack of transparent lake-dwelling creatures. The critters pleaded with the giant beast from inside the massive cavern that was his mouth. 'Please! Digital Water Gods let me live!' they cried as they flopped against the roof of Black Wargreymon's mouth. The creatures stuck between his teeth screamed a different tune. 'Kill me!' they would say and he would flick his leathery pink tongue between the crevices, then chew for a minute more before swallowing loudly. To allow the largest possible amount of critters in his mouth he dipped his open jaws into the flawlessly clear lake, then shut them around many liters of water. He used his tongue to filter water from critters and swallowed the liquid in one large gulp.
Sometimes his jaws closed on half a creature and there was a small, momentary explosion of red that stained the perfection of the water. The dead creatures sank to the bottom of the lake, and were then swallowed by crab-like Digimon called Corillomon, who loved the smell and taste of blood and preyed upon the flesh of the newly dead. Of course, they were not to leave their water prison to satiate their blood lust.
When Black Wargreymon finally stood to leave, a wispy sigh could be heard amongst the waves. He had decided to move onto something bigger, oblivious of the sighing but well aware that the absence of his presence would be much appreciated. He decided that he didn't like this lake because this lake held memories of the poorest decision he had ever made. Saving the Boy was not supposed to be his decision to make and he was already beginning to regret that he had bothered. The Boy was currently in the same state of unconsciousness that he had been in since Black Wargreymon had carried him to the cave in his arms. Strangely enough, with the Boy in his arms he had been able to find his damn cave with ease.
The Boy had kept Black Wargreymon up for the rest of the night, even though the Boy had not made a sound. Black Wargreymon was still trying to decide whether or not to snap the Boy's neck the rest of the way and toss him into the lake for the fish. In the end Black Wargreymon stuck with his original plan, contented with the fact that he had screwed with whatever was natural in the Digital World. Soon he would find another Destiny Stone to screw with and this terrible world he was forced to live in would become disoriented. His great battle with the creature behind the Destiny Stone would burn the maze of forests, topple all of the mountains and fill the land with the sea.
Black Wargreymon plodded away from the surface of the lake and pointed his gangly body in the direction of the cave. Just by chance he happened to glance back in the direction of the lake and he noticed something shiny hiding in the reeds. He waddled over to the source of his curiosity and knelt once again to pick up the object. It was small and black and once in his hands, it became lost. Black Wargreymon realized that the broken device must have belonged to the Boy. He knew what it was for as well. In his short time he had seen the children flash rainbow-colored trinkets at their Digimon to force them to evolve. But he couldn't ever remember noticed a black device. Black is not a color, he reminded himself, it's a shade. What could this Boy possibly have done to deserve the black fate? Maybe, he thought, the Boy and he had something in common after all.
Black Wargreymon whacked the device with his claw until one of the buttons activated. The screen showed flurries and nothing more. He supposed that it was just as broken as the Boy was. His partner would never Digivolve again. Speaking of partners, he wondered, whatever happened to this Boy's partner? They usually stick around their humans like snot. Suddenly, it dawned on him. The Boy's partner must have died; hence the black device.
Black Wargreymon was not stupid. He also knew that the device could be used to track other Digidestined. If he wanted to exercise control over the Boy's life, he would have to isolate him from other humans. Maybe later he could use the Boy for blackmail and force the other children to lend him a hand with finding the destiny stone. Yeah, that would be great. So, he would have to distract the children from the cave. Or, better yet, he thought as he looked into the lovely crystal lake, I'll make them think that the Boy is dead.
With that final thought, Black Wargreymon hurled the black digivice into water in front of him, watching with a satisfied smirk as the device floated and moved in time to the waves before being weighed by the water and sinking dramatically towards the waiting fish and water lilies.
~*~
Daisuke was at the Ichijouji's front door. He had been for at least twenty minutes. The young boy was having difficulty remembering how he was supposed to express the situation to Ken's protective parents. He remembered briefly how upset they had been when, one day (and only one day, he'd be damned if he made the same mistake twice) he had brought the last Ichijouji child home late. It was already ten minutes past dinner at Daisuke's place and he needed to board the subway in order to make it back to his family less than an hour late. His mother, though weary of his tardiness, would place his meal in the oven until he got home. She explained to her son that since he was needed to save the world she would keep dinner warm for the little hero. Daisuke grinned like an evil warlock, tempted to relieve himself of the laughter he contained upon hearing the irony in his mother's words.
Ken's parents were a lot less forgiving. His mother wept loudly and embraced her son so tightly that the bones in his lower spine popped and cackled. Ken's breath caught the apology for the moment his mother held him, then let go a flow of comforting words.
'Poor Ken,' Daisuke thought until Ken's mother's fury rained down on him with more awesome force than a tropical rainstorm. Daisuke blanched and stood like a statue would under torrential rain, overwhelmed by the washing of fury and guilt that soaked his innards. He was so floored by Mrs. Ichijouji's lecture that he didn't even notice that Ken, now flustered and stammering, ran into the apartment and retrieved his father.
"Dad, make her stop." Ken was now the picture of embarrassment. His father placed his arm around Mrs. Ichijouji and she finally stopped jabbering and she allowed herself to be led back into the house.
"I'm sorry." Ken apologized and bowed. When he straightened, Daisuke was smiling. Daisuke extended a hand and rubbed it in Ken's fine hair before skipping down the hallway and down the steps. He didn't look back, but he knew that Ken was smiling.
There was no Ken to save him now. He was turned with one foot pointed towards all that was right and good and one foot pointed towards the exit. He knew that one would eventually led to the other, but together they seemed to be two separate entities awaiting his lonely decision. Finally, he chose to leave because he knew that the restraints that were holding his chest tightly would crumble if he relayed the day's events to himself. He doubted he would receive sympathy from Ken's mother, who, once she realized the error of her ways, had a deadly grip on her sorrowful son. Maybe she would throw him off a cliff, he worried.
Yet as he turned, the fate that bound him so closely to his best friend acted so much out of line as to guide his knuckles to the door as he turned hurriedly to escape. The sound bounded down the lonely hallway, past the apartment door that contained an excellent martial artist and into the bland and chilly day. Daisuke winced and suppressed the urge to scream. There was nothing he could do; the decision had been made.
He heard running footsteps, felt wind as the door was sucked inwards, saw the disappointment on Mrs. Ichijouji's pale face, smelled her cheap perfume that was much like his own mother's and tasted the tears on his dry lips that he had no time to register. It was warm in the Ichijouji's living room, or perhaps it only seemed that way because he felt so cold inside. He felt nothing but chilled and morose because of his sudden loss. Why couldn't someone else have done this? Daisuke may be brave, but he is not strong, especially with matters of the heart. Through glassy eyes and an endless trembling that centered in his heart and thighs, he saw Mr. Ichijouji speak, yet heard nothing. It was like he had ended up the world over and had lost his hearing. He knew it was possible to visit the world over, but that's not where he was now. He was mulling in hell, deserving a punishment that was not his.
At last he opened his mouth, his words falling with great weights on the ears of Ken's helplessly despondent parents. Daisuke had to lie about the location of the cliff, naturally, but he spoke the truth of most of the situation. For the first time in his life, Daisuke wanted very much to be alone. He was unable to deal with these grievous emotions that had become engraved on his soul because they were far more consuming than previous emotions he had encountered. They could not be resolved with a kiss on the cheek and a cookie. They required what is said to be the fifth dimension, time. And time tended to be unrelenting and slow when it was needed to heal. During this healing process, Daisuke would be visited by swarms of memories that he and Ken shared, memories that had been tucked away would tumble from their eternal shelves in large masses to haunt Daisuke's dreams, his aching heart and his life. Everything Ken touched would become symbolic and would become something Daisuke would love to preserve to feed the memories and strengthen the sadness within. It was only natural that he would not want to lose something that he had already lost.
He surely couldn't fathom what Ken's parents were going through. They'd lost two sons already. The first loss was more necessary to the balance than the second. It was necessary for the light and dark, the Ying and the Yang, to follow through with Osamu's death because Ken was too enticing to be held up for too long. At first Ken had been in Osamu's great, seemingly wise and dignified shadow, but when he had become locked in a dark closet within that shadow, Ying and Yang carefully plotted the older Ichijouji boy's death. No one had ever doubted their ability to play chess with invalid lives. Osamu had become invalid as soon as Ken had taken a shuddering, sickly step into the world. Ying and Yang turned their fascination towards this boy and instantly found that he was the only project they had successfully managed as one being. They were able to mesh in shades of gray because of this boy; the boy who continually danced on the line between eternal light and eternal dark had, with a little insistence, became the line that kept order in the space and time between. The longer he lived, the more fascinating and useful he became, and Ying and Yang could easily keep balance in the lives of all pitiful invalids.
Ken's life lessons were not simple. He could not deny what the darkness had birthed him to be for much longer. The guilt even admitted the righteousness of most of Ken's actions, though its owner did not believe it, which was just as well in order for guilt to grow and thrive. Ken was a born winner, a fighter who only cowered under the pressure within him. Like it or not, Ken would lead again and there would be more bloodshed. It was necessary to maintain the balance. Then there was the matter of Black Wargreymon who was dangerously tottering towards suicidal tendencies. Well, he would once he found out that his lifelong mission was something unattainable. This was a problem since he had not fulfilled his set purpose, and it had to be carefully planned so that he would live as long as he was supposed to, with or without crushing disappointment.
Daisuke was as invalid as most, destined to mill about on Earth, then in the heavens, then Earth again until time folded in on itself. If Daisuke knew this was all that he was meant to be, a smaller piece of another piece of a gigantic, intricate puzzle played and pieced together by Fate, Destiny, and of course, Ying and Yang, he would lose his mind and become even more useless; he would be floating instead of milling and being a part of other people, people who must experience joy and sorrow much like him. Daisuke never thought of such things, which was just as well. The mold used for people like Daisuke, those insistently happy and cheerful people, was used only sparingly, and it would be a shame to lose someone like Daisuke in a simple lesson.
Ken's mold was a little different. Ken was a person was always thought it was raining. Which is not as bad as it sounds; in fact it's a lot more tolerable than some molds. If anyone can handle it, Ying and Yang thought, it would be Ken. Ying and Yang were experts at purpose and meaning, and nothing would be more purposeful and meaningful than introducing their meaningful Ken-chan to their purposeless Black Wargreymon. It was a thought close to perfection that the ill fated should meet and find comfort in each other. There would be sacrifices, as there were with everything, but the plan was set forth with much eager anticipation.
Ken's father was calling the police, trying to remain calm. His wife was staring with disbelief at the wailing little boy on the sofa. She wouldn't trust him and she never had. 'I was right about him,' she thought, 'he can't be trusted.' Her disbelief surrounded around the fact that although the boy and his friends had climbed down the cliff to look for their friend, they could not find the body. She also couldn't believe that responsible teenagers failed to call the police right after the accident occurred. As much as she appreciated that they sent one of their cronies to her home to tell her false truths, if this had really happened, they would have went straight to the police.
The pineapple child wiped more snot onto his sleeve and Mrs. Ichijouji did not think to get him a tissue.
"You aren't telling me the truth," she spat suddenly, and turned her gaze from the white washed wall and her cooking poster to the little boy with the red eyes and the smile lines engraved near his mouth.
"I think you need to lie down - " Mr. Ichijouji began, but his wife silenced him with her eyes. When Osamu had died, she had done the same thing, except her anger was directed toward the medical professionals. He just had to accept that his wife dealt with her pain in that particular manner, just as he handled his by bottling it up inside and trying to forget about it.
"No, no, no. He's lying. Look at him!" she directed her attention back to Ken's quivering little friend. "Ken was kidnapped again, wasn't he? Tell me!"
"What are you talking about?" Daisuke sniffled. "Ken was never kidnapped." Oops. He had a feeling that he would have to stick around a lot longer than he intended. "I mean," he added, "not today." His sleeve was beginning to look rather filthy.
Mrs. Ichijouji pointed in his direction as if to say, "See!" then did so anyway. "He's a liar. Where is my son?"
"He fell off the CLIFF!" Daisuke screamed and continued to do so when Mrs. Ichijouji grabbed his collar and shook him firmly. "Tell me!" she yelled at the little delinquent as her frantic husband grabbed her porcelain hands and removed them from the Motomiya's son.
"Honey, stop it! We all need to calm down and wait for the police. Please. Now, Daisuke, what did you mean that Ken was never kidnapped?" The boy looked at his hands and Mr. Ichijouji noticed how cold the boy looked wearing those summer shorts.
"I don't know if I should tell. The others might get mad at me."
"I want to know exactly what has happened to my son," Mr. Ichijouji insisted.
Daisuke sighed. "Then I'm gonna have to word this so that it makes sense to you guys. Uhm…Ken was never kidnapped, well he sort of was, but that stuff wouldn't make sense. After Ken's brother… passed away… there were some complications. Some powerful…people…wanted control over Ken's emotions. Ken wanted so much to be like his brother that he eventually became like him. He practically sold his soul for that chance. But there were problems with the deal because these people took control of him and forced him to think and act differently than his crest commanded. I mean, differently than his regular personality. He began thinking of everyone as "insects" and eventually got so fed up with this world and he left. He fled to this special place that me and my friends go to a lot. To be fair, he kinda came there first. But he did things, evil things, to the animals there. We tried to save them but Ken was always smarter and better and faster. When he left he stayed there full time and caused a great big mess. It took one climatic betrayal to get him to leave. Eventually he came back, which is good because we were all worried. He looked so tired. We went through a lot together and that's how we became friends."
"If…if you knew that he was in this place, why didn't you get him out sooner? He was there for months."
"I know. It's not that simple. In order to get someone to leave you either have to be stronger than them or they have to be willing to go. It took months for both sides to understand what was going on. Before this, we didn't really register that Ken existed. I just thought he was a smart kid and I wanted to play soccer with him because I heard he was great. That's all."
"Why didn't you kids come to an adult?"
"Because this is *not* an adult problem."
"And who were these people you were talking about?"
"Bad people. People who got what they wanted through Ken. They intended for him to suffer. They knew… they knew what Ken would do after he realized what he'd done to those animals."
"What did Ken do?"
"He tried to… but it didn't work out. Thankfully. I slapped him and he didn't do it. I felt bad, but I would have felt worse if I hadn't kept him grounded… I wanna go home now."
"All right."
~*~
Black Wargreymon couldn't understand why he was frightened. The Boy's breath hiccuped through his broken chest and Black Wargreymon helplessly watched him tremble with cold. He'd tried to warm the Boy as best he could. He had taken the Boy's clothes from him because they were wet and torn and had made his way out into the bushes to find a dead Gazimon. He stripped the corpse of its fine fur using only his nails and a sharp rock. From the fur he had fashioned a decent-looking blanket that he was particularily proud of, since he did not consider himself to be domesticated. The blanket had fit well over the thin, chilled form of the Boy, but did not do much to remove the blue from his lips.
Earlier in the day Black Wargreymon had taken the children from a mother Gorillomon and forced her to splint the Boy's broken bones. It had taken her until mid noon to finish the job. It was her finest work, and Black Wargreymon agreed that it would do. The Gorillomon did not mention that the Boy may never walk again. She was not usually selfish, but she wanted her children back. Black Wargreymon dismissed her and decided that if the Boy was going to live a while longer, he should find someone to tend to the Boy full time.
Black Wargreymon had spent a lot of time listening to the Boy take his little boy breaths, and perhaps felt slightly paranoid because he knew the possibilities well and could sense that every breath taken was one less breath to be taken later on. He felt mesmerized and could even be compared to an old man watching the second hand tick away on a Sears wrist watch. He did not know this, but he had not thought of the Destiny Stones at all this day and did not pursue them. If he had known, he would have mocked himself for being foolish, and yet he would have stayed.
Taking care of the Boy was like being blind for the first time - he couldn't tell where he was going or how he was going to get there. He knew nothing about caring and currently felt no pain from which he could sympathize. He realized, as he had on many occasions before, that he had been brought into this world with little knowledge of what was behind it and this had left him feeling disjointed. Black Wargreymon didn't belong here if there were no battles to call his own. If he lost he would accept his loss and die appropriately from his injuries. If he won, his fate would be no different. Black Wargreymon knew how to serve his purpose. As much as he ignored that awful witch that brought him into the world, he could not deny his creator's intentions.
The Boy made a noise and Black Wargreymon found himself to be foolishly startled. He hadn't expected the Boy to stir quite so early, therefore he must have been doing something right. Carefully, with the clumsiness of a child who is making cookies for the first time by themselves, he positioned the Boy so that his arms were balancing the lanky little body. Then he pulled upwards so that he could feel the Boy's feverish cheek on his chest. He felt the shaky breaths the Boy took, felt them right through his armor, and suddenly his heart jumped. Each laborious breath kept the Boy alive and allowed Black Wargreymon to feel at peace.
Black Wargreymon had hope that the Boy would awaken in his arms. The feelings evoked were strange and new to him and he would discuss them with the Boy, whether he wanted to listen or not. Admittedly, Black Wargreymon hadn't decided what he would use the Boy for, besides blackmail of course. Maybe, perhaps, not even that. Maybe he would decide to keep the Boy hidden and all to himself, for as far as the Digidestined were concerned, the Boy had fallen off a cliff and had drowned in the lake below.
He had not factored in the Boy's needs. The Boy might try to get away if he got better. He might try to run away *before* he got better, and this worried Black Wargreymon a great deal because he had gone to such lengths to find the right Digimon, the one who would be able to fix the child's wounds. Since Black Wargreymon couldn't fathom the Boy's wounds, he did not realize that the chances of the Boy standing, or even crawling, out of the cave would be slim to none. He also did not realize that he had picked up a smart Boy, but how would he have known that? Before the incident, he had not thought much of the little brats that could travel in and out of the Digital World and that could transform the weakest Digimon to a great fighter with a mere toy. Black Wargreymon did not experience jealously towards these strange beings, but instead was rather annoyed and angry with their tireless efforts to hide the Destiny Stones from him.
He sighed; the Boy must have had a nightmare and was not moving now. But as Black Wargreymon was about to place the Boy back down on the bed he had stolen, the Boy's eyes flickered and opened. Their eyes met and Black Wargreymon was unconsciously aware that his breaths lifted and flattened the long strands of the Boy's hair. For a moment there was nothing and Black Wargreymon thought the Boy was afraid. Then, simultaneously, both Boy and beast smiled at each other and the great wonder began.