Schism ~ an adventure in shounen ai with the occasional flock of strangeness by ShiniJekka
Fanfic Writer's Everlasting Tale of Woe – I don't own these people, but I take the liberty of making them jump through hoops at my leisure.
Author's Ramble – I wasn't happy with the first draft of this, and finally realized which section was bugging me. Kaiser's section, at the end of this chapter, has been redone completely. I feel better now. I turn my efforts, now, to my Japanese final and also to "When to Bicker". I have guilt about that one. Major guilt.
Chapter 3 – Drawn outside the lines of reason
Once, I was a power hungry, crazed, fanatical despot who believed he was living in a game world.
Then I got better.
I have decided that, one day if I should happen to be able to put this behind me and swallow the guilt, I might write a novel, and that would be an excellent tag line.
Amazing, the inane things one thinks of while travelling between worlds.
It is only for a second, the merest of moments, a rush of color and euphoria, the sensation of falling. I can feel Wormmon travelling with me, through the impromptu portal opened in my computer by the power of my digivice, the sensation of here-to-there during which my brain selects thoughts at random, dips into them like a bee collecting nutrients.
And we have arrived.
"Ken! Oiii, Ken! Over here!"
The enthusiastic welcome I recognize as Miyako, waving erratically from the edge of a lush forest. Her lavender hair becomes briefly ensnared in her glasses, and all effort is rerouted to wrestling it out of her face. By the time I walk over (Wormmon giggling in my grasp) she's straightened herself out.
"A bit windy today," I note congenially.
She grins widely, with a slight blush, and spins on the ball of a foot to skip toward the picnic. Following, my eyes drift from the bounce of her long hair to the highly amused gaze of my digimon.
"What?" I whisper.
"Miyako-chan is a nice girl, isn't she?" he notes.
"Mmn," I agree wordlessly, because it's true.
She's a very nice girl. But she isn't my Daisuke.
Within moments we reach the site, lovely and shaded, a thick plaid blanket laid over lush green grass. The Digidestined and their destined digimon assort themselves around plates of food, chatting and laughing. Takeru is tossing popcorn into the air, laughing as Patamon tries to nab it from his perch atop the boy's head. Hikari is watching and giggling behind a gloved hand, the other resting on Tailmon's head gently. Iori solemnly hands Armadillomon a toro roll, all formality lost as the digimon wolfs it down whole and belches. Hawkmon, of course, admonishes him, and then all six look up and smile as Miyako introduces my presence with flourish.
"Lookie lookie! Ken and Wormmon came!"
They're happy to see me.
Before a swell of emotion can embarrass me, that train of thought is hijacked by Daisuke leaping out of a tree into my path, already speaking a mile a minute about how he was waiting and wasn't sure if I was coming or not. Behind him, Veemon bounces off of the same low bough, giggling and hopping in his partner's footsteps.
"Wormmon! Ken! You're here, you're here!" he chirps, nearly colliding into Daisuke's legs as they both skid to a halt in front of me.
"Hai, hai," I agree, stooping to set Wormmon on the grass. He and Veemon greet each other and head for the blanket, the blue vaccine-type describing to my virus-type all of the delectable vittles awaiting him.
"How was school?" Daisuke asks softly, mahogany gaze searching over my visage. I build up a rather pitifully reassuring smile for him, a slight shrug of my thin shoulders, and start toward the blanket gathering. I would prefer to speak of this later, at a time when it wouldn't taint the sheer wonder of a moment in the sun with friends.
Bless him, he understands.
Nearly half an hour passes before we, all of us, glance at each other with guilty little grins and admit to ourselves that we've eaten too much. Plates are wiped and tucked away, to be brought back to our world later. Digidestined sprawl across the blanket in various states of comfort, taking in the warmth, the breeze, and the comfort of our closeness.
To think that once, I believed this a waste of time, of effort. I believed in its worthlessness, its weakness. As a genius, I was quite the fool.
Here and now, with Wormmon curled at my side, Daisuke bare inches away, Veemon softly snoring, Hikari and Takeru giggling together and Miyako humming contentedly, Iori's stoic silent composure… Here and now, I could exist forever.
Never regretting.
And, perhaps because I feel I don't deserve such a nirvana, I force myself to sit up, shaking the curtain of hair from my vision, seeking to shatter the still of the moment before I slip into dangerous complacency. I haven't atoned for my transgressions, yet. I can't allow myself this peace.
Over the drowsy murmurs of a few conversations, I listen to the sound of my own breathing, seeking a center.
Hawkmon catches my gaze and winks, as though encouraging me somehow.
This is all very surreal to me.
The Digital World, at times, seems as vibrant and sharp as a painting, technicolor that sears into my eyes and heart and mind, too vivid to possibly be real. It seems infinitely more colorful than the real world, which I think may have been why it appealed to me so much in my younger years. The real world, for me, had gone flat and grey at a young age.
Of course, that all warped during my … misguided years. Maybe the reason this visual is so poignant to me now is that, having lived behind violet shades for months, my eyes have been trained to appreciate contrast.
Blessedly, before I get into another of my philosophical ruts, Veemon leaps to his feet as though he'd found his patch of the blanket to be ablaze. His huge, shining eyes have a peculiar glint to them as he exchanges a long look with Wormmon.
Daisuke makes a curious half-asleep noise at all the commotion so close to his yet. I very nearly melt at his disgruntled, barely aware expression.
Dignity is saved by the bellow.
"Daaaaisuke, come look, come look! Ken, you too!" Veemon commands, hopping in place excitedly. Wormmon uncurls himself, stretches his little legs, and gazes at me happily. I smile back, as though we share a secret that in reality, these people have helped us remember.
"Look at what," Dai is muttering into his hands, one mahogany eye peeking at his partner in faux annoyance. "I'm sleepin', here."
"No you're not," Veemon states bluntly, poking at the wild crop of hair. "You just talked, so you're awake. So get up and come see!"
"What is it we're supposed to be seeing?" I ask softly, getting to my feet. Veemon grins widely at my assent, then takes to jumping up and down on Daisuke's back as a new form of enticement. The destined of Courage and Friendship yowls and gesticulates wildly, legs thrashing through the air as he tries to sit up through the bombardment of bouncing. Finally he manages to jump to his sneakered feet, glaring at Veemon while rubbing his back, a slight red tinge spreading over his nose as he notices everyone giggling at the sight. Devil-may-care grin firmly in place, he raises his fingers in a feeble little 'V', then, wordlessly, ensnares my arm with his and marches us off the way our digimon direct.
As we depart, I can hear Miyako commenting on Daisuke's need for a pose coach, and Hawkmon's defeated sigh.
"So, Ken, how was school today?" Daisuke prompts while we walk. I manage not to flinch, eyes set solely on the path of our digimon.
My immediate instinct is to tell him it was fine, normal, inconsequential, but I can't lie to my Daisuke. Of course, he would bring it up again, and of course he knows I can't slip by this with excuses.
"Difficult" was the reply I finally decided on. He makes a small noise of understanding, and clears his throat slightly.
"You know, Ken, I was thinking maybe that your sch-.."
"Here it is!" Veemon hoots in delight, as he and Wormmon squeeze through a break in the underbrush. Pushing a low branch out of my way, stepping over a bush, I move forward to see what they were so keen on showing us.
Sunlight immediately floods the senses. Beside me I can hear Dai gasp as his eyes meet the same onslaught, and it's several long moments before I can blink away the spots.
The digimon are grinning at us triumphantly, no doubt pleased by our reaction, and behind him spreads a sunlit body of water, shifting and glittering, gently lapping at the sand. In a word, it's beautiful. In two words, it's achingly so. In twenty-five words, it's like something from a painting, so perfectly set that one must wonder if there was a higher hand in the construction of this vision.
… Mou. Enough of that game.
"This is incredible, guys," Dai congratulates, eyes wide. "I had no idea this was here!"
"I found it exploring, when we all first got here," Veemon admits, scratching at his head with his small draconian fingers. "And Wormmon knew about it, and thought you'd like it, too!"
The little green one meets my gaze and blushes slightly, squirming under my knowing look.
Digital matchmakers. You should have seen them before Dai and I got together, there was simply no stopping them.
"I do like it," Daisuke agrees, stooping to give Veemon a high-five. "Thanks, man! We should have all eaten here!"
"Sand in the food," I point out, stepping to the side to lean against a tree.
A genius in his own right, yes, but sometimes a little thick about these romantic set-ups. It only encourages the little ones to try harder, but they know I'm patient enough with this. It's a little embarrassing, really. If Osamu were here, he'd be rolling his eyes at Daisuke's naiveté, and quietly urging me to get closer.
… Now why did I think of that..?
"We'll be right back," Veemon announces, nudging Wormmon with an elbow. My digimon bobs his head shortly.
"It's just a moment.. wait here, ne Ken-chan?"
"Hai." Clever devils. They wander off into the dune grass, giggling, leaving me with Daisuke in this tiny little Eden.
"I wonder where they're going," muses my boyfriend, stretching out and flopping to a seat in the sand. One hand pats the area next to him invitingly, and I am treated with a waggle of eyebrows and his usual grin. Of course, I immediately sit with him, and his arm snakes around my waist as I rest my head on his shoulder. There's no awkwardness, no inappropriate elbow, no discomfort.
Just the way we're meant to be.
"Surprising to see an ocean so close to a forest," Daisuke notes, his voice soft and lilting so that I can just hear him over the sound of waves.
"There's a higher probability of it being a lake."
He smirks, shaking his head. "It's the digital world, it can be an ocean if it wants to be. Anything's possible here."
"There's a higher probability that it wants to be a lake, then."
"You're teasing me."
"I'm teaching you," I correct, pointing to the water with a pale, slim finger. "It's freshwater."
"Says who?"
"The species of fish I keep seeing." On cue, a glittering body launches from the water, shimmers, and slices back down inward.
"Ken," he starts, in a slightly annoyed (if amused) tone.
"Mmn?" I prompt, unable to stop a lazy smile, and glance upward from his shoulder.
Peering at me, his face contorts into a few interesting expressions, and then he ducks his head slightly to lay a quick kiss on my cheekbone.
"You still think too much."
"If that's the reward," I answer slowly, "I may never stop."
"I was gonna stick my tongue out but that felt a lot better in the long run," he admits. I chuckle at that, and he grins, rubbing at the back of his head. "Maybe next time I'll do both."
"Any particular order?"
"I wasn't planning on one. Is that a request?" Cherry-hued eyes glint mischievously in the sunlight.
"Tease," I mutter, resting against him a bit more. I can feel him tense up slightly, the muscles in his back bunching and relaxing, the arm around my waist releasing, and a moment later lifting a portion of my hair, fingers sliding through it almost experimentally. My eyes close to half-lid, taking in the simple, pleasurable sensation for minutes.
"Ne... Ken."
"Mmmn...?"
"I worry about you."
"Why's that?" I ask into his shoulder, living in the feel of his fingers. Lift, sliiiiide, pull…
"You're withdrawing again," he says quietly, if bluntly. "Maybe not from me, but… I think the others are noticing, too. You know I'm always here for you, but you have to have the others, too, you know. It can't be just me."
I take a moment to say farewell to the wonderful hair stroking before sitting up on my own, gazing at him in slight confusion.
"I'm not following."
He stews in frustration for a moment, and tries again. "I'm not really eloquent enough, but look… you hardly ever talk to the other Digidestined. I dunno if you're still … nervous… about what they might think about you, but you know we all accept you, Ken. We all love you."
"I…"
I know that. I do. But I let the statement trail off, instead, and look away to the water.
Escape is not so easy.
"You…?" Daisuke prompts, apparently unwilling to let it go, this time.
"It's so much easier, with you," I explain. "I know you're sincere. I can… feel that," I say slowly, one hand raising to press against my chest, feeling the heartbeat within. Knowing it matched his own. "But with them, I…"
"You don't think they mean it?" he interrupts incredulously. "You don't think Miyako, with her crest of sincerity, is sincere? Or that Iori doesn't completely mean every single thing he says? You think Hikari or Takeru would lie to you?"
"That's not what I meant," I insist, shaking my head. "I know they mean it, but I feel somehow that there will always be this shadow of doubt lingering, and I can't stand to face that. I… Daisuke, I don't know how else to make up for it all. I don't know what else to do."
It's almost an anger that flashes in his eyes, but I know it isn't. He's frustrated for me, desperate to help me get beyond this. Sometimes I think we're so close to reaching that point, it aches.
"I've talked to them about it, Ken. If there's a doubt you're feeling, than it's your own, because we all feel the same. You are one of us. Get it? There's no proving yourself or redeeming yourself, you can be just YOU and that's more than enough. That's all we want!"
I want to believe him. I say as much, and he shakes his head, eyes sparking.
"You have to put the past behind you, Ken. If you keep doing this to yourself… "
"Forgive me if I'm having a little difficulty putting something of that magnitude out of my thoughts," I snap. "I can't help this, you know."
"…I know. I'm sorry. I just… Look, let's change the subject."
"Sure," I murmur, waiting the approximate six or seven seconds for that decision to meet its death.
And sure enough…
"And you shouldn't care about school so much! You're getting all desperate-looking and I know you're trying hard, and that should be enough, damnit! If I came home with your grades, my parents would faint, and then wake up and throw a parade, and then make sure I hadn't been replaced by a cyborg or something!"
"You aren't coming home to my parents," I reply shortly. "Or facing my instructors. Or watching the expressions on my classmates. You don't understand, Daisuke, and I know you try, but you can't. You haven't been there, and you never will be. You don't understand what the pressure is like."
I cut off my tirade, feeling my throat tighten and unwilling to get emotional about it. Not now, not here. My boyfriend remains silent, either too worked up to talk yet, or left without anything to say.
There's a significantly long, pregnant pause, in which I manage to calm my heart and slow my breathing, listening to the steady rhythm of the water and the wind through the trees. The air is fresh, sharp, spiced with the close proximity of Daisuke's cinnamon-musk scent. Things slowly wind back to peaceful, like the perilous re-steadying of disturbed glassware, or the methodical tension release of a slowing centrifuge.
"Are you still having dreams about your brother?"
On the last syllable, there is the oddest sound… something snapping, or a pop of displacement. I sit upright, nearly falling over, and take a moment to realize it's because I'm suddenly alone.
And…
"What…?" Like suddenly switching filters, or turning on a feature in a photoshop program, the color vanishes just as Daisuke did… or maybe as I vanished, from where I was. Because I know this place.
There is still a sea, but the water rolls black and ominous, lapping onto an ashen shore. A mottled grey sky stretches on into mist, and the echo of the waves echoes off the fog and the cliffs, rebounding into a dull, lifeless roar in my ears, and a surge of wild panic rises up into my throat-...
I'm shaking.
No, that's wrong.
I'm being shaken.
With that realization comes reality, as quick and violent as a punch to the gut. Color resurges, blinding me temporarily, noises rush back, and foremost is Daisuke, hands gripping my shoulders and pushing-pulling me back to myself. I blink rapidly, bewildered, as he stares at me wide-eyed.
"Crap, man, don't do that!"
"What happened?" I ask, looking around slowly, reassuring myself of my location. The sunlight, the lake, the dunegrass, fish… all there. And me, here in the midst of it.
"You spaced out and got all pale and shaky and stuff," Daisuke tells me, worry pulling his features into a small frown. I look down at his arms, connecting the two of us, and his hands grasped firmly onto me. His tanned, callused hands, still latched on even after he stops shaking me. I reach to take hold of them, and surprise myself with their heat.
He, too, inhales in slight shock.
"Ken, you're freezing."
"Sou desu," I murmur through my daze. Logic is arguing with Panic in my mind, asserting that I never left this place, that it was a momentary lapse into a nightmare, while Panic blubbers that it's all happening again, quivering at the mere sight of the Dark Ocean. Dignity steps in between the two, reminds them that Daisuke is staring at me, and everyone silences.
"What happened?" he asks, releasing my shoulders and getting to his feet, offering me a hand up. "Was it because I asked about those nightmares?"
I shake my head, taking his hand and hauling myself to my feet.
"I don't think so. I just… maybe I'm tired. I remembered something that I didn't want to remember, is all."
He squints at me thoughtfully, and then turns this gaze toward the lake.
"Oh."
But I don't think he understands, and I don't want to talk about this anymore. I've developed lots of ways of hiding emotions, over the years. I'm adept at letting my hair shadow my eyes, so he doesn't see the weary, half-sick confusion that I detect in the mirror lately. There's no need for him to worry about me. There are more deserving things.
Unfortunately, this method of escape is well-known by Wormmon, who has made a timely return with Veemon.
"Ken-chan…?" he offers quietly, scuttling towards us, eyes huge and expressive.
Terrific. I'm worrying two of them.
Scratch that, now Veemon's in on the act.
I just can't win.
"I'm fine," I declare, lifting my head, swallowing it all down with an aftertaste of bile. "I haven't been sleeping too well lately."
"That's true," Wormmon sighs with regret.
"When I can't sleep too well, Daisuke plays with me til I'm all worn out!" Veemon says, rocking back on his heels and tail. "Maybe that'll work with Ken!"
Daisuke blinks, his tanned face turning pink. "W-well, we usually… um… I don't think…"
"And I'm much more energetic than Ken is, right? I bet you'd wear him out in no time!"
By this time, I must be pink as well.
"I think the others are having dessert," a light alto interrupts.
Wormmon. Oh, bless you Wormmon.
"Dessert!" Veemon erupts, starting in the direction of the picnic and glancing over his shoulder at us, eyes wild with anticipation. "Dessert is my favorite meal! We gotta go, come on, come on!"
"D-dessert," Dai repeats, before bursting into nervous laughter. "Yeah, alright! Let's go get some dessert!"
"Cake, cake, wai wai!" Veemon sings, cutting an impromptu jig. Wormmon glances up at me with both bemusement and embarrassment. My dignified little friend. I chuckle and pick him up gently.
"You know you like cake just as much," I whisper, and he giggles into my arm.
"I wonder if they've got chocolate…"
They do.
The other digidestined have already started into the sweets, Miyako having surrounded herself by an éclair temple, and Iori solemnly sucking on some sort of yogurt tube. Takeru, nearby, is laughing himself silly watching Daisuke and Veemon rush headlong into the pile of digimon, as that is, of course, where the food is. Hawkmon is waxing ecstatic over a spongecake, Armadillomon munches happily on a candybar, and Tailmon and Patamon guard their pocky possessively as Veemon makes several grabs for it.
I set Wormmon down on the blanket as I cut us two slices of the chocolate cake, lay them on paper plates, and attempt to maneuver through the small party with a modicum of grace. There's an invitingly empty spot near Daisuke and Takeru, and I carefully lower myself to a seated position, handing a plate to Wormmon and resting the other on my lap.
"Daisuke's folks made it," Takeru notes from my left with his trademark sunny grin. "So we don't have to worry about suspicious ingredients."
Referring to the last picnic, in which we all tried a peculiar concoction put together by Hikari's mother, which I rather enjoyed but Daisuke found to be egregious. Surprising, as usually I'm the picky one about foods.
"That's good to know," I reply in good humor, separating a small square of cake with my fork, and lifting it to my mouth. "He complained of bellyache for hours."
Takeru chuckles, shaking his head.
"He's already mentioned it, before you and Wormmon got here. There was much rejoicing, though Hikari got a bit defensive. She's off washing the plates."
I raise my eyebrows, wondering if she'd headed for the lake, or if there were a nearby stream as well. I rather hoped it to be the latter; I was strangely possessive of the spot that had, for a moment, been our romantic little hideout.
Wormmon looks up with, and despite his efforts he's gotten chocolate on his mandibles. I reach over with a napkin and a small 'tsk', wiping it for him, when Patamon finally swallows his pocky and joins the conversation.
"Actually, Hikari's been back for a while, but she's just standing over there at the treeline."
"Huh?" Takeru blinks, looking up as I do. It's true. She's standing at the treeline, staring at us with her crimson gaze.
Mark that. She's staring at me, with the oddest expression on her face.
"I wonder what's up?" Veemon says around a mouthful of fruity candies. Daisuke flops down in front of me, grinning like a loon while tossing several gummy bears from hand to hand.
"She's realized how good looking Ken is," he jokes. "And that it's almost as good as me!"
Takeru and Patamon roll their eyes in remarkable synch, and Dai leans forward to try to coax a gummy into my mouth. I shake my head firmly.
"Those don't go with chocolate."
I wish she'd stop staring at me.
"Chocolate goes with everything!" Veemon argues.
"Chocolate is best alone," Wormmon sighs blissfully, finishing his cake.
I really, really wish she'd stop.
"No, chocolate is best with more chocolate!" Daisuke announces, depositing the rejecting gummy bear into his mouth instead. I take another two bites of my cake, keeping my eyes on the dark spongy sweet until the sound of footsteps and settling signals that she's actually walked over and rejoined us. Warily, I take one more bite before raising my gaze again.
She's talking with Tailmon, thankfully. There's nothing quite so eerie as being stared at while eating, and I take the chance to finish up the dessert that's gone regrettably tasteless.
Miyako stands with a flourish, tugging Iori to his feet despite the protests of the short boy.
"Deeeeeeee-licious!" she crows. "Let's all clean up so we can do the visit!"
"Visit?" I ask Daisuke, settling Wormmon's plate onto my own and resting the fork thereupon.
"There's a village nearby," he helps, "an' we decided to check in on 'em, maybe play a game of soccer with the little ones."
"Daisuke's like the Chosen Babysitter of the entire Digital World," Armadillamon rasps with a giggle.
"He does have quite a way with them," Iori follows. "Are you coming, Ken?"
"I… sure," I decide hesitantly. I still feel awkward about going to visit so many digimon. They must regard me with such hatred, but the others would only convince me to go anyhow if I opt out on that excuse.
"You'll do fine," Wormmon murmurs near my leg, in his knowing way. Daisuke glances over, somehow having overheard, and raises an eyebrow toward me. I show him a smile that's most likely at least half true.
Half true isn't all that bad, right?
Apparently my feeble reassuring is as transparent to him as it is to me; as we walk to the village, his hand steals its way to mine, and grips it tightly. The other Digidestined and their partners seem to exchange a glance, and walk a little further up, even little Iori with his short, rushed legs. To my surprise, Wormmon and Veemon share a similar look and also speed up.
"So everyone can see right through me," I whisper to myself with a little sigh.
"Amazing the powers of friendship, ne?" Dai replies with a rather gregarious wink. "They're worried 'bout you."
"I don't see why."
"Cos they see the same things I do, Ken, even though I thought they didn't. I figured that much out at the picnic. They're all worried for you, about how you're handling things, and wondering what they can do to help."
I give dark blue eyes a bit of a roll. "You can tell Hikari that her method of staring is most certainly not 'help'."
"Yeah, that was a little high on the creepy meter," Daisuke mutters, rubbing at the back of his head with his hand, his most frequent nervous gesture. "But, well, Hikari can be a little out there sometimes."
On the heels of his random comment, I'm suddenly just about drowning in the strangest urge to blabber incoherently with the confusion and terror of my life as of late. Of the dreams, which he knows, and the visions, which he doesn't, and the voice, which he most certainly doesn't. But I won't have him worrying over me.
Like he says, worrying too much will cause wrinkles.
Yet my divided mind fools me again, for even as I've decided that he's better off not knowing, I can hear myself tell him, simply, that I'm afraid.
Wonder of wonders, he nods as though he knew.
"I can tell, you know. Not about the little things, like visiting digimon, though I know that bugs you too. But all of this, right now. Your wonky nightmares and stuff. It's just a .. whatsit.. a transition, Ken. You just sit tight and wait it out, the rest of the world aint as smart as me so it'll take em a little more time to see that you're perfect just who you are."
His shining cherry eyes bore deep into mine, waiting for a reply.
"Wonky?" I repeat with a small smile.
"My vocab is limitless cos I make my own words." A wink, again. "The secret of my charm and success."
"You're impossible," I sigh, shaking my head. "But I do feel better, Daisuke. Thank you."
"I keep telling ya that you gotta put it behind you," he sighs, "but maybe it only seems simple to me cos I'm on the outside and looking in. I don't wanna be, but I am. So I just keep telling you and hope it gets past those math formulas and sinks into your brain. It wasn't you, back then. It was someone else, and you don't have to live with that guilt."
"But I-.."
"But nothing!" he interrupts. "You're Ken, and that's all you are, and all you have to be. Got it?"
Ordinarily I would have asked him just who Ken was, because maybe I wasn't all that sure. We no doubt would have argued a bit. He would have shoved his hands into his pockets and pouted (in his defense, a very manly pout) and say that I was too stubborn to listen… which I was. Usually.
But now… it may have been the sunlight, or the sanctuary of the rough, warm hand in my own, but… I was starting to believe him.
A flash of reflected sunlight caught my eye, and I pulled my gaze from the path to investigate. Somehow the direction we were taking had brought us parallel to the lake that had held our attention earlier in the day, and now it again graced my vision, pristine, calm, and crystalline.
"Um. Ken?"
"Yes?"
"You've stopped."
"…Give me a minute, alright?" I ask softly, slipping my hand out from his and walking toward the break in the trees intently. The sudden burst of sunlight is less dazzling, this time, but I'm not here to look at the scenery. I take a deep breath, followed by another, and another, taking in the coolness and releasing a sticky heat. Cleansing. There's something right about this place, more-so than it being a pretty spot for Dai and I, something right for me.
Before my actions can register, I realize I have knelt, and have my digivice submerged the cold, clear water.
"A ridiculous and unnecessary symbolic gesture," I murmur to myself, but as I stand I'm smiling, and somehow… a little lighter. The digivice is, of course, still it's inky grey shade. I wasn't expecting anything else. I didn't need anything else.
Daisuke raises his eyebrows as I rejoin him on the path. The others are far ahead now, we'll have to run a bit to catch up.
"What was that about?" he asks as I match my steps with his again, tucking my digivice away and wiping wet hands on my shirt.
"I had to clean up," I answer with a smile, my hand finding his once more as we race after our friends.
My other self, rushing into the shadow with your redheaded koibito... willingly stepping into the darker portions of the world. If I pinch myself, I may be able to ignore the sugary-perfect symbolism that could represent.
I like things complex, after all.
It's the most rewarding, see, when you're feeling secure and warm, when the tension in your shoulders finally lets, when the burden seems somehow, suddenly, light. The worst for you is the absolute best for me; you pain is like sweet mana. I believe I crave it.
Still, I needn't disguise the fact that I have my own agenda, and that it transcends far, far beyond simple Ken-torture (not that I don't enjoy delving into such sport, along with so many others). It is a matter of time, now, and the time is very short indeed. Patience pays off, doesn't it? I can be as patiently calculating as I need to be. I could have waited years.
Lucky for me, however, this .. opening up of yours, this slow and gradual lessening of you personal shields.. has expedited the process.
If you were listening to me at all, you would be confused.
Or… perhaps not. I may be underestimating you. You are, of course, some facsimile of me, though I've yet to untangle who is real and who is the illusion. On a more immature scale, which of us was "here" first. I think it may not matter anymore. Watch Darwinism take place at our hands, this survival of the fittest. I know who is most fit to exist.
And Oh! I finally glance around and see what a state my business has fallen to. My structures crushed, my lines cut, my sources tapped. Stamp out the fire the Kaiser had built and save the precious little world you love. Why should it be the way you like it?
Miss a single spark and the blaze returns, full force. Did you forget that, my mentally inadequate companion? No matter. I shall remind you, soon enough.
Ah. The Gate is open, isn't it? You're returning to that dull world again. The realm of insects and roleplaying. Very well.
There is an agenda for me there, as well.
And it is significantly more fun.
Thank god. Thought I'd never fix that up.
(Adult Detective Ken) … It still doesn't answer any questions. If anything, it's worse!
You're the muse, mister. You don't like it, gimme something better.
(ADK) … I'm new at this. That's the best I can do.
Nyah. Then stop whining.
(ADK) But what the hell is he planning?!
You're the cop, you tell me.
(ADK) I wish Stingmon were here..
Me too. He could give me tips on how to stop Ken from rambling.
(ADK) I do not!! .. … well.. when I was younger, maybe…
And always thinking about yourself. So self-absorbed!
(ADK) Geniuses tend to be.
… sou desu ne.