Story Title: Misplaced Chosen Children

Chapter Title: Please, come back.

Series Title: Misplaced Chosen Children Universe

Author: Mathais

Rating: PG-13

Category: Digimon

Archive: Fanfiction net

Warnings: Shonen-ai, Shojo-ai, Het

Pairings: For now, Taichi/Sora, Koushirou/Mimi, Jyou/Yamato

Summary: In a battle, the digimon are deleted and the chosen children scattered. They begin to remember who they were again and gather, changed by the worlds they lived in. But what if people in those places don't want them to go?

Disclaimer: Digimon does not belong to me.

References: None

Note: This is the main story, detailing the events that pass after the prologue. This will deal with those left behind.



A brown-haired teen looked to the sky, his equally brown eyes dark with worry. A loose blue t-shirt covered his torso, a star to the side. His jaw was clenched tight, the harsh lines of a leader drawing his face into a mixture of remorse and anger.

You guys left. You weren't supposed to leave.

A single tear trickled down his eye, dropping silently on the balcony of the apartment he lived in with his family.

It's too soon. Apocalymon wasn't supposed to come back. We should have had peace.

"Taichi?"

The soft feminine voice caught his ear, making him turn. Another teen stood there, this one a girl. Her auburn hair was cut to her neck, red eyes softened just for him. A simple red shirt covered her chest, jeans hugging her hips. Yagami Taichi turned. "Hey Sora."

Takenouchi Sora shook her head, coming to stand by him. "It was too soon."

Taichi didn't answer, only continued to look out at the stars above. Before, they had shown the battle with the apocalyptic creature and they all watched as even with Imperial Dramon Paladin Mode out, nothing could stop this reborn Apocalymon. He had pulled out Algol's Flame, for Qinglongmon's sake! Only Demon Super Ultimate was supposed to be able to use that one.

"They wouldn't want us to mourn, not with Apocalymon out there building strength." Sora turned, offering a soft, if somewhat tired and shaky smile. "They went peaceful, smiling. Even Takeru."

Oh, how that one hurt. Takeru had died by a Death Claw through the stomach. They hadn't heard the screams, but the pain on his face had caused Yamato's facade to break. It wasn't pleasant. He still went out smiling though: that was something that Taichi had to give them credit for. Even as Hikari, his own sister, was stabbed with Piemon's Trump Sword, she still smiled. Miyako and Iori had died painlessly too, the Gaia Destroyer of Black War Greymon killing them instantly. Daisuke and Ken had been incinerated in a flash by the Algol's Flame.

"Taichi." The rough voice called from behind him and he wiped another trail of tears away from his eyes.

"Yeah Agumon?" He summoned a smile for his life-long partner.

"Piyomon and I want to know if you want to go for a ride." The small yellow dinosaur stepped out, a pink bird following him.

"Sora?" He turned to his companion.

"I'd like that Piyo." Sora managed to smile.

Taichi held out his new digivice, a D-3. This one had inverted colors than the younger generation. Where theirs had white, there was orange and where their colors were, his was white. Sora pulled out a red version of it.

"Digimental Up." Both whispered.

This was another thing they inherited: the Digimentals. They had received the one corresponding their crest, but Taichi had received Hikari's Light and Yamato had gotten Takeru's Hope.

"Piyomon armor shinka!" She started glowing a soft red light, eventually turning into a thinner version of the stereotypical dragon, pure pink with red armor almost everywhere. "Kaze Dramon!"

"Agumon armor shinka!" Taichi's partner was overcome with pink light, the Digimental of Light shooting out into him. He became a long armored orange salamander; long angel wings the purest white appearing out of the back. "Shine Lizamon!"

The two mounted their partners and flew into the night.


A red-headed boy scanned the monitor of his computer. His dark eyes didn't once leave the screen, the text flashing rapidly again and again. Updating the digimon database. Updating the chosen children profiles. He had a complete list of all the chosen children in their world, everyone and their partners. Most of them had a footnote that said Inactive. Six of them had Passive. Now he had to change six of them again. Deceased. Somehow, typing those words brought the tears to life.

Can't cry. Can't. If I cry then I'll falter.

Six profiles. Active. Inputting new digimentals. Inputting new evolutions. Keep on working. Can't think. Can't cry when working.

"Koushirou?" The quiet voice broke his reverie and the teen turned. Orangeish eyes stained slightly with tears stared back at him, framed by natural strawberry blonde hair. A nightgown crossed her body, but Izumi Koushirou didn't want to admire the curves of his girlfriend right now. He just wanted his siblings back.

"Mimi..." He spoke, turning back to his computer.

"You can't do this to yourself." The soft padding of feet brought Tachikawa Mimi closer, letting her rest one slightly tanned hand on his shoulder. "Don't drown yourself in your work."

"But I have to." Koushirou responded, not turning. "I can't stop. I can't think. If I think... I'll think about them."

"We're supposed to think about them." Mimi spoke softly. "But slowly killing yourself won't work. We're still needed. Apocalymon is still out there."

His fist clenched, knuckles turning white. "Apocalymon's going to pay. He will pay."

The cool hand gripped his shoulder harder. "Rein your dark emotions in. We don't want Tentomon using ankouk shinka."

He let loose a small sigh, feeling his emotions come loose again. Mimi was surprised when Koushirou buried his face into her chest and started sobbing his heart out.

"I miss them. I miss matching wits with Miyako and Ken. I miss Daisuke and Iori clashing daily over issues. I miss Takeru's innocent curiosity. I miss Hikari's quiet reassurance. They were our backbone Mimi. I miss them." He continued to sob into her nightgown, but Mimi didn't care, just let her own tears fall.

The two continued to sit there, crying for those lost, illuminated by only the light of the computer monitor.

And a bug digimon, Tentomon, and a plant digimon, Palmon, watched sadly after their partners, feeling the losses within themselves.


Soft strands of guitar music echoed throughout the apartment. The blue-haired man took the key given to him and opened the door. The lighting was practically non-existent, the only light coming from the street lamps and the stars above. At the kitchen, leaning against the counter, was a man, smoking a cigarette. Dark eyes met blue, haunted eyes met haunted eyes.

"Jyou." The man nodded.

"Ishida-san." Kido Jyou returned the nod, pushing back a dark blue strand of hair.

Mr. Ishida's eyes glistened with unshed tears, but he held them back for his son. "Yamato's in his room. We all need each other, but I need to help Natsuko..." He looked torn, the embers of his cigarette dying away.

"I'll take care of Yamato. Go to her." Jyou whispered, understanding.

"Let yourself mourn too." Mr. Ishida spoke as he left. "I learned that a long time ago. Just because everyone has their faith in you, that doesn't mean you can't let yourself mourn. Otherwise you'll crack." With that sage advice, he left.

Jyou entered Yamato's room, watching with worried eyes his lover. The cold boy's demeanor had cracked, soft words to a sad song drifting through the air. The melancholy sounds drifted through the air, entwining itself around the medical student and bringing phantoms of tears to the eyes behind the glasses. The other boy's blonde hair hung limp, as if he hadn't bothered to take care of it. Icy blue eyes were closed and the voice that he loved so held so much pain that it hurt.

As the last strands of the song faded, Jyou stepped up to his lover, listening to the soft crying that was him in so much pain.

He did nothing but hold the other teen, rocking him slightly. The pain was too fresh - there was no need for words. A softly whispered Yamato was all the other teen really needed. Curled against his chest, the normally cold and aloof boy cried his eyes, heart, soul, and lungs out for those lost, especially his little brother, Takeru.

As he let a few tears escape from his eyes, Jyou vowed silently that Apocalymon would pay.

In the bathroom, Gomamon silently paddled across the water, Gabumon sitting on the tiles next to him. Neither said a word, too much pain to really speak, too much lost in a day.


All the way in another continent, another boy sobbed his heart out. The golden-haired boy curled up on his bed, in a purple t-shirt and blue pants, feeling his heart tug and tug again. His friends were gone - lost to the creature that dare kill them. He had no one, no one who understood. He was alone. Tears leaked silently from his blue eyes, soaking his pillow as he continued to cry and cry and cry.

"Wallace." Two creatures walked up to him and jumped on his bed, curling up against him.

"Terriermon. Lopmon." Wallace Johnson hugged the dog and bunny digimon closer to him, allowing his tears to soak their fur. "I miss them. God, why'd they have to die? They weren't supposed to die, not the way they did." His sobs continued, Terriermon and Lopmon continuing to comfort their shared chosen child.

"I loved them all." Wallace spoke through the tears. "I loved them all."

There was no more to be said as Wallace fell into a fitful slumber, still clutching his digimon as if they were his last link to the world.

And they let him, for if they let go, who would he have?