Disclaimer: This story is written for fun-purpose only. I don't own Digimon or the characters I use in this story; and no money is made with this fanfic.

Last chapter! There's going to be an epilogue after this, but I'm going to upload it straight away, so don't worry – you don't have to wait.

I'm surprised that I made so many people cry. I certainly didn't expect that…and now I feel really pressured to make a good ending. Well…actually, I kind of like the last lines, but maybe it's too cheesy…not sure about that. At least the story is finished now (phew!).

Little Dragon

by Kaeera

Chapter Eleven: Funeral for a sister

Opening the door to her room was one of the hardest things Daisuke had ever done.

His friends had offered to accompany him, so that he wouldn't be alone, but he had refused, insisting that he needed to do it on his own. He felt he owned Jun that much…it was a strange gut feeling, one he couldn't really explain.

His parents were busy, trying to deal with their grief and at the same time informing relatives, organising everything for the – the idea made him sick – funeral.

Jun's funeral.

So it came that he was all alone in the apartment, with the exception of Veemon, who hovered determinately by his side. He wouldn't leave his partner, no matter what.

"It's kind of stupid, really." Daisuke muttered more to himself, hand lingering over the door handle.

"What?" Veemon looked up at him expectantly.

"That I'm afraid of entering my sister's room." He hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. "It's just…this is Jun's room. She's been in here forever…I mean, I can't remember a time when this room wasn't hers! But now, she's gone…and the room is still there…"

He didn't cry. No, instead he just stared ahead, lost and miserable. Daisuke felt achy and tired, as if he'd run a marathon.

"I don't think it's stupid." Veemon shook his head. "It's okay to be afraid. I am, too. I can't believe she's gone. But she is. And this room will only remind us of it, as long as it is there."

The digimon took a deep breath. "You don't have to go in there if you don't want to. We can wait. Do it later, when you're more prepared. When you feel up to it."

"You're right." Daisuke said slowly, the thoughts turning in his head. Then a small smile appeared on his face. "But as I'm the Chosen of my Courage, it is my duty to fight against my fears." Resolutely, he turned the door handle and opened the door.

The room was as messy as Daisuke's. Nobody had bothered to clean it up – after all, they had believed, had hoped, that Jun would come back to do it herself. Daisuke could remember his mother's face all too clearly when she had said those words – the tears glinting in her eyes, the watery smile.

"We're not changing anything in her room. Jun would be angry when she gets back from the hospital…"

The room was still a mess, but Jun would never come back.

Signs of the older Motomiya sibling were everywhere. Clothes strewn on the floor, colourful T-Shirts, skirts and shoes (most of them boots, as Jun seemed to have developed a strange liking for them). The desk was full of books and papers, piled so high that it was a miracle in itself they were still standing.

Daisuke smiled softly as he discovered a cup with some brown liquid in it. Jun loved to drink tea, but she would always forget to clean up the cups afterwards, which annoyed the rest of the family to no end. More than once Daisuke had opened the kitchen cupboard just to find it devoid of any cups, and when he had looked into his sister's room, they were all their, piled on the desk, on the floor and near the bed.

He stepped closer to the desk and stared at the books. Carefully, he flipped one open and flinched when he read his sister's messy scrawl.

"She's never going to need those again," the boy whispered softly and closed his eyes.

He put the book back and started looking at the photos that were pinned against the wall. Most of them showed Jun with her friends, on a school excursion to Kyoto, shopping in the mall, the short trip to the beach they had taken.

One of them spotlighted Jun hunting down Yamato, who had the shit-there's-no-escape-look on his face. Daisuke remembered that particular moment; Hikari had taken the photo, while the rest of them had been busy laughing about the crazy antics of his sister and Yamato's suffering expression.

Jun had liked it, stating that it portrayed her daily life, and besides, she liked photos that showed her and a cute guy.

Yep, that was Jun indeed.

There were a couple of pictures of him, as well. Daisuke as a little kid, in his pyjamas and clinging to Jun's leg with a scared look on his face (he used to have nightmares a lot).

Daisuke and Veemon, sitting on the couch and snoring loudly, drool trailing down his face (who had taken that picture? How embarrassing! And she had put it into her room?)

And finally, he and Jun sitting on the couch and arguing over the remote control. Both were wearing the same stubborn expression on their faces; the 'I'm-not-giving-in' look that made them so very alike.

Daisuke softly touched the picture. "We're never going to argue about the remote again," he told Veemon and was surprised at the steadiness of his own voice. "It's…I can't imagine that. I mean, we did it every day. No matter when I wanted to watch TV, I always had to fight for it. Jun…she wanted to watch her stupid soap operas, or one of those music channels…and she'd never let me watch my animes or the latest sports news…and so we'd fight…"

His voice trailed off as he took the photo off the wall. "I hated her for it. I wished for some peace, so that I'd be able to watch whatever I wanted. I longed for her to be gone. I was so fed up with having to argue all the time…"

"She kept you on your toes." Veemon stated.

"I know." Daisuke stared at the picture one last time and then pocketed it. "And the weird thing is, I'm going to miss it. Hell, I'm going to miss it…"

He turned around and sat down on the desk chair. The room still held so much of Jun's presence that he almost couldn't believe she was dead. But she was, and sitting here made the pain only worse.

Daisuke lifted his head and stared at the ceiling. "I guess you're up there now," he murmured softly. "Probably arguing about your wings and looking for a cute angel guy you can hunt down."

He sighed. It wasn't fair. She had been gone for – what? A day? Barely. And yet he missed her so much, it was crazy. Sure, Ken had said that it would get better, that the pain would lessen, but right now, he couldn't imagine that would ever happen.

Slowly, the boy sank to the ground. "God, I miss you!" he whispered and closed his eyes.

"It's alright to cry." Veemon crawled into his lap and looked at him comfortingly. "Jun would understand."

"Of course she would," Daisuke smiled shakily. "She always understood more than she let on. But I've cried so much today, I don't think I have any tears left. I don't want to cry anymore, not today…not now." He pulled the digimon closer, seeking comfort in a hug. "I just wonder…is the pain ever going to lessen?"

Veemon hugged him back. "Of course it will. You're one of the strongest people I know; you can overcome this. You can't let the grief win, Davis. You have to do what Jun told you – continue living. You can't withdraw from life. Can't give up. She would have been disappointed. And if you keep on fighting, and living, and well, being Daisuke, then it's going to get better. Gradually."

"Are you sure?" Daisuke's voice sounded frail and lost.

The digimon nodded determinedly. "Yes, I am. You will never stop missing her; that would be a lie and you and I know it. But the pain will diminish. One day, you'll be able to remember her without feeling the need to cry. You'll remember her and smile, because you were happy together, because she was a great sister, because she was Jun."

Veemon paused and reflected on his words. "But those things take time. The wound is still fresh, and you're hurting. It's alright. Nobody blames you because of it. Just…don't shut us out, alright? Let me comfort you. Let the others comfort you. We're your friends and we want to help you."

Daisuke nodded slowly. "I…well…"

"You can't do this alone." Veemon insisted. "But we can do it together."

The Chosen of Courage took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. He remembered Jun's letter. He remembered her gentle words, her reassurances and her plea not to give up.

"You're right." He nodded and hugged the little digimon. "You're right."

Thank you, Veemon. For telling me the truth. For reminding me what's important. For keeping my sanity.

Thank you, my friend, for being there.

Funeral

The gravestone was simple, with only her name, her birth date and a couple of words carved into it. The white marble shimmered slightly in the golden sunlight, looking peaceful to the world.

They stood in a half circle around it, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Daisuke's parents were holding each other, their faces sad and withdrawn. All the Chosen were there, as well, complete with digimon. Daisuke stood apart from them, his hair moving with the gentle wind, his expression unreadable. He hadn't shed a single tear during the entire funeral, had just stared ahead sightlessly.

Hikari couldn't help being worried. It wasn't like Daisuke to be so withdrawn. Jun had died over two weeks ago, and so far, Daisuke had taken it remarkably well. He had accepted their help, had even cried in front of them.

Today was…different.

It had started with the clothes. The boy had refused to wear anything formal, insisting that Jun wouldn't have liked it. His sister preferred bright colours, he had argued, and so they should dress that way. Now he was wearing a blue T-Shirt and black trousers with flame stripes on their sides. Everybody had been confused, of course, but when Daisuke had explained, they had agreed to do the same.

And so it came that a merrily dressed party arrived at the graveyard, much to the shock of the Motomiyas. Well, most of them. His parents seemed to have expected something like that; but then again, Hikari guessed, with Daisuke as their son, they were used to being surprised.

Nobody had really cried during the funeral speeches, but there was such an overwhelming feeling of sadness and loss in the air that it seemed heavy and oppressing.

"Look." Miyako hissed, startling the girl out of her thoughts. They had started throwing the flowers on the grave, a last farewell everybody was supposed to say.

Family usually came first, but Daisuke lingered behind, waiting for everybody of his relatives to be finished before he stepped forward. The white lily was grasped tightly in his hands, as he stared at the grave for long seconds.

"I'm going to miss you," he began and hesitated, his voice rough and shaky. "It's not fair that you had to leave us this early. After all this fighting and…well…I really thought we could do it." Daisuke paused, gathering his composure. "I'm going to do what…what you told me to do. And I think…well, I thing I can do it. But I'll always miss you."

The lily fell out of his fingers and sailed slowly to the ground. "Love you, Jun." Daisuke whispered and then whirled around, leaving the grave and everyone else behind. He was supposed to go to the funeral get-together next, but how could he? He didn't want to see all his relatives with the pitiful looks on their faces, their false smiles, their reassurances that 'everything would be okay'.

Instead, he walked away from the others, until he found a calm spot where he was alone with his thoughts.

The day had passed in a whirlwind of different events. The memories ran together in a blur, and Daisuke honestly couldn't say what he'd been up to since this morning.

But one image was burned forever in his mind, etched into his memory.

He and his parents standing in front of the grave, with the white lilies in their hands. Three people. Three, not four.

Daisuke stared at the sky, reflecting on the irony of it all. Very often he had wished for Jun to disappear, had wished for more attention from his parents. Now his mother was basically smothering him and he hated it. He couldn't blame her, though; she had already lost one child, and the fear of losing another was clearly visible in her eyes.

He was an only child now.

It hurt.

"Miss you…" Daisuke whispered and looked at the white clouds that were moving over the sky. Was Jun up there? Like the angels in the stories? Or was she somewhere else?

Wherever she was, he thought wryly, she would make her way with the typical Motomiya stubbornness. Somehow, that thought made him feel better than any consolations ever would. Life would be difficult without his sister; and very often, he'd be devastated. Or feeling like he was now, utterly alone and lost, so caught in his own grief that they world seemed to have lost all colour.

But, as everybody had said and Jun insisted, life went on. Life didn't care about losses and death, it just, well, continued to flow. The sun was still rising, the earth still turning. The city bustled around him, humans everywhere, following their tasks, living their own, separate lives. Nobody of them knew what had happened to him – and, if he was honest to himself, nobody really cared.

Nothing stopped because Jun was dead.

'You are to go outside and do well in life, is that understood, Daisuke Motomiya?'

The words from the letter came back to his mind, and he smiled, not because it was really funny, but because the wording was so typically Jun…

'I want you to remember me in fondness and not in tears. And I'd rather have it if you celebrated my funeral in some kind of karaoke bar, but I guess Mum and Dad are going to be against that. Pity. Would have been cool.'

Now that made him laugh. Only Ken knew that those particular lines had been what inspired him to wear his fancy outfit. Jun would have thrown a tantrum would she have known that he was wearing formal wear. Of course, his parents had protested, but when he had showed them the letter – and explained why he was doing it – they had been remarkably adamant.

And, much to his surprise, his mother had exchanged her white scarf against a red one, showing at least a speck of colour.

"You're influencing us even now, you know that?" Daisuke told the sky.

He could almost imagine her voice floating back to him. I damn well should, followed by that dry chuckle that was simply hers.

'You're probably crying right now and missing me terribly. Don't deny it, Davis; I know that you love me, as I always loved you. We just didn't show it.'

Yes, it was true, he was missing her terribly, and the pain was as sharp as a knife, digging through his heart, but somehow…somehow he felt at peace.

Little Dragon

Stretch your wings and fly

Leave behind the burden you bear

And soar through the skies

Like you always did

Mind and spirit free

Daisuke took one last glance at the clouds and waved. Who knew, maybe she was there and snickered because he was behaving so foolishly. Or maybe she waved back, glad that he thought of her.

Then he turned around to face his friends. Hikari smiled at him, her eyes sad, yet full of warmth and compassion. Ken simply stood beside her, ready to be there if needed, but understanding that he needed his space.

Takeru smiled – a hopeful, cheerful smile that meant more to him than thousand words, because it showed that his blonde friend and rival was still there, ready to support him despite their differences.

Miyako looked uncomfortable – he could see the sadness in her eyes, but she'd never been one for open feelings and so she didn't know what to do. It was actually quite amusing to see her fidget.

Finally Iori, who looked grave and small, so very responsible and attentive. He, too, knew about grief and understood Daisuke better than he let on.

"You okay, Davis?" A small voice asked, and the boy looked down to see his digimon partner.

Daisuke smiled at Veemon and bent down to scoop him up in his arms. "Well…that's a stupid question, you know?" he replied as he made his way back to the others.

Veemon blushed. "Oh. Probably." He paused for a moment. "So…will you be okay?"

He turned to look at his friend and felt surprised at the understanding shimmering in the big, purple eyes. Veemon knew. All along, he had known what was going on in Daisuke's heart, and he had offered his support without being obvious. Even now he understood that he was a long way from being 'fine'; and he accepted it, just like that, understanding that there were moments when, well, when nothing was okay.

It flattered him to have such a friend by his side.

Daisuke looked up at his friends and their digimon, and then at the white marble stone behind them. He remembered all the times they had spent together, the fights they had endured, the fun they'd had. And he remembered Jun's words, with a painful clarity that dug through the haze of pain and sadness.

"That's a difficult question to answer," he began and blinked against the sunlight. "But…well, would you know…I guess I will be."

He was surprised at his own answer, yet he knew that it was true. He wasn't okay. No, he was still sad and angry and grieving and missing Jun with every fibre of his being. But at the same time, he just knew – felt it somewhere deep in his heart – that, given time, he would be alright, that life continued and he'd be a part of it.

Daisuke nodded thoughtfully and patted Veemon's head in an unspoken gesture of understanding. His heart felt a lot lighter all of sudden.

A blackbird was singing not far away, the beautiful melody mingling with the other peaceful sounds of the graveyard. Daisuke closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the song, caught by the sheer beauty of it.

Then, slowly, he started smiling. His voice was barely above a whisper when he finally replied, but Veemon heard it anyway, and so did the other Chosen. The response brought a smile to their faces, and suddenly the day seemed a lot brighter.

"Yes. I'm going to be okay."

Because it was true, because he knew – felt - he would adjust, because he was strong and he didn't have to face it alone.

He was Daisuke, and he never gave up. He would miss his sister and he would cry and rage and mope, but in the end, he would continue fighting, because that was what he did, because that was what made him Daisuke.

To be concluded in the epilogue…