VIRAL; adjective

Pertaining to or involving the spreading of information and opinions

"They did say the woods to the south, right?" Miyako was the one to break the tense silence that had fallen between her, Iori, and their digimon partners. Normally the digimon were lively and talkative, but it was clear that in the wake of their most recent fight, they were all more concerned about Ken's condition.

"Yes. And I'm sure they haven't gotten far," replied Iori, looking carefully at their surroundings.

"It's just... we've been looking for what seems like forever, and there's just nothing out here."

After some much needed rest, Pururumon had evolved back to Poromon, and was now doing his best to fly small circles around their little team, looking for any signs of trouble, or traces they could follow. Their new addition, however, was still sleeping in the crook of Miyako's elbow.

Iori's only response was silence. Always a bit more serious than someone of his age would normally seem, he was the inheritor of Knowledge and Honesty; little white lies of encouragement had never been his strong suit, and although he was determined to find the answers they were looking for, his hopes were not high. Although he and Ken had never been close, they were team-mates, and he was just as concerned for him as Miyako and the others. At least, he thought so. Of course, three years ago, things would have been different.

Why am I even thinking about that? Iori wondered to himself. Things had changed a lot since then. Ken had clearly displayed his merits and commitments to the team, and the days of the Digimon Kaiser were all but shadows in their memories. It was hard to really believe that Ken and the Kaiser were even the same person, and once they'd learned about the Dark Seed that had influenced his behaviour… well, it all seemed a little too harsh to hold him completely accountable for his actions back then (even if Ken continued to blame himself).

Still, there had been a time when Iori would not have been as driven as he was now, and that thought made him just a little sick to his stomach.

"What if we don't find them?" Miyako's voice cut through his thoughts, and he turned to look at her.

Miyako had a thumb to her teeth, absently chewing on her nail. "What if we run out of time?"

"Miyako-san?"

"I mean, this is really, really serious, right?" Miyako continued, even as she bent over bushes, parting branches, looking for any sign that something had been there.

"Miyako-san."

"And even if we find them, what if there's no antidote?" Her voice rose in pitch, wavering slightly, "Or what if we spend all this time, and we finally find it, but we get back and-"

"Miyako-san."

She flinched, and froze, as if finally hearing him. Slowly she turned toward Iori, and he saw her eyes fogged behind her large glasses, corners of her mouth wavering. Iori softened, releasing a tension he hadn't realized he'd been carrying in his shoulders.

"You're really worried about him, aren't you?"

Poromon came to land on Miyako's shoulder. Pressing her lips together, Miyako reached for her glasses and pulled them off so that she could rub at her eyes. "Well, I mean… it could have been any of us, ya know? I just never expected…"

Iori waited for her to finish, but she didn't.

"Miyako-san, are you crying?"

"No!" Miyako replied, almost too quickly, too sharply. Hastily, she pushed her glasses back onto her face. "I was just thinking, everything was fine yesterday, and this kind of thing can happen anytime, and now it has, and... And what if I never get a chance to tell him how I feel about him?"

Iori stared at her blankly. This was about a crush?

"I thought you were over him."

Miyako jumped, as if she hadn't realized she'd spoken that last part aloud.

"I was! I mean, I am. ...Maybe." she sighed "I dunno."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I thought I didn't like like him like that, like it was just a silly school girl crush, and it's different now that we're friends. But then this happens, and now I'm having second thoughts."

Iori just continued to stare at her. Miyako, something of a big-sister to him, was three years his senior, and she'd been crushing on boys for almost as long as he could remember. Iori, however, was a bit of a late bloomer, and only just beginning to notice some girls, and nothing to the extent of even Daisuke's old crush on Hikari when they were eleven. Girls still confused him.

"Is that really that important right now? I mean, he's our friend. You might feel worried like that if it was anyone else you knew, too." Iori averted his gaze. "Maybe you're only thinking about it because you think you may never get the chance. But, if there were a 'later', you may not feel that way at all."

Miyako averted her gaze, guilt plain on her face. "I guess you're right."

Without another word, both of them turned back to the task at hand. Upamon hopped about on the ground, looking for any signs down low that the humans may have missed. As the minutes passed, Iori's own guilt began to gnaw at him. He sighed.

"You should tell him."

"Huh?" Miyako glanced up.

"Ichijouji-san," he clarified. "When we get back, if you still are having second thoughts, you should tell him."

"Iori…"

"But, until we get back, don't get distracted by it," Iori added, giving her as stern a look as his youthful face could manage. "What he needs right now is for us to be focused. Because you're right…" he deflated, eyes drifting away. "We don't have a lot of time."

That was when the little digimon in Miyako's arms finally woke up.

"Hhck-!"

Daisuke cringed as he rubbed slow, awkward circles on his best friend's back. He could think of nothing else to do in this situation, and despite his assertion that he was the best choice to stay with Ken, he was feeling spectacularly useless right about that moment. Ken had dropped all semblance of pride and composure when, after roughly half an hour of Daisuke's well-meaning attempts at distraction, his insides finally succeeded in turning against him. Now, Ken leaned heavily against the tree trunk with one arm, the other wound tightly around his abdomen. His body clenched and heaved mercilessly, as it had for the last five minutes, though there was no longer anything left for his stomach to expel. Daisuke was shaken; he'd never seen anyone this sick before, and he'd certainly never seen Ken this way. He'd seen Ken terrified, he'd seen him broken and defeated, but nothing like this. And the sounds he was making? Daisuke could tell he was stifling them in one last ditch effort at dignity, but they almost made him sick as well.

Chicomon and Leafmon had stopped asking questions some time ago. Daisuke got the feeling they didn't entirely understand what was happening, just that something was very, very wrong. Leafmon seemed to have silently landed on the assumption that Ken was dying, and his eyes seemed almost perpetually filled with tears waiting to fall. Now, both he and Chicomon hovered to the side, and Chicomon had taken on the task of nuzzling up to Leafmon, as if to comfort his jogress partner.

After what felt like an eternity of torture, with one final sputtering cough it all seemed to pass. The tension in Ken's shoulders uncoiled, his energy utterly spent. He gulped the air as if it were water, and he were dying of thirst. Slowly, he straightened, eyes glassy and half-lidded. When it seemed safe, Daisuke held out the half-drained bottle of water he'd retrieved from his bag, the cap already removed.

"Here."

Ken eyed his offering warily, but slowly took the bottle, and lifted it to dry lips. Daisuke noted that the ghastly pallor of his skin clashed riotously with the flush of fever splashed across his cheeks, each making the other more pronounced. Slowly, hesitantly, Ken swallowed. Daisuke held his breath. Ken exhaled, and Daisuke relaxed, but it was short lived. Violet eyes snapped open as Ken jerked the bottle away from his mouth, replacing it with his hand as he gagged almost instantly. Water dribbled from his fingers as he coughed. Daisuke's stomach dropped.

He can't even keep water down? He thought. This is bad. Some part of him had hoped, maybe whatever toxin was making him sick would just work it's way through Ken's system, and he'd get better, and they wouldn't need any kind of medicine after all. He was starting to realize just how wrong he'd been. The guilt of not taking Miyako's suggestion of getting Ken to a hospital was like an anvil on his chest.

"Ok, ok… forget the water," said Daisuke, trying his best to sound positive. He gingerly took the bottle from Ken's hand, then screwed the cap back in place. "How bout you just lay down for a bit?"

Ken gave his head the very slightest of shakes, his fingers still hovering near his lips.

"No… no, I can't, it'll just…" he trailed off, placing his hand over his mouth again, as if in anticipation of more of the same.

Daisuke heard the waver in Ken's voice, and saw the fear in his eyes. It was like he was staring at eleven-year-old Ken again, staring down the darkness, wanting to scream. He was terrified. Suddenly, Daisuke's own fears didn't matter; all that mattered, was Ken. Instinctively, Daisuke dropped the bottle, grasping Ken's shoulders firmly with both hands.

"Hey. Just, focus on me, ok?" said Daisuke, setting his eyes on Ken's, willing him to look him in the face. "Listen, you're going to be fine. Everything's going to be fine," he said, trying to convince himself as much as Ken.

Gingerly, Daisuke lead him around the side of the tree. "You don't have to lay down, just… just sit with me, ok?"

Ken slowly lowered his hand, and tipped his chin in the subtlest of nods. Exhaling a sigh of relief, Daisuke pulled him close, then gently eased them both to the ground. Within minutes, he had them settled. Soon, their digimon had joined them, with Chicomon nuzzling up to Daisuke, and Leafmon sitting in Ken's lap. Mindlessly, Ken reached for his collar, loosening the buttons, as if he couldn't breathe with them fastened. Daisuke tried not to think about how accurate that might actually be. Eventually though, Ken relaxed, falling into a restless doze as he slumped against his friend, one hand resting on top of Leafmon. Soon, both digimon followed his example. For all intents and purposes, Daisuke was alone, and he heaved a rattling sigh. With his free arm, he reached to retrieve his D-terminal, flipped it open, and typed a quick email to Iori.

Daisuke was sure of just one thing, as he pressed the send button; if something happened, and Ken didn't recover, he was never going to forgive himself.

As it turned out, bringing that baby digimon with her may have been their greatest fortune. Once awake and able to talk to talk to them, they finally had a lead on their rogue digimon. Although they hadn't realized it immediately, the new tiny blob was a Motimon, and according to his own account, he had belonged to a small swarm of Kunemon and Dokunemon, and their higher evolutions. Over the last week every one of them had slowly begun to exhibit nasty behavior. It spread like an infection, gradually affecting all of them. "It's like they weren't themselves!" the baby digimon proclaimed "they didn't seem to even recognize each other. And then, once it got me… Well, I'm sorry for what happened."

"It sounds like your family could be the ones our friend ran into," said Miyako, as they continued through the wood, following the directions of their new companion. "If they do live in these woods, then that would explain why they just happened to be there when he came through, and why you weren't too far away from them."

Motimon nodded.

"So, if you're already virus types… becoming infected shouldn't have had that kind of reaction on you, should it?" Iori mused.

"We still don't really understand these things. We've been calling it a 'Virus', but maybe it's a different kind of data corruption, and the the two different types are in such conflict, it makes them go totally crazy," replied Miyako.

"Whatever it was, we'll need to talk to Gennai-san about it, after we get Ichijouji-san taken care of."

"And we can help your family, too!" cried Upamon.

"That's right! The same thing that cured you, can also cure them," added Poromon.

"We'll have to be careful though," Iori cautioned.

"Iori's right," said Miyako, the gravity of the situation settling in her stomach. "If they're affected like Motimon says, and that's how Ken-kun got attacked, we can't be sure they won't do the same to us."

"Motimon, about our friend…" Iori turned his attention to the digimon, who was still riding in Miyako's arms, "Is there any kind of remedy to counteract a Dokunemon's venom?"

"Hmmm…" he crossed his squishy little arms, and seemed to think deeply for a long moment. "Well, not exactly."

Miyako's heart sank, and her steps faltered. A cold dread washed over her. Iori stopped, and glanced back at Miyako.

"So… so we can't do anything at all?" she asked, her voice small.

The air was so tense you could have plucked it like the string of a guitar. Four pairs of eyes shifted back and forth between each other.

"No, no, I didn't say that," piped Motimon. "There's one thing you could try."

"What is it?" Upamon chirped

"Please tell us!" added Poromon. Miyako's grip on Motimon tightening reflexively, until he let out a little squeak. Cheeks flushed with embarrassed, Miyako loosened her grip, flashing him an apologetic look.

"Well, I don't know a lot about it. But there's this flower, it's called the Virala Lily. If you pluck it's petals and turn it into a tea, it makes a remedy that can cure any number of things! Poisoning, Paralysis, you name it!"

"And it really works?" Miyako asked, wanting desperately to believe, but hesitant to hope.

"Sure! At least, it's supposed to. Never had a use for it myself. Tons of Digimon want to make and sell the stuff! But that flower is pretty rare, and can be hard to find. I'm not even sure where it grows… but maybe Dokugumon does."

Miyako and Iori exchanged a glance. If Miyako had to guess, Iori was probably thinking the same thing she was. The whole thing sounded impossible, and perhaps too good to be true.

"Well… I guess we should get moving then!" said Miyako, scraping the bottom of her resolve and optimism.

"Yes! The sooner we get Motimon home, clear up the infection and talk to the others, the sooner we can start looking for the lily." Iori added.

With that, Motimon jumped from Miyako's arms. "We're not far now! Just follow me!" he said, taking a sharp left and leading them further into the woods.

The chosen and their digimon partners followed, Upamon and Poromon having placed themselves between Motimon and their human counterparts. Iori and Miyako took up the rear.

"Are we really chasing down a 'Magic Flower'?" Iori asked under his breath, "I can't believe our circumstances have come to something like this."

Miyako had to admit, It was equal parts promising, and suspicious.

"It's all we have to go on right now," she replied, though she didn't sound entirely convincing either.

"Do you think we can trust him?"

"I don't see why not," Miyako reasoned, "He seems genuinely grateful that we're helping him and his family. I don't think he'd have any reason to lie to us. If he's not telling us the truth, I think it's only because he doesn't know any better."

At that moment, Iori's D-terminal beeped. Without missing a step, he reached for the device and flipped it open. As his eyes scanned the screen, Miyako watched him anxiously, his already serious expression shifting a twinge darker.

"Well, I hope Motimon is right." said Iori.

"What does it say?" Miyako asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.

Instead of reading it to her, Iori simply held the device out for her to see. There, were five simple words, from Daisuke. As her eyes drifted over the lettering, her insides turned to ice.

He's getting worse. Please Hurry.

Without thinking, Miyako snatched the D-terminal from Iori's hands. Surprised by her sudden actions, Iori sputtered in protest as she began typing.

"Miyako-san, what're you-"

"I'm writing him back. They need to know what we found out."

"But we don't even know yet if it's real," replied Iori.

"We have to believe it is," said Miyako, her fingers flying furiously over the keys. "It has to be."

It just has to be.

"- A flower?"

Daisuke cradled his D-terminal in one hand, eyebrow raised quizzically, his other arm pinned to his side. Ken was too anxious to lie down, so instead he sat half slumped, with the whole of his weight against Daisuke's shoulder. Having his arm pressed between Ken and the tree was starting to send pins and needles through his fingers, but Daisuke dared not disturb him. Ken's sleep was restless, dark lashes fluttering over burning cheeks as he drifted in and out, his head shifting occasionally from one side, to the other.

Miyako's response sounded… Well it sounded like something out of a storybook, or a video game. Even so, it lit a spark of hope inside him. They had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. If it was real, they'd have exactly what they needed soon, and if not...

Ken's head lolled towards Daisuke, a soft murmur falling from his lips. With a flick of his wrist, Daisuke shut the terminal screen, set it aside, then gently reached to pull the sweaty fringe from Ken's eyes. His brow was pinched, his eyelids twitching.

The spark dimmed, replaced by a cold knot. As he stared down at his ill friend, Daisuke concluded that he had quite a bit to lose.

Author's Notes: So, I started writing what I THOUGHT was going to be Part 2 almost immediately after posting Part 1... only to realize the more I wrote that it really belonged in Part 3, so that caused some delays. This ended up being a bit shorter than Part 1, but it was either stop here, or make it exceptionally long.

I think I like to torture poor Ken a little too much, but things were bound to get worse before they got better. The good news is, while it took a while to crank out the REAL Part 2, it means Part 3 should be finished and posted sooner. :) Thanks for your patience, and thank you for reading!