Viral; adjective
a corrupting influence on morals or the intellect; poison.
Of all the things Daisuke had ever imagined coming from Ken, especially in that moment, this was not one of them. Hands on his face, thin fingers in his hair, so close that Ken was all that filled his senses. It wasn't that he'd never been this close to his best friend before, but something about the way he was looking him straight in the eye, the tone in his voice when Ken said his name, Daisuke's heart leapt like a bullfrog into his throat, and there it stuck. Suddenly, there was no distance between them at all. It was clumsy (a word not often used to describe Ken Ichijouji) and a wonder that their noses didn't collide in the process. For a moment, Daisuke was frozen, his whole body rigid in response to the burning sensation of Ken's feverish lips against his own. He was Fourteen, and he was confused, because his best friend was cradling his face in his hands, kissinghim with all the finesse of a toaster oven… and he didn't hate it.
He didn't hate it. It was… weird. It was unexpected, and given the situation, maybe inappropriate, or at least poorly timed. But after the initial shock wore off, and the bullfrog deflated, Daisuke found himself weirdly drawn into the whole thing, his hands moving of their own volition to run gloved fingers through Ken's hair.
What the hell are we doing?
He shifted his fingers, and forgot to breathe through his nose. Their lips parted, and air rushed in. Daisuke was still reeling, trying to reconcile what had just happened as Ken tried to speak…
Then, Ken swooned. It wasn't that over-dramatic and romantic way that Daisuke had seen in his sister's favorite TV Dramas. Ken was quite literally breathless, his unfocused gaze betraying a distant tinge of alarm before his lids fluttered, eyes rolling back. The fog and fluttering inside Daisuke's chest instantly cleared, replaced by ice and unprecedented panic.
"Ken-chan!" Minomon cried, as Ken slumped forward into Daisuke's shoulder.
"Shit- No, no, no," muttered Daisuke, frantically taking Ken's face in his hands.
Ken's jaw hung slack, his eyelids mostly shut. Falling asleep was one thing, but this? Daisuke had enough sense to know that this was not normal. People weren't supposed to just pass out!
"C'mon Ken, wake up," he pleaded, squishing his face, desperately patting his cheek. His efforts did nothing to rouse his friend. His eyelids fluttered, his throat moved, but no sound came from his mouth. With shaking hands and wide eyes, Daisuke lowered Ken to the ground. Frantically, Daisuke ripped the gloves from his hands, his fingers flying out to feel along Ken's throat.
"Daisuke, what's wrong?!" it was Chibimon this time, fully awake now, pressed up against Minomon.
Big tears were falling silently from the Larva Digimon's eyes, but Daisuke barely noticed them, his attention singularly focused on Ken. He could hear his own heart pounding fiercely in his ears, the rattling of his own rapid breathing, and little else. Finally, his fingers found a pulse. The sensation was thready, like the twitching of butterfly wings beneath his touch. Daisuke felt his chest constrict.
"T-this… this is my fault," Daisuke mumbled to himself. "I shouldn't have let him move around so much, I should've kept him calm."
Daisuke grasped Ken's shoulders, shaking him gently, slapping his face, anything to get him to come around. Ken's lips moved soundlessly as he strained for breath, but nothing else. His chest did not rise and fall in the way it should have. It took every ounce of Daisuke's willpower not to become hysterical… and he was losing that fight. Pressing a fist to his forehead, Daisuke clenched his eyes shut.
"Ken. Please. Please, open your eyes…" he croaked.
He sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. He could feel a burning beneath his eyelids. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help you. I'm so useless."
The silence that followed was deafening. Chibimon and Minomon gazed at their human partners, distressed, but frozen. Wordlessly, Daisuke grasped Ken's hand in his, squeezing as if he thought he could physically hold Ken's life in his body. Then, his other arm reached out, fiercely drawing Ken up against his chest. Hot tears slid out of Daisuke's eyes, leaving trails down his face.
"Stay with me," he hissed into Ken's hair. "I refuse to lose you to this. Don't you dare give up on me."
When the sound of his name drifted across the air, Daisuke almost didn't hear it. When it called a second time, faint and distant, he thought he imagined it. When it came a third time, there was no mistaking it.
"Daisuke, look!" Chibimon cried, pointing his tiny little arm toward the sky.
Daisuke's gaze followed the gesture. There on the horizon, nearly blotting out the setting sun, was the distinct silhouette of Aquilamon. As he drew closer, The figures of Miyako, Iori, and Armadimon came into focus. Daisuke felt his heart give a lurch of hope as the giant horned bird descended from the sky. Barely had his talons touched the ground, and there was Miyako, alighting from his back, carefully cradling what Daisuke would have sworn was an old ceramic sake pitcher. She wasted no time in dashing across the grass, Iori and Armadimon lagging further behind.
"Daisuke!" she called again, eyes burning with equal parts intense hope and exhaustion as she held the vessel aloft, "we've got it!"
As she drew closer though, her eyes landed on the still form in Daisuke's arms, and her expression sobered. Ken looked so small and fragile, a stark contrast to when they had last seen him only a few hours earlier. Daisuke watched the elation in her eyes vanish, replaced with a feeling that Daisuke recognized all too well; fear.
"Is he-"
"He passed out," Daisuke replied quickly, trying for all the world to look like he hadn't been crying just a minute ago. "Just, all of a sudden. I can't get him to come around, and he's barely breathing."
Miyako dropped to her knees beside the boys. "Then how are we supposed to get him to drink this?" she wondered aloud, the new wave of panic beginning to seep into her voice.
"Try pouring some of it into his mouth anyway." Both Daisuke and Miyako looked up as Iori approached, breathing heavily from his dash to catch up with them. "We can't waste time. We'll have to hope he swallows it reflexively."
Nodding solemnly, Miyako pressed the lip of the pitcher against Ken's slacked mouth. As Daisuke supported him from behind, Miyako tilted the vessel. Lukewarm blue liquid sloshed from the ceramic, only to dribble from the corner of his mouth.
"It's not working," she fretted.
"Tilt his head back a little," Iori suggested, and Daisuke complied.
Miyako gnawed anxiously on her bottom lip, and then grasped Ken's chin in her free hand. Daisuke felt his heart hammering in his throat as he watched Miyako's second attempt. They couldn't afford to waste any of the remedy, but neither could they afford to waste time. This time, it went down, but instead of swallowing, Ken's body jerked violently with a choking cough, his head lashing to the side. Miyako jumped back as blue fluid dripped from his lips, his eyes slowly fluttering open.
"Hey, I think he's coming to!" cried Iori.
"Ken-kun, look at me," said Miyako, gently grasping his jaw again. "I need you to drink this, ok?"
Dull, half-lidded eyes shifted aimlessly. Whether or not he really heard them, they couldn't be sure. Miyako pinched his chin, wordlessly demanding his focus. Daisuke's grip on Ken tightened reflexively, anticipating more thrashing. For the third time, Miyako pressed the mouth of the pitcher to Ken's lips, her brow creased in determination. Slowly, hesitantly, she poured. This time, much to their collective relief, Ken swallowed. His eyelids twitched, slipping down over violet irises, the occasional weak protest rising from his throat as he swallowed what Daisuke could only assume from the smell, was a foul-tasting brew.
"How much of it is he supposed to take?" Daisuke asked.
"I dunno. They didn't tell us that. But I'd say as much as we can get him to swallow," Miyako replied, her eyes never straying from Ken's face.
After what seemed like hours, the vessel was drained, with only a few stray tracks of blue running down Ken's pale chin. He gasped for breath and choked on the soft groan that worked it's way from his throat. Gentle as she could be, Miyako released his jaw, allowing his head to roll against Daisuke's shoulder. For a long moment, all gathered were quiet as Ken seemed to relax, somehow more peaceful after the whole ordeal was over. If he had truly been conscious before, the moment had passed. In the end, it was Daisuke who broke the silence.
"So, now what?" he asked softly, his voice catching in his throat.
"Now…" Iori exhaled a sigh, "Now, we wait."
The world came back to Ken in a slow wash of sensation. First, the sound of crickets and the comfortable chill of evening against his closed eyes. Next, the feel of something warm pressed up against his side, a gentle but familiar weight on his chest. As if waking from a long dream, Ken slowly dared to open his eyes. Darkness loomed overhead, dotted with pinpoints of light peeking through leaves and branches. As his head rolled to the side, his unfocused eyes caught the dim glow of a dancing fire, the shadows of three figures huddled around it. The sound of hushed voices mixed with the crickets. Slowly, he lifted his left arm. His sleeve had been rolled up past the elbow, the once garish wound in is forearm covered and wrapped in a white bandage. The pain was almost nonexistent. His brow crinkled as he mentally reconciled the difference between how it felt, and how he remembered it. Somehow, it didn't add up. How had it gotten bandaged? When had the sun gone down? He couldn't remember any of it. Shifting ever so slightly, pulling himself up on his elbows, Ken found the source of the warmth beside him. Wormmon was coiled up between his arm and his ribs, head nestled atop his chest. A smile pulled at his lips as Ken raised a hand to stroke his partner between the antennae on his head.
"Wormmon," he breathed, a light and reassuring feeling washing over him.
Antennae twitched reflexively, and wide blue eyes opened, inches from Ken's face.
"Ken-chan?" Wormmon whispered, halfway between sleep and awake. The grogginess quickly dissolved, and Wormmon jumped. "Ken-chan! You're awake!"
The sound of Wormmon's delighted cries drew the attention of the figures around the fire. Big tears welled up in the digimon's eyes, rolling down his little cheeks as he nuzzled against Ken's face. Ken just smiled warmly, drawing Wormmon closer.
"Mm… I'm sorry I worried you." he whispered to his partner.
What followed was a cacophony of familiar voices calling his name, and a disorienting number of arms wrapped around him. Hair in his face, in his ears, squeaks of elated humans and squished Digimon.
"Hey- you guys," Ken croaked, voice soft but laced with joy, "you're squeezing too hard."
It was like someone had pulled a trigger, and everyone released him at once. The air rushed back into his lungs in a way that was so normal, so easily taken for granted. Finally able to take it all in, Ken fully sat up and looked around at the crowd assembled. Aside from Wormmon, Daisuke and Miyako were the closest, obviously the ones who had been affectionately wringing the life out of him, their faces plastered with teary smiles. Then there was Vmon, draped on Daisuke and clinging to his head. Hawkmon hovered just beyond Miyako's shoulder, and then further back, standing near Ken's feet were Armadimon and Iori, the firelight casting shadows that danced across his exhausted but relieved expression.
"You had us so scared," Miyako whined, scrubbing at her wet cheeks with the heel of her hand.
"We weren't sure you were gonna come out of it." Daisuke added, and before Ken realized it, he found gloved fingers wrapped around his free hand.
Ken's face fell into an expression of pure guilt, his eyes shifting down into his lap. "I'm sorry," he murmured, truly feeling the weight of shame on his chest.
"We're just glad to see you awake!" cried Daisuke, unable to mask the elation in his voice.
"You looked pretty bad when we got back. We didn't know if we'd made it in time," Iori added softly.
Ken glanced up again. Now that Iori mentioned it, the last Ken could remember, the two of them had not returned, and the sun was still in the sky. Now, they were all together again, the digimon had all returned to their child forms, and he found there was a large gap in his memory.
"I feel fine now. Better than fine … How?" asked Ken, fingers brushing his temples as if he could force himself to conjure the memories.
"That boiled flower stuff actually worked. Miyako barely got you to drink it before you completely blacked out on us, and that was a couple hours ago."
Daisuke's recount of events did little to aid in Ken's recollections. He remembered the taste of something tepid and bitter on his tongue, sliding down his throat. He remembered choking, and gasping, smothering heat, and a grasp on reality so weak that he felt he was clawing his way out of a dark hole, only to fall back in again. There were other things too, like sand, the sound of the ocean, and feverish lips… but he couldn't be sure how much of it was real, and how much of it he'd merely dreamed. How delirious had he been?
Ken duly shook his head, as if to clear the vague images polluting his mind. He lifted his gaze and looked at Miyako. It was a bit embarrassing in hindsight, to think of someone practically force-feeding him medicine, and his cheeks colored at the thought. Still, Ken knew well enough that his pride didn't matter - he should be, and was, incredibly grateful. He wanted to thank them, but when he opened his mouth, no sound immediately came out. Words seemed inadequate.
"We used the same plant to make a poultice for your arm," Miyako began, as if trying to save him from his own awkwardness. She gestured to the bandages, for emphasis. "It's basically a medicinal paste. We figured, it couldn't hurt."
"Ah, Mm…" Ken murmured, turning his arm over. "It does feel much better."
Miyako seemed quite proud of herself, a wide grin splitting her face.
"Really, I owe all of you so much," Ken began, turning to look at each of them in turn. "Thank You just doesn't seem like enough."
"You'd do the same for any of us."
With that, Miyako rose to her feet.
"If you're really feeling better, we should all head home! My mom is probably going to tear my head off for not telling her I was going to be late," she said good naturedly, stretching her arms over her head.
"I hope my mom and grandpa aren't too upset…" Iori added.
"Eh, it's not like they don't know we come out here," said Daisuke dismissively. "I think at this point I've gotten in trouble so much for staying out late, my parents stopped caring."
They all laughed. Well, all except Ken, who just gave him a knowing smile. He knew he was likely going to be dealing with a frantic mother when he called home, but she had been a bit more understanding over the years.
Just like that, they were all moving again, as if nothing had ever happened. Armadimon and Iori were pushing dirt and sand on the fire to snuff it out, while Miyako set about returning the clearing to the state they'd found it it in. Daisuke released his grip on Ken's hand, and Ken felt the absence quite deeply. It didn't last long. Once on his feet, Daisuke extended his hand again and Ken took hold without a second thought. Arm braced, using Daisuke as his anchor, Ken was on his feet with less help than he'd expected to need. His hand lingered as he looked into Daisuke's face in the dying firelight. Ken was so caught up in watching the shadows playing over Daisuke's cheeks that he didn't see Miyako looking back, watching them.
Miyako was standing quite still, clutching her bag so tightly that her knuckles turned white. The last of the flames flickered in the lenses of her glasses as she watched the boys. No one gave her enough credit, but Miyako was far from unobservant. She watched the way their hands lingered, the gentle, vague expression on Ken's face, and the all too familiar light in Daisuke's eyes.
"Miyako-san?" Iori's quiet voice queried over the whispers of smoke from the dying fire.
She turned at the sound of her name, exchanging a glance with Iori. He looked at her, then sidelong to where Ken and Daisuke stood. It took only a moment for her to catch his meaning. She shook her head.
"I don't think now's a good time," she said, an oddly knowing, melancholy tone in her voice as she turned her attention back to the boys.
Not one to push, Iori let it drop. It was none of his business to begin with.
When Iori turned to follow Miyako's gaze again, Ken and Daisuke were slipping off through the trees, Daisuke leading Ken by the hand. Iori paused.
"Where are they going?" he wondered aloud.
"Just let them be."
Iori looked back at Miyako, confusion creasing his brow. He really would never understand girls.
"What is it you wanted to talk about?"
Satisfied that they were far enough removed to afford them some privacy, Daisuke turned back to look at a confused Ken. "Do you wanna stay at my place tonight?"
"Huh?"
"I just mean…" Daisuke reached to rub the back of his neck, "Well, it's been a long day… didn't know if you'd want to rush home after all … this."
God that sounds so dumb. He thought to himself.
No matter how dumb Daisuke could be though, Ken never seemed to mind. He sighed softly.
"You may have a good point…. I'd really rather not tell my mother the truth either, she doesn't need the stress. And if I have to cover it up, she may be less angry if she thinks I just lost track of time playing video games."
A quick glance down at his arm reminded Ken that his jacket, and shirt, were both ruined. "I'm going to have a hard enough time explaining that I ruined my clothes."
"Seriously? Your mom's so sweet, you really think she's gonna care about a ripped shirt?" Daisuke asked, craning his head to the side.
"A ripped shirt, and a torn and stained uniform jacket," Ken clarified, as if it made a difference.
Their eyes met, and they laughed. Tears of mirth filled Daisuke's eyes and Ken's shoulders shook with silent laughter. The whole thing was rather ridiculous, when compared to the rest of their day. It all seemed so surreal now, as if they'd all just had one giant shared nightmare, and they had finally woken. As Daisuke reached to rub his eyes, he was struck with complete clarity of exactly one thing; he was still holding Ken's hand.
Ken seemed to notice at exactly the same time. The laughter died, replaced by the soft but deafening sound of crickets. Perhaps a bit too obviously, Daisuke let go.
Was this weird now? It's not like they'd never held hands before. But now that everything had worked itself out, all the terror and impending doom passed, Daisuke found himself thinking back to that moment before Ken had collapsed in his arms. He thought about the tone in his voice, the flush in his cheeks, the sound of his name in Ken's voice. He thought about the way Ken had forced the space between them to disappear, and the way he'd reciprocated. A quick glance up, and to Daisuke's eyes Ken looked bewildered. Daisuke paused, before tucking both of his hands into his pockets.
"Listen… about before..."
Dark eyes peered back at him from the shadows. "Before?"
His heart sank. Doesn't he remember?
Of course not. What had he expected? Ken had been suffering from a raging fever for hours, it should have been surprising if he wasn't a little delirious. Somehow, It bothered him a little more than it should have. He'd been so confused about it before, shouldn't he have been happy to pretend as if it had never happened?
But… it had been his first kiss, after all.
Daisuke shook his head, clearing his thoughts. "Ya know what, nevermind, it's not important."
But his feet couldn't take him away from the moment fast enough. "C'mon, we should catch up with the others."
Ken's hand caught his elbow as he passed.
"Daisuke."
He froze, heart hammering like a war drum in his chest. Turning over his shoulder, he smiled at Ken.
"So, you remember that much at least."
Startled, Ken abruptly released him. Color blossomed over his cheeks as he withdrew into himself. As he'd done since the day he'd decided that Ken was going to be a part of their team, Daisuke reached out. Quietly, he grasped Ken's hand, giving it a squeeze, and a gentle tug.
"Let's go home."
EPILOGUE:
Ken remembered everything. Although he'd woken in a fog of fragmented memories, eventually it had all coalesced into something coherent and vivid. He couldn't sleep. Wormmon was nestled up on the futon beside him, truly peaceful for the first time in hours. Ken had nearly memorized the surface of the ceiling in Daisuke's bedroom, the soft sound of snoring a comforting ambiance in the otherwise dark silence of midnight. In the practical sense, he was alone with his thoughts.
Sighing softly, Ken turned onto his side, facing Daisuke's bed. White goggles dangled from the corner of the headboard. As his eyes adjusted, he could make out the distinct lump beneath the covers, the tufts of messy hair protruding where comforter and pillow met.
Daisuke had always gone above and beyond, for his sake. He forced Ken out of his self-imposed isolation, and he pulled him into the fold with the rest of the chosen children. He'd given him a chance, had faith in him when no one else had. They had always seen each other for what they truly were, even when they had stood on opposite sides of the battle field. If the rest of the chosen found their closeness odd, no one dared say a word on the matter. Daisuke wasn't everything to Ken, but he was certainly a lot of things. Friend. Confidant. Partner. In Ken's eyes, no one had a bigger heart than Daisuke Motomiya. There was so much compassion in him that Ken sometimes thought he could drown in it.
Sometimes, he didn't think he deserved even a fraction of what Daisuke gave him.
Ken pressed his knuckles against his lips, and closed his eyes. He knew that back in the digital work, Daisuke had wanted to ask him what that kiss had meant. He could think of an endless list of excuses for it, but none of them would have been true.
The truth was, the fever had only broken down the wall of his inhibitions. His deepest, most well-hidden feelings overflowed like a river in a hurricane. In that moment, all he had known was the sad look in Daisuke's eyes, and the deepest desire to prove to him just how important he was. He remembered the overwhelming urge to touch his best friend, to negate the space between them.
I went too far, he thought to himself. A sinking feeling filled his chest.
He could never let Daisuke know, that he remembered everything. That some part of him had wanted to say those things for a long time. That the reason he could never call Daisuke by his given name was some unidentified fear that if anyone heard him utter those syllables, they'd somehow hear it in his voice, and know exactly how he felt.
Never mind that Ken himself still wasn't entirely sure how to put these feelings into word.
Nestling deeper into his pillow, Ken slowly opened his eyes again. When he did, he was surprised to find Daisuke lying on his side, eyes open and staring back at him in the darkness.
"Having trouble sleeping?" he asked softly, so as not to wake their digimon partners.
Ken stared back at him, but slowly nodded.
Much to his further surprise, Daisuke inched back on his bed, lifting the comforter.
"Why don't you come up here?"
Ken could almost feel the color drain from his face.
"I- I'm not a child," Ken sputtered indignantly, shrinking under his own bedding. "I don't need to be coddled just because I have insomnia."
"I never said you did," Daisuke countered, rolling his eyes, still holding back the blankets. "Just get up here, you idiot."
Something in the back of Ken's mind screamed that this was extremely inappropriate. They weren't kids anymore, and even when they were, they'd never shared a bed. Still, his body seemed to move without his permission. Slowly, he peeled back his blankets, careful not to disturb Wormmon as he set his feet softly on the carpet. He stood at the side of the bed for what felt like the longest five seconds of his life before sitting down on the edge.
"C'mon man, I don't bite," said Daisuke.
"I'm not so sure about that," Ken replied with a smirk.
Impatience won over and Daisuke sat up, reaching an arm around his best friend and pulling them both down to the mattress. Without so much as missing a beat, Daisuke yanked the comforter up around them, the soft warmth settling over them. Daisuke's bed was small, not really made to hold two teenaged boys, so Ken sheepishly settled himself on the outer edge, facing away from Daisuke. Still, he could feel the warmth of his best friend beside him, and he pressed his face into the pillow to hide the flush that crept it's way up his neck.
He stopped moving when he felt Daisuke's arms wrap around him, pulling him back toward the center of the bed as his nose pressed into Ken's shoulder.
"...Daisuke?" Ken croaked, the sensation conjuring up memories of fever dreams.
"You really scared me today."
The room felt suddenly cold. Daisuke continued.
"I thought… I might actually lose you. I don't think I've ever been that scared in my whole life."
Ken's restraint dissolved like sugar in hot tea. He folded his arms over top of Daisuke's, finally taking comfort in the closeness. He knew, they'd never speak of this again. The sun would rise, and it would be as if none of it had ever happened. Ken would go on pretending he didn't remember their kiss, and knowing Daisuke, he'd probably believe him. Ken would bury those strangely intense feelings for his best friend, the only hint being the special reverence he showed every time he said his name. They'd be normal.
At least, as normal as they had ever been.
"Me too," Ken whispered, squeezing Daisuke's hand. "But it's ok now. I'll stay."
And that would have to be enough.
Authors Notes: And with that, "Viral" is Complete. I don't know that it's my best work, but it scratched the itch I had, and I'm hoping you guys enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I tried to leave things as 'untouched' at the end as I possibly could, to allow for any further events in Tri (that we haven't seen yet) to not completely contradict this little piece. Please leave me reviews if you enjoyed it, or reviews if there's anything you didn't like! I'll be writing more Digimon fic in the future (I've already started on a new project) so be on the look-out!