Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Dissimilar ❯ (one) ( Prologue )

~~Warning and Disclaimer~~

The characters of digimon do not in any way belong to me. Sad, but true. I mess with their world, tho…too bad, eh? The story below is in a style I've not really used before. It's fun, so expect more. I think I'm going to make this fic a fic to fiddle with between fics. Something that makes no sense, because the characters aren't exactly sane and not exactly normal. I don't really have a plot yet…heh…

Just some Dai-ken kissin. Yay! Oh, rated a bit dark for kidnapping and stuff. Enjoy!

~Dissimilar~

~(one)~

I'm not like you.

Don't look me in the eye and tell me you don't care. I know you don't. No one ever cares about people like me. I'm the one you see in the back of the class, doodling on the test paper because I didn't bother to study. I'm the one who sneaks out of the classroom to smoke in the alleyways. I'm the one you forget right after the conversation, even if it's as little as 'hello'.

People like you don't say hello to people like me. I'm not like you. We're almost a different species, you and I.

You're still here? Good-I've caught some interest then. I've got a story to tell, and fuck you if you don't care. I'm telling it regardless of what you want. I've always done what I've wanted to do. I've got that sort of confidence, you see, and I could care less about what people think. That's another reason I'm so different.

I don't fit in. I'm not like you. I'm the loner in the back of the crowd, making snide remarks about the teacher, or the kid who's throwing spitballs and laughing at a private joke.

I could care less about people like you…

But then, it's not surprising to find all those declarations about being a loner and an individual fall short. I'm not like you, but that doesn't single me out-rather, it slides me neatly into another label, and instead of following the crowd and being part of something meaningless, I've found myself nothing more than the stereotype.

I hate stereotypes.

Are you bored yet? You might be, but then, you can't do anything about it, can you? No, you're taped to that chair. Shouldn't glare like that, either-you'll get wrinkles. I'd bet you'd be saying some colorful words if I let you talk-but then, that's what the tape is for, isn't it?

I hope it hurts when I pull it off. You're too pretty not to be hurt, you know. You've got the longest hair I've ever seen on a boy, and your face-god, lose the body and you'd be female.

I see I've touched a nerve. Don't like that, do you. Being called a girl, I mean. I bet you got called that all the time…kinda weird. Didn't you try to look more masculine, or was it just you didn't care? I don't, really-it's just that all the simple things you are, your hair, the eyes, the skin that's always flawless-all of that is like a puzzle and it makes you into this perfect beautiful boy.

Or girl, depending on the fantasy. I'd bet there a few jocks out there who wack off with your face in mind-

Are you trying to gnaw through the tape? Oh my god, I think you are! Hah, if that isn't amusing…

Too bad I tied you down, right? Wanna hit me and hurt me, I bet. Yeah, you've got a nice red blush going on…maybe I struck a little too close to home. You embarrassed at that thought, of guys jerkin off, or you excited?

Sometimes I wonder about you. It's the way you walk, and the little movements you make. You're too picky to be straight, you know. Maybe you're just bi.

You should calm down or I'll tape that little nose of yours shut too. Or put the tape in your hair and pull it off. I bet that'd shut you up.

I said you should stop glaring. You can't do anything anyway, you're tied to the chair, and you've got tape all over your mouth. Even if you could get up, you wouldn't get very far.

I've got the gun, remember?

I see you do-well, waving it in your face is a little much, but I've always been a braggart.

That's kinda what got me into this spot in the first place. I don't like people like you, and yes, that means I don't like you. I think you're cute, sure, but you piss me off. Too freaking nice. Don't you ever swear?

No, probably not. Your mom would have a seizure.

Anyway, before I get you all riled up with comments about how tight-assed you are, let's discuss something. You might think it's crazy, and that you think I'm out of my mind I have no doubt-but after all, you're tied up. You have no choice but to listen to me.

You're scared. Good. I'm scared too.

I'm not like you. You're not like me…but then, they did a good job of covering that up, didn't they? You fit in pretty well, but you're not like them either.

For being so different, we've got a lot in common.

Now listen up, Mr. Ken Ichijouji, and listen good.

You know my name, right? If you don't, even if you forgot, it's Daisuke. Daisuke Motomiya. You probably heard it somewhere, but then, we're not really friends. Passing rumors are all I end up as, usually.

Damn, you make the strangest noises. I guess you're trying to talk, but it's too soon to take the gag off. And stop trying to kick me, I'm sitting two feet away. Your legs are tied and you can't get near me. Hah on you, Ichijouji. Furious? Scared? Good. You should be.

You know, I keep trying to talk, and you're bouncing! Stop it!

…

Thanks. Sorry about the bruise, you left me no choice. I didn't want to hit you, but you're not listening.

I need you to listen.

Okay. Okay, here goes. My name's Daisuke Motomiya-and yes, I've said it already so shut up with those noises-and you-would you stop?!

I'm not going to kill you, you know. Stop looking at me like that; I know I've got you tied up and all, but that's because you won't listen if I don't. You're not listening now, you're just nodding because that's what they tell you to do when you're being held hostage. 'Do what he says, or you get hurt' and all that hunky-dory crap.

You listening now? You better be. I'm not going to repeat my name again. It's getting pointless, don't you think?

Anyways…like I was saying a few minutes ago, I'm not like you, you're not like me, yadda yadda. Here's the kicker.

I know what you are. I know what I am. And frankly…if I were you, I'd be pissed off.

You and I…

We're demons. Man-made demons. Born in a lab and given parents and a name and a history…but we're nothing but demons under it all. That's what the doctors call us, demons. It's because of what they make us into. You don't believe me, do you.

…I didn't think you would. You were raised to be the perfect child. You weren't the first one, and you won't be the last. There are quite a few of us scattered around the world, but most of them won't even realize what they are.

Not like me.

Most of them fit into society, and follow the rules. I'm a throwback, just like you. You fit in, too, but that's because you're a good actor. Think about it, Ichijouji. Think about everything you can do, and those people that your parents bring home to meet you. Think about all the times you get sick and have to see the doctor, the specialist, because it's more often a severe form of whatever…

You're not special, you're just…different.

Like me. But not like me. I managed to find this out all on my own…but that's only because my 'parents' were defective. They didn't like being saddled with a demon-boy, no matter how human I looked.

I killed them. They walked into my room with guns in their hands and I killed them.

I never really liked them anyway.

You believe me yet? Okay then, have some proof. On April 3rd you went to Japan's finest hospital with severe headaches and dizzy spells. You stayed there a month under the work of medicine so powerful you can't remember what happened.

I know, you shit, I was there. I saw you walking down the hallways and being led around like some zombie on crack-you had the widest grin and most innocent eyes then. You said hi to me in the hallway. I was a shy little brat back then who didn't know anyone or why he was in the hospital…and you said hi, and smiled in that dreamy way the crazy guys have. You didn't know anyone either, and the shit they had you jacked up on screwed your brain over. You did what they told you. Did what they said because you were too strong.

You've always been stronger.

Remember when Osamu died? Remember how empty and how angry you felt? How the world was crushing itself down around you…

They noticed it then. You went to the hospital a year later. You tried to live up to him, tried to be what he was, but you couldn't. You can't-you're not the same. He was a failed experiment-

Hey, you can try and scream all you want, but I've got proof. Here, look at these-I stole these from the hospital. It's got your brother's name on it, and the reason he died. Malfunction. Mal-func-tion. Want me to spell it for you?

Are you crying?

Are you crying?

Oh good god…Come on, it's not that bad…I'm not trying to make your brother sound like just a number-I mean, he was-but he was still your brother. I'm trying to make a point. Your brother died and it was because of a mistake they made. You tried to be more than what you were, and it woke something inside you too soon. You went to the hospital, and I saw you there, I remember you, and now you're here.

Are you still scared?

…

So am I. I don't know where I'm going with this whole kidnapping thing, and you might have something with the 'you're crazy' line. You don't even have to say that, I can see it in your eyes. But…

I found out what I wasn't supposed to know, and I don't want that happening to you. You're their prized demon, their greatest achievement so far! I'm still just a half-assed try-but I'm still alive. I'm still here, so to speak.

There's more if you're willing to listen…See, I've put the gun down. I know I've got your attention; you aren't looking at me like you were. You might even believe me, sorta, but I'm not going to untie you yet.

I can't. You'd probably kill me. Here, hey, don't flinch, I'm just going to take the gag away. You've got soft skin; it's weird, I've never touched such soft skin. And your hair is all tangled up and messy…

You're glaring at me, cheeks still wet and the area around your mouth red and sticky with the tape residue. Duct tape sucks, doesn't it? Hey, I was gentle, I know I was.

Be nice, now, or I'll bite you back.

And you might like it.

~~~

You know, you're even prettier when you're sleeping. Your eyes don't have that angry spark, and your face is all relaxed, but you're still cute.

If you were any less inclined to hurt me I'd consider untying you and convince you into spreading those pretty legs for me.

It strikes me as something you wouldn't do without a lot of conviction.

It's not that hard, though, to lean forward and trail a finger down the side of your face, against your blue-black hair. It's as silky as it looks, even after several hours. I think the only reason you're asleep now is exhaustion and stress-

I'm glad I remembered to call your mom and tell her you were at a friend's house for the night. That means I get you until tomorrow afternoon, because it's still a school day. Tomorrow I'm gonna call you in sick…and you know, even if you go home and tell someone, no one'd believe you.

You still don't believe me, but that's okay. You'll understand in time that there wasn't anything else I could do-I can't let them use you. I can't. Even if you're a prick right now, back in that hospital…

We're nothing but experiments. They mess with our DNA, call us freaks and give us wary looks because we're not human anymore. The doctors call us demons because we lose our inhibitions, our social skills. We get angry easily, we lose our tempers and break things. We're stronger than the average human now, and quicker. Agile-I've climbed things that make me look like I'm in a stunt ninja movie. They're using us like labrats and you don't believe me…

I've got to get you outta that fate, you know, no matter what it takes. I'm trying to protect you, don't you see? No, you're still asleep. You're not listening.

I find it's easy to run a hand over your skin, down your neck and along the edge of your collar. It looks annoyingly tight, so I take the liberty of unfastening it and pulling it open. You'd want to bite me if you knew how dirty my thoughts go at seeing your neck. I press a finger to the pulse. You'd definitely hurt me. Or something. You're such a prude about your body.

I should admit, at least, that part of the reason I brought you here was that I find you cute. Sure, I want you to know the truth-no one deserves to be put through what we go through in the name of science-but I find you cute. If that isn't enough to annoy me, I don't know what is. I don't like your attitude, but I'd still touch you. I'd do more than that…

I'd kiss you. I'd touch you and taste you, and I bet you'd taste like cream. You'd look divine spread out on the floor, all flushed and moaning.

Too bad you're sleeping.

Too bad I'm not like you, all proper and respective. I don't give a shit about rules.

I've wanted to do this for a long time, even after I found you in this school, stashed away as a secret. You're the entire reason I came here. I think there's something wrong with me. Something that draws us together. Something that breeds this obsession.

Maybe I just don't know. I don't know anything anymore. I want something so much it burns inside me, chokes me and leaves me drowning. I want something you have but I don't know what it is.

Because it's something inside of me, something that I know is wrong, something that burns at me and screams to stop-

But I don't. I can't. I couldn't ever ever stop, now that I know what's happening. Now that I know why…what I feel.

I think I love you, if this is what love feels like. Cold and hot at once, burning anxiety…I've watched you for a long time, waited and wondered if you even know the truth. I know you don't, I can see that you don't

I think I could love you too much. You could be my obsession.

You could be…so much…

I can never show you. It's not allowed. It's forbidden-I've got some people after me, I'm rogue to them, but all I seem to do is hover around you like a ghost, always unseen or forgotten or brushed aside. You never see me, not even during class. I burn around you, you know.

And I want it. I want you. I…

I need you. Love you, hate you and hate this, the way you make me feel…and I want is more.

Can you give me more?

Would you?

Would you give me what I want, just once? Only once?

Never?

It makes me wonder what you would do if I touched you again. If I smiled at you. Would you smile back?

I don't think so.

What would you do if I kissed you? If I tasted those lips and touched your tongue with mine? If I untied you, pulled you out of those clothes and fucked you? If I told you I loved you?

Would you let me touch you?

Would you want me to?

Maybe that's why, as your eyes flutter when my hands cup your face, I only smile at you. Good, you're awake. I'd rather have you conscious for this, you know.

You're scared again, I can tell.

Don't worry, I'll let you go soon. I can't keep you tied down forever, and even if I were to indulge this lust, it'd be too easy for you to get away.

I can't let them use you anymore, Ken. That's why I'm gonna do everything I can to stop them…that's why I had to tell you, at least. You won't believe me, you'll just think I'm some psychotic paranoid schizo or something…

…you taste like everything in my dreams and so unexpected…

You don't kiss me back, and that's okay. I've gotta go. Time's running out. You'll be able to get away-here, see-the knife? I'm leaving it within your reach. You're on a computer-chair for godsakes-you can roll to it.

Tip yourself over and cut yourself free. By that time I'll be outta sight.

But I'll be around if you need me…

Watch out for the doctors, okay?

They'll fuck with you.

(tbc, perhaps…)