Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ For They Shall Be Filled ❯ Lightening Crashes ( Chapter 16 )

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For They Shall Be Filled

The future is only a reaction to the past.

By: Vain 5/31/2001-1/26/2002

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I do not own Digimon, Ichijouji Ken, the Digidestined, or the Digital World, nor am I making any money off of this. Kazunori, Sanghee, the Golden Triangle, the Revelationas Arch, all its OC's and original concepts all belong to me.

Please DO NOT use or "borrow" them without my written permission.

Special Thanks goes to Herongale and the Guardian for betaing and thank you's are extended to everyone who reviewed on FF.net, especially Athena, ShinniJekka, KA, Pan-chan, Crew of the Clow, Mink, and Soulfull Ishida.

Because of the FF.net situation, this story will be posted here gradually. The entire fic and its sequel can be found here: http://www.fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=91738

Thank you and please read and review.

~ Vain

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~"A voice was heard in Ramah, lamentation, weeping, and great mourning,

Rachel weeping for her children, refusing to be comforted,

for they were no more."

-Matthew 2: 18

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Chapter Sixteen

Lightening Crashes

Rika Ichijouji was terrified. She had reached a fear beyond tears, beyond words, beyond reaction. The only thing she was capable of doing at that moment was breathing, and she wasn't even managing that right now. At least, that's how it looked to Wormmon.

The rookie digimon stared out of the Ken's cracked bedroom door and watched Mrs. Ichijouji pace frantically.

Ken had told his mother that he would be home late after soccer practice, but he had never said how late. Now, it was nearly 8:30, the sun had set, it was pouring outside, and Mrs. Ichijouji was thirty seconds from a full-blown panic attack.

Ken's father walked up behind her and gently rubbed her arms. The man's voice was soft and soothing, barely detectable to Wormmon's sensitive hearing. "It'll be alright, honey. Ken's a very bright boy. I'm sure he's fine. He just lost track of the time, that's all."

Mrs. Ichijouji pulled away violently and crossed her arms over her chest. She went to stare at the driving rain through the window, her voice shrill with tears and cracked with pain. "But what if he's not fine, Tsuyoshi?! What if he's been kidnapped or, even worse, run away again? We don't even know what happened to him the first time, and now . . . He might not come back this time. I can't deal with this again! I cannot lose another son!"

Wormmon sighed and closed the door softly. His magenta-tipped feet clicked quietly as he crawled up Ken's bed. Once on top, he curled up in the center of the bed and turned doleful eyes to the door to await his master's return.

No . . . not master. Ken now, he corrected himself. Just Ken-chan. The caterpillar digimon closed his eyes wearily and fought sleep. Ken would need him when he returned and Wormmon refused to let his partner down.

After practice, the two of them had went directly to the Digital World for the meeting with Kari and from there Ken had told Wormmon to return home while he went for a walk.

"I just need to clear my head," he had explained to his partner with one of those fake smiles that made Wormmon's skin crawl beneath his carapace.

"But it's raining out."

"I know. Don't worry, my friend. I just need to blow off some steam."

"Today was a bad day, wasn't it?"

"There's no such thing as a bad day, Wormmon. We are the only ones who control our fate."

Wormmon never should have left him. But that was how trouble always started, wasn't it? Ken decided to do something, Wormmon protested, and Ken smiled and did what he was going to do anyway. " . . . Please be careful, Ken."

"Ken-chan . . ." Wormmon burrowed deeper into the covers. He absolutely hated to be separated from Ken. It always felt like half of him had been ripped away. Ever since Ken's first trip to the Digital World over five years ago, there had only been three incidences in which the two of them had been separated for longer than 24 hours. The first was after Ken's very first trip when Sam took his digivice, the second was right after Ryou disappeared-when Ken returned, his Digivice was pitch black and he had gained that empty smile, the third and final time was when Wormmon died.

But now all that's over and Ken's going to okay, the little creature thought tiredly. Ken's going to be fine. He has his Crest and those other humans, Davis and the others, can make him forget about all the nasty stuff so he'll stop hating everything. And now he loves me again. He's kind to me again, the way he was before Ryou left and Osamu died-I think he even likes the Davis and TK kids. The little digimon's eyes fluttered shut in contentment as sleep crept upon him.

The door slammed shut loudly, startling Wormmon awake. He uncurled and worked his ten legs rapidly to escape the sea of covers and reach the edge of the elevated bed. Curled into a small ball to absorb the shock, he landed on the floor with a thud and rolled towards the door. He opened it a crack and stuck his small green head out eagerly.

Ken had come home.

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After the door slammed, Rika Ichijouji whirled around to see her youngest child-her only child-taking off his shoes with the quiet dignity that he carried with him everywhere.

She felt Tsu's presence behind her as his voice rumbled out of his chest. "Where have you been, young man? Your mother and I were worried sick!" Ken took off his left shoe and didn't look up. Tsu seemed to get even more upset. "Answer me, Ken! What is wrong with y-"

He choked on the words as their son raised his eyes to face them. Ken looked like he had just walked off a battlefield. Water dripping from his clothing was quickly pooling on the floor. His normally bright eyes were dull and his hair clung to his skull. The thin, pale skin that made him the rage of preteen girls everywhere was nearly translucent and there was an unsettlingly listless expression on his face.

Rika took a hesitant step forward. "Ken? Honey?"

The boy turned dead eyes to her. "Sorry to worry you, Mother. Father. I'm afraid I lost track of the time."

"I . . . Are you alright, dear?"

"I'm fine, Mother; it's just been a long day."

He began to walk towards them with steady steps. A chill seemed to fill the air as he slipped past his mother. She followed him with her eyes for a moment before gently reaching out and touching one of his wet arms. "Someone named TK called for you. He said that the trip was set for tomorrow and that his mother would pick you up. Is this TK a . . . friend of yours, honey?"

Ken nodded wearily. "Yes."

"Wait a minute," Tsu interrupted sternly. "What are you doing tomorrow? It's the Anniversary."

"I know, but Mother said that-"

"Rika, did you give him permission to go out on the Anniversary?"

"Father, it's just a camping trip and-"

"I was talking to your Mother, Ken." Tsuyoshi turned his hard brown eyes to his wife. "Well?"

Rika put her hands on her hips. "Let the boy have a break, Tsu. Ken needs a chance to relax and this long weekend is the perfect time. He doesn't have any games, tests, tournaments, or interviews. When else could he get away?"

Ken attempted to slip past his father, but Tsuyoshi wouldn't stand for it. A muscular arm extended to the wall, level with Ken's chest. Brown eyes turned to blue-violet and the two vied for dominance. Tsu's voice was firm and uncompromising. "You are not going."

The blue-violet eyes widened. "How dare you! You can't just do that to me!"

The older man blinked in surprise. Ken had never, ever spoken to anyone that way, let alone his parents. He had never heard so much . . . passion, so much rage, in his son's voice. If this was the effect of such "friends" on the quiet young man, then he was definitely not going. "That settles it," the businessman declared over his wife's protest. "You are not going. Tomorrow is Osamu's Anniversary. We all have to go down to the cemetery and see him-"

"Why does it matter?" demanded Ken, his temper slipping once more. "We go every year and every year things remain the same. Nothing will ever change; move on, already!"

Tsu went rigid. "Go to your room, Ken."

Rika's eyes darted between her husband and her son. Tsuyoshi never spoke in that tone of voice. Never. "Tsu . . ."

Ken's eyes flared. "Why can't you let him go?"

"Ken . . . I said go to your room."

"Osamu is DEAD and he's not coming back! Accept that!"

There are some things in life which everyone can see coming, but no one can stop. The crash of the New York Stock Exchange in 1929 was one of those things. World War Two was one of those things. The arch Tsuyoshi Ichijouji's open hand made towards his son's face was also one of those things. Rika saw it, Ken saw it, and even Tsu saw it, but no one could stop it from reaching its destination. No one could even tell when it had begun. But suddenly it connected, violently snapping Ken's head back with an angry crack and slamming the boy into the wall. There was a loud "WHUFF!" as the air burst from Ken's lips and he lay crumpled on the floor for an instant, stunned.

There was a full minute of stillness during which nobody moved. Then, with an incredibly slow motion, Ken raised two fingers to touch his lower lip. He pulled them away just as slowly, holding them out in front of him to see blood glittering apple red in the hall light. He stared at them without comprehension, barely registering the hot copper flavor in his mouth. His mother made a small sound like a wounded animal and her hands flew over her mouth.

Ken's father was watching him with wide eyes, hand upraised, and body frozen in time. He had never struck a child before, let alone his child. "Ken-my God-I . . . Ken-"

Hearing his name seemed to startle the boy out of his funk. He pressed the hand with the bloodied fingers against the wall and pushed himself up, leaving a red smear on the white paint to mark his passing. He hit me . . . He staggered a bit, pushing himself past his still shocked father. He hit me . . . Ken's body was operating on autopilot and he locked the door to his bedroom. He didn't even see Wormmon scrambling to get out of his way as he set up one of his nastier booby traps. My father hit me . . .

Then the shock faded and Ken wrapped his arms tightly around his body, collapsing on the floor in a heap. He rocked back and forth and his shoulder shook as he struggled to fight back the tears he'd been battling all day.

"Ken-chan?" Wormmon asked timidly. "Why-"

"Shh." Shaking arms weakly pulled the caterpillar into his lap. "Shh," Ken whispered again.

Wormmon pressed himself into Ken's arms, both offering and seeking comfort. "Why did he hit you, Ken?"

"Today was just a bad day, that's all, Wormmon. It was just a bad day . . ."

**************

Tsuyoshi Ichijouji's entire body was shaking. "My God, Rika . . . I just got so angry-I was so angry, and-What have I done?" he whispered in horror.

She guided him over to the couch and then returned several minutes later holding a cup of strong tea in her hands. He accepted it gratefully and they sat in silence for a moment. Then he turned to look at her, eyes brimming with sorrow. "We're losing him, aren't we?"

"No, Tsu," his wife shook her head slowly and her short hair shifted from shoulder to shoulder. She stared fixedly at the coffee table. "We lost him a long time ago."

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