Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Secrets ❯ Chapter 6

There's so much a man can tell you, so much he can say
You remain my power, my pleasure, my pain
Baby, to me you're like a growing addiction that I can't deny
Won't you tell me is that healthy, baby?
--Seal http://www.geocities.com/koujo_pink/noveldai.htm

Motomiya Daisuke is everything to me, I don't exactly remember when I realized it. It feels as if I have always known, but I know better. I know how I had originally felt when I first met the red head-animosity in the purest sense of the word. With some admiration of course. And I know how I felt afterwards. I can almost remember the feelings shift-hatred, disbelief, gratitude, friendship, and finally love. It happened so slowly that it almost feels as if it has taken eons to happen. But only some years have past during the transitions, some happening in the span of a few minutes. Maybe it started in junior high school, maybe in high school; I seem to can't remember when.

Looking back on my life I have realized I can break it into categories-my life while you were alive, oniisan, my life after your death, and my life since I have meet Daisuke. While I was with you, Osamu, life was somewhat balanced, I was neither too happy nor too miserable. My feelings for you varied depending on the days and how you treated me. My feelings on everything depended on how my family interacted with me. But that's normal, when a child your family is everything.

Yes, I hated you brother, at times; but I never wanted anything bad to happen to you. I now understand what my innocence could not grasp. Even though I hated you, Osamu, that day so long ago, and even though I wished for your death with all of my being. I was not the cause of it. And as I run my hand over the carvings of your name on this head stone, I know that what happened was just a twisted coincidence, my wishing your death and then you getting hit by that car. But I was so young and those two incidents plagued my young mind and I hated you for dying and leaving me here to grieve your death.

You were punishing me, or so I thought.

From the misery of a lost, confused, and pained child came an evil that no one could have ever seen coming, but was still there none the less. Your death gave my darker side the power to blossom into a deadly entity. And it took the opportunity that I was so distraught, using the help from the outside evils to create something new…something that was a combination of my own hatred and yourself, brother. It created the Digimon Kaiser, the Lord and Keeper of Darkness.

And Ichijouji Ken, the one you knew and loved and tormented was plunged into darkness, lost, afraid, and too anguished and angry to try and find his way to the light again. The Kaiser took advantage of that, playing on my fears and insecurities, touching and caressing me. And I was so starved for forgiveness and the warmth that forgiveness brought with it that I moved towards the caress. I believed those whispered words letting myself fall into darkness, for darkness could be just as comforting as light.

I was comfortable oniisan; you have no idea how comfortable I was. When one release their humanity like I had-the way the Kaiser had shown me-one cares nothing for old grievances. So I forgot you, Osamu. I forgot my guilt over your death and I was happy. My guilt left me, but so did my conscious and I didn't care what I did to those under me. To those innocent creatures that had nothing to do with the anger that still festered in me. That same anger that the Kaiser fed off.

Do you know how many I have tortured hiding behind your visage? Yes, oniisan, for when the Kaiser came, he came as you. At the time I never noticed that I would wear your hairdo, make that same twisted smile you'd make when plotting mischief, speak just as you did to me to Wormmon. But you were never truly bad, oniisan.

The Kaiser twisted your memory, Osamu. Made you into something with out remorse, something that hated me unconditionally. And I reflected that hate, like a mirror. Twisted, backwards onto the innocent…on to my Wormmon.

I hurt so many-you, Wormmon, my parents, and so many Digimon. I was perpetually lost in darkness. And I would have stayed lost if it weren't for the Chosen Children taking me down with such ferocity.

So it would have ended, the invincible Digital Kaiser falling to light of the golden warrior lizard, whom used the power that was originally his to begin with. Doomed to be a miserable failure and grieve once more-the weight of guilt doubling…tripling. I had hurt so many, tortured so many, killed without remorse. I had defiled your memory, oniisan. I would have taken my life. The guilt was tremendous…I would have taken my life. Oniisan, I was planning it as I held the dying Wormmon in my arms.

You have Daisuke to thank for keeping that from happening. I remember it so clearly, his eyes were so warm, so pained, so forgiving. He walked up to me and gave me my crest. He told me it was mine that it belonged to me. The crest of Kindness. How could he possibly know something like that? He told me that I belonged with them. Such honesty, Osamu, I had never seen in my life. It radiated from him like light but when I looked at the other Chosen I didn't see the same warmth, they were still angry. Though some held looks of pity. There was no pity in Daisuke's eyes, strangely there was understanding. There was no understanding in the eyes of the others.

I couldn't face them, even facing Daisuke-whom had already forgiven me, it seemed-was too difficult. I left, but I couldn't take my life. No matter how hard I tired, I couldn't. Coming home to my parents and seeing their expressions of joy and relief. I couldn't hurt them anymore. I had lost my apathy towards other people's feelings. I couldn't forget the look of pure love in their eyes. And I couldn't forget Daisuke's warmth, his forgiveness. Somewhere deep inside I knew he cared enough to help me and that tiny bit of knowledge kept me from taking those pills.

You should know, Osamu, that ever since I opened up to him I've lost so much of my darkness, and have been able to control what was left. It took a long time, but his persistence helped, keeping me from giving up.

But oniisan tell me, have I really done anything for him? I wonder that sometimes and these days, a lot more. Daisuke has done so much me, helped me in so many ways. But what have I ever done for him? It's clear that he is hurting-has been for so long. What is hurting him? I don't know. Sometimes I look into his eyes and they swirl with pain, even behind that ever-present happiness. There is pain and I wonder how real his happiness is…or at least, how far down does it go?

Oh Osamu, all I ever do is take. Constantly, like a spoiled child that wants everything. I take everything he gives and never once does he complain. Does he say, what's in it for me? No, he just smiles at me and continues to give me things.

He gave me back my life. He gave me new and real friends. He made the Chosen except me, and I believe he made them believe that there was no other course to take. For me to be with them was as destined as they were to carry the Digivice. Takeru and I would have probably never spoken again if it weren't for him. My pride was still hurt from being defeated by him in hand to hand combat and I was so angry-scared to see the anger and hatred in his eyes. The same anger that inflamed his clear blue eyes. Who would have thought that I'd one day have no qualms with crying in Takeru's arms? Who would have thought one day Takeru would hurt when I hurt? Daisuke probably thought that and made it happen.

But still, those are the things he did for me…so many things, things I haven't even mentioned. Every time I think back I can see him doing something for me. But I never see myself doing anything for his pain. I never really tried to slay his dragons, I've left him alone to fight them himself. And all he can do is restrain them. Why haven't I helped him? Maybe cause he is the light in my darkness, light should have no problems? Bullshit. Am I just inattentive? No, I think about him so much, when I'm with him I'm always aware, watching. I know he's hurting. I just don't know why.

And he won't tell me why! Never tells me when he's hurt! Never wants anyone to know when he's in pain. Makes sure no one knows why he hurts. We all know something bothers him, keeps that smile from reaching his eyes. And all we do is watch…

And all I do is just watch, always drawn more and more to his radiance. But now is when I have really become aware of the shadow that dims that radiance. It had always been there and I know that I had known about it, but now I am aware of it. So aware that when I look at him, be it in pictures or in reality, I can see it…that dark shadow hovering almost protectively over him. Keeping us apart, keeping me from touching him the way he has touched me.

And it drives me crazy! I can't help him the way he helps me. Brother, I am lost again. I don't know why I cannot help him. I don't know why I can not just forget him either-why I could never forget him. Why would I want to forget him now, you ask? Because it's so painful loving him and knowing he doesn't care. His apathy for my feelings for him is killing me oniisan, but I keep coming back. Like a drug addict, I come back for more knowing it's bad for me but yet loving the euphoria it brings too much to quit. Knowing that it will probably kill me, I come back for more.

If I must die, I want it to be him that kills me.

***

He blinked looking up at the man standing before him; the difference in their height was immense. But that was to be expected, he was a man while Daisuke was only a boy. Large brown eyes stared into endless green, the eyes of the only man that Daisuke knew as father. At a much younger age he had even dared to call him 'papa' but soon learned what the correct way to address the man before him was. He now knew that this man was not his father, but he was the only thing close enough to a father Daisuke had ever had and would ever have.

He had learned that when he was four, and now at the age of six he knew no other truth. Late at night, he would even think about what it would be like to have Fujiwara Yasunori as a real father. Just like in the picture books that Ayumi-chan would read to him to get him to sleep when he was younger and afraid of the dark. He would sit and think of what it would be like to have Fujiwara Yasunori teach him how to play baseball or wonder if he would sit at the table and read the newspaper at breakfast while his mother, Ayumi-chan, would set the food on the table. But all of that was stupid, he knew that he lived the perfect life right now. Well considering his situation, that is. He wasn't so bad off, not like the rest of the children, not like the older kids. Fujiwara Yasunori was like a father, he protected him. Daisuke was his favorite, and was kept for the special and important people to use. Daisuke smiled, proud to be so important.

Though he was once scared, when it had all first began, when he had his first experience, it had been terrifying. He had been scared during his training. Scared of the man in front of him. Scared of things that would be done to him. Scared of the things that would happen to him. The things that happened to the other children. But now he was use to it, he knew exactly what he had to do, it was something that had been programmed into him in such painful ways so that he would never forget. And he never intended on forgetting. He wasn't to partial to pain and he had seen what the punishment was for those who crossed the line, those who forgot the rules. Those who forget their only task in life.

Daisuke understood his task in his life and he couldn't understand how anyone could forget what they had been born for. Fujiwara Yasunori had explained it to him once and he understood. But it had taken a very long time for him to get it right. He remembered exactly the words that were told to him that day, spoken firmly and in a way that made it impossible for Daisuke to think otherwise.

"Every person born into this world has a propose." He had said, looking straight in to Daisuke's eyes with his jade eyes, straight into his soul. "But since your birth was unwanted, we don't know what it is. So it is my job to give you one, just like all the other worthless, abandon children here. For you all most have a purpose in life, na Shun?"

Daisuke had nodded automatically, thanking him for troubling himself with rift-raft like himself and the other children. This great man had taken time out of his own life to help them find a role in society. All of them, worthless, useless and unwanted but now they weren't. Now they had a purpose-a role-something to do with themselves and even a place to stay. It was all thanks to him, Fujiwara Yasunori.

Daisuke understood his task, his purpose for being and didn't need to be told that he should be grateful that he wasn't killed off like so many other unwanted children. He did his job without question, without fault. That's why he was a favorite, he was good at what he did. And he didn't think about anything else, he wasn't suppose to think of anything besides his job. Though he did more then once, but he couldn't help that and didn't want to stop it.

But no matter how much he understood that this was his purpose in life, he couldn't help but hate it and want something more. Something that didn't seem so…wrong. But how could it be wrong, it was what he born was to do? He had known that since before he could remember, but did that mean he had to like it?

There were times when he didn't like Fujiwara Yasunori, there had been many times when he wished he could never see that man again. Then there were other times where he didn't know what to do without the man. The man who was a devil and angel. His tormentor and his savior-his only father. The man represented so many things to him.

Years later, Daisuke knew what that man really was. He understood Fujiwara Yasunori and hated him with an all-consuming intensity that it almost felt as if his body was being heated with the fires of the sun. He despised the man for what he had done to him; it was his fault that Daisuke was so troubled. He was no hero, he wasn't even a fiend-they were to good for him. He was just slime…lower then that. Fujiwara Yasunori was something so vile and disgusting that Daisuke didn't think there was a name for it.

Then why can't I stop thinking about him? He thought, sitting down in front of his easel. Why can't I forget him, like something unimportant and useless? He dipped his brush into the paint can next to him, raising his hand, positioning the brush in front of the canvas. He's always there, during my waking hours, during my sleeping ones. I can't go through out one day with out thinking about him at least once! The paintbrush moved over the canvas in one smooth motion, cutting through the white of the canvas without any trouble.

He continued to paint, his mind a million miles away, the brush moving of its own accord. His thoughts wandered back to days of the past, days when he knew nothing. When he was taught how worthless he really was, he could still hear those words in his head, sounding off like church bells, interrupting his daily life-his train of thought.

It had taken so long for the Motomiyas to convert him, to make him realize that so many of the things he thought were true were nothing but lies to make him submit. Fallacies created so that his innocence could be taken from him easily. He frowned, wondering if he had ever really been innocent in the purest sense of the word. Did he really even know what that word really meant? It had always been just a word to him, a word he did know the meaning to but didn't understand it at a more personal level.

Bending over, he dropped his paintbrush into the pitcher of water he used to clean his brushes. The water beginning to take on a different color, mixing in with the paint and diluting it before completely giving in and taking on the color. He reached over, blindly, and grabbed another can, opening it as he reached for another brush. He moved his brush, ready to dip it in the paint when his eyes settled for the first time on the paint. All other thoughts in his head disappearing, his mind blanking out before one image took hold of his mind. One specific image that he could not shake, not even if he wanted to try.

Swirling, endless green, lighting up with mirth, darkening with anger, becoming as cold and hard as jade. The green formed itself into a set of eyes, the eyes a intense shade of forest green.

Eyes like a forest…

Dark and dense, treacherous and mysterious, hiding so many secrets…eyes just like a forest.

He was trapped inside that forest, he couldn't escape, the path was right in front of him but he couldn't get to it. That's how it had been when he had first met the Motomiyas, and it had become a little better, they had helped him try and find his way out. But he was never completely free of the forest. He had just found a place relatively comfortable, but he was still there. Trapped and forever alone. And he didn't know if he could ever get out, if he even wanted to put the effort into leaving. He was comfortable, in this forest he was in, and it was the only thing he knew. No matter if it had been created from fallacy, it was truth to him. Surrounded by lies and hatred, abused constantly, but he was comfortable. He didn't know if wanted to change.

He was afraid to change.

He closed his eyes, shaking the images out of his head and taking a deep breath, returning to the painting before him. He raised his hand and began to move the brush over the canvas, the green smearing everywhere, before taking another color and continuing to remove all the white from the canvas.

He sighed, placing his paintbrush down and dropping his head into his hands. He was tired. So tired that he couldn't find the strength to stay up. He stood, deciding that trying to fight this new come exhaustion would be stupid, and walked towards the couch, falling face first on it. He closed his eyes, letting sleep take him over. Maybe he would have good dreams.

***

Callused hands were running up and down his body, soft lips pressing butterfly kisses down his neck. He gasped arching up to the soft touches. Begging for more through soft pants. His eyes closing as he felt the other inside of him, touching him so intimately. He whimpered softly, wrapping long pale arms over dark shoulders-

contrasting

-pulling his lover closer. He wanted him closer, much closer-until their bodies were unified.

One.

He moaned when the other pace was quickened, his lips searching out the other's. He needed this, need him. They needed each other. But there was something nagging at the back of his mind. Something that he kept trying to ignore. Now was not the time to be contemplating anything! But it continued to nag at him, pushing through until there was no way to ignore it.

He stared into brown eyes and he noticed something, something that he had missed for so long. They were so empty, so emotionless. All he could see was the haze of lust. Nothing else…nothing else.

There were soft kisses on his neck, soft nibbling on his throat. He gasped, forgetting everything. Those hands…such an intimate touch…the nibbling and kissing. He couldn't think, his eyes closed and he allowed himself to swept away.

***

Ken closed his eyes tightly, remembering pleasant moments that he wished he could not. Those pleasant moments brought back questions that he didn't want to answer, didn't know how to answer. He rolled over, his arms wrapping around Daisuke's middle. He pulled the shorter man closer to him, and Daisuke made a small noise in his sleep, shifting a little and then stilling once more. Ken looked down at Daisuke and pressed a small kiss to his forehead.

He closed his eyes again, nestling closer to his lover. He didn't want to think about anything at the moment. He'd take care of everything later…much later…it hurt too much to think about at the moment. He didn't even have all the answers-it was pointless.

He'd think about it later...so much later, when Daisuke wasn't in his arms radiating such warmth. Much later, no matter what the consequences…consequences that scared him. He'd take care of it later, fight the dragons later, get past the shields and face his most difficult foe…Daisuke.

But that would be later, for now he'd relish the warmth. Maybe for the last time…Ken was frightened.

TBC…

Well there goes the next part…*sighs* I hope I got the point I was trying to convey across. Saa, who knows…just as long as everyone understands I'm cool! Anyway, you all know to email me if there is any confusion. And our story is slowly drawing to a close…

Muses: Yay! *wave small fans*

…Unless I decided to add in that small piece that's been swimming in the back of my head. If that's the case, we've got a long way to go!

Muses: Shimatta!

They're lazy….^__^;