Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ For They Shall Be Filled ❯ Pre-Game Highlights ( Chapter 18 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

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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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~"Then the devil left Him, and behold, angels came and ministered to Him."

-Matthew 4: 11

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Chapter Eighteen

Pre-Game Highlights

Takeru Takaishi stood in front of the door of the Ichijouji residence, hand poised to knock. What are you doing here, TK? What on earth possessed you to volunteer to pay a house call to your worst-okay, former-worst enemy? And what exactly were you telling the new kids this morning? His hand knocked on the door. What are you gonna say to him? This is not the brightest thing you've ever done.

The door swung inward to reveal a small mousy-looking woman with curly brown hair and plain, comely features. Her brown eyes blinked at the blond in confusion.

The Child of Hope pasted a bright smile across his face and removed his hat. "Is Ken Ichijouji here?"

Rika Ichijouji mimicked his facial expression. "Sorry, but we don't allow solicitors here."

The door began to swing closed. "Hey, wait!" cried TK, blocking the door with his hand. "My name is Takeru Takaishi. We talked on the phone. Remember? The camping trip?"

The door flew back open as though it was on a spring. "Oh, I'm so sorry, dear. Please come in."

TK entered self-consciously, stopping briefly in the hallway to remove his shoes and put on the guest slippers. Ken's mother was chattering away, oblivious to the boy's discomfort. "Ken is in his room packing his things. I'm sorry for closing the door on you, but ever since he came back, the press hasn't given him a moment's peace. He's really looking forward to this trip, though. We all decided that he really needed to get away from everything." She sighed sadly. "Especially today."

The blond Digidestined looked around the apartment as the petite woman spoke. The flat was neat and expensive-looking, with just a hint of sterility. There were no scattered papers on the table or dishes in the sink. There wasn't even any dust. A few pictures were scattered about the apartment. They mostly consisted of color-coordinated watercolors, but some appeared to be family photos: pictures of a small boy with wild indigo hair and glasses. TK paused in the living room to inspect one. It featured the wild-haired boy wearing gold-rimmed glasses and a small triumphant smirk.

"That's a really good picture of Ken," he offered when Mrs. Ichijouji paused for breath.

She half-turned and regarded the photo with a sad smile. "Oh, no. That's not Ken; that's his older brother Osamu."

A speculative blond eyebrow lifted slightly. "I didn't know Ken had a brother."

"He died a few years ago. Ken was absolutely devastated. He doesn't talk about Sam much anymore . . ."

Nice, TK, he thought in disgust. Think there's room in your mouth for your other foot, too? Aloud he only said: "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

The woman shrugged noncommittally and then brightened. "This," she said, indicating the last door at the end of the hall, "is Ken's room. I'll just leave you boys alone now."

"Thank you, Mrs. Ichijouji."

He turned to knock on door, only to have it swing open in his face. Ken leaned nonchalantly against the doorframe, his indigo hair tumbling strategically in front of his face, obscuring part of it from view. A pair of slightly faded blue jeans and a long-sleeved indigo shirt, so dark it was nearly black, covered his slim frame and his face was set in a cool look of slightly contemptuous indifference. "Hello, Takeru."

The other boy paled and then blushed. "Hi, Ken." He tried not to stare at the other boy's foreign clothing and Ken shrugged.

"Mother didn't want my uniform stained. Come in," Ken gestured and stood aside. "Minomon has been anxious to leave."

"Hi, TK!" squeaked a voice from somewhere above him.

TK entered and closed the door behind him. The bedroom was very dim and just as neat and sterilized as the rest of the apartment. An elevated bed dominated the wall directly across from the door, set five feet in the air over a balcony door and a neat bookcase. Purple curtains blocked most of the light coming through the balcony doors and cast violet shadows over everything. A pair of closed doors, several bookshelves, all packed tight, and a dresser claimed the right wall. On the left wall, high cupboards and a shelf projected out over the modern-looking desk. A pencil cup, globe, PC, closed laptop, and several books occupied the desk's polished surface. In the center of the room was a round table where Ken busied himself with his bag, as Takeru browsed through some of the books standing upright and neatly stacked on the desk. Titles like Viva La France, Physics for the Modern World, Honors C++, and Advanced Programming and Mathematics adorned the hard covers of the books lying down: they were all text books. The upright books appeared to be reference books from his personal collections.

Next to the computer, another picture of Osamu Ichijouji grinned up at him through a plain and functional frame. TK's eyes roamed and he saw another picture of Osamu on the bookcase beneath the bed. This time the older Ichijouji shared the picture with a small child, probably a good five or six years his junior. The younger child was leaning into the elder as though he were trying to sink into him or hide from the camera. He was blushing a dusty pink. Osamu had possessive arms around his little brother and he grinned at the camera photogenicly. There was something odd behind the smile, though, or perhaps it was in the way he pulled Ken to him, but there lurked something closed and dangerous in his blue-violet eyes.

Takeru frowned, uncomfortable with that picture. Then he frowned again and did a double take of the room as he noticed something else odd. There were absolutely no toys or posters anywhere in the room. It was almost clinical in its maturity.

"Takeru?" The boy jumped as a delicate hand waved in front of his eye. He turned to see Ken watching him with an upraised eyebrow. The other boy's head was still tilted to the side, hiding the right half of his face beneath his hair. "I asked you if something was wrong."

He looked at the pale boy oddly for a moment. "No, nothing is wrong. . . .Nice room."

Ken retrieved his laptop and a small bundle of cords and went back to his bag. "It suits my needs."

This comment earned Ken another look, but the boy didn't appear to notice. He was placing something in the book bag from the round table that occupied the center of the room. Takeru frowned darkly as he recognized the long leather coils of Ken's whip. "What do you need that for?" he demanded more sharply than intended.

Ken looked up in surprise. That question had never occurred to him. The sudden motion, however, caused his hair to slide back from his face and revealed the angry bruise running across his cheek.

TK stared in shock at the purple mark that marred the other's face. "What happened?!"

The obvious concern in his voice came as another surprise and for a moment Ken didn't respond. Then he shrugged dismissively and waved away the question with an elegant hand. "It's nothing."

"Nothing? You look like you let the soccer team practice with your face and you call it nothing?"

"I'm fine. Why are you worried anyway?"

"Who said I was worried?"

" . . . Whatever." Ken finished packing his bag. Ignoring the blonde's glare walked over to the bed where he lifted up a small green and brown bundle. "We're ready to go if you are."

The bundle's eyes crinkled in a sort of smile and a flipper-like appendage waved. "Hi, TK," Minomon chimed again.

"Hey, Minomon."

The in-training digimon tilted his head in childish curiosity. "Where's your digimon?"

In spite of himself, the Child of Hope grinned at the digimon's innocence. There was something about Wormmon and Minomon that reminded him of Davis. Davis without the overpowering cockiness. And annoyingness. And Davisness. "He's waiting in the car."

Ken raised an eyebrow and TK shrugged. "Mom knows about the whole Digital World thing."

"Really? That certainly had to be an interesting experience."

"Well, I didn't really have much choice. Once your mom sees you walking around Japan with giant monsters and getting sucked up into the sky by beams of light, there are bound to be questions."

A ghost of a smile danced near Ken's lips and faded. "I would imagine so." He gently secured Minomon in the book bag and lifted it up to his shoulder. "We should go."

TK nodded and followed him out the door. "You never answered my question," he reminded the boy genius as he they made there way up the hall.

"Goodbye, Mother," Ken said as he passed the kitchen.

"Oh, Ken!" the plain woman called.

The boy bit back a sigh. "Yes, Mother?"

Mrs. Ichijouji emerged from the kitchen wearing a bright smile and carrying two paper bags. She handed a bag to each of them and gave them both a chance to bask in the glow of her motherly affection. "Have fun, boys."

He looked at her and gave her a rare genuine smile. "Thank you, Mother."

She beamed and returned to the kitchen.

"What question?" Ken asked as he put his boots on.

Takeru grunted and leaned against the wall, briefly struggling with his recalcitrant sneakers. "The whip. Why are you bringing the whip?"

"Why are you wearing that ridiculous hat?"

"…"

"Any more questions, Digidestined?"

"Shut up."

The two pulled on their shoes in silence after that. As Ken closed the door to his apartment and locked it he sighed. He hadn't meant to upset TK . . . no, actually he had. He had had every intention of irritating Takeru. And he had been quite amused by the boy's brief flash of temper. . . . But now he did regret it. And the other boy had been concerned about his injury. The genius scowled. He had never had to worry about all these damned feelings before. Hmph.

He turned around. Takeru was leaning against the wall in the hallway with his arms crossed and his head down. He was glaring like thunder. Nice, genius. Now how are you going to make this better? He paused hesitantly and looked at the other boy. "Hey, Takeru?"

"What?"

". . . It's a nice hat."

The blond watched the other carefully, suspiciously. Then he relaxed and smiled. "Thanks Ken."

Things were much more pleasant after that.

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

Thump! The soccer ball hit the tree and resounded hollowly. Thump! Thump! Davis caged it neatly and dribbled it for a moment before hitting the tree again. Thump! Thump!

Demiveemon watched his partner with a small smile. "Why'd we come so early?" he demanded in his child-like voice.

"I told you, Demiveemon, we had sneak out before Jun finds out that Matt'll be here." Thump! "It's not like it's my fault she's obsessed with him." Thump! Thump! Thump! "Besides, Grandpa needs to get home before dark to take his medication." Thump!

"Oh." A small blue head rose from the picnic table curiously. Thump! "Will Minomon be here soon?" Thump!

"Yeah, Ken'll bring him. You really like Mino, don't you?"

Thump! "He's nice! He knows lots of stuff, too."

Davis grunted as he kicked the ball again. Thump! "Hmph. Livin' with a big brain like Ken rubs off, I guess."

Thump! The soccer ball hit a knot on the tree and rolled away in a mocking flash of black and white. "Aw, damnit!" Davis glared at the offensive plastic as it rolled past him and let out a long string of colorful language.

"Nice, Motomiya."

"Huh?" The goggle boy turned in surprise just in time to see Ken Ichijouji catch the ball in a flawless cage and lightly kick it back to him. Naturally, the kick was perfect.

The genius smirked. "You even lose when you play by yourself. That has to take skill."

Davis shrugged good-naturedly. Ever since Wormmon's death he had noticed that Ken's little smirk were no longer the trademark evil expressions of the Emperor. They were undoubtedly mocking-even downright malicious at times-but they weren't evil. "Everybody needs a talent."

"Right."

"Where's TB? Didn't you two come together?"

"Yes," Ken responded in his polished voice as he gently set his book bag on the picnic table next to Chibimon. He nodded in greeting to the little blue dragon-thing. "His mother wanted to talk to him, so I came up ahead." He turned back to Chibimon. "Minomon's missed you."

The book bag zipper slid downward and a small brown and green rocket launched itself at Chibimon with a shrill squeal of delight. Ken's lips twitched towards a smile that didn't appear.

Davis frowned as a dark mark on the side of Ken's face caught his attention. "What happened?"

"Hmm?"

"Your face, dude. What happened?"

"Judo practice."

"Oh." Davis kicked the ball towards Ken. "Still feel like putting your game where your mouth is, Ichijouji?"

A delicate eyebrow rose. "Is that a challenge, goggle-head?"

"That's goggle-man, 'Rocket.' And what do you think? Aren't you supposed to be a genius or something like that?"

Ken's eyes flashed in the sun. His smirk broadened. "Something like that."

"Hmph. Says you."

Ken launched the ball back at Davis with far more force than necessary. "Shut up and play, Motomiya."

And the game was on.

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