AN - This is my second OC fic for Digimon.
My first one didn't go so well and so I thought I'd try again.
I was recently inspired by a story I read (NoRatCat's Digimon Beginnings) to do my own version of the prequel to season 1 and 2, with those five children you see who were the 'original digidestined'.
So, that's what this is.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own digimon.
I do not own any of the digimon portrayed in this fic.
I do not own the idea of the five original digidestined
I do not own Gennai

BUT: I do own all of my own characters - the ones which you have never heard of before.
I also own the random crests which were not from the original series... well not particularly as you can't own virtues, but still.
-My crests of Yin and Yang, Mine!-
No, no I don't really. But still, on with the story...
~Blonde-Eko

Five to save us
Five to care
Five to fight what fight they dare.

Five to carry all the twelve
The crests and virtues,
Yin and yang.

Yet these five be not digimon
But humans who are yet children.

And with their partners will stand strong
Against the evils
Of our world.

When their time comes
Beware O dark
Your best attempts these kids will mock.

Five to save us
Five to care
Five to fight what fight they dare.

The Numemon were sliding frantically, scattering in fear as they heard the familiar sound of The Laugh.

"H-He's coming," Mani Numemon warned. His eyeballs were shaking comically on their storks as he tried to round his people all back up into hiding.

"Papa-Mani," lisped a small, big eyed Numemon called Koko Numemon, "I'm scared."

Mani Numemon looked down at his little Koko Numemon and smiled encouragingly. "It'll be okay Koko-chan, don't you worry." he soothed, "Now everyone, quickly, you must get to the underground chamber. We'll be safe there." He shooed them along frantically, The Laugh was getting nearer but there may still be enough time. "Go, go, go!"

Finally Koko Numemon and the rest were safely in the passage that led to the underground chamber and all that was left to do was to get inside himself and lock the sturdy door behind him. He allowed himself a smile of relief as he reached the threshold, but it was at that moment that Mani Numemon heard The Laugh softly caressing his ears. He felt the warmth of foul breath on his back, sending a chill creeping up his spine.

He was here.

Mani Numemon knew there was nothing for it, he had to act fast. He shut the huge titanium door in front of him and sealed it as quickly as possible. Shutting the Numemon securely within the safety of the chamber, while trapping himself outside. With Him. There was no other choice at this point.

"Mani Num-" he heard the faint cry of a young Numemon, Koko Numemon no doubt, calling his name in panic as the gathered Numemon all saw the door closing with their leader still outside.

The door shut and the cries of his people were silenced; they were safe.

There was no way He could get them now.

Mani Numemon had made sure of that, and it was the last thing he would do.

He turned around slowly to face Him, and despite his determination to appear brave he quivered with fear. His whole jelly like body shook. But at the same time he felt a great inner peace wash over him. Mani Numemon had saved his people from this evil creature, Him, and he would die with the knowledge that they would live on.

The race of Numemon would survive.

Mani Numemon had won a great victory this day.

And perhaps some day one of them would actually be able to evolve to ultimate level and protect the others from harm.

Maybe one day one of them would even be able to defeat Him, Himself.

Mani Numemon smiled shakily to himself, turning and facing Him directly in the face.

Maybe it would be little Koko Numemon, the bravest of the group. Yes, Koko Numemon would make a great leader some day, a great Ultimate digimon too. His own son and heir. I wonder what he will evolve into, my precious child? So many possibilities… I hope he knows how proud I will be the day he finally achieves evolution.

Mani Numemon would never live to see it, no, but he would die to ensure it.

He stopped trembling and a peaceful smile crossed his features as he awaited his fate.

Mani Numemon closed his eyes as the blow came. The Master killed with swift fury and Mani Numemon was no more.

Koko Numemon lay in Chizu Numemon's lap in the underground chamber, hot tears running down his cheeks as he realised Mani Numemon's fate.

The Master would pay for that, Koko Numemon vowed as waves of hatred washed over him. One day, He will pay.

Yumi was an orphan. She knew nothing about her parents.

Not that she cared.

As a child she had often wondered who they may have been. She imagined wild fantasies in which she was the long lost princess of some European country, kidnapped at a young age for some political or financial reason. Or she was the long lost twin of someone on television. Or even that she was the love child of two high profile people who, at the time of her birth, couldn't admit to having her, but would one day swoop into her shitty care home and whisk her away to a life of luxury and ease. She had dreamed that she was someone important, someone worth saving, someone that people cared about; that was what all those fantasies eventually boiled down to.

Stupid, childish dreams, nothing more.

No one was going to save her from this dump she had been left in. This wasn't Disney, for crying out loud! The only person who could save her from wasting away at the bottom rung of the ladder of life was her. The only route she saw to success and prosperity was through education, so she applied herself with single minded determination to her school work, throwing herself whole heartedly into her studies and ignoring everything else. Especially people, whom she neither understood nor particularly liked.

Now, as a teenager - Yumi had just turned fourteen – she had grown into a strikingly beautiful girl, with long wavy blonde hair, big grey-green eyes and a fair, slightly freckled, complexion. Shame no one ever saw her smile. She could have been popular and had fun in high school had she been interested in socialising, but she chose to remain an outsider. Her one track mind blocked out everything but the need to succeed in her studies and her prickly personality kept the other kids at a distance.

She was a loner who everyone avoided and who avoided everyone.

The boys would look at her wistfully but ultimately decide it was not worth the risk of getting hurt and rejected by her, so even they left her alone. There were plenty of other girls in the school, they decided, none quite as beautiful, but all far easier to get and more pleasant to manage.

So Yumi was left alone, just the way she preferred it. Or at least the way she told herself that she preferred it.

She was on kitchen duty today at the care home so on her way back from school she dropped into the supermarket to pick up the ingredients that they were short of. She frowned slightly at the list as she shoved a coin into the trolley guard and yanked it out in frustration. Shopping was such a faff, especially during the busy hours when she had to compete with stir crazy mothers and their noisy little brats.

"Right, tomatoes, sweetcorn, purée and mince meat..." She chanted quietly to herself as she wound around the other shoppers. On her way around she grabbed some dried pasta and flour too, she hadn't checked before leaving this morning if they had enough of those but she figured it was always worth grabbing extras. The flour was because she felt like baking something and she had a feeling Tamika's birthday was either today or tomorrow so she wanted to be prepared to make a cake on demand if necessary.

She rather liked baking and always made a point of having a cake ready for each of the younger children's birthdays. She knew how important such things were and only wished that there had been someone to make her feel special for that one day a year as a child.

Hm, Tamika likes strawberries, so I may grab some of those too. I'm sure the cooking budget can stretch to it just for this occasion, she smiled.

Once she had all that she needed she made her way to the shortest queue she could find, hoping to be home as soon as possible as she had a few urgent assignments that she wanted to get out of the way tonight.

"Hey look," a high pitched voice coming from outside sneered. "Isn't that the care home trash girl?"

A group of girls who were walking past the supermarket together stopped in their tracks and began to laugh as they stared through the glass at Yumi.

"Yeah, how pitiful. She even has to do her own grocery shopping." One gasped in mock horror, wrinkling her nose up at the thought.

"Ugh, what a loser." They decided as they walked on, laughing.

"No wonder her parents didn't want her, just look at her clothes!" Yumi heard one of them say in the distance.

Some people around her in the queue had glanced in her direction curiously during this scene and Yumi could have sworn she saw pity in their eyes. Her cheeks burned bright red and she held her chin up high, eyes blazing as she furiously shoved her groceries through the scanner and packed them up.

How dare those girls humiliate her like that.

As she made her way back to the care home all she could think about was their snide comments. Anger built up inside her and she took it out on the food she prepared. Chopping vegetables with a vengeance and pounding the ingredients together with fury as she baked.

This cake was going to be perfect, or else.

Benjiro and Renjiro sat in their garden revising. They were about to sit their yearly exams before they broke up for summer and their parents cared a great deal about their education, the result being that the two boys were spending a beautiful sunny day glancing over algebra and various theorems. The very kind of day that would be perfect for going out and enjoying myself with some friends, Benjiro thought regretfully to himself.

He sighed. "Renji, what happens when you have a number to the power of zero?" he asked, tapping his pencil against the garden table in frustration. After having wrestled with geometry for over an hour already he was in no mood for stupid 'x to the power of whatever's.

His twin looked at the equation Benjiro was pointing at before replying casually "Anything to the power of zero is always one."

Benjiro nodded, of course his twin would know. While Benjiro was known to be brilliant at everything sports related, when it came to the academic subjects Renjiro could not be beaten. He just seemed to have a natural ease with numbers and logic, where Benjiro had an ease with people.

"Oh," he said, "yeah of course, cheers Renji." Benjiro said, smiling cheerfully at him before diving miserably back to attacking the dreaded revision again.

"No worries," Renjiro muttered, once more gripped in the hold of a mathematical problem he was half way through.

They sat in silence for a while, studying together.

Benjiro and Renjiro were twins, yet were complete opposites. At least they appeared to be.

Benjiro, or Benji as he preferred to be called, was tall and slim, with platinum blonde hair that was always neatly combed, big blue eyes, full of warmth, and a constant smile on his face. He was unusually affectionate for a fourteen - nearly fifteen - year old lad, and was popular and outgoing. He played football, basketball and tennis for their school, and was always the centre of attention. Despite being extremely popular and adored by girls, he frequently chose to hang out with the less 'popular' kids as he found them to be far more sincere and interesting.

Benjiro was basically the perfect teenage lad.

Renjiro, or Renji as he was known to his brother, was also tall and slim. However he had quite long, very thick messed up spiky black hair that was clearly on unfamiliar terms with any form of grooming equipment. His eyes were black-grey and he often wore a sullen expression. He hardly ever smiled. At school he excelled in the maths and sciences but showed little interest in much else, much less socialising - showing contempt for other students and preferring to keep his own company. It could not be said that he shared his brother's popularity in any way, in fact he was mostly avoided.

The twins were each alluring in their own way, yet Benjiro wore his beauty with ease while Renjiro shied away from others and often hid himself beneath a reclusive outer layer which succeeded in repelling people. Benjiro and Benjiro alone knew that he, too, held a wonderful but sensitive soul, which was filled with more care, love and compassion than even Benjiro. But this was buried underneath a sullen exterior, locked away for fear of being hurt.

Because, as far as Renjiro was concerned, in reality those who showed compassion were weak, and those who were weak were just asking to get trampled on.

Deep down the twins were not that different at all, yet as far as the world was concerned they were at completely opposite poles.

So while his brother was adored by all, Renjiro stood and watched from a far. He always kept his distance in public, partly because he didn't want to drag his brother down to his level of isolation and partly because he didn't want himself to be dragged up to his brother's level of popularity. So, no matter how Benjiro tried to hang out with his twin in school, he never got a chance because Renjiro would just walk away.

At first this had hurt and saddened Benjiro, but he got used to it.

"Right, I've had enough!" Benjiro said eventually, standing and stretching out his limbs. "It's a beautiful day and I'm not going to waste it on some silly old numbers."

"Benji," Renjiro sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It isn't that bad. We'll be done before you know it."

Benjiro scowled slightly, looking away from his brother. Easy for him to say, he actually understands this stuff.

"Look," Renjiro frowned. "You need to know this. How about we go over it together, I'll explain stuff?" He raised an eyebrow invitingly.

"On one condition." Benjiro made a sideways grin at his brother, "we follow it up with something fun."

Fabulous, Renjiro thought to himself. Their ideas of what was fun were wildly different. But if that's what it takes to get him through these exams…

"Alright." He said, resigned to spending the evening doing something distasteful. "Just as long as you do learn this stuff."

"I will," Benjiro beamed, delighted that his twin had agreed to spend the evening together. "How does a movie sound? A movie and a whole load of pizza!" He buzzed around Renjiro like an excited puppy.

A movie? Renjiro felt himself nod faintly, a movie sounds okay.

Benjiro grinned broadly at his brother's nod. "How about that new movie Prom Night?" His eyes twinkled mischievously, it was the leaver's prom for the year elevens this summer and so this film had been the talk of the school in recent weeks. Very topical.

But Renjiro shook his head, as much as he wanted to watch some funny movie about a Prom gone wrong, he wasn't really in the psychopathic-killer-stalker movie mood right now. He fancied something a bit simpler, "How about Troy?"

Troy was an old favourite of theirs, one which was traditionally paired with pizza.

Benjiro nodded, "Perfect."

So Renjiro picked up his book again and opened it to the right page while Benjiro skipped off to sweet talk their mum and dad into forking out cash for a takeaway.

There he goes, Mr. Perfect, Renjiro thought, sighing. He even gets on with mum and dad, I swear they would do anything for him.

Sometimes Renjiro longed to be the favourite twin, just for once. To see how it felt.

Jeri smiled at his reflection in the mirror. The 'out of control' style brown hair, the liquid brown eyes, the strong jaw bone, yup he was the whole package. Ladies, form an orderly queue please, he grinned as he smoothed down his shirt.

Jeri was tall and athletically built from years as a track runner. His face was tanned from spending so much time outside and his nose was littered with faint freckles which he thought looked quite good. If he did say so himself.

He was dressed up slightly today. The look he was aiming for was smart casual as tonight he was attending an awards ceremony for his latest winning performance in the cross country and the sprinting events for the county.

He just hoped he had got 'smart casual' right. Usually for events like this his mother kitted him out in proper attire, but tonight she had worked a little later than expected so he had had to make do. He was wearing a light, white shirt and he purposely left the top button undone because he thought it looked less stiff. Then he had chosen to wear some black skinny jeans because although he wasn't actually into the whole style that usually went with skinny jeans, he liked the way these ones looked on him. Besides, they were smarter than his other trousers. Around his neck he wore a brown beaded tribal necklace which he felt looked dashing against his tanned skin.

Finally he added the crowning glory to his image, his trademark item which he never went anywhere without. His goggles.

Once he had inspected his appearance in the mirror once more and was finally satisfied, Jeri left the room and headed downstairs. He had just heard his mother come through the door and wanted to be the first to greet her.

"Sweetheart," she gushed proudly when she saw him, "you look gorgeous!"

Jeri blushed and hugged her. He loved his mum to bits, but she could be embarrassing sometimes. Of course he looked gorgeous, but her saying it just sounded weird.

Then his dad came in, overhearing this.

Jeri frowned.

His dad grunted, eyeing his son's attire. "Oh spare me. Don't say things like that, Yaeko," he glared accusingly at her, "you'll just add to this pretty boy's already over inflated ego."

Yaeko shrank back at his words, and bowed respectfully.

Jeri glared. He hated his father bitterly, especially the way he always made his mum seem so submissive and defeated.

"Well," he said staring at them both with barely disguised contempt, "what are you waiting for woman? Take the boy to his little ceremony now, or he'll be late."

Yaeko nodded hurriedly and rushed Jeri outside to their Land Rover. As soon as they were outside Sasuke, Jeri's father, slammed the house door shut. He was just glad to get rid of them for an evening.

Jeri scowled, he hated the way his father treated him, so condescending as if he were inferior and not worth his time. Always so cold and dismissive. No matter what Jeri did his father would scoff at him. But even more than that he hated the way Sasuke treated his mum, as if she were nothing. He just spoke to her as though she were stupid, expected her to wait on him hand and foot, and complained about everything she did. He seemed to take pleasure watching her squirm uncomfortably as he made impossible demands while criticising her every move.

Just watching it made Jeri sick.

Poor mum, he thought glancing at her kind, wrinkled face. You deserve so much better.

However, he soon forced himself to lighten up; he did after all have an awards ceremony to go to. This was his big day and he had been looking forward to it for ages. There was no way he was going to let his father ruin it for him, or for his proud mum. Because the world didn't revolve around his dad! No, in fact as far as Jeri was concerned right now his dad didn't matter one bit.

This was a day of celebration for him and his mum and his friends.

To hell with that bastard Sasuke.

Roka shivered at the thought of going back there after today.

He pictured Dashna, Lucian and their gang in his mind's eye, jeering at him and shoving him into walls, into fences, into anything they fancied. They all hated him and laughed when he couldn't fight back. Roka was small for his age, a pretty boy in a rough neighbourhood, and he stuck out like a sore thumb.

The school he attended, called The Willows, was an overcrowded comprehensive school with boarded up windows and graffiti as the main form of decoration. The children in this school were a bunch of animals, Roka thought. And this was only junior school. He hated to imagine what the high school would be like in this place.

Roka was nine years old and until last year his life had been completely different. He had lived in a lovely area with miles upon miles of scenic country land, of which he owned a good many acres, and had gone to a public school which he had loved and flourished in. The children there were all well brought up and kind, none of them would have ever dreamed of acting in the way the children at The Willows acted. It was just alien to him, or at least it had been.

But everything had changed the day that his dad was exposed and fined heavily for fraud and something called inside trading, before being taken away and arrested. Since then Roka's life had been very, very different. His mother and he had had to move from their seven bedroom detached home in the country to this shabby city block apartment in the centre of Japan. What's more, none of the so-called friends from their previous life could stand to be associated with them, so they were alone.

But Roka didn't mind that much, this new apartment and the alien surroundings had all been a new adventure to him.

What he did mind was the school.

At first he had got on okay there, although the state of it had shocked him he had just taken it in his stride in the way that children do. He had been mostly left alone for the first part of the year, keeping his head down sensibly. He had avoided any excess contact with the other children, feeling intimidated by their behaviour. They had pretty much avoided him too.

But things had taken a turn for the worst when he had seen Kuniko, a shy girl who he helped occasionally with her reading, being beaten up by some boys in an older year - year six, he would guess by their height - because of something to do with her brother. The boys wanted revenge on her older brother and decided that the best way to go about this was to attack his little sister.

His seven year old little sister.

Sick.

Roka had seen this and acted before he could think the situation through. Obviously protecting the poor girl was his first instinct and he just ploughed in there and stood up to the boys. They then turned on him as Kuniko fled, gratefully. Once Roka saw she was safely away he ran too, and as he was fast compared to the older, heavily built bullies, he had been able to make a clean escape with only a few minor injuries.

Unfortunately he hadn't foreseen the consequences.

Roka's actions had essentially painted a bull's eye on his back. The fact that he had stood up to some of the most viscous bullies in the school, kids who felt that they ruled the primary school and who also had older brothers who terrorised the estate they lived in, spelt trouble. Add to this his innocent, angelic looks, his size and his posh accent and poor Roka was toast. A lamb among lions.

He had run home today, narrowly escaping a beating. They just never gave up!

He slammed the door shut quickly behind him as he reached the safety of his own apartment and settled down to nurse his –thankfully minor!- injuries before his mum got home and fussed over him. The last thing he needed was fussing.

He just couldn't face tomorrow, or the day after. The constant comments, "goody two shoes," "pretty boy," "posh nob" were just injuries to his pride which he could handle, and he eventually healed from the cuts and bruises. It was just the constant fear and humiliation which came with it that he couldn't stand any more. And the hate which was being directed at him. His life had been sheltered and he had hardly even known hate could exist in such extremes. But it did. He knew that he was dealing with people who had known nothing but hate their whole lives, kids for whom it was all they understood. The Willows exposed him to a whole new world and he wanted out because he just couldn't face it any more. Now that it was being aimed towards him.

I wish I could just disappear, he thought to himself wistfully. Just vanish into thin air or something.

But he knew that that was just not possible, miracles don't happen except in fairy tales.

So he shook his head and winced slightly as he rubbed at his knee with a cotton wool blob he had soaked in antiseptic, cleaning the graze before slapping a plaster on it. He wanted to cry at the hopelessness of it, the harshness of it all, but he didn't. He was determined that he would grow to be a stronger person because of this hardship, just like his dad.

His dad was doing really well in jail, finally determined to do what it took to get out of there and back to his family as soon as possible. He was becoming an honest guy and sincerely trying to change, even though it was hard.

Roka had asked him how he did it, how he managed to thrive even in such a horrid place as jail, and his dad had turned around to him and said, "Because I need this son."

"Why though dad?"

"Jail is a nasty place," he had replied quietly, "but it has done me good. I am going to come out of here a better person, you'll see."

Roka had looked at his dad questioningly and his dad had just smiled sadly and said, "Buddy, listen to me closely. In life there will be many tough times, I expect you know what I mean now, living where you do can't be easy and I'm sorry about that. It may be difficult but these times are when we learn how to pick ourselves back up and fight through our battles." His dad stared into Roka's eyes and frowned slightly, "I need you to just remember this: what doesn't kill you can only make you stronger."

From then on Roka had taken this as his motto. It had been truly inspiring to see such sincerity in his father's eyes, something that had never been there before. It was perhaps the only good think his dad had ever given him, that determination to overcome difficulties. The only thing of value he had ever really received from either of his previously shallow, money obsessed parents.

He slowly repeated it to himself now, holding his chin up that bit higher and feeling the strength come back into his softly spoken voice.

"What doesn't kill me can only make me stronger."

He pursed his lips and slapped on yet another plaster.