A/N: And this is the end. :D I was so excited to write the last chapter I didn't wait at least a week like I try to do with most multichaps. The ending's pretty much self-explanatory, so I'll leave you guys to it and give you some sequel info at the end. Thank you all you lovely readers, and enjoy The Bee and its Stinger's final instalment!

The Bee and its Stinger
Chapter 13 – Chosen

Two years had passed by in the space of mere minutes. That was what he theorised from his mother's shocked babbles and later concluded from more concrete materials. Two years…gone while he'd been in that pocket between worlds. And in his room had been a computer that wouldn't shut off: the only thing he'd left behind.

He and Ken…both of them had been missing for two whole years. And now they were back, from seemingly nowhere and Ken was…like he was. Still unconscious even months later at the start of the new school year. And no-one but Osamu knew why.

He couldn't say, of course. His parents and police had seen his computer screen with the Digital Gate open on it and yet they hadn't been able to see the Gate. If he'd told them they'd been in another world he'd probably be whisked away or assigned a psychiatrist or something like that. He didn't need any of those things. Nothing was wrong with him.

As for what was wrong with Ken, no doctor that had seen him had managed to come up with an explanation. All they could do was give him a bed and monitor him, and that was exactly what they did. And Osamu, once the police and the media had determined he couldn't explain that two year disappearance, was left to go back to the life he'd been living before.

And because those two years had only passed for his physical form, the only thing that made that task hard for him was Ken. He couldn't rely on him anymore to force him to take breaks when he needed to, to play things with him without the expectation that everything he did was above other people – because if he was some super human being, his brother wouldn't be lying in a hospital bed. People wouldn't have to look at him with misplaced pity. The media wouldn't get to play with his new title: "the tragic boy genius".

Those things had never frustrated him as much as they did in Ken's absence. And it seemed like even more people recognised him than ever, came up to him when he wanted to be alone, with his thoughts. And in his room where he was alone, there was that Digital Gate that still hadn't closed and that made no more sense now than before. He analysed it, poured more time into it than his studies because it was so important – but to no avail. He couldn't synchronise the equations for the flow of times in their two worlds. And he couldn't manipulate the Gate at all. And the patch had somehow eroded, as though it were a nicotine patch instead of a computer one. It was long gone by the time he could check it, leaving no trace behind.

So everything he could do in regards to the Digital World was a futility. The Gate managed itself and resisted all efforts to decode it. Ken's digivice remained in his pocket but unresponsive, and without a response or the patch he'd initially used he had no way of going back through the Gate. He couldn't remake the patch either from memory, though not from lack of trying. He had tried, but nothing had stuck to the Gate at all.

And then there were those other three digivices he carried everywhere like excess baggage he couldn't afford to part with in case of some off chance…

And then one day, the first day of the new school year, chance did smile upon him.

He'd been passing by a local middle school on the way to the Fuji TV headquarters and seen a soccer game in progress. At the beginning, it was only nostalgia. He and Ken used to play like that. Ken loved soccer more than him, and he was good at it too.

But that was the only reminder of Ken. All those kids playing were loud; Osamu could hear those laughs from across the street. Different sorts of innocence, he mused. Ken was innocent as well, but never had he made as much noise as those boys were making now.

Osamu shook his head and moved on. Odaiba was far from Tamachi and he was glad, but they were also the sorts of people who would chase him for an autograph if they recognised and the media had a long reach. And if Fuji television wanted him the word would only continue to spread. He wondered if there was something he could do that wouldn't be rude to escape from that net. Somehow, before he knew it, he was in too deep.

He enjoyed studying, learning things – and, sometimes, he did enjoy the fame as well. But at other times it was too much. Odaiba was far away for now – but the world got smaller the more one learnt of it and it wouldn't be so far before long. Not unless something changed. It wasn't like the Digital World which seemed to expand as well and elude him. If it wasn't for everything else, it would have been an enjoyable intellectual challenge for him.

But if it hadn't been for Ken and a destiny he shouldn't have been fated to have, Osamu would never have known about the Digital World in the first place. And then maybe he would have gone on blind: taking his brother for granted and apologizing when he overstepped the line, and then just continuing on like that. Or Ken would never have talked back to him, argued with him and then been rightfully upset with him. Things might never have changed for the better. They wouldn't have had the Digital World to give Ken something Osamu didn't, and apparently couldn't have. And Osamu might never have almost been run over by a car…not that it seemed like such a big deal any more. It already seemed so long ago.

The soccer ball rolled in front of him. It looked like someone had kicked it out of the schoolyard and across the road, and Osamu stopped it with a foot. Someone was running towards him and the ball: the boy who'd been loudest of all. He was shouting and waving his arms as well, as though Osamu would run off with the ball. But he had a kind expression. Osamu knew kind expressions well. Ken almost always had one. This boy's was different: more open, and somehow more brash as well, but still kind. Fleetingly, Osamu thought he would have been an interesting person for Ken to meet. But that wouldn't be happening for a while, if it ever did. And Odaiba was still a far place for now. Such a meeting would be unlikely to be anything more than coincidental.

Osamu picked the ball up and handed it to the other when he neared. The boy had no recognition on his face when he accepted it, but he had an easy grin. The sort of grin he looked like he gave everyone; he'd been giving it to the boys he'd been playing with just moments ago. 'Thanks for the ball,' he said. 'Want to play a game with us?'

'No thanks,' Osamu said, marvelling at how easily he'd called a stranger to play – unless he was mistaken and the boy did recognise him.

'Is there something on my face?' The boy didn't sound insulted or frightened; simply surprised.

'I'm sorry.' Osamu hadn't realised he was staring.

The boy grinned wider. 'I'm famous already.'

Osamu was sure there was a context he was missing there.

'Sure you can't play? There's plenty of time before dark.'

'I need to go somewhere,' Osamu explained.

'Ah, okay.' He looked disappointed. 'You stopped the ball nicely.'

Osamu looked at his feet. He hadn't noticed. 'My brother's the soccer player of the family,' he found himself saying. 'Maybe…you two will play someday.'

'Looking forward to it,' the boy said, giving him a quick bow of thanks before running off at the others' impatient shouts. Osamu wondered why he'd said those last words to the other. He looked more closely; there was nothing remarkable about his style as well, except for the passion he put into his game. But still Osamu couldn't help but think again it would be interesting to see him beside Ken.

On a whim he looked at the device in his pocket: his brother's digivice. This time there was a soft blinking dot on the screen, and Osamu stared at it a moment before digging around for the other three. The red and yellow ones were still inactive, but the blue one's screen had come alive. It had a matrix now, and a blinking dot: this time purple instead of the blue one on Ken's digivice. Osamu held the blue digivice in both hands, but nothing else happened.

He wondered if that meant the boy who'd come for the ball had been Chosen. They were all still there, behind the school fence, kicking the ball round again. It would be an easy matter to call him over, even without a name. Easy to just offer the Digivice for a moment and see if there was any reaction. But Osamu didn't want to do that. He told himself it was because the Digital World hadn't proven to be a good judge at all. It had chosen a child to partner with one of the most destructive forces known to digimon-kind. And it had chosen a boy with too kind a heart for battle to fight.

He told himself it was because he didn't trust the judgement of the Digital World, that he would wait and observe: find out more about the Digital World and those digivices before he handed someone's destiny to them. But that wasn't it. Not really. A part of him was jealous, that he couldn't enter the Digital World, that he didn't have a digivice of his own. And it was for good intentions too, but they saying went that the road to hell was paved by good intention.

He put the blue digivice back into his bag and walked away.

Behind several monitors, a man watched Ichijouji Osamu carry the tools of destiny away and smirked. He couldn't tell exactly what had happened, but he could guess. Ichijouji Osamu wanted the digivice himself, wanted it to respond to him so he could enter the Digital World.

The patch had worked to an extent, but not in the way they'd planned. Still, the worlds had been shaken. Time had skipped ahead by two years and the minds of most had been filled with false memories to compensate. Even their bodies had aged in the false progression of time: little Ken's hair had grown longer, his body taller and more frail as it slept away, in his coma. The changes were less obvious for one of Osamu's age, but they were still there: the signs of someone growing into maturity, into their teens – the last step before adulthood.

But maybe the Digital World already recognised Osamu as an adult, and that's why they refused him. No matter, Oikawa thought. His plan was to open the Digital World Gate for adults, and Osamu would be a willing pawn in that endeavour.

Things could start moving forward. Things would start moving forward.

Fin

Post A/N: And…the sequel.

It'll be up in about a month hopefully, titled Fly on a Wall. It'll cover the perspectives of more Chosen and will answer most (hopefully all) the unanswered questions from this fic. Things like the changes to Wonderswan canon, what the original Chosen are up to, a little more about how the Digital World changed after the Dark Masters...plus Daisuke, Miyako and Iori as the new Chosen. And of course Osamu, Ken, Ryo and Oikawa and co. aren't just going to vanish.

In a way, it will be a 02 rewrite. This fic has set the premise for it: a simple premise originally but it's somehow steamrolled into this. All hail the muse I guess.

I hope you enjoyed this fic, and I'll see you guys again in the sequel (and any/all other stuff my muse dives into…)