Epilogue
A gentle breeze ruffled the leaves of the thinning tree line as the forest turned to mountain. Pessimistically he saw the change as the border of death, with him on the wrong side of it. Absentmindedly, and getting annoyed with his thoughts, he kicked a small pebble away. His malaise did not go unnoticed by the two digimon keeping him company in front of the opening in the mountainside. The three of them were the only ones who hadn't gone in yet and aside from him they wouldn't either. Despite assurances of safety they wanted to stand guard. After all that had happened he thought it only prudent.
"Are you all right? Perhaps you should have stayed in the house?" Thundermon asked.
"Perhaps you should join the others inside?" Tsukaimon grinned. The Child didn't lack in self-confidence even after being defeated at the Coliseum. "With the two of us here no one will enter this place."
"I'm fine," Ken answered. Again they were looking at him as if he was far from fine, but let it go at that. For two weeks he had been in a coma, so he was told. Ken took their word for it, he remembered nothing of it. Not even the pain he had been in. He wouldn't even know about that if Wormmon hadn't accidentally mentioned it.
Someone had decided that his recovery was best helped without that bit of knowledge. Gennai most likely and maybe he had the right of it. Yet Ken couldn't help but feel disturbed that things of importance were kept from him. Knowing or not knowing he had been in pain was of no real concern, but he had to wonder what else – if anything – was being kept from him.
Suspicion was gnawing at him more and more; he even started to doubt Wormmon during the worst of his dark spells and he hated himself for it immediately after.
No one knew how he felt, if he was behaving oddly it was because of the trauma and the coma, but none of them was very comfortable with the cold front he now often projected. Truthfully neither was he, but it was hard to feel happy these days, very hard.
"But I think I will join the others now. I imagine they'll want to begin soon."
Without waiting for an answer Ken marched inside the cave, idly scratching at his neck. He was quick to reach the end of the cavern, a large chamber where it was as light as the outside under a midday sun. Near the far wall his partner, Gennai, Piccolomon, and Turuiemon were waiting near a sort of dais in the rock. Off to the side Bearmon was watching them all, not feeling as if he truly belonged there. Ken knew how that felt, but he wasn't sympathetic – digimon were digimon, and he was the only human there.
They were waiting for him to say goodbye to the friend Turuiemon had lain down on the plateau. At the sight of them his hand dropped back to his side, away from his neck, completely unaware. With slow steps he approached. No matter how softly he tried to walk the reverberation was loud in his ears, too loud in this time of silence.
The rock underneath V-mon was visible through his ghastly transparent body, dissolving into static at unpredictable intervals. No life seemed to stir inside of him anymore. Gennai said he still did, though his code was almost completely corrupted. Since his fall V-mon hadn't spoken a word, hadn't even come close to being conscious. The survivors of the coliseum had set a gruelling pace, at Piccolomon's directions, for Gennai. Part of Ken was glad for it; given how he looked V-mon had to be in tremendous pain were he awake. Maybe he was, even right now, and no one could tell.
"Are you all right?" Wormmon scuttled closer, but Ken waved him off. With some difficulty he managed to keep himself from scowling. His partner meant well, but the continued questions concerning his wellbeing were beginning to grate on him. He didn't mean anything by it, Ken thought vigorously, chanting it in his head like a mantra all the way to V-mon.
He was supposed to say something, but for the life of him he couldn't think of anything that seemed at all fitting. The others must have already said their goodbyes, however briefly. Wormmon's would be shy and soft-spoken, Turuiemon's stoic, and Gennai's…he couldn't imagine what Gennai might have said.
Ken swallowed. "You were a brave 'mon, I don't know how I can put it differently. You stuck with Ryo till the very end and I can't think of many who would except for the few of us here now." His voice turned hard. "It shouldn't have been this way, but you gave it your all. I think I can honestly say you were the best this world had to offer." The others nodded their assent. Ken was done; saying anymore came too close to thinking about Ryo. At least V-mon was still there, after a fashion, but of Ryo there had been no sign. He knew the others believed him to be dead and he had no way of refuting them. The final blast wasn't something a human could survive, or so he'd been told. And he knew just how much they'd been telling him.
Ken stepped back and nodded to Gennai. From the folds of his clothes the old man took out an odd shape. It was an egg, with a bright yellow and red motive of flames, with a horn sticking out. Gennai held it over V-mon. None but Gennai could know what to expect so they watched closely. V-mon and the egg glowed for a moment and then the egg became too heavy for the old man to hold. With a sound crash it struck the stone plateau and would've crushed V-mon had the fallen digimon still been there. All that remained in his place was the Digimental of Courage.
"Are you sure this is going to work?" Ken turned to Gennai.
"Sure? Who can be sure of anything with utmost certainty in this world?" Gennai shrugged at the stares aimed at him. His flippant demeanour didn't amuse them in the slightest. "I'm positive it will save his life, but as you can see he has degraded an awful lot. More than anything I have ever seen. Now, the Digimental will keep him safe and imprint some of its own essence onto him, replacing the parts of his body that have been damaged. In time, when the Digimental is lifted by the rightful Chosen his body will be restored to what it should be."
"His body," Turuiemon said thoughtfully, "You make a pretty fine distinction between 'him' and 'his body'."
"Yes, well, the damage is quite severe. Fixing up bodies is one thing, but the mind is something else altogether. If his memories are wiped, there is no way for anything, not even a Sovereign, to restore them. I don't think. Physically he'll be fine, but mentally I really can't tell. Everything, from his memories to his core personality, may be gone. He'd be like a newborn."
"So, the V-mon we know is dead," Ken surmised.
"It may be so, but keep holding on to hope young Ken," Gennai said. "Always hold on to hope."
Ken didn't seem to hear; with their business done he simply turned on his heels and stalked out.
Wormmon sighed, going after his partner slowly. He turned to Turuiemon, and asked the question that lay heavily on his mind. "So, what are you going to do now?"
For himself, now that the disruption between the two worlds was close to fixing itself, he had to come to grips with the truth. Soon Ken would go home, leaving him behind.
"We have made a promise to a lost friend and we will honour it. There's a murderer most foul on the loose out there and he must be found." Turuiemon shrugged. "After that, who knows, we'll continue to travel I suppose, doing what is right. With Ryo we learned the world is larger than we ever believed and full of digimon in need. It's the least we can do in Ryo's memory."
"Ryo's not dead," Ken said, his back still turned to them. "You all think he is, but I know he's not. Nothing can kill him. He's probably still on a great adventure."
"Ken," Turuiemon ventured slowly. Ken turned around and the look he gave them silenced anything Turuiemon was considering saying.
"I know there's no basis for any of it, but I believe it. He's the best Chosen there is, better than I could ever hope of being. As long as there's a Digital World there will be someone who needs Ryo's help, and he'll be there to give it. It doesn't matter how long he stays gone, I'll never believe he won't return. One day, you'll see, he'll be there, a new digimon on his side, saying 'Hey, wait up, Ken', and I'll know he's back. I believe this, so much, I need to believe it."
"Ken," Wormmon tried to say, but his partner had already run off. For his partner's sake, and perhaps for the whole world, he hoped Ryo would indeed return, and soon. Wormmon wondered, if Ken was right, where was Ryo now? He liked the picture Ken painted for them, another great adventure, now wasn't that nice?
The beast was formidable, its chitinous exoskeleton shining silver, transparent wings hidden underneath a protective layer of the exoskeleton. Large pincers held the strength to squash, or rend, or tear, almost anything the giant bug might encounter. Most opponents saw them as a danger only as long as the twin shears held you between them, but they could do a lot of damage by opening up, instead of clamping down, when embedded in the flesh of an enemy. Ryo knew this all to well, it was what he had used in battle with great success. For what he had in mind now though the beast was of little use.
With a flick of his fingers Kokuwamon's card fell on the pile of rejected cards on his desk. Most of those cards had served him well, but he was selecting them based on different rules now. Ryo grinned; he was selecting them based on rules now, when before he had the freedom to do whatever he wanted.
Before looking at the next card he looked over his room, as he had countless times already. If there was any difference, no matter how small, to his room back home – back in the primary reality, he amended, for now, this was home – he was yet to find a single flaw. His desk, his bed, his closets, his laptop, everything was there as it should.
And that was exactly the problem, the damned near-perfect similarity continued to feel wrong to him. The feeling was fading, slowly, but it was still there. Perhaps in time he could call this home. Even so, he left his laptop off, left every possible connection to the Digital World off.
"If that's so, why am I still hanging on to these cards?" Ryo muttered to himself. "But I can't slack off, not with you around, can I?" He looked at his bed and the egg wrapped in his sheets in such a way that he could see it, but for people entering his room it wouldn't be immediately noticeable.
Somewhere in the house his father was working. Since coming back the older man hadn't left the house. The ENIAC had brought him to a world where he had an existence, but where his counterpart had disappeared. It had been late when he had arrived at the house and met his father, and yet not his father.
Like everything else this world resembled his home world strongly. Yet there were differences, he thought while looking at a discarded phonebook. One of the first things he had done, after making peace with the father that was not his father, was to look up Ken's address. But there was no Ichijouji family in Tokyo, no Ken. On a whim he had tried to find any of the other Chosen, but they didn't exist here either.
He flicked another card to his discard pile and set the rest down. Picking up a piece of paper, an advertisement, he felt his heart race and wondered what was wrong with him. For so long he had tried to go back home, to get away from the fighting and the killing, but now that he was he longed for those days. He had never realized how boring and restricted – his father, understandably granted, didn't leave him out of his sight for very long – real life was compared to the Digital World.
He had been on a leash there, by Gennai, the Sovereigns, ENIAC, and even in a way by Millenniumon. Being made to fight for them, do their bidding. For the greater good, granted, even if he no longer quite saw the distinction between the two sides as clearly as before. And despite all that, he had never felt freer and with Millenniumon defeated and under his care the Digital World was open to him.
Ryo hadn't activated his laptop yet, not because he wanted so much to stay where he was but of fear that a gate wouldn't open for him. Or, that it did. "If I left I doubt I'll ever return."
So he looked at the leaflet in his hand, for a tournament called D-1. Digimon were known in this world, but as a game, a card game. How delightfully ironic, he had been tricked into the D-1 Tournament before and now he was entering voluntarily. So he flicked through his deck, making plans, devising strategies. Perhaps this tournament could sate the thirst for excitement.
"Ryo!" his father called out. "I'm going to get something to eat, you want anything?"
"Some Ramen will do," Ryo answered, considering. "Wait a moment, I'll come with you."
The Digital World had set his heart free and he found it hard to abide the cage of everyday life. He still had the egg to take care of though; so long as it was there he wouldn't go. But, once it was born, and a digimon, perhaps even him, was unleashed upon the Earth he might just have to disappear once again.
Slowly Osamu walked back to his room, a sense of guilt both driving his feet on as it did impede them. Perhaps he had been too harsh with his younger brother this time. Ken might step to mother and tell on him, but he was hardly worried about that. His mother and father were besotted with him, at what he could do. He was the pride of their family and wouldn't punish him. It couldn't be easy for Ken, he thought, always having to live in his shadow. He thought of that some times, not often, as other things continued to hold his attention, but he did think about it.
"He's just a kid," he said to himself. There was no care of being overheard; the two boys were home alone. And he did have a slight habit of talking to himself when he was alone, and even when he wasn't. It was a way of ordering his thoughts, reason through them. "I'll take him out to blow bubbles, he seems to enjoy that. One thing he is better at than I am, even if it is a worthless activity."
Pleased with himself he walked a bit faster, but as he neared the door to his room his spirits dropped. A bright light shone through the crack below the door, only for a second but it was unmistakable. That couldn't be as he had left his room darkened when he left. So, Ken hadn't listened to him after all. Angrily he stormed inside. How many times did he have to tell his brother to stay away from his stuff? Nothing he had was meant for children and some things could easily break.
For a moment he halted in the door opening, illuminating his room with the light from the hall. Everything seemed to be the way he left it; his computer was still on, the monitor on stand-by. The desk was undisturbed and none of the books in his closets seemed to be moved. Something had to have happened; he had not imagined the light. Finally he looked at his brother, standing not far from the desk. Ken didn't seem to notice him, looking downcast at the floor. Again he felt that moment of guilt of having treated him harshly, but then he noticed the device in Ken's hand. The one that had come from the computer, before he had put it in his desk drawer with explicit instructions that it had to be left alone, and it was in his brother's hand.
"Ken, what did I tell you about touching my things," Osamu said. Before he knew it he had his hands around Ken's arms, holding him a bit more roughly than he should. In his anger he hardly noticed how cold his brother felt to the touch. "You could've broken something, you could've got hurt! I'd be the one to blame for that, not you. What do you have to say for yourself? Why do you continue to break my trust? You have to learn some responsibility; you can't stay an ignorant child forever."
As if he just now realizing someone was there with him Ken raised his head. Whatever Osamu might've been thinking of was forgotten in that very instance. Little fazed Osamu, he could reason through everything – he thought he could reason through everything – but for the second time that day he was looking at something he couldn't understand. First that strange device, even now held in Ken's hand, and now his brother himself. He had never seen such cold indifference in anyone's eyes, let alone his brother's. Ken was looking at him as if he wasn't there.
Osamu only became aware his grip had slackened when Ken shrugged it off and went for the door. Mechanically Osamu turned to keep watch on Ken. Halfway out of the room Ken stopped and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. His brother hardly seemed aware he was doing it.
Abruptly Ken turned his head and the indifference had turned to anger. He was clutching the device in his hand so much Osamu thought it was going to break.
"What do you know?" he hissed. All of a sudden it seemed something clicked in Ken's head, showing Osamu a side of him he never knew was there. "I hate you brother, I wish you'd just disappear!"
Ken stormed out, leaving Osamu behind in a dazed crouch. He had warned Ken not to touch that device, in case it harmed him. Not only because he would be the one his parents blamed, but because he would blame himself. "What happened to you Ken?"
Afterword
It's hard to believe it's been six years since I started working on this – I certainly hadn't intended for it to take so long. For those reading since the beginning, I applaud your resilience. And to everyone, thank you for reading and I hope it was enjoyable.