When his father had finished, Daisuke laid there in his bed, face down, sobbing quietly. He was covered in a cold sweat, and was otherwise filthy, but he didn’t dare move. After his father left, he’d return to his usual hating-his-son mode. Daisuke was scared, terrified even, that Mr. Motomiya would beat him to the floor if he ever acknowledged the rapes.

Eventually, he managed to settle back into his sleep, but was still troubled by disturbing dreams. Every hour, it seemed, he’d wake up, still filthy, and it would take him another ten minutes to fall back to sleep. Eventually he decided to just get up and get dressed. It was about eight in the morning.

Daisuke sighed, and stepped into the shower, needing to wash the last night’s filth from his body, heavy thoughts on his mind. He tried not to think about his father, so instead, his mind fell on the second-most troubling thought. He couldn’t abandon Takeru for Miyako, not when he still had feelings for the blonde. Going out with Miyako would be like a rebound romance, not worth even having. And every time he thought of the blonde, he thought of the ‘rocking good times’ they’d had. Even his gut was telling him to stop Miyako before she made him go too far.

He was there for you, when no one else was.

But on the other hand, Takeru had slept with Hikari; whether he loved her or not didn’t seem to matter. His path now pointed directly towards Miyako, whether he liked it or not.

His mind was reeling. He needed more medication, to calm his nerves, to make him feel better. As he washed his hair, he could literally feel the medication calling to him; he needed it, and it knew.

He sighed, knowing that this would be like most other days.

Daisuke rubbed him wrist, and found that most of the pain had gone in the four hours he’d managed to sleep. He felt marginally better, however; he had a date with Miyako soon, though he didn’t exactly know when the date was-

It’s not a date, his voice told him. You can’t truly date someone if you’re in love with someone else.

But you are in love with her… you can feel it.

No you’re not… you’re gay. You can never forget him…

It was the classic ‘devil and angel on his shoulder’ argument. Daisuke paid neither any attention, and went about drying off like a mindless automaton, his mind on the night, and the years, before. He slid on his clothes, picked up the bottle, and put a pill down his mouth. He realized he looked like someone downing shots of tequila- or a drug addict.

But wasn’t he? He took his meds everyday, to cope with life. It was an anti-depressant, officially, but Daisuke felt like the people he met on the streets sometimes. It was a slightly unnerving fear, to think that he would some day end up like them.

Fortunately, Daisuke thought to himself, it was a fear, and nothing more. He looked at the clock in the kitchen, visible from this angle. It was already 9 o’clock, and Daisuke would have to call Miyako soon, but not so soon; he didn’t want to look desperate.

You feel desperate? Seems like an infatuation.

But it’s too real to be an infatuation.

He sighed, realizing that he was fighting with himself. Thinking about Miyako made him ready to face the day, despite how nearly everyone else made him feel. Despite how he made himself feel.

But what about Takeru? Takeru had acted, for the most part, like a friend the night before. At least, he’d tried. When he started talking, Daisuke had felt his mind lift from the world; it was that voice, combined with the blue eyes that had set him off in the first place.

But none of that mattered anymore. For some reason, when he thought of Takeru, he began to think about Miyako; when he thought about Miyako, he started thinking about the blonde. He was in another love triangle, and he knew it. He bet that Takeru knew how he felt about Miyako, and he wouldn’t like it, Hikari or no Hikari.

Daisuke picked up the phone, and dialed Miyako’s number. He needed to hear her voice. On the fourth ring, when he was just about to hang up, he heard Miyako.

“Moshi-Moshi?” she asked- his heart skipped a beat, hearing her voice. It was hard to believe he was merely infatuated. He just couldn’t believe it.

“Miyako? It’s me.”

“Daisuke! I’ve missed you. It’s been almost… 12 hours!” She chuckled. “You ready?”

“Meet in the park?”

“Sure. I’ll see you there in… twenty minutes?”

“Gotcha. Bye.”

“Bye, kun.” Miyako said huskily. The phone clicked on the other end. Hearing her say that, he perked up, but Daisuke couldn’t help feeling that something was awfully wrong.

He got ready, much quicker than he had to, and ended up watching television for a half hour before he had to go, finding some interesting anime. When he did get up, and leave, he locked the door, without caring to leave a note. They wouldn’t care; he knew as much. Just as long as he was home at night.

As he left the apartment, he turned and walked towards the park. It was only a few blocks away, and it didn’t take too long to get to. He walked into the community park and looked around. Despite the smog that hung high overhead, and the dull gray buildings that littered the horizon, Daisuke enjoyed this place; it was a refuge for him.

Daisuke would come here if he couldn’t retreat into the small, quite place in his mind, if he couldn’t rely on it’s safety. He sighed, knowing that he was often here or in his mind, disconnected from the rest of the world that he hated so much.

He reached a bench that wasn’t occupied, and sat down. Daisuke looked over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of a small rodent crawling up a tree.

Daisuke heard a faint rustling behind him, and wasn’t at all surprised when Miyako clamped her hands around his face, covering his eyes.

“Guess who,” she said laughing.

“You’re a real piece of work, Miyako,” Daisuke chuckled. Soon they were both laughing together, and Miyako removed her hands from his face and, sitting down beside him, placed them on his lap. That surprised Daisuke, but he didn’t mind in the least.

He smiled. “So, how was your night? Did you miss me?”

“Oh, it was lonely. My beds just oh-so big, too big for little Miyako,” she said, smiling a devilish smile.

Is she trying to get me in the sac?

You’d never get in her bed- you’re gay, and don’t you forget it.

Her hand moved around on his lap, massaging his legs and thighs.

“What about your night?” Miyako asked.

Daisuke stiffened. Miyako noticed, and immediately pulled her hand away. She looked at him, and looked very worried indeed. “What happened, Daisuke?”

“No, I-”

“Daisuke! What happened?” she demanded. Miyako looked in his eyes. “You can trust me.”

Tears formed in his eyes. He had the sudden feeling he’d forgotten his meds. “My- my father…” he croaked. Miyako stared at him.

“You have no idea what it’s like, Miyako, to have a father like mine…”

“What did he do?”

With that, Daisuke broke into a sob. He buried his face in his hands, and cried softly. Miyako didn’t know what to do; she pulled him into a hug, and squeezed him gently. “What did he do?” she asked again, quietly.

An awkward pause, broken only by his sniffles. When he did answer, it was in a whisper. “He- he molested me.”

Miyako sat there, not knowing what to do. At first, she couldn’t believe it, but after a moment of thought, it made perfect sense: the medication, the depression, the anxiety attacks. “Daisuke, is there anything I can do?” she asked in shock.

He sat there. “Wait here. I’ve got to go get something.”

“O-okay…” she said, as he ran off towards his home, leaving her in the park, sitting in shock. He lived maybe a few blocks away from the park, so it took him about five minutes to get to his building, and another five waiting in the elevator. He ran to his room, and, throwing several things around on the floor, he found the box he was looking for.

He tore out of the room, conscious that Miyako still was waiting for him—he hoped. He shut the door, ignoring the lock; he didn’t care enough to lock it. He was getting out of his life, and couldn’t wait. Mad ideas formed in his head; living somewhere else; not having to listen to his fathers ‘caring’ remarks at night when he raped Daisuke. Not having to deal with Mr. Fujikawa was a bonus, as was ignoring Takeru. He smiled a maniacal smile, knowing that in any other state of mind, he’d dismiss them as fantasies and delusions, nothing more.

You’re really going through with this? Moving out, leaving your one source of support? You can’t count on Miyako to take care of you; she has a life, and as much as you don’t want to believe it, you’re NOT a part of it.

But your family didn’t support you. And they certainly aren’t your only source of support. Remember your old friends?

Doesn’t matter about your old friends; none of them would leave their lives to join you there. You’re the only one with a pathetic life not worth having.

Daisuke paid no attention to the voices anymore; they were nothing more that ironic flies at which he couldn’t swat. He ran out of the apartment building, mowing over some guy in a suit without even noticing. Slight dew sparkled off the surroundings.

After a few minutes, Daisuke arrived back at the park, greeted by an annoyed looking Miyako. She looked at the box in his hand, and watched him open it.

“Daisuke, what is… that…” She stared. “Where did you get that?”

“I gave Gennai a fake,” Daisuke said with a smile. He held up his D-3 to his chest, and sighed, smiling.

“Daisuke? You look… rather glad. Not that that’s wrong,” she said quickly, “but what about your dad?”

“I’ve sort of gotten used to ignoring it. Thinking about him brings me down-”

“Daisuke!” She shook him. “You have to report him! You’re seventeen!”

“DON’T-” he yelled, then stopped, not wanting to speak so rough. “Don’t… interfere with my family. It’ll just bring you down, too.”

He sighed, knowing that his life had ruined another person’s day. Hoping to cheer her up, Daisuke changed the subject.

“Want to go to the Digiworld? No nosy waiters, no family… no distractions, just us…”

Miyako smiled. “I thought you’d never ask.” She wrapped her hand around his, and walked back to her place.

-Flash-

Daisuke and Miyako emerged from the television set, falling in a heap. It had been a while; nearly two years. Miyako fell on the soft grass on her back with her knees in the air; Daisuke landed on top of her, his head on hers, his thighs between hers. He looked at her, in an awkward silence. After a moment, he kissed her, and rolled off. He stood up, and pulled her up.

“You hentai,” Miyako commented. She brushed herself off, and noticed that she was wearing the same uniform she’d worn years ago, just larger to accommodate her growing figure and her larger bust. Daisuke wore his old costume; bigger, of course.

He looked at her nervously, not knowing what to do next. She looked back, and smiled; it was hard to remember why Daisuke had felt so bad earlier. He leaned over, and brought his lips to hers-

The D-3 went off, beeping it’s way into his consciousness. He sighed, and pulled away, looking at the screen. Someone, or something, was coming towards them; obviously a Digimon, but which type, Daisuke didn’t know. Miyako whimpered; and Daisuke realized that without Veemon, or Hawkmon, they were quite defenseless. She moved behind Daisuke, who unconsciously moved his arm out to shield her.

The bushes ahead ruffled; Daisuke was relieved to see that whatever it was, it wasn’t big-

A small, black lizard, eyes wide open, stepped out into the clearing.

-Not big at all. It reminded Daisuke of his own Veemon, but that it’s skin wasn’t blue, but black. It had a horn on it’s head; not a big one, though. It walked on two legs, and had a tail hanging behind it. It stared in astonishment at the two humans.

No wonder, Daisuke thought to himself, humans haven’t been here for years.

He looked from the rogue Digimon to his D-3, which instinctively switched from its compass mode to its data screen. “BlackVeemon,” Daisuke read out loud. He sighed. So close. “Viral type. Champion level.”

Miyako looked at the Digimon in a look of apprehension, still unsure if this one was friend or foe.

“Excuse me,” Daisuke asked the Digimon, “Do you know how to get to Primary Village-”

“You don’t know who I am, do you?” BlackVeemon interrupted, in a soft, wavering voice that sounded like all Veemon. Daisuke and Miyako shook their heads.

The black lizard placed a hand to his (His? Her?) face, and wiped a tear. Daisuke realized it was crying. It turned, and ran thought the bushes, a rustling sound following it.

“Wait! We can help you!” Daisuke called after it. “What’s wrong?”

The Digimon didn’t stop running. Daisuke sighed, and started after it, well aware that it could be some sort of trap, or ploy. He didn’t however, believe that he was being tricked; the BlackVeemon’s emotions seemed genuine.

The Digimon turned its head to look back at the kids; it didn’t see the tree root that ended its escape. He fell flat on his face, and kept crying, softly. Daisuke approached it carefully, despite the Digimon’s objections.

“Don’t look at me!” it cried. Daisuke stopped dead. Why would it say that?

“Who are you?” he asked quietly, to the panting Mon on the ground. The BlackVeemon stopped crying abruptly, and rolled over onto it’s back, staring at the kids.

“Don’t you recognize me? Am I that ugly?” BlackVeemon asked silently, breathing heavily.

Daisuke’s throat closed up. He couldn’t speak.

Could it really be him?

Miyako gasped. “Vee- Veemon? Is that you?”

Daisuke fell to his knees, and picked up his partner. Tears came down his cheeks; he paid them no attention. “Buddy?” His voice cracked. BlackVeemon nodded, as his friend squeezed him gently. Daisuke hugged him tightly, and cried softly, unknown levels of joy coursing through his body. For a split second, he forgot where he was, why he was there. All that mattered was that for once in his life, they were back together.

Soon, Daisuke’s vest, as well as BlackVeemon’s head, was covered in tears; neither cared. Miyako sat down beside the two and smiled, knowing that Daisuke needed something like this.

“What happened?” Daisuke asked finally, wiped the last tear from his cheek. “Why are you-”

“Viral? Black? I digivolved, Dai. I turned into the monster that I am now by accident.”

“What’s wrong with being Viral? Or being a BlackVeemon?” Miyako asked silently.

“Ever since BlackWargreymon, and BlackSeraphimon, Digimon have been looking down upon us… even Tailmon ignores me.”

“Our Tailmon?” Daisuke asked. BlackVeemon nodded, still enjoying his friend’s embrace. He sniffled at the memory or his first love. “Patamon had a field day, when we broke up.”

“When was that?” Daisuke asked with a special interest.

BlackVeemon looked up at him. “About one year ago. Ever since, I’ve felt less and less like a friend. Then, of course, he turned, realizing how vile we really are.”

Daisuke frowned.

“Has anyone else from our group turned Black?” Miyako inquired.

“BlackHawkmon, BlackWormmon, BlackArmadimon-”

“Wait. ALL our Digimon are Black Virals?” demanded Miyako.

BlackVeemon nodded slowly, snuggled up in Daisuke’s hold. Daisuke petted his head, and set him down on his feet. BlackVeemon sighed. “Come on. You’ll want to see, I guess. Come see why we are how we are.”

He turned around, and started off into the thick bushes. “Were are we going?” Daisuke asked.

“You’ll see,” BlackVeemon said with a shrug, leading them through the thicket. He pulled out a knife from a pocket Daisuke hadn’t even noticed, and slashed a bush in half, surprising Miyako and Daisuke with his speed. He looked at them, embarrassed, and kept walking, carefully avoiding the knotted roots sticky up from the ground. Soon, they reached a clearing.

A deep crater, aged with time, and smoothed with erosion. BlackVeemon sniffled, obviously being flooded with memories. Daisuke had never realized he could be so emotional. It’s like a side I’ve never seen before.

Of course, being separated from a friend could do that, Daisuke reasoned. And we’ve been separated for quite a while.

“This,” he said gravely, turning to his friends, “is- was Primary Village.”

Daisuke and Miyako stared in disbelief. “What happened?”

--Flashback--

Hawkmon and Veemon walked into the village, enjoying the summer air and the bright sun overhead. Wormmon, as well as Armadimon, walked behind them, chatting quietly about what they should do tomorrow.

Patamon and Tailmon were nowhere to be found. Veemon didn’t know where they were, but he could guess what they were doing. He sighed, feeling awful.

“Don’t worry, Veemon,” Hawkmon said soothingly. “She’ll come back; just you wait.”

Veemon gave a weak smile, and continued into the village. All of a sudden, he felt very hungry, so he turned to the eatery, delicious smells emanating from within.

A sudden motion, blurring the surroundings. Veemon stopped dead; his mind seemed to be racing faster than the rest of the world. For an instant, he thought he saw a blue bolt of electricity arc through the sky, for but an instant. A crash resounded through the air, but Veemon couldn’t hear it. All he noticed was the bright light that streaked past him, slamming into the building into which he would have just stepped in. He watched in slow motion as the tiles on the roof ripped off, followed by the rest of the roof, and the walls, everything, as a shock wave rippled through the restaurant like waves on a pond. The shards from the building barely missed the four Digimon observers. The building exploded in a wave of heat and light, a giant fireball that rose into the air, lighting the trees with red and orange light. The impact knocked the four Digimon off their feet, and sent them flying.

Veemon heard screams coming from within, followed by the whoosh of escaping data. His heart skipped a few beats before racing ahead twice as fast. He felt a surge of energy course through his body, a surge not felt in months. He got up, watching the fire spread, flooding the building with crimson light.

Veemon could feel his energy rising. He jumped into the air, before being enshrouded by a cloud of light. As his digital code began to scramble, he felt his arms lengthen, his legs lengthen; everything grew.

“Veemon, Digivolve to…”

The sphere of light exploded, somehow causing no damage. “…Exveemon!” And he appeared, a blue lizard, three times as tall as before. A giant scythe-like horn protruded from his head, while his tail grew as well. His legs and his arms lengthened, while his chest became more muscular. His overall proportions balanced out, and an aura of fire erupted from within, a sign of the fury he felt for whoever had attacked restaurant full of innocent Digimon. He looked around, as Ankylomon, Aquilamon, and Stingmon appeared, each landing on the ground with a soft thud.

“Fire Blast!”

Another rush of light, this time aimed at Exveemon. He spun around to counter, but was too late. A ball of fire hit him in the stomach, sending him flying into the burning pyre behind him. Aquilamon and Digmon moved in front of him to give him cover, while Stingmon flew up to attack. It was then that they got a clear view of their opponent; with a gasp from each, they recognized him as BlackSeraphimon, a flying, black bird the size of a house. Enormous wings sprouted over the village, while four incredibly strong legs dangled in the air below him. All of a sudden the fireballs seemed insignificant and weak.

“Vee Laser!” Exveemon shot a beam of energy at BlackSeraphimon, causing little damage.

“Spiking claw!” Stingmon shot forward, trying to slice BlackSeraphimon open, but his blade was deflected on the viral’s scales.

Exveemon and Stingmon looked at the bird, then at each other, and nodded.

“Exveemon…” He jumped into the air once more, encircled by a sphere of light.

“Stingmon…” Stingmon also jumped into the air, joining Exveemon.

“…Jogress Evolve to…” Their digital code began to mix, as their bodies became one.

“Paildramon!” A fighter Digimon emerged, a blue and green dragon with giant white wings and a mask covering its face. Twin blasters formed at its hips, ready to fire a stream of energy bullets into its next victim. He spoke with the combined voice of the two Digimon inside.

“BlackSeraphimon! Why have you destroyed the lives of so many innocent Digimon? What could they have possibly done to deserve this?”

The beast ignored them, instead deciding to attack the others. Aquilamon and Stingmon dodged fireball after fireball, which ended up destroying most of the village.

“Desperado Blaster!” Paildramon cried, sending bullets into the bird’s black scaly hide, barely causing more than an itch. More power was needed. Instinctively drawing on Daisuke and Ken’s combined energies, he felt himself transform once more, this time into ImperialDramon. But their energy was running low. Their partners were too far away. All it would take would be one more blast, and they would devolve back to their Child forms.

BlackSeraphimon watched them/him pant, and shot a fireball at them. They had overused their power, and they knew it. They felt the world slow down, as the ball of fire flew towards them, heating up their world, eventually breaking the bond between them. Stingmon and Exveemon separated, devolving to their Child forms, Veemon and Wormmon.

They looked around, wondering what to do, as Aquilamon and Ankylomon kept BlackSeraphimon busy. Veemon heard a scream, from one of the buildings. It was the nursery, and he stumbled over to try and rescue someone from the pyre.

A little Chikomon, Veemon’s first stage. Veemon felt a tear flow from his eye, as he stepped over the dead Digimon, trying to find the source of the cries for help. There, under the piece of metal. Veemon strained to lift it up, and pulled a Pycomon from the fire. The Pycomon stopped crying almost at once, and looked up at the tired blue lizard who held him.

“Will my mommy make it out alright?” he asked sadly, trembling slightly. Veemon tried to reassure the baby, though he doubted it.

“She’ll be fi-fine,” he said, choking back a sob, as Aquilamon dove in midair, trying to draw BlackSeraphimon’s fire. Veemon was almost blown over by the speed of the maneuver. He leaned over Pycomon, trying to protect it from the heat, making them as small a target as possible. The fur on his back singed as a ball of fire erupted in the already burning building from which he’d just rescued the Pycomon.

“You have to save my mommy!” the tiny bird said.

“Don’t worry. Your mo-mother will be just fi-fine. She’s far from here; she’s going to be fine.” A tear trickled down his cheek, landing on the Pycomon, young enough that he didn’t notice, and didn't know the truth.

A strange feeling came over Veemon, and he slowly set the Pycomon down as his body began to glow. He watched in a daze as his friends devolved, and began to glow as well. The BlackSeraphimon launched a final fireball, larger than the others, blowing a huge crater out of the burning remains of Primary Village, but it didn’t affect the shielded Veemon, or his friends. That was all he knew, and he blacked out, falling over the now dead Pycomon, burned, evaporated into data.

When Veemon, Wormmon, Hawkmon and Armadimon had awoken, they realized that they had turned a deep shade of black. They felt stronger, and less attracted to their partners. They had become Black.

--End Flashback--

“It was Hawkmon who noticed it first. Since then, we’ve been hiding out, trying to survive where we aren’t wanted.”

BlackVeemon ended his story with a sniffle. Daisuke and Miyako were both crying; the story had hit home in many ways. “After we woke up, we found others like us; others who had failed to save a single life in an emergency. We are despised, ignored, and shunted to the worst parts of the Digiworld.”

Miyako wiped a tear. “All because you weren’t strong enough?”

BlackVeemon nodded slowly. “At least, that’s why we think we’re black. It might just have been an accident, but… it doesn’t matter.”

He paused, looking a little edgy. “Do you want to see them?”

Daisuke nodded, still a little dazed from the moving story. He grasped Miyako’s hand, all of a sudden feeling as if he was days behind in his medication.

Wasn’t this supposed to be a good day?

Are you kidding? You haven’t had a good day since Takeru left you. This was just another straw.

Miyako walked ahead with a stoic visage, ignoring Daisuke’s attempts to cheer her up. She felt awful, and Daisuke knew it. Even he had a hard time getting the images of the looming danger that was BlackSeraphimon out of his head. He’d thought that BelialVamdemon was evil; BelialVamdemon had never gone near Primary Village.

Daisuke looked at BlackVeemon, who looked visibly shaken from having to repeat the worst part of his life again for them. Daisuke suddenly didn’t feel like making him take them… wherever they were going.

He’ll want to go back to his home and get some rest. But how do I ask him without making him seem like as charity case?

BlackVeemon sighed, and turned around, facing the two. “You don’t have to come. I’ll understand.”

“Why wouldn’t we want to come?” Miyako asked.

“It’s not going to be a family reunion, Miyako… BlackHawkmon isn’t in the best of moods right now.”

Daisuke thought for a moment. “What if… what if we came back tomorrow? Would it be better for you all?”

BlackVeemon nearly collapsed with relief. “Yes! I mean, yes, tomorrow would be great.”

Miyako frowned, but didn’t say anything. She knew something was up, that something wasn’t right.

“I’ll talk to BlackHawkmon and the others, and we’ll do what we can. I can’t promise you guys anything else, however.”

“Could we bring the others?” Miyako asked.

“As long as Hikari and Takeru don’t come. No one is on really good terms with those two right now.”

“When you say no one, who else do you mean?”

“I live in a community full of Black Virals, and nothing else. Angemon and Angewomon, as well as their partners, aren’t very well received there.”

Daisuke and Miyako nodded, and solemnly shook the Black Viral’s hand before turning around. They walked a few steps, before realizing something.

“BlackVeemon? Which way is the television set?” Daisuke asked to the receding figure.

“Keep going, you’re pointing right towards it.”

Then he was gone. Daisuke wouldn’t see him for the rest of the day. He felt very cold, and couldn’t bring himself to grab Miyako’s hand. The story had chilled him to the bone. That there was a Digimon so evil, so Viral, that he would destroy a village full of newborns and stranded travelers was beyond Daisuke.

Stop it, Daisuke. You need to finish your date-

It’s not a date!

Oh, shut up.

Daisuke grabbed his head. He had a killer headache, and it seemed like he had a massive hangover. The solution was obvious to him: He’d forgotten to take his meds. As soon as he got home, he’d feel better. Then he’d be able to go-

“Miyako?”

“Huh?”

“Where were we supposed to go today? After our lunch, I mean.” Daisuke looked at her.

She stopped. “We were going to go to the community pool, silly.”

“Silly? Silly? I’ll show you silly!”

“No thanks, Dai-kun.”

Dai-kun?

He stopped in front of the television set, which promptly displayed the view from inside Miyako’s room. He looked.

“No one. You ready?”

She nodded.

-Flash­-

Miyako landed on top of Daisuke this time, keeping her from feeling the awful rug burn Daisuke winced from. She kissed him, and rolled off. She looked around; feeling the familiar sensations of digital travel hit her for the second time in years. A sudden wave of jet lag hit her, and she stumbled down onto her bed, and sighed.

“Do you still want to go to the community pool?” Daisuke asked.

“Oh, ya, I’m just a little dazed.”

“Heavy shit, huh?”

She frowned. “Ya, I guess. I can’t believe that they would be so racist.”

“I know. But, it’s not our fight anymore. Whether we like it or not, it’s not for us to decide.”

She nodded. “I want to go swimming.”

Oh ya, Miyako in a bathing suit. It’ll be clingy in all the right places, Daisuke though to himself.

“I’ll meet you at your place, Daisuke?” she asked him coyly.

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Mi.”

He walked out the door, waved, and walked away. He heard the faint click behind him as the door closed, and leaned up against the wall.

What am I going to do? He asked himself. I can’t go out with her- It’ll never go anywhere. I probably can’t even have sex with her. I’m GAY!

So? It hasn’t stopped you yet.

Of course not. I haven’t been able to admit it- Oh… my… god.

He realized something he hadn’t before. Daisuke banged his head against the wall. The thumps resounded through the hallway. As he walked down the stairs, he saw- no, he knew, that he hat hit a speed bump, one worse than anything he’d faced so far. He was still in love with Takeru.

So why was he having those thoughts about Miyako?

He knew, of course, that he couldn’t not show up for his date, but he didn’t know what to do afterwards. Deciding to go home and change, he saw that he had some serious thinking ahead.

“But not now. Time for some swimming,” he said to himself.

He hit the elevator button and started the slow descent down the shaft, holding tightly onto the railing, lest he lose the floor again.

Getting out without incident, he walked on into the sunlight. The air was dry, and arid. He looked up, seeing the all-too familiar smog covering, hovering over the city like a blanket. He was glad he had a reason to go swimming, though he wished it wasn’t wrought with so many decisions.

The buildings towered over him, as he walked down the street. He passed a few homeless people, without even glancing at them; looking back, he realized that he was part of the problem.

But I don’t have any money. I can’t do anything for him.

He shook his head, knowing that thinking about other people’s misfortunes wasn’t a solution for his own. He had to deal with Miyako, and he had to do it soon. He could feel himself yearning for Takeru again.

Daisuke leans back, trying not to think about him. His hands knot themselves into Takeru’s hair.

Not that it’s hard to relax. Takeru’s a fucking god with his tongue. He hears something, it’s Takeru, but Daisuke can’t tell if he’s moaning or saying something. Doesn’t matter.

He bites his lip to keep from screaming as he feels something break. He doesn’t get a chance to warn Takeru; he doesn’t need one.

Daisuke shook his head. That birthday was months, years ago, he shouldn’t be thinking about that right then, he realized. But it was sooo hard to keep from…

Takeru smiled, dropped his robe, and slid into the Jacuzzi. The soft jets massaged Daisuke’s body all over; not to mention the feelings Takeru seemed to give off no matter what or how much or little he wore.

Takeru wrapped his hands around Daisuke’s chest and hugged him, massaged him, rubbed him. Soon his mouth was on Daisuke’s who groaned happily. Takeru hops on his lap unexpectedly, but Daisuke knew they were both horny and that he needed this and that he shouldn’t think, while Takeru, Daisuke’s god, Daisuke friend, Daisuke’s lover, let Daisuke’s cock enter-

Daisuke stood there, in the middle of the sidewalk, his mouth hanging open. He was in deep trouble. The mere thought of Takeru hit him hard, made him hard, made him think hard about forgiving Takeru.

But he slept with Hikari. He couldn’t have loved you-

But what if he does? What if he does? You can’t risk giving up before you talk to him.

… He’s right, you know.

Will you two shut up?

Daisuke shrugged off the thoughts as he walked into the apartment building, taking the elevator up to the ninth floor. He stepped out, conscious of the fact that he was now terrified of elevators, and walked down the hallway towards his room. He opened the door, without knocking; he knew no one would be home. Daisuke walked into his room, grabbed his swimming suit, went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. He grabbed a comb and his goggles, remembering the time were he'd worn a smaller, more battle-ready pair, during his adventures in the Digiworld. He sighed, knowing that those days were long gone.

Daisuke checked his pockets; a good thing, because he found that he was without money. He glanced towards the door, then towards his sister’s decorated, plush room, and smiled. Walking into the room, he saw the chest on her bedside table. He frowned; this room was a master bedroom compared to his. Reaching in, and grabbing a fistful of bills, Daisuke smiled slightly. If she kept whoring herself, she wouldn’t care about a few hundred yen.

Daisuke made his way to the family room and plopped himself down on the couch, relaxing. Miyako should be here soon, he thought. No need to hurry, he told himself. He flicked on the TV-

Knock. Knock. Someone was at the door already.

Did she run?

“Come in,” he called to the person. Nothing.

“I said, come in!” Still nothing.

Daisuke walked up to door, looked through the peephole, and saw- nothing. He opened the door, ‘case someone had knocked and ran. Stupid kids, he thought to himself. There was nobody. It was a Saturday; the hall was deserted. He looked around, when something caught his eye. A note; someone had left on his doorstep. He closed the door, opened the letter, and read: I’m still in love with you.

He looked at the back. Nothing. He read the letter over again. And again. Which took very little time, in fact.

Whoever’d left the note was a fast runner. No one was there. But who’d left it?

Can’t be Miyako, of course. But what about Takeru?

He doesn’t love you anymore, Daisuke; you know that.

Could be a prank, he thought to himself; wouldn’t be unlike Takeru. Plenty of other people hate me.

But Daisuke didn’t feel like dealing with that as well. He had enough to deal with, like feelings for Takeru, feelings for Miyako, feelings for both and feelings for neither. He grabbed his head. It felt like someone was pounding nails, or tap-dancing. The knocking was almost too intense-

Wait. Someone was knocking.

He shook his head. “Come in,” he called hopefully.

The door opened. In walked Miyako; looking like she owned the world. Apparently she felt better about everything; Daisuke hoped that BlackVeemon’s story hadn’t fazed her too much. It had affected him.

“He- hello, Miyako-chan.”

She smiled. Daisuke looked at her; she was wearing a long overcoat, and he managed to see that she was only wearing her two-piece swimming suit underneath.

“Oh no,” he feigned. “It’s Detective Hot-Whore!” He brought the back of his head to his forehead and pretended to faint.

She smacked him on the shoulder. “I am not a detective, dingus.”

Daisuke looked at the clock on the wall. It was only noon. So much had happened already. And it was only half time. She leaned in to kiss him, and he leaned in, forgetting about Takeru, forgetting the world, and kissed her. Just like he’d kissed Takeru before.

Damn it! Can’t I just kiss her without thinking of him?

You’ll never forget about him.

He’s right, the other voice agreed. You can never forget your first love-

Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!

He smiled at her for show. “Let me get something.”

She nodded. He walked into the bathroom, and took another pill, ignoring the awful taste. He couldn’t remember if he’d already had one or more that day, knowing full well that at the pace his life was going, it wouldn’t matter.

He walked out, grabbed his plastic bag full with his towel, his goggles, his suit. They walked out, and held hands as Daisuke mule-kicked the door shut, and walked slowly down the hall.

They left the building and headed in the direction opposite that of the park. It was about half an hour away, so they had time to talk. Neither felt like saying anything. Daisuke didn’t have anything to talk about; Miyako probably didn’t feel the need as she held onto his hand in a possessive manner.

Daisuke opened the door to the pool. As soon as they entered, they felt the slightly pleasant smell of chlorinated water. Miyako smiled. Daisuke looked towards the change rooms while he paid for them both.

He sighed. “I guess I’ll see you there.”

She looked at him as is he was an idiot. “Huh?”

“Well, I have to change, Miyako. You can’t go into the men’s room.”

“Watch me, Daisuke.”

She took his arm around hers, and leaned on him. The pool manager started to argue with her, but she defiantly raised her middle finger proud in the air. The heavy, slightly tempered woman stuttered, then raised her hands in the air in defeat.

Okay. Maybe she’s not too bad. But does she want to see me naked that badly?

That’s not the question. How badly do you want to see her?

Daisuke opened the change room door, and looked around. No one.

Whew.

He led her in uncertainly; should she really be in here? No matter. She slid off her overcoat, and Daisuke watched, and he wasn’t captivated or mesmerized. She stood with her hips slanted, her right foot slightly off the floor, her arms tight against her thighs. Her breasts had grown; her breasts had grown noticeably. Her hips were fuller.

So why wasn’t he turned on? Up until a few hours ago, he wasn’t even sure if he was gay.

So what’s changed?

It’s obvious. Takeru still loves you-

You don’t know that!

Thinking of Takeru made him hard. Miyako noticed, snapped out of her dainty feminine pose, and walked up to him, thrusting her hips to his. “You like what you see?” She asked, licking her lips.

Daisuke nodded, still thinking about Takeru, his hands in his hair, letting his god punish him, torture him, tease him, please him, in the ways that only Takeru could.

“You’ll have to wait, Daisuke.”

The pool wasn’t crowded, like Daisuke had thought it would be, like he’d hoped it would be.

Miyako and Daisuke both wore matching swim suits, to a degree; Miyako’s was a two piece blue bikini set that left little to the imagination; Daisuke’s was also blue, a pair of shorts that went down to his knees. She noticed he was still hard, and doing a bad job of hiding it. She smiled.

“Pool or Jacuzzi?”

Jacuzzi. Takeru’s Jacuzzi. His arms around my chest, his butt on my crotch, our clothes and our towels on the side, some empty beer cans-

“Jacuzzi. Definitely the Jacuzzi,” he muttered.

Despite it being a Saturday, the abnormally hot temperature was enough to keep most sane people out of the Jacuzzi.

Daisuke helped Miyako step into the warm water, turned on the jets, and stepped in. Miyako waited till he had flattened out the bubbles in his shorts, then leaned on him, looking around.

He gulped.

Don’t do it!

You can’t! You still love him-

I KNOW!!!

Miyako looked around, making sure that no one was watching or could even see them, then slipped off one of her shoulder straps, then the other.

“Mi- Miyako?”

“Don’t you want this?”

“I- I- I don’t-“

She pulled off her top, exposing her breasts, exposing the breasts he’d dreamed of, the breasts he feared. She looked at him, and leaned on him, flattened her breasts to his chest, and kissed him, and he didn’t stop her or lean back, and she let her breasts, her naked breasts push up against him, and her hard nipples tickled his chest, and she managed to pull off his shorts, and she acted like Takeru-

Stop.

“What?”

I don’t love you.

“…”

I love someone else.

“So?”

I can’t ever love you…

“… So?”

She pulled down her bottom piece, and lifted herself onto Daisuke, doing a quick check to make sure that they were alone still, but they were on a raised platform-

She settled down on him, feeling his hard, indifferent cock push into her. A diver tripped on his on feet as he watched her breasts bounce up and down to a steady yet slow rhythm, and belly flopped.

Miyako didn’t care. Daisuke didn’t notice. He was too busy trying to figure out why she was still doing him, he loved someone else, and he couldn’t tell why she was still impaling herself, reaming herself-

She turned her upper body, no small feat, and she kissed him, and she kissed him, again, and again, and again. And he couldn’t, didn’t manage to stop her.

It was dead quiet. The hum of the jets, their breaths, the splash of the kids, the “Whees” from the children on the slides, all he heard was his heart beating in sync to her own.

He felt the pressure rising; a river dammed improperly, rising and ready to burst, and still she kissed him, and he couldn’t hold on.

…Game over.

…You lose.

Both voices agreed. Daisuke let go, moaning loudly.