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Song to the Sane

Chapter Text

The room was filled with dim light so that one could only narrowly see the outlines of the interior. There wasn’t much inside the room, anyway: a drawer and a desk and that was about it.

Of course, the most important part of the interior was the chair in the middle of the room. And on that chair, there sat a person.
A boy with messy brown hair.

If it wasn’t for the shallow breathing one wouldn’t have noticed that said boy was alive.

He didn’t care about the dim light because he couldn’t see, anyway. A black cloth covered his eyes. He didn’t move, either, because his wrists and ankles were carefully tied to the chair with a thick rope.

There was half-dried blood on his bare chest and if you looked closely enough you could see the wounds underneath. They formed a word. A name.


Who is that, you ask? That is the boy’s best friend. Was his best friend. Because Yamato Ishida wanted to be more.

The blood could be washed away, but the scars would always be visible both on the boy’s body and mind.

Taichi Yagami would never be free again.

Chapter Text

With every event of this day taken into consideration, Takeru Takaishi was surprisingly satisfied with himself.

It had been a Saturday, and it had not started like any usual, boring Saturday.

He had woken up because of a call from Hikari who, sounding slightly annoyed at the fact that he had still been asleep (which was rather unusual for him), informed him that they would meet up with the other digidestined in the park at twelve.

Still half asleep, he had failed to fake any excitement for this plan. Meeting with the others included meeting with Daisuke, and he didn’t want to meet Daisuke. But Hikari had insisted on it, so he agreed to come.

It would have been better if he hadn’t agreed. For Daisuke, that is.

When Takeru arrived at the park, everyone had been there – except one certain boy named Daisuke Motomiya. He had been late of course, but when he finally did arrive, he promptly started to flirt with Hikari, and that always annoyed Takeru. With no Taichi present to keep the boy away from his little sister, he had no other choice than to watch.
This had gone on the whole afternoon. Their goggle-wearing “leader” had tried to impress Hikari, and Takeru had watched with clenched fists and asking himself why he couldn’t be the one Daisuke looked at with love and admiration in his eyes.
Other persons would feel jealous and sad about this, but Takeru felt angry.
He didn’t hold any disdain for Hikari, the girl he basically saw like a sister. After all, she didn’t return the brunet’s feelings and she couldn’t do anything about the situation, either.
But for Daisuke...

Takeru had ended up with so much bottled up rage that he secretly followed Daisuke after the meeting. In fact, he had cornered him behind their school’s gym which the brunet boy had to pass in order to get home. And in one giant fit of rage, every secret about Takeru’s feelings for him was gone. But that still didn’t soothe the blond, because Daisuke, being the insensitive and brash person he is, had tried to fight him.

Only the now-gone Digimon Kaiser had known how much raw power Takeru could produce when angered. Daisuke didn’t know, and he didn’t stand a chance against that rage. Takeru had him in a helpless position pretty fast.

First the brunet had screamed and cursed at him, but then he had sobbed.
It had been intoxicating; seeing all the strength fading from his body.

Now he lay on the bed in a room foreign to him, still unconscious. The owner of said room felt no remorse. His anger still hadn’t faded completely and only much later he would realize the full consequences of his actions.

No, all in all Takeru Takaishi was satisfied with this day.

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Trembling hands gripped the bedsheets tightly. The light falling through the now opened door illuminated the anxious face of the brunet boy sitting on the bed. There in the doorframe stood his best friend…
Could he still refer to him as that?

Jenrya Lee switched the light on and shut the door behind him. He approached the other boy with careful steps and set the bowl of ramen he was holding down on the bedside table.

“Why do you still sit around in the dark? Isn’t that uncomfortable?” the half-Chinese boy asked the other.

When the brunet didn’t react, Jenrya sighed and stepped back to the door. He looked back over his shoulder with a slightly worried expression. “I brought your food. Be sure to eat it this time.” Then he left the room and closed the door.

Takato Matsuda didn’t spare the bowl or its steaming content one look. Instead he stared at the door his friend left through.
Only this obstacle seemed to keep him from being free. It wasn’t even locked. Jen never locked it.

Takato was his prisoner anyway.

He would never leave. The option was there, but it scared the boy. Jenrya needed him. He was never the same after the Digimons’ departure.

Jen needed him.

He needed Jen.

Takato needed somebody to love him.
Jen needed somebody who would never leave him.

Still trembling, the brunet stumbled towards the light switch and let the room be engulfed in darkness once again.

Now he couldn’t see a way to escape. Now he couldn’t run away.
And maybe, if he tried hard enough, he wouldn’t even think about it.

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A choked sob was to be heard as four hands claimed their possession.

The lap the victim was sitting on and one of the pair of hands belonged to the boy whose touches were feral and demanding and seemed to burn the skin of the helpless, restrained brunet. The other two hands belonged to a boy who seemed to be the first one’s mirror image: the same stature, the same face, the same raven hair. But where the eyes of the first twin – because that is what they were – held a hard and icy look, the second showed warmth and care in them.

But even they had one thing in common: they both seemed to hold a deep sadness. The almost feathery touches of the second twin seemed to scream “forgive us” in all their gentleness. And the first brother’s emitted a desperation that didn’t come from the oh-so sinful situation they could be caught in.

“Please… Stop this”, the brunet between them begged.

The first twin shifted him from his lap with a surprising amount of gentleness and stood up so that both raven-haired twin brothers were facing the third person in the room.

Koichi Kimura, kind and gentle warrior of darkness and inheritor of the lion spirits, carefully lowered himself to eye level with their captive.
“Your determination and support helped me to accept the darkness in my soul as a part of me, just like the fire is a part of you. I couldn’t help falling in love with you, but I’m going to accept this part of myself, too. Please, don’t abandon us.”

Koji Minamoto, the icy-eyed warrior of light and carrier of the wolf spirits, put his hand under the brunette’s chin and carefully lifted it up so that their eyes met.
“Your warmth and acceptance saved me from the isolation I put myself in. Your fire melted my heart. Please continue to accept me for who I am. Please, don’t leave us.”

And Takuya Kanbara, the warrior of fire, the dragon, the leader, started to cry.

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When the blonde genius came home from his work and entered his room, he was met with angry rattling of metal and glares from olive-coloured eyes.

Those eyes belonged to the person bound to the bedframe with steel chains. Ropes wouldn’t have done it. That boy had done more incredible wonders than breaking free from measly ropes.

The genius would usually sit down on the chair in the corner. He would just sit there and stare at the other boy.
Watch him. Study him.

The object of his interest often tried to break free from the chains, but to no avail. A gag muffled his complaints, and so he was stuck with glaring back.

Touma H. Norstein was fascinated with those olive eyes.
He could handle the glares and the rage. He was used to it.

But there were also the days when he would just switch the lights off and go to bed shortly after coming home (the sounds the other boy made never bothered him). Days like that were always the days when those eyes would hold something else than anger:


Touma couldn’t stand seeing this emotion. Oh, he remembered the situation at the harbour during the battle with Kurata like it was yesterday. He had also betrayed the other on that day. His best friend. And his only close friend, to be honest, at least since Gaomon left.

But he had an excuse back then. He just wanted to save his sister.
Today he hasn’t got an excuse for his actions.
‘Masaru has a little sister, too’, he thought and with a sudden and hefty movement that made his captive flinch, he stood up from his chair.
‘I separated them. It’s my fault.’

Suddenly, he couldn’t look the other in the eye anymore.
He switched the lights off and went to bed.

At the foot end of his bed, Masaru Daimon leaned his head back and asked himself how it had come this far.

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The blonde boy stared at the crouched body lying on the floor. A grim feeling of satisfaction rose inside him as he saw the thin, red line flowing out of the beaten boy’s mouth.

A desperate voice called out to him. “Why? Kiriha, this… isn’t like you!” The boy coughed and tried to shuffle into a more comfortable position. That wasn’t easy with hands and feet tied together firmly, though. Big grey eyes glanced upwards, expecting another kick to the stomach.

That kick swiftly came.

The brunet coughed and hacked and curled up in pain. Kiriha Aonuma bent down and roughly gripped the boy’s head by a strand of his tousled brown hair, causing him to supress a whimper.

“You’re right. Normally I wouldn’t do this. Dealing with weaklings like you is just far below me.” He moved his head closer so he could whisper into the brunet’s ear.

“But this is different. I love you, Taiki Kudou. And I definitely won’t forgive you for making me feel weak.”

Chapter Text

“I wonder what Taiki would say if he saw you like this.”
Hearing this, the other gritted his teeth. “Taiki… would…” He paused, having a desperate look in his eyes.

“You know it, don’t you? Yes, he would definitely save you. He still can’t turn his back on anyone, right?”
The blond chuckled. “But what would he think of you? You can’t look after yourself. You will never surpass him.”

“That’s wrong! I will become a superstar! And I will get out of here! Listen to me; it isn’t right what you are doing. What happened to you? Let me help…!”

There was it again. That determination and willpower that could force any opponent to their knees.

But that wasn’t the case for Yuu Amano, because Tagiru didn’t see him as an opponent. He, in his endless trust and loyalty, still saw him as a friend after everything he had done. Even though he had tied him to a chair and locked him up and refused to let him go.

Sometimes Yuu imagined Damemon and what he would say about this situation. But then he also remembered what he despised Tagiru for.

'Damemon isn’t here. It’s my fault. I suffer, and the others go on with their lifes. Taiki notices, but he can’t help me. The only one able to help me is sitting here before me and still does not get it… He doesn’t get how much pain he is causing me when I see him being happy with Gumdramon…
...and without me.'

But regardless of what was happening: Tagiru Akashi would never break. He would always stand up again and start anew without any remorse.

Yuu wished that he could say the same thing about himself.

Chapter Text

Originally, it had just been a fleeting idea in his head. A thought he considered for a moment and then let pass, reprimanding himself about having thought of it in the first place.
But he saw what happened to Haru. He saw it every day he visited; the tears, the tortured looks, even the total breakdowns. It took a toll on both of them. Haru looked more and more miserable with every passing day and it wore him down.
And that’s why the fleeting idea that had started to cross his thoughts more often recently had finally taken root in his mind. So what if it wouldn’t work? So what if it was a terrible idea? He had attempted many reckless things in his life. And he was willing to go great lengths to free Haru of the memories that plagued him.

He took Haru to the Deep Web with him. He had been to the Kowloon more often than he had cared to count, and he knew just the right place for them to stay undiscovered. The Kowloon was all about anonymity, after all. Haru had accompanied him willingly; the boy had no idea what was going on. Even if he had, he probably didn’t have the mind to care about it.
He sat Haru down and began working. His idea still sounded crazy to him, but after some testing and prodding into the fabric of the web he realized that the whole thing would be easier than he thought. Here, in the depths of the internet, everything consisted of data. Humans consisted of data. Their brains consisted of data. So why would memories be much different than simple information on a hard drive? And if he had ever been good at anything, then it was withdrawing and changing information.
He had to work carefully, with surgical precision. The destructive memories were found quickly. They were so prominent that it was dangerous to remove them, but he wouldn’t step back now. The painful memories of Yuujin were what tormented Haru so much that it reduced him to a mental wreck, so they needed to go.
In the end, it had been far too easy. Haru exuded a calm he hadn’t shown for a long, long time. He didn’t talk much anymore. Maybe the removed memories were too significant; or maybe he hadn’t been careful enough. Nevertheless, he still would take this Haru over the crying, suffering one any day.
It might have been hubris, but his successful experiment got him thinking. Haru sat silently, staring at him.

He made him stop being silent. A quick command entered with nimble fingers, and the other boy’s lips curled around a word.
“Rei,” he made him say. And a second time. And again. And again.
“Rei. Rei. Rei. Rei. Rei…”
Rei was breathing heavily. He walked over to Haru and embraced him.
“There. It’s all fine now.”
No answer came, but that was okay. Rei knew what he wanted the other to say.

“I love you, Rei.”

Chapter Text

It was like an unwritten rule that everywhere Haru Shinkai went, his best friend wouldn’t be far away. Everybody who knew Haru was aware of this.

To Yuujin Oozora, the best friend in question, it wasn’t a rule. He felt it to be more of a law; something that dictated his whole being. It wasn’t unwritten, either. Instead, it was scrawled across pages over pages of the journal he hid under stacks of blank paper in the lowest drawer of his writing desk. It wasn’t written there directly, but the law was the foundation for every sentence banned onto the pages with a ballpoint pen:

'As long as I exist, nothing will happen to Haru.'

Yuujin lived by that promise. He was proud to be Haru’s protector; to be the last unbreakable shield between him and the rest of this merciless world. Haru was the centre of Yuujin’s world, he was what motivated him every day and he was the focal point of his life.

He couldn’t allow anything bad to happen to Haru.

One time, when both of them had already been friends for about two years, some upperclassmen decided they didn’t like Haru. Studious, quiet Haru. Or maybe they just wanted to feel powerful by pushing around those who wouldn’t resist; it didn’t matter. They laughed at Haru from afar, bumped into him in the hallways as if on accident and sent all of his books sprawling to the floor. It had taken Yuujin some time to get the reason his friend always looked so uneasy and anxious when they were heading to school together out of him…

'Human bones break so easily,' stood in the journal.

As mentioned: It was a known fact that wherever Haru went, Yuujin wasn’t far away.
Yuujin liked to keep an eye on Haru. And maybe on people Haru got too close to. Or rather, people that got too close to Haru. Most other people were selfish and cruel, so they didn’t deserve to even look at his best friend.

It didn’t take too much effort, most of the time. People usually decided that talking to the nice, but quiet kid wasn’t worth facing the threat of Yuujin Oozora.

Haru didn’t have a problem with people not talking to him. That was one of the great things about him, really. Along with the fact that he listened to Yuujin. And the fact that he could sleep so peacefully next to Yuujin while the latter watched him breathe.

As long as Yuujin Oozora existed, nothing would happen to Haru.