Oookay…You guys are going to think I've lost it. But this has been bugging me for ages, especially this last week, so I finally decided to write it down and post it already. The way this story works, it's impossible to tell how many chapters it'll have, or even which point of view the chapters will be in half of the time. All I know is that this is so not for little kids. The reason I had to write it down is because it was almost psychologically damaging to me. So I'll try to post warnings and POV before each chapter, but just remember that I have warned you. It's rated M for a reason.

WARNINGS: This chapter contains kidnap, homosexual statutory rape, the sexual humiliation of a teenage boy, mention of attempted suicide and a slight disturbing fetish involving a French maid's outfit. And this is just the first chapter.

POV: Hiroaki Kanbara (you'll see)

Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon or anything related to it. Don't sue me, I think I need the money for therapy.

Account of Abduction

Chapter 1: Rescue Party

I'm not particularly fond of fancy-dress parties. I never really have been, but as a public official, I don't have a lot of choice but to attend one every now and then.

"Inspector Kanbara!" A voice called as a sudden hand clapped me on the back with force enough to make me spill some of the annoyingly fizzy drink I was holding. "Nice to see you got a little time off for some fun, huh?"

I grinned, even though I didn't feel like it. "Good to see you as well… Kinomoto-san." I coughed, regained my composure, and adjusted my tie as I straightened. "Unfortunately, I'm simply here representing Commander Ikawa. He had to work tonight."

Kinomoto-san grinned, looking vaguely drunk, which is why I assumed he would pat me on the back like an old friend. We've met once or twice, through community gatherings such as this, but you wouldn't call us close. Officers of the Law rarely develop friendships with high-ranking business men.

"Good, good." He chuckled, taking a long swig of the glass in his hand. "Means all the more fun for you, eh? Man, Koukon sure knows how to throw a party!"

Higure Koukon-san was the young host of this little 'soiree', as he called it, and a most interesting fellow indeed. Barely twenty-six, he was already one of the wealthiest people in the city. A tall, thin, foreign-looking young man with a perminantly stretched look, Koukon-san had long, stringy blonde hair and piercing reddish-brown eyes. He had aquired a small fan club of young ladies very quickly, all attracted to his exotically good looks.

I only remembered him well because he had attempted suicide barely a year ago, something about the strain of running the company inherited from his father being too much. He was in a coma for several weeks after his overdose, rising again to recover at a remarkable fast pace. He soon became a regular party hound, throwing extravagant feasts such as this one and inviting every person who might have held a shred of importance in the city.

"And his staff's not so bad lookin' neither." Laughed Kinomoto again, his eyes focused blurrily on a young woman serving cocktails not far away.

One of the things that bothered me about these parties, especially Koukon's, was the age of the staff. The girls scattered throughout the room looked extremely young, some not that much above legal age, and all were wearing the sort of black, lacy dress of a French maid, their faces hidden by black velvet masks. Why, I'd seen one not long ago, much smaller than the others with short-cropped, dark hair, who didn't look much older than 16. But even Koukon would know better than to staff his occasions with under-aged girls…

Kinomoto-san laughed drunkenly again. "But I tell yah, yeh look like hell. Maybe you should consider switching professions? All the suicide kid cases must be gettin' to yeh…"

As politely as I could, I detached myself from Kinomoto-san and made my way gratefully back into the babbling crowd of strangers. His words annoyed me strangely… especially as it drew my thoughts to a certain case that has been weighing on my mind for a while.

Not that every case doesn't weigh on your mind, it does. My department is missing children, and it's filled with runaways and suicides trying desperately to escape the pressure of entrance exams. Especially when you have children of your own, the thought of anything happening to those kids who run can keep you awake at night.

But this most recent case hit almost too close to home…The missing person was one of my son, Takuya's, closest friends.

The boy's name was Kouichi Kimura. He was one of the group of friends Takuya had made rather suddenly about two years previously. I'd met Kimura-kun before, as they group often came to our house, sometimes for dinner, and occationally to a few to sleep over. I remembered Kimura-kun as being a shy, modest boy with a gentle disposition and a great dislike of horror movies. He had an identical twin, Kouji Minamoto-kun, who acted as a kind of mediator for him, the two possibly being Takuya's very closest friends.

Kimura-kun had disappeared three weeks earlier, vanishing without a trace on his way home from school one particularly overcast and rainy Thursday. He was a calm, dependable kid, decent B+ average, responsible. He lived with only his mother, who was chronically ill, and made an effort to take very good care of her. He even took on part-time jobs and did the shopping twice a week. He wasn't the kind of kid to run away from home.

Unfortunately, the options that left us with weren't very good ones. Kidnapping, exploitation…even murder. His mother's health was breaking down from worry, his brother was becoming increasingly more violent as time went by, and Takuya hadn't really spoken much in the past week. And with my son, that's saying something.

Pressed now to the edge of the party, something caught my eye…or rather, my ear. There was a hall stretching outward from the main room, thin, small and too, well…quiet. As an officer of the law, I'm naturally enough trained to notice anything out of the ordinary. And if there's one thing out of the ordinary at a fancy-dress party, it's part of the host's mansion that they aren't eager to show off to their high-class guests.

I really don't have an explanation for what I did next. Respectably, I have to say that my officer's intuition picked up that something was wrong, and my sense of duty had to act on it.

The truth is, I'm actually no more controlled that Takuya. Especially when I'm bored. Or curious. Or both.

At first sight the hallway was long, thin and dark. Once you stepped in, however, it was long, thin and extremely dark, but I could now see faint beams of light peeping out from the cracks around and under some of the doors. One door, at the end of the hall, was cracked open slightly, filled with soft, 'natural' blue lighting. The only noise on this entire hall was coming from inside, soft sobbing.

Naturally enough, I had a look. I recognized the girl inside instantly…she was the young maid I had noticed before, the one who didn't seam old enough to be serving liquor. She seamed even younger now, so small and delicate, seeing her up close she couldn't have been more than 15. I made a mental note to have Koukon looked into back at the station.

The girl was on the floor in the middle of the room, sobbing, her face buried in the mattress of a small bed. She was still dressed in her 'uniform', that is, a black dress that covered most everything except the legs, with white trim and apron. She wore black leggings beneath the dress, rather than hose, and had on black tennis shoes meant for such things as school dance teams. Lying next to her on the bed was the feathered black half-mask each of the girls had worn, as well as the white ribbon that had previously adorned her short, dark hair.

I couldn't stand to see such a sweet little girl cry, so I slipped in quietly, closing the door behind me, and made my way over to knell next to her. I placed a hand on my shoulder and gave her my gentlest dealing-with-a-young-trauma-victim smile. "Is something wrong, young lady?"

She jumped a bit an looked up, after which it took several long moments for my mind to assimilate the new information.

She was a boy.

And not just any boy. I recognized him instantly, his almost femininely heart-shaped face, soft gaze and doe-like blue eyes, even though one of them was slightly puffy and blackened. There was no mistaking him.

"K…Kimura-kun!" I gasped once my senses had realigned.

"Kanbara-san?" He stared at me a moment, eyes watering, then snapped his head away in shame, looking down at his current state of attire with embaressment.

I took him by the shoulder, making him look at me. "Kimura-kun, what are you doing here?" I whispered urgently, trying to keep my grip gentle. "How long have you been here? We've looked everywhere for you, your mother is worried sick!"

"Mama?" His eyes snapped up at that comment, still teary. Small, thin hands grasped the sleeve of my coat. "Is she all right? She's not sick again, is she? Please tell me she's all right, I don't want her to…"

"Easy, easy." I soothed, letting my hands slide down to his elbows instead. There was a bruise, and a rather large one at that, peaking out from under his black collar. I wondered how many more were hidden across his skin.

Naturally enough, I also wondered what exactly he was doing in that dress, but something told me it wouldn't be good to ask. Kimura-kun was an unbelievably shy boy, and very modest, the last person you'd ever list as being a cross-dresser…Unless…

"Did Koukon bring you here?" I asked seriously. "Is he threatening you? Hurting you?"

He started shaking. I took that as a 'Yes' and put an arm around him again, letting him dissolve forward to cry into my shoulder. He seamed thinner and weaker than I remembered him being. His hands clutched the cloth of my shirt like a tiny child, thankful for the appearance of a familiar face, however distant.

My mind was already putting the charges we could bring down on Koukon's head. Kidnapping. Holding a minor against his will. From the looks of his body and bruises, definite physical abuse and maybe even…god forbid…sexual abuse, or worse, rape.

The first thing that blasted into my mind was "That bastard will pay for this."

The second thing was much more reasonable, but just as infuriating: "Not if we don't do it right."

"Kimura-kun." I whispered softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I'm going to have to go now."

"No!" He exclaimed, latching on to me again and looking up. "Please, Kanbara-san, don't leave me here with him again! I can't take it anymore, please…"

"Kimura-kun." I silenced him gently, putting a finger to his lips. "Listen to me. I know you're upset, and I know you're scared. But we can't do anything now."


"Listen." I stressed, leaning forward a bit. "Do you want this bastard to get away with what he's done to you?" He shook his head hesitantly. "Do you want him to go free so he can do this again, to somebody else?" Another shake of the head, more intense this time. "Then you have to be patient. If I take you now, he'll get off on a technicality. You have to be patient, all right?"

He nodded, biting his lip. "I…I guess…"

"Don't worry." I soothed, standing. He held on to my wrists, as though afraid to let go. Maybe he was. "I'll come back for you, I promise. We'll take you home to your mother, to your brother, to everyone. All right?"

He whimpered softly, but let go. "All…All right."

I tried to give him the most supporting look I could, then made my way back up the long, thin hall and out the front doors.

( - ) ( - ) ( - )

Police Chief Ikawa jumped a foot when I stormed into his office, spilling the remains of a Starbucks Frapachino across his desk. He glared at me as he hurried to clean up the mess. "Kanbara. I thought you were going to represent me at Koukon-san's festivities this evening."

I didn't have time for an explanation. I just slammed my hands down on his desk and looked the old man straight in the eye. "I found Kimura-kun."

Chief Ikawa stared at me a moment. "What?"

"Kimura-kun. Kouichi Kimura." I spelled out slowly. "I. Found. Him."

It took only a few moments to tell the story, but it wouldn't have taken so long if I could have convinced the stubborn old man sooner. He just didn't want to believe that 'Koukon-san' could actually be a kidnapper, let alone a child molester who forced teenage boys to crossdress as French maids.

"It doesn't make sense, Kanbara." He tried to reason. "How would Koukon even know Kimura? They're from two different social classes! The only reason I can think for a man of Koukon's level to do such a thing is if he became infatuated with the boy, but since they could never have met…"

Glancing at my watch, I growled softly. It was almost eleven PM. I'd left the party at ten, and it was supposed to have wrapped up around ten thirty. If we didn't get to Kimura-kun soon, I didn't want to think what could happen…

"Look!" I insisted, slamming my hands down and knocking over his frapachino again. "I spoke with him, I know it was Kimura-kun! He's a close friend of my son, and I promised to get him out of there tonight. So sign the damn warrant or so help me…"

"All right, all right." Ikawa raised his hands with a nervous sigh, pulling out the proper form from his desk. He filled everything out with a blue pen, not quite looking at me. "Take the third division, they're the one with the most people on call tonight…"

"Yes, sir." I sighed, straightening and saluting somewhat.

Chief Ikawa unlocked a smaller drawer, removing his seal from inside. He padded it in the ink and stamped the form silently before handing it to me. "…I really hope you know what you're doing, Kanbara."

"Trust me, sir. I do."

( - ) ( - ) ( - )

Somewhere growing close to eleven forty-five, our battalion of nine cops arrived at Koukon's front door. The guests had left, and most of the mansion was dark…but we had the warrant, and I knew what was waiting inside, so I stormed up to the door and rang the bell.

When five minutes passed and he didn't answer, I rang again, then pounded on the door with my fist. "Koukon-san! This is Inspector Kanbara of the Thirty-Fourth precinct! We have a warrant to search your premises. Please open the door."

There was still no answer. I motioned to one of the Sergeants, who produced a lock pick…sometimes it's necessary, especially in emergency situations. Anyway, he broke the lock within two minutes, setting off every alarm in the place, but since they're connected to the police station anyway, it didn't really matter.

The huge house seamed practically empty. No one was around, and no one appeared even as the officers spread out, turning on all lights and opening every door as they went. The whole place was…empty?

One of the officers reached for his gun nervously. "Something's not right here, Inspector." He muttered softly. "A house this big, and no staff? Something's wrong, something's very wrong."

My blood ran cold. Following my first instinct, I raced to the dark, thin hall and threw open the door where I had found Kouichi earlier. But the room, like the rest of the house, was empty save for the black feather mask that had hidden the boy's features from the rest of the party.

No…Kouichi-kun, he couldn't be gone. I promised him…I promised

A light caught my eye. No…yes! There, at the very end of the hall, a door was barely cracked open, and every now and then a light flashed out. Like a…a lamp that was being covered by something.

I drew my gun and stomped down the hall, a couple of the more experienced cops mirroring my movements just behind me. I didn't like the sounds that we coming from that room…as we got closer, I could hear them. Crying, whimpering, mumbling and whispered threats, all mixed in with the rustling of bed covers and the ever-present shifting of the light.

I couldn't take it anymore. I kicked open the door and leveled the pistol in my hand. "Freeze!" I shouted, and had to hold down a gagging reflex as I spotted what was inside.

The room was definitely the master bedroom, the way it was decked out with lavish curtains and furniture, all of it either black or various shades of red. In the middle of the room was a huge four-poster bed, one that could be hidden by black curtains that now hung slightly open. And through those curtains I could see the two figures entangled in the sheet…Koukon and Kimura-kun.

The blonde man had Kouichi pinned, one hand pressed over his mouth while the other clutched a fistful of his hair, keeping the boy's head still. His arms were pinned to his sides as Koukon straddled his waist, pointed knees bent to trap his wrists against the mattress. Neither was wearing a shirt, but it didn't seam quite voluntary…the dress Kouichi had been forced to wear before lay discarded on the ground, and there were the remains of thin black shirt lying in tatters around them.

It took me a moment to recover my composure, but only a moment. "Higure Koukon, you're under arrest." I growled, not taking my gun away from the blonde sicko. "Surrender now or I will be forced to open fire."

The blonde looked at me a moment, then laughed manically. "You won't shoot me, Inspector."

My hand tensed. "What makes you so sure?"

"Because…" An evil smirk slide over his face. "You don't want to hurt my little pet here."

Before I could blink he was in motion, snatching a shining knife from the bed stand and changing positions so that he held Kimura-kun firmly between us, a tight grip still on his hair and the knife pressed to his throat. My hand jerked, as did the two beside me, but no one could fire…we'd kill 'the hostage'. We'd kill Kouichi!

"Now do you see, officer?" Koukon laughed deep in his throat, pressing the knife ever closer to Kouichi's neck, making the boy whimper slightly. "Now do you see how far I'm willing to go to keep what is mine?"

His eyes flashed a fiery red, glinting at us maliciously. Another growl rumbled up in my throat, especially as he leaned forward to put his lips right against Kimura-kun's ear, whispering to him in a soft, heavy fashion that I could lip-read with ease: "If I can't have you…no one can…"

Then something happened that I'll never forget.

Kouichi suddenly grabbed his captor's arm with both of his, steadying the knife a safe distance from his own throat, and wrenched his head forward to bite Koukon's wrist with all his might.

Koukon screamed, dropping the knife and ripping out a fair chunk of dark hair. Kouichi took his self-given opportunity to roll out of the way and hit the floor, as I took my opportunity to fire.

The bullet wasn't meant to kill, and it didn't, but it did blow him back several feet and leave a very nice hole in his right shoulder. My two fellow officers reacted as well, diving forward to grab Koukon before he could move and make for the cuffs, reciting his so-called 'rights' as they did. Not that they would do him any help, but at this point we were not going to loose on a technicality.

Myself, my first priority was to make sure Kouichi was okay. I holstered my gun and raced over to where he was lying, curled into a fetal position on the floor. "Kimura-kun." I whispered gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It's over. It's all over."

He uncurled and blinked at me a second, then seamed to understand. "You mean D-D…H-He…"

"He won't hurt you ever again." I soothed, brushing some hair from his eyes. He was covered in bruises, some as long and thick as my arm, as well as several shallow cuts and scars in the pale skin of his arms and torso. But he was alive…thank the gods…and he seamed to be aware. There wasn't much I could do for him. But there was one thing.

"Come on." I whispered, wrapping an emergency blanket around his shoulders as I helped him up. "Let's get you home."


It might be a while before the next chapter is written, but that's half the fun. It gives you time to guess exactly why the freak is so obsessed with Kouichi-kun. Here's a hint: his name is a big clue. Both first and last.