This is going to be a Daiken fic later. That part will take a bit to get to though. I have quite a bit planned for this one, but I have yet to decide on a specific ending point.

I do not own Digimon :'(

Prologue: The Assassin in Chain

He felt the cold steel on his wrists, contrasting the warm liquid running down his arms. Deep blue hair covered cold, violet eyes. No emotion showed in those purple orbs, despite the fact he was hanging a foot off the ground, held by only his sore, bleeding wrists.

The door to his cell opened, and several people in uniforms came in. Police. He was told they were silently the enemy. If found by one, you kill them. Not out of malice. Not out of hate. But because you had to. That was why he ate. Because he had to. That was the reason he breathed and slept, and why he remained silent despite the pain shooting through him and the dizziness threatening to take him. It was the reason he would kill.

Because he had to.

It was his job. When he grew up he would be an assassin, just like the rest of his family. He had seen death enough times to ignore it. He'd been tortured enough times to remain silent, to not fear dying himself. He didn't know, but maybe he beckoned it. It would mean an end to this pain.

Yet he still lived. Because he had to?

To him, it had been just another day, simply another interrogation session. It would have been over soon, then they'd all sit down and eat dinner, his never-fully-healed cuts throbbing against the bandages, before heading to the shooting range. But not today. She said it would change, as she undid his shackles. She said he hadn't done anything wrong. She said they'd fix him.

Ken Ichijouji showed no emotion.

The boy of nine years looked to the hand on his shoulder with cold, scowling eyes. He felt the bandages tightening around his wrists as the paramedics stuck a needle in his arm. Apparently he was undernourished.

Ken Ichijouji had never noticed.

He was led through his house, passing by his family, only to find he and his older brother were the only ones left alive. He was screaming; they had always said he had failed. You weren't supposed to cry over dead family members. Everyone died. You killed some of those who died. You might be killed by someone else.

The police kept telling him they'd fix him.

Ken Ichijouji doubted it.

I already have chapter one written up, but will post it up in a week or two, so I can try and stay ahead of this one.