A/N: Warning: excessive use of italics ahead.
It was a murder.
It was a total fucking murder.
Not that Takeru would have ever sworn out loud in public, but still…
And, of course, he wasn't in public but at home, glancing at his morning paper before heading to the town.
Or at least, that had been his strong intention ten minutes earlier.
Now, however…
"Hurricane Touchdown' is a substandard attempt by Takeru Takaishi who made a world-wide name by writing 'Digimon Adventure'. Takaishi's last short-story 'Our War Game!' gave intriguing, even if an unpolished, story behind the Internet-chaos at the start of the millennium. However, it seems that the narrating issues that were already prominent in the 'Digimon Adventure' have expanded to tragicomic scale in 'Hurricane Touchdown'. Despite the interesting starting point of the story, it soon falls to pieces as Takaishi seems completely unable to keep all aspects of the story in balance. The plotline jumps all over the place, characters remain depthless, and the end-finale fails to answer the very same questions the prologue asks. Even though Takaishi can never be said to be one of the best Japanese writers of the Modern era — his books seem to be appealing to the crowd based on their subject alone — it could even be questioned whether Takaishi has been low in cash, throwing whatever he could think of out to form a new source of income."
Takeru threw the paper on the desk, taking a very deep breath.
He could feel Patamon's eyes on him from the canopy bed, and the silence of his partner told enough of the review. If a Digimon thought it was savage…
Takeru banged his head on one of the wooden poles of the bed.
And, now what?
He was supposed to be in the studio 5 of Mediatown at the Eastern side of the city in 50 minutes, but now he wasn't sure if he wanted to reach the place in 50 years.
He wasn't a professional, academically trained or extremely passionate writer. And certainly, the fact that their endeavors with the Digital World always shambled his writing schedule to few short weeks between month-long breaks didn't help his case either. And, he had never been deceived by the reason the public had been so interest in his books.
But still…
He had hoped to achieve some creditability as a writer, as a professional who had given years of his time to hone one practice.
Clearly, he had been wrong.
Takeru didn't alter his gaze from Patamon's blue eyes that were examining the destruction left by the critique.
And that had only been one paper…
Takeru contemplated on his options, if he just put his shoes on, he could still catch the metro of 7.03, he could call to the program director and lie — very convincingly — that he had caught a fever, or opt the most believable version of an emergency in the Digital World and disappear into the wind.
However, before he had managed to decide on his flight or fight -tactic, his ringtone offered a very much needed sidetrack to follow.
"Hello."
"Ouch."
The minimalistic greeting from Yamato's end answered immediately to his question on how widely the morning paper had already been spread. "How are you doing?"
"Sparky." Takeru retorted back, tight-lipped.
"They are quite harsh. Have book reviewers always been this cruel?"
It wasn't really a question, and certainly not one that Takeru wanted to answer at the given moment.
"You do know they are just harsher to you because of your popularity?"
Takeru shook off the partial compliment before he had even time to register it as the first positive remark of the day.
Was it really only 6.54 a.m.?
"So it's not only crap, it's overly popularized crap."
"That's not what I said. And the anti-Digimon sentiment is adding to it, they are just riding on the public opinion."
Takeru had to crease his forehead, the misplaced nature of Yamato's lines arousing a question which he was very much willing to exploit as a change of topic.
"Says who?"
The momentary pause gave Yamato time to hone the tone of his voice, trying to sound as natural as possible, in order not to provoke a stronger reaction, "Taichi."
Oh shit.
Okay, maybe he didn't want to sink into the "who all had read the review, and his shredded public image, before the majority of the people had even had their morning coffee" -thing.
"Takeru, are you in there?"
His mental pause had clearly taken over his mind in a moment of blissful blankness, and Takeru had to really work to pull himself together and lower his left hand from shielding his face.
"Yeah. I… I really have to go to the recording. It's an agreed schedule so…" He left the sentence hanging, hoping for a miraculous escape from the catastrophe that was bound to kick up gears during the next 24 hours.
"Sure. Just don't worry about the Tokyo Times, it will soon be forgotten. Bye."
Takeru never replied, his eyes laying on the bold print on top of his edition of the Japan News.
Double shit.
A/N: I like the idea that Takeru's writings would bear "actual" similarity with the show and the movies — and their reception. The books would have to be popular because they are the only first-person account on what it's like to be a friend with these weird alien monsters that have almost wiped out Earth — a few times, to be precise. Still, I can't imagine that Takeru would necessarily be the most gifted writer. Trying to capture 12 people's experiences in a balanced way, not to mention, the jumps between both worlds and different enemies... poor Takeru.