Story Title: The Great Paper Trail Hunt
Disclaimer: Still don't own Digimon 02.
Author's Notes: There's not really much to this story. Mostly it was just an idea I thought was cute and I had a little extra time and the pens and paper handy nearby. I suppose it's the closest I'll get to a drabble. Of lately I've been getting a few ideas for Kenyako stories set in their adult years, which I suppose is not a bad thing since there are not that many stories based on the future years.
Again, I use the same names for the kids as I do in "Along the Road and the Way Things Are" and until the creators give them official names, those will be the names I will always use.
To any and all, thanks for reading.
-o-
Story Title: The Great Paper Trail Hunt
-o-
Detective Ken Ichijouji thought nothing when he saw a rookie with a small garbage bag coming around collecting everyone's trash. There was always someone, either the station's neat freak or an unlucky rookie enduring the lightest of punishments for losing the bet-of-the-week, walking around collecting everyone's trash.
This week's unfortunate non-victor was a rookie named Masamura. Physically, he was a plain man and was rather quiet in the office. He was a nice guy but wasn't very lucky at winning bets. Ken talked to him from time to time and the young man seemed to brighten up considerably every time. Like many rookies fresh from the academy, he admired Ken and was always very polite and helpful to him and Wormmon.
With the last of his reports done, Ken thought he would take a moment to clear the things from his pockets as well. Along with the usual things a man found in his pockets, occasionally he would find other things, like Kiyoko's latest favorite nail polish whenever Masato decided to hide it from his sister, Hawkmon's feather, and Miyako's cell phone. Ken always swore to Miyako that he didn't even remember seeing her phone, much less putting it into his pocket, and both of them were certain either Masato or Kiyoko was slipping it into his pocket. Ken was waiting for the right opportunity to reveal to Miyako just which of their children thought they were being very stealthy with their mama's phone.
And, well, though he didn't find Miyako's phone today, Ken was never without a toy from Hisoka. His youngest boy was certain he was getting very good at sneaking toys into his papa's pocket, except Ken had figured out what his little boy was doing much more quickly than what his older sister and brother were up to and didn't want to stop him for anything in the world. Today, it was a tiny Aquaman with Thor's hammer as a bonus and, like always, Ken set them in their spot of honor on his desk for the day.
He set aside a small, folded up piece of paper near but away from the pile of odds and ends from his pockets. Though the folded up paper didn't seem like much, it was definitely not trash.
"Detective Ichijouji," Detective Takeburi said. "Chief wants to see you. Told me to tell you it's about the Sanda-SkullMeramon case. Hopefully, it's good news, yea?"
Ken gave his fellow detective an agreeing smile and nod and headed off with Wormmon on his shoulder to find out what sort of development in his case had occurred.
He returned to his desk to find not only his trash collected but his most important paper missing as well. Ken's immediate solution was to find Masamura.
"Officer Masamura," Ken called as he found the rookie tossing away the collected trash in a larger trash bin outside in the hallway. "Did you throw away a paper from my desk? It was folded up into a small square about this size." He made a square of the approximate right size with his hand.
"Umm, I'm not sure, sir," Masamura said, red faced and bowing profusely to his famous senior. "I-I admit I tossed a few things from your desk but it looked like trash to me. Please, forgive me, sir."
"Help me find my paper and there will be nothing to forgive," Ken said. "Is it in that bag?"
Before Masamura could respond, Ken took the bag, gave a general look through it before dumping it out and making a closer inspection.
"I'm sorry, sir," Masamura said, still offering bows of apology and respect, as Ken and Wormmon searched, "but it isn't in that bag. If I know anything for certain, it's already in the dumpster out back."
"Then Officer Masamura, find your head, keep calm, and come with me," Ken said, giving the embarrassed rookie a smile. It was mostly a put on to help calm Masamura but it was also to keep his fears and worries hidden. He didn't want to lose his paper. He couldn't. It was very, very important to him.
Behind the station was an industrial dumpster and with it being trash-collecting day apparently, it was quite full.
"Ichijouji, sir," Masamura said as he gawked at the high stack of trash bags and at Ken as he hopped onto the side of the dumpster and immediately started tossing out bags, "I am very sorry for any and all inconvenience my error has caused you but are you sure you want to do this? There is a lot of garbage and who knows what condition that little piece of paper might be in…"
"That is true. It might be ruined," Ken said as he untied the first two bags, one for himself and one for Wormmon to search through. "But I have to find it. Whatever is left of it, I have to have it back. Some things are too important to toss out. Some things you can't lose. And no one should ever give up without trying."
"Sir, if I may," Masamura said as he started rummaging in a bag of his own. "What are we looking for? What is it?"
"Irreplaceable," was all Ken said before looking to his partner. "Any luck?"
"Nothing so far," Wormmon said from inside a bag. "I don't even think this stuff is from the station."
"It probably isn't," Masamura said. "It's not uncommon for civilians to toss their garbage in with ours."
"I hope it is," Wormmon said as he wiggled out from the trash bag. "Otherwise, someone's been drinking a lot on the job."
Masamura looked horrified at the thought while Ken softly laughed.
Bag after bag they searched to no luck. Sorted through piles of trash laid spread around them. The small back area of the police station was a complete mess. It looked like a miniature landfill. Or like Masamura's grandmother's living room looked before she died, the rookie explained to Ken and Wormmon.
"Needs more rotten Thai food smell though." Masamura gave a weak, almost cringing smile at his painfully truthful joke.
The majority of the station's trash was papers. None of which were Ken's Very Important Paper. Ken was hoping it wasn't lost or damaged. Because even if he could get a copy, it wouldn't be the same, it would never be exact, it wouldn't be the original, and it would always remind him of the fact he had lost the original.
And he didn't want to be reminded of his failure in not finding what he had lost. All he wanted to be reminded of when he unfolded that paper was the love and happiness he felt in that moment at his very first sight of it. He wanted to be reminded of the glow and smile on Miyako's face and the brightness of his son's eyes even as he held them shyly canted toward the ground—
"Ichijouji, Masamura, what in the hell are you two doing?" the chief suddenly ordered, standing in the propped-open doorway with his eyes practically bulging at the mess around them.
"It's my fault, Chief. I threw away Ichijouji's paper," Masamura hastily explained and bowed to the chief.
"A paper? Ichijouji, you're supposed to be arresting Sanda, not digging through the trash. You honestly think you have the time for this?"
"Actually, Chief, since Sanda is in intensive care with at least two broken legs and his partner is now in its Fresh form, I do believe I do have the time," Ken explained, his voice calm. "And as much as you may disbelieve, sir, this is much more important."
"What in the world could be more important—"
"Got it!" Wormmon announced cheerfully as he wiggled backwards out from the trash bag. "And it's clean," he added with equal cheer.
Though he only wore a gentle smile, Ken was overjoyed on the inside to have the small square of folded up paper back. He honestly had not wanted to even begin to think about what he would have done if he could not have recovered it. He expected a lot of tears and a tiny broken heart if he could not have found it again. To no worries and to no tears now that he had it back.
"Ichijouji," the chief said, his glare and tone level in annoyance, "what's on that paper better be worth its weight in gold or I'll have you, Wormmon, and Masamura on petty crimes for weeks."
"Not to worry, sir. It's worth it. It's my lucky treasure." He unfolded the square and showed them his youngest son's crayon drawing of the two of them. "Hisoka, my youngest, did this. I keep it with me in my front shirt pocket so he stays close to my heart. I wouldn't want to be without it. My kids mean the world to me."
"How old is he?" Masamura asked, staring at the drawing that consisted only of his and his son's portraits from the head to their shoulders with a measure of interest.
"Just turned five," Ken said, unknowingly in the universal Proud Papa voice.
"Wow, that's really good for his age," Masamura said, honestly impressed. "Don't you think so, Chief?"
The chief had his eyes closed and his face was a hard, stern mask. At the top of his forehead was a thick, pulsing vein. He spoke slow and measured and held back his overwhelming annoyance. "Ichijouji, you are telling me you have wasted all this time, made this mess to recover your kid's drawing… You do realize your kid can make another. If you weren't the best we've got in our entire region—"
"Chief, if I may," Ken calmly interrupted as he grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and showed the chief a photo of Hisoka, smiling. "Look at my boy. Now tell my boy his papa's picture was thrown away and that he has to make another one. Now picture him crying, really crying. After all, he had just learned that someone had tossed his very carefully and lovingly done picture for his papa away in the trash and it's gone forever. Now instead of my boy, it's Chinami. And she's crying. And you're in my situation."
Ken gave the chief a moment to fully paint the picture of his daughter crying and to place himself in Ken's shoes before he asked, "So, Chief, do you get the picture back or do you tell your little girl to just make another one?"
His face showing almost no annoyance and appearing impassive, the chief stood thinking, his jaw pushed out as he contemplated deeply.
"And this is why you're the best detective in the country…" the chief at last said. "All right, Ichijouji, you got your paper back, now will you do your job? We need Sanda in custody yesterday, boy."
"Of course, sir," Ken said, punctuating his words with a nod.
As Ken refolded his son's drawing and placed it back into the safety of his front shirt pocket, Wormmon crawled onto his arm. There were lots of things left to do today, many hours left to burn before he could go home, but at least he would not be without his family's love to protect him while he was on-duty. Maybe it was a silly superstition but Ken knew plenty of fellow officers that had their lucky treasures to watch over them. Most of their charms all had to do with their families and none would be without them.
" …Oh and Masamura?" the chief said as he followed Ken inside.
"Yes, sir!" the rookie stood up straight and gave a sharp salute.
"Clean this up."