[Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon or its characters. Their use in the following work of fiction is only for creative enjoyment.]
[AN: For those of you who may not have noticed yet, Chapter 7 of Mission: Impossible -- The Hida Factor has been fully updated now. Every now and then I have to return to manageable one-shot stories to assure myself that I can write meaningful things in less than 5,000 words. This story takes place in a pre-series creative reality for Digimon 02, two weeks after Hiroki Hida's funeral. Enjoy!]
To Seek From A Small Place
"I just don't know if he's ready," Minako Hida spoke with worried deliberation.
"... Daughter, I understand your concern. I do not take it lightly. Yet, this was to be the time, as soon as Cody was in grade school. Everything has been ready for months. I was only keeping the gear so Hiroki could surprise -- " The sturdy older man sighed to release a sudden flash of painful sadness remembering his son's love of unexpected caring. He collected himself to reason calmly and patiently with his daughter-in-law. " By right these things all belong to Cody now, as does the knowledge to use them properly."
" It's still so soon after ..., " the young Mrs. Hida countered.
"... Yes, we are all still grieving, Daughter," Grandpa Hida admitted. "I believe Cody's approach to this grief may be the best reason to proceed as planned, and as soon as possible."
"Why do you say that?" She asked with a tone of new concern.
The senior Mr. Hida looked at his daughter-in-law with a tender frankness. His son had chosen so very well. She was a loving woman, and her maternal instincts were remarkably sound. There was no need to tell her what the man was sure she already knew. "Tell me, have you noticed anything different about Cody in these last two weeks?"
Minako started to shake her head no, but stopped. Her honest assessment began hesitantly, but became easier. "He's gotten quieter, not just in volume. He talks less now too. Cody's always been cutely serious about things, but he's becoming so intense about being serious now. I've also noticed how Cody watches both of us, I think he's afraid something will happen to one or both of us if he doesn't look."
Grandpa Hida nodded to all of this, then focused in on his chief concern. "Yes, Daughter. I've felt Cody's eyes on me constantly too since I've moved in, but we are not all he is watching."
"I know," the young mother confirmed sadly, "Every day, at the time Hiroki would be home from work, Cody comes to watch the apartment door. At first, it was breaking my heart because I thought that he still somehow believed his Dad was going to come through that door again. That's what I thought, but it's actually worse. The other day, when Yolei stayed over after walking Cody back from school, she noticed him doing that too. When she was about to leave, I asked her privately not to dwell on it with Cody. Yolei said she'd already asked Cody why he watched the door like that. She just asked him outright, and he told her why."
"That girl's directness has its advantages," the senior Hida mused. "What did Cody tell her?"
Minako Hida revealed her son's intent, still amazed that it could come from a six year-old. "He said he wasn't waiting for his Dad because his Dad was gone. Cody said he's been waiting for another policeman to come and tell him that whoever hurt his Dad has been caught and punished. He actually used the word "justice". My little boy is waiting for someone to tell him that justice has been done," The widow sobbed.
The older man comforted her. "Cody is a good boy. He knows of justice from the many stories he's been told about the samurai. He knows the word, he feels the need for it. However, Cody doesn't yet know how someone his age can apply justice, especially against such a terrible act. He waits for those he believes can render justice to do so. I fear he confuses the capacity for it with having revenge. Justice should be healing while revenge is only hurtful. Cody's wrestling with both concepts right now, truly needing one and wanting them both. It is a daunting, frustrating challenge for one so young. I know it's painful to watch him go through it without really knowing how he wants us to help him. Daughter, I truly believe starting his kendo training will help Cody help himself."
Minako mulled the older man's words in silence until the electronic chirp of an alarm set on her wristwatch interrupted her consideration. "He's just getting out of school, he'll have Yolei get him home soon. Please, let's see how Cody is tonight and decide for sure about kendo tomorrow, OK?"
"Very well, Daughter. That's sensible enough," Grandpa Hida agreed.
Just a short time later, a small hand quietly opened the Hida apartment door. Cody politely stood back and ushered Yolei in first before he entered and closed the door. His mother greeted both children warmly. "Hello Cody, Yolei. My, you two certainly got in quickly from school." Young Cody nodded earnestly, indicating that he had intended to get home as soon as possible. The little boy started to say something but stopped because he'd almost forgotten to do something important. He straightened up and bowed to his mother, then turned and bowed to his Grandpa Hida. The woman smiled at the courtesy, the elder returned the bow with one of his own. Now Cody knew it was appropriate to speak.
"Hi Mom, hello Grandpa. I came as straight home as I could. We would have been here sooner, but Yolei had to observe an activity at the park." The child's tone bore no disdain or anger for the delay. Cody's matter-of-fact observation was tinged with nothing more severe than the mild exasperation his tall friend brought on sometimes. It was a small price to pay for her overpowering friendship.
"That activity ... ," Yolei explained, "... was called playing, Cody. Lots of kids from school stop off at the park to play before heading home, you know. Just try and imagine this, OK? You've been sitting in a desk for the better part of six hours. All day long you build up this restless energy, so when you finally taste real freedom for the afternoon you go to a place where you can run, and slide, and swing, and ... and ..." At this point, the lanky ten year-old realized that her little friend was staring at her as if she made no sense at all, but he did it as politely as it could be done. "... and never mind. I know there are things we're supposed to understand later than other things Cody, but playing isn't one of them, that's all."
"I'm sorry Yolei. I'll try to remember the value of playing the next time I get restless," the six year-old who was almost never restless promised.
"Oh Cody." Yolei rolled her eyes behind her oversized glasses. "You don't have to be sorry. I just want you to have the chance to play if you want it. Tell you what, why don't we play a game in your room for a while? I just happen to have my latest set of fifth grade vocabulary flash cards in my backpack here. You want a shot at them? That's OK, right Mrs. Hida?" The girl's last question was meant to bypass Cody's primary condition, his mother's permission.
"I think that's just fine Yolei. I'll be sure to call your Mom and let her know you're here with Cody for a while." Minako Hida gladly joined the girl's improvised plot for Cody's sake.
Cody pondered his options, significantly narrowed by the enthusiasm of his best friend and the full approval of his Mom. Besides, Cody really liked Yolei's vocabulary words, and he was good at doing them. The small boy understood that agreeing would happily be received as both friendly and dutiful, but other duties he had given himself had to be considered too. He used the rest of this thoughtful moment to look at the clock, and was innocently unaware how concerned the three people who were now closest to him became when he did so.
"We can do that Yolei for a little bit, thank you," Cody politely prefaced, allowing a hint of pleasure to brighten his matter-of-factness. "Mom, you're sure that you and Grandpa don't need me to do anything out here, in the living room?"
"I'm positive sweetheart. You just go have have fun with Yolei," his Mom encouraged. Grandpa Hida agreed with a nod and a quick smile.
"OK, thank you," the boy replied simply. "Right this way Yolei." Cody led the way toward his room as if Yolei hadn't been there umpteen times already.
"I know Cody," Yolei giggled at his formalness, and followed him quickly.
It didn't take long for Mrs. Hida to reach Mrs. Inoue by phone at the Inoue's store. The store wasn't very busy that afternoon, so Yolei was teasingly permitted to stay as long as the Hidas could put up with her, which Minako Hida assured could be quite a while. Once that arrangement was settled, a recently missed but quietly desired feeling began to bolster the restrained mood of the Hida household. It was the welcome sense of a happier daily routine that might allow a little boy to enjoy an afternoon with a friend without worry or obligation. The pleasantness of that feeling didn't last, being broken by a sound that the Hidas only usually heard on school day mornings. Cody's bedside alarm clock buzzed to indicate the time his father usually came in from work.
The boy quieted his alarm, but then insisted on excusing himself from the game with Yolei to make his way to the apartment living room. Yolei did her very best to gently coax him to just keep playing. "We're having a good game Cody, and it's your turn." She looked at him with sympathetic consideration. "Look, if something comes up and you want to know about it, I'm sure your Mom and Grandpa will call for you. Don't worry about it. So, ready for your next word?"
Cody apologized as he took an agitated hold on his bedroom doorknob. "I'm sorry Yolei. I promise I like the game, so I'll come back. I just have to check. I've waited so long already, and today might be the day." The six year-old opened his bedroom door and hurried into the living room with an urgency that surprised and dismayed his family.
The youngster scanned the living room intently with his green eyes, physically turning this way and that. Cody saw no one but his Mom and Grandpa. Still, that didn't mean that his anticipated herald of justice wasn't approaching, or maybe had come by and left a note or something to respectfully not disturb them. The small boy rushed to the apartment door and opened it wide. No one was there, and there was no note. Cody stared one way down the long hallway, then the other. He even stepped out of the apartment, leaving the door open, and just stood in the hallway waiting expectantly for a long couple of minutes. Reluctantly, he resigned himself for the day by lowering his eyes and turning to walk back inside. It was only after getting back inside the apartment and closing the door behind him that Cody looked up again, and saw his Mom, Grandpa Hida, and Yolei watching him with concern etched on their faces.
Suddenly disappointed in himself, and embarrassed at drawing such attention, the youngster felt a desperate need to explain his actions. "I'm sorry if I bothered you. I ... I thought someone might come and tell me today. I mean tell us. I guess it takes longer than I thought, a lot longer. I know bad people get punished, so it can't take too long. It will happen sometime, and when it does, we'll know it, right?" The boy pushed through the pained silence that met his question. "Some day the good guys are going to make the bad thing that happened right, won't they? Mom? Grandpa? Yolei?" Cody searched the faces of those he loved for some confirmation. Yolei's eyes were teary and confused. His Mom was on the verge of crying too. Worst of all was the solemn look on Grandpa Hida's face. It was a look, not without regret or compassion, that honestly told the child such a resolution might never come. Cody Hida knew the truth of a fact when it was presented to him. That didn't mean he had to like it, and he hated this one. "B-but w-why?" "It can't stay this way. It can't! I want it to be right! If I were bigger I'd try to make it right, but I don't know if I can make it that long! It hurts so much, it ,,,," but the rest was just sobs and crying.
Minako Hida rushed to her son and held him. Yolei came over just to touch her little friend's shoulder to let him know that she cared, a lot. Grandpa Hida waited for a thoughtful moment before approaching his grandson with purpose. He posed a silent question to his daughter-in-law with a look the boy didn't see. Minako Hida answered with a nod that gratefully placed a new trust in her husband's father.
"Cody," Grandpa Hida spoke with blunt authority to get the boy's attention, "Did you mean it when you said you would seek to make right if you could?"
"Y-yes," Cody answered in a firm attempt to collect himself and listen.
"Then I can teach you to seek justice as I first taught your father. It will not be what you imagine now. You will have to concentrate, learn, and be as brave as you can be. Are you willing Cody?"
Released from his mother's embrace to make his own decision, six year-old Cody Hida steadied himself and faced his Grandpa Hida, who would now always be more than a Grandpa. The boy knew he could bow, but sometimes even a bow wasn't good enough. Cody Hida knelt before his grandfather and looked up with a remarkable determination. "Yes, I am. Please teach me."
That night, after dinner but before bedtime, Cody stood with his Grandpa Hida in a room the older man had arranged to be a dojo. The child was resplendent in the brand new keiko-gi shirt and roomy hakama trousers, which still had to be over-belted on Cody's undersized, slight frame. Cody had received these and a small set of bogu armor in preparation for his first kendo lesson. Getting them had not brought a youthful "oh cool!" reaction from him. Yolei took care of that part before she headed home. Little Cody acknowledged the gifts by focusing on their purpose. Right now, he wasn't wearing the bogu and he still didn't have a shinai, the bamboo sword. Grandpa Hida, who needed to be called Sensei in the dojo, sensibly instructed that first things were first. Cody had to earn the right to own a shinai by understanding the first lesson. Grand ... Sensei called the lesson "What Justice Is Not."
The elder Hida placed the boy in front of a dummy figure suspended at adult standing height from the room's ceiling. This seemed strange because Cody had never seen such a thing at any kendo practice he'd watched before. Next, the senior Hida gave his newest student a "demonstration" shinai, which was just a long bamboo pole, then began to give the lesson. "Student, even in this first lesson you have an opponent to defeat. That opponent is hateful anger. It's very true that our family has been terribly wronged, and you justly feel robbed of a lifetime you would have known, because you have been. Still, to know justice in the life you have now, you have to realize that it will not flow from anger, not ever. In order to accept this you have to let that anger out, and let it show you that it is not the path to justice."
Cody was confused and a little afraid. The only thing he could do was trust the teaching. "What must I do now Sensei?"
The older man spoke firmly so the boy would not hesitate long, "See the dummy as the bad ones who need to be punished. Then do what you will."
Cody hesitated for only a moment. It did not take long for his young imagination to create the battle his elder suggested, or to trigger the powerful emotion behind it. Cody Hida swung his bamboo pole once and heard the satisfying thud it rendered. He swung again, harder. Then again, and again, and again. Suddenly, the little boy was screaming and crying while delivering blow after terrible blow. For a split second he thought he could swing for as long as it took to make doing so feel right. Yet, with one final scream, Cody flung the bamboo pole away from him, then just stood and cried.
"Student, tell me why you stopped, be quick." the older Hida pressed.
Cody choked an answer out between sobs, "It's ... not ... right. It doesn't feel right Grandpa."
The man came swiftly over to the boy, picked him up and held him.
"Well done, Cody! You have won your first kendo match. Evil, even great evil can be balanced, and only by doing good and right as we live the best we can. This is how true justice can be sought from small places, even from within a very honorable small boy." Grandpa Hida professed. "Let's go get the shinai you have earned, and then some rest. Your training in the real art of kendo begins tomorrow."
The two Hidas stood apart, bowed to each other, then left together. This night was not the end of Cody's sadness for losing his Dad. Yet, it was the very beginning of the destiny that would help him channel that sadness into a lifetime of good.