A/N: Ladies and gentlemen and others, I present to you another fic that doesn't make sense to me. Told in vignettes much like At Peace was, unlike At Peace, it is not told in any chronological order. It is detailing many points of the Dawn/Dusk games, which I'm using elements of both continuities because I've played both and it's not too hard. Also, I am posting five at a time. Because it needs to be finished by Saturday. Because reasons.
It will hopefully make sense when it's done. I'm not sure. If it doesn't, I swear I will go back and rewrite it.
This is for the first challenge of the Fall Green Room event in the RLt. Enjoy! I own nothing.
I.
"You didn't have to do it like that."
She raised an eyebrow, wiping her blade with a worn red cloth. "It wasn't fatal," she pointed out. "Your Flare is too slow as it is."
He scowled, releasing the energy that continued its lazy circling around his waist. Not that it wasn't true, she had always been faster than him, since the day they had met, since the walls, since everything really. He just hated being reminded of it. It wasn't like he was incompetent. She knew that.
Still, the fact remained. Night was stronger than Day in these missions.
Give him a midday chase through Resistor Jungle on nothing more than adrenaline and Digiar level one-point-five and he would be better than her, better at ripping through foliage and sending a battle-ready blaze of fire that had the quarry shrieking and begging for arrest. Give him justice and divinity and power.
None of this night watch, slithering behind walls, quick cuts to the throat trash data nonsense that she took on with fervor and pride. Proud of being a lynx, a harmless looking rabbit with goggles until you took off the hat and saw the monster.
At least with him, you could tell he was a monster.
Right?
So, knowing this, he bit his lip and kept his mouth shut, still looking at her, still staring at her with that hostility of a lion at the sight of the ragged run rabbit. Again, she ignored him, adjusting her weapon to rest smoothly in one hand. "For Ygg's sake, put that thing away!" he snapped, looking at his Digivice with its glowing screen. "Someone might see you."
She did put the axe away, only to replace it with the familiar gloves that made his right cheek ache in memory. Then she smiled through locks of permanently purple hair, and jammed her hat back on her head.
"Come on," Sayo said to him, her clothes of blues and purples and grays a patchwork quilt of the digitized evening sky. "We have a report to make to Clavis."
Koh glared. "At least say his name right."