Note: Again, yes, I do have kale's permission to post his stories here. That permission is documented in his author's profile. This is the fifth book, continuing the saga begun in 'SoulBound', 'A Bond Unbreakable', 'The True Believers', and 'Unite the Righteous Virtues' and occurs roughly during the first few episodes of canon season 02.

A reading of Books 1 and 3, at least, is recommended to follow the storyline.

The Faith of My Fathers

T.K. heaved his heavy book-bag over his shoulder with a quiet sigh as he continued his slogging journey through the ankle-deep snow on the way to school. Books, basketball equipment, lunch... it was all in there, and the cruel weight of the bag made him certain that he'd spend the rest of his days hunched over if he didn't put it down soon.

What was it that Gatomon had once asked him... back in the old days?

"What do you carry in that backpack? Bricks?"

The boy grinned ruefully and shifted the weight over to his opposite shoulder. He knew it wasn't bricks, as he'd been certain to check before leaving the house. Maybe his mother had secretly lined it with lead when he wasn't looking.

Then, after what seemed like an eternity, the school came mercifully into view just around the next corner. Yet another dreary day of classes complete with the tedium of biology, grammar, algebra...

And the decidedly less dreary prospect of seeing Kari...

He managed to stifle an admittedly stupid grin at that last thought. Well, perhaps things wouldn't be too bad after all. And, if things went as they usually did, another trip back to the digital world with Kari and the rest of his friends. Now there was a place where he felt he was actually accomplishing something.

After the long torture of trudging through the unusually cold weather the young boy stepped into the schoolhouse, the snow melting off of his sweater to form a large puddle around his winter boots. He waited for a moment to allow his fingers to regain some sensation after being numbed by the arctic chill outside, then removed his hat and shook the snow from it. At once several tendrils of long, golden hair again fell down to hang in front of his bright blue eyes.

"Hey! T.J.! You look like something the cat dragged in... or maybe something the cat coughed up!"

T.K. choked back a sigh as the other boy chuckled at his own words, fighting an instinctive roll of the eyes. "Hi, Davis," he responded patiently, giving a brief wave as his dark-haired friend passed quickly by. Davis' taunting was frequent enough, so he supposed that he should have gotten used to it by this time. And he most likely would have, being naturally very even tempered, were there not that one omnipresent source of tension between the pair.

The blond boy was not, of course, stupid. He was well aware... all too well aware... of Davis' rather obsessive crush on Kari. How he wished that once, just once, she would come out and tell him what was quite obvious to everyone else: that she was already spoken for. Competition for the girl's affections wouldn't have bothered T.K. in the least, were it not for the fact that she'd proven her love for him both in word and in deed so often in the past. "Why did it have to be my girlfriend?" the boy muttered to himself. Kari took constant steps to keep the other boy at arm's length or greater, but for some unknown reason she refused to put an end to his pining by just coming out and telling him what the rest of the world already knew... that she could never love anyone but the golden-haired boy to whom she was promised.

With a thinly disguised look of vexation still scrawled across his face, T.K. quickly fought his way through the crowd to his locker and placed away those items which he would not need before going off to his daily rendezvous with Davis and Kari. If nothing else, it was kind of amusing to watch the interaction between the two.

A formal school dance was being held later that night, and in spite of his rather profound lack of coordination when it came to dancing, T.K. would be escorting Kari. Their relationship being as well-understood as it was, neither had even fielded any other proposals. But the young boy had the uncomfortable feeling that Davis would insist on making some sort of last-minute play for Kari and so make everything that much more awkward. Fortunately there was no basketball practice that day, so T.K. would have plenty of time after school to get ready. Kari had a meeting of the photography club immediately after class for some awards ceremony or other (of which she was certain to win many), but it would be over in plenty of time for the girl to get home and get changed.

T.K. opened the door to the classroom. And once more, as he had been every other day during the entire school year, Davis was draped all over Kari. The girl gave her sweetheart a secret, patient smile as he entered and sat down beside her, causing the other boy to glare across her shoulder at him. "Nice to see you made it, T.M. I was beginning to hope, er, worry that something had happened to you."

"Hi, Davis," T.K. replied patiently, making a concerted effort to sound pleasant. The blond boy tried and tried repeatedly to establish the bond with Davis that he already shared with the other chosen, but their new leader made it almost impossibly difficult sometimes.

"Hi Davis," the other echoed back at the boy in a falsetto tone. "Me and Kari were just discussing our plans for the dance tonight."

Kari's eyebrow went up as she turned on the boy. "We were not!" she shot heatedly back at him.

"Well, we were about to," Davis amended smoothly, his voice just a bit defensive.

"Very well class, take your seats, please," their teacher directed, entering the room just as the bell started to ring and silencing them all with a single glance. "Remember, there is a quiz today on chapters eleven and twelve in your texts. I hope that everyone has come prepared."

"Oh, damn," Davis muttered under his breath, turning his head to the side.

As the other boy looked away, T.K. leaned over towards Kari. "Why don't you tell him?" he asked again, his voice reflecting just a touch of sadness.

Kari quickly glanced to make certain that Davis wasn't listening, then leaned in to reply. "I don't want to hurt him. He'll get the hint... eventually, I'm sure."

"You know you're not doing him any favors by letting him pine over you like this, right?"

A lovely smile crept onto the girl's lips, the smile that T.K. so adored... and Kari knew it. "You just worry about tonight. I'll worry about Davis." And then the girl pursed her lips and blew a soft, teasing breath onto his ear.

A chill went down T.K.'s spine as his cheeks flushed a bright red. She always knew exactly how to handle him... and the boy loved her for it.

The three at the front of the class were the last to receive their tests. The teacher glanced at the clock on the wall and then announced with a single nod, "Begin."

The test was really quite easy, as most of the questions had come verbatim straight from the textbook that they had been assigned. T.K. puzzled his way through the first pair, then confidently filled out the remainder of the answers and placed his pencil down ten minutes later, taking his paper up and placing it on the teacher's desk... well before anyone else.

The young boy was somewhat surprised. Kari always, without fail, easily finished the tests before he or anyone else in the class would. With a quizzical look still in his eyes, the boy gave a surreptitious glance over Kari's shoulder to see just what was taking her so long. No harm, he figured, since he had already turned his paper in.

Kari had barely gotten through the first four questions, and after a moment T.K. discovered why. Every so often, Davis would slide a piece of paper in front of the girl with a note of some sort scribbled on it. He's asking her for the answers? T.K. wondered, glancing over his shoulder to watch their teacher. He's taking a big chance, sitting right up in front of the class.

Kari evidently tried to ignore the note and concentrate on the test, but whenever she did, Davis would shove it further and further onto her paper until the girl was finally forced to scribble a brief note in return and shove it back towards the brown-haired boy. T.K. caught a brief glimpse of their handwritten conversation.

Oh come on! Come to the dance with me, please?

No, Davis. I already said no.

Why not? You don't have plans with anyone else, do you? Somebody that I should know about?

Davis, I said no! For the last time, no, no, NO!

Then disaster struck. As Davis was sliding the note across to her again, his hand slipped and the paper went fluttering to the floor to land right in front of the teacher's desk. The balding man looked up from his writing, then glanced down at the paper on the floor in front of him.

The class became deathly still as he walked slowly around his desk and picked up the note, reading it with disapproval. Then he folded the little piece of paper in half and cleared his throat. "Mr. Motomiya?" he asked, holding it up. "You seem to have dropped something here. For your lack of discretion in my classroom, you will be consigned to detention. You do know where, I believe."

Davis bit his lip and turned his bowed head to the side in sullen frustration. "R-7, three o'clock sharp."

"And to whom were you passing this note, hmm?" the teacher asked, standing in front of Kari and looking down at the girl, who steadfastly refused to look up in response. "Miss Kamiya?"

Kari's lips were quivering, and the tears flooding her eyes made it clear she was on the verge of breaking down. Well, T.K. thought stoically, I guess that's what she gets for not telling him a long time ago.

"Miss Kamiya?" the teacher said insistently, his deep voice stern. Davis, astonishingly, did nothing to hide the smirk forming on his lips. Even if it was in detention, he would finally get the chance to be alone with Kari. She'd be mad in the beginning, but once she gave him a chance...

T.K. blinked once as a thought occurred to him, and he looked over at the girl. But what about the photography thing...? Kari had been waiting anxiously for several weeks for those awards, especially as she was favored to win several. She miss the whole thing if she was in detention with Davis. And so he abruptly slid his chair back away from his desk and stood up, just as Kari was about to break under the teacher's intense glare. He straightened his back. "Uhm, actually sir, it... it was for me."

The teacher's eyebrows went up suspiciously at the blond-haired boy as he glanced down to quickly reread the script of the note, particularly the last line. He was, after all, no fool, and was well aware of the quasi-romantic connection between these three.

Come on. We can say it's only as "friends" if you want.

T.K. bit his lip as the man studied him closely. He was, admittedly, a completely inept liar, and could therefore only pray that the older man would take him at his word and not question him. He shifted uncomfortably as the eyes of two dozen classmates began burning a hole in his back, but otherwise remained stock-still as the teacher slowly nodded. "I believe I understand, Mr. Takaishi. Of course this will mean detention for you as well. I must admit to some surprise, as I cannot recall ever having had cause to punish you before."

T.K. nodded his acceptance of the sentence and sat back down, resisting the very real urge to sigh in relief. Then the teacher also returned to his seat and looked up. "Very well, class, the show is over. Finish your tests quickly, please." And then he cast a brief, clandestine look in T.K.'s direction, a very slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips that reflected something that the boy did not expect. Amusement, perhaps? Or admiration?

He knows, T.K. thought, fighting down a nervous shudder.

The teacher's eyes locked with those of his young pupil as he gave a single nod of the head. He did indeed know; knew and had accepted T.K.'s sacrifice for Kari's sake.

With the exception of two individuals in the front of the room, the rest of the class went back to filling out their tests. But these other two only had eyes for the blond-haired boy who had just been the center of attention.

The eyes of one were filled with undisguised, undiluted anger. Damn, he did it again!

The other with a tearful and heartfelt adoration. Oh, T.K...

*********

The young, furry creature sat quietly at the edge of the mist-covered lake, watching the silent currents of wind as they caused the fog veiling the water to dance to the melodious sound of the waves licking the shore. He could, if he wished, lift the cloud of mist from the water, but he was well content to have it as it was.

A tuft of the boy's reddish fur dangled from his forehead and in front of his blue eyes, and once again he raised a paw to push it back into place, even though he knew that it would not stay there. But as sad as he was at the moment, he was not about to give up and let the troublesome lock obscure the wonderful morning view.

Why me? the boy thought, rising to his feet and brushing the mud from his bushy tail which stood up behind him. With all the warriors and soldiers and brave men in the village, why on earth me?

Well, in truth, he knew the answer to that question. It was now The Fifteenth Year, and to fulfill ancient rites, each of the provinces of the a'ladon, his people, were required to send a representative from their village to point high atop Mount Cypress to meet with a reclusive sect of priests who resided there. At that gathering, it was told, one of the representatives would be selected as an envoy of sorts, and would from there be sent alone into the wild lands of the north. No one in his village knew what such an undertaking would portend, as no one this far to the east of the land had ever been chosen.

In return, the rites proclaimed, the priests would appease the demon-god of the north, called D'assan, and keep the a'ladon safe from him for another decade and a half.

And why had he been selected? Well, the answer to that was quite simply: he was expendable.

He was at an age now where most young a'ladon males had determined what their lots in life were to be. Most of his friends had already been apprenticed to various productive members of society and were earning their keep in the village, and those who had not had the wealth of their parents to keep them from any serious labor or such. He himself was not so lucky.

No one, it seemed, would apprentice him. He had the well-merited reputation of being a dreamer, one who had no serious ambition in life and whose only talents were music and drawing. He had no real interest in fighting, and so could not be a warrior, and the village was filled to capacity and more with musicians and storytellers. Musicians and storytellers who did not have his rather... unique problem.

The boy had tried to keep it hidden, and had succeeded in doing so most of his life. Yet just over a year ago his secret had finally been uncovered at one of the numerous fairs that the villagers held every year. Sometime during his performance for the large gathering, the gifted boy had played a tune on one of his musical instruments (he had long since forgotten the particular song) that he had thought particularly moving. It had been a somewhat sad song, as he recalled. Something about a simple man accepting punishment for crimes that were not his own...

But as it happened, something magical within the boy's music had taken hold that day. Midway through his song a very prominent, very important member of the village's council had made his way to the stage and interrupted the festival to make a public announcement. The essence of that announcement had been a rather long-winded confession of every illegal, quasi-legal or unethical act that the man had been involved in since taking office. He had barely paused to catch his breath while recounting numerous bribes that he'd taken, various marital infidelities he'd been involved in, and so forth.

The crowd had been stunned, and village constables had quickly appeared to hustle the councilman off the stage. After some moments had passed the boy resumed his song, only to be interrupted minutes later by much the same thing. He had ignored the second man and attempted to continue the song, but soon another confessor joined him on the stage. Before long it became quite crowded with those anxious for public absolution of their moral failings, and moments later it was he whom the constables had forcibly removed from the stage.

The religious rulers of the village had met in emergency session that night, and after examining the boy had ordered that he no longer play within earshot of any inhabitants of the village. One of the elders had been heard to mention that the 'talent' had reappeared again after centuries of lying dormant, something that the others had seemed less than enthusiastic about.

Thereafter he had never again played for an audience, but still his music continued to have odd, unnatural effects even when he was alone. Depending on the tune, the boy could clear the mist off of a lake in the morning (like the one he sat in front of now), cause the most vibrant flower to suddenly wilt or a crippled bird to take flight again. The results he could evoke were as varied as his library of songs, which was impressive indeed.

That was why he was being sent away. The ancient rites only specified that the villages send a male of 'a certain age' (later clarified as anywhere from thirteen to thirty) to present themselves before the priests on the mountain, and to fulfill the task that they set him to if chosen. By sending him, the rulers of his province would kill two birds with one stone. Get rid of a nearly orphaned boy with a rather troublesome ability, and spare the village the loss of a more valuable, productive, member of society.

The boy almost cried at the thought... almost. Once again he would truly be alone, but that was nothing new. With his mother dead and his father a comatose cripple at home, he had never really had anyone anyway. No friends, no family... none who cared if he stayed or went.

But still, he thought as he placed his small whistle to his lips and started to play, it would be nice to find someone who cared...

******************

"Now what the hell is everybody gonna think, J.A.?" shouted Davis as the two left the detention room. "They'll think that I... that you... that you and I are... are..."

"Davis, please," the other boy answered, losing some patience as he turned on the other. "It's T.K., and it doesn't make you sound clever when you say it wrong. Say it with me. Tee... Kay..."

"J.A.! For Jack Ass! I've spent years trying to build up a great reputation and now... now you've..." The boy's face turned three different shades of purple as he sputtered the words, unable to finish the sentence.

"What about Kari? Don't you care that she was almost the one in here with you? That she would have missed her camera club thing?"

"This isn't about Kari!" Davis fumed. "Quit trying to change the subject! This is about me! Me, me, me!"

Kari met the two boys just outside the door to room R-7 as Davis pulled on his heavy winter coat. She had in her hands four small trophies, each emblazoned with the picture of a camera on it. As the door opened, her eyes immediately sought out T.K.'s face. He returned to her his gentle smile, and right away she dashed into his arms, dropping the awards and embracing him tightly.

The boy blushed a deep red, shuddering with barely suppressed joy at the warm greeting. "Mmm... nice to see you too," he muttered into her ear as she lovingly ran her fingers up and down his broad shoulders.

The pair stayed that way for a few moments, T.K. breathing in the delicious odor of the girl's hair until Davis cleared his throat. "Hey! What about me? Aren't you happy to see me?"

Kari's arms fell to her side as she released T.K. and turned on the brown-haired boy, fury burning in her eyes. "You? Why, I should... should... ooh!"

Davis grinned at T.K. "You see? She does like me."

Kari was ready to deliver a scathing retort to the boy, but suddenly she stopped as she heard, faintly, a delightful tune playing somewhere nearby. But it was not the type of music that she was accustomed to hearing in school, or even in that world, for that matter. No. The music that she was hearing set her in the mind of something that had happened the previous year. "M... Mylam?" she whispered quietly, her brow furrowing as she glanced about for the music's source. She pulled once on the blond-haired boy's sleeve. "T.K.?"

T.K. fell silent, listening for the music as well. After a moment he nodded at the girl with a confirming smile on his face. It was indeed one of the songs that their friend Prince, then later, King Mylam had played for them in the world of the a'ladon.

"Mylam?" Davis queried, straining to hear whatever it was that the other two were listening to. "Who the hell is 'Mylam'?"

Kari pursed her lips, then inquisitively opened the door that the two boys had just exited. She could swear that the sound was coming from just inside...

Instantly, as the girl's hand left the knob, a ferocious wind picked up behind the trio. A wind inside the school of such severity that it started pushing the three of them through the doorway... and through the doorway was no longer leading into room R-7. A burst of rainbow colors dazzled the pair for a moment and together they were once again blown back into back to the land of the squirrel-like digimon, the a'ladon.

And blown in right behind them, screaming bloody murder and with a handful of T.K.'s sweater, tumbled Davis.

******************************

"Woooaaaaahhhh!" cried T.K. as he plummeted through the air, clutching at passing tree branches in an attempt to slow his fall. After a few seconds of wondering just how badly it would hurt when he landed the boy slammed violently into a mist-covered body of water, the breath exiting his lungs in a single gasp.

T.K. ignored the stinging pain as he was dragged under the water, weighed down by the heavy sweater that he had worn to school that day. Desperately he shrugged it off and then let the winter boots slide from his feet as well as he kicked back to the surface of whatever body of water it was that he had landed in.

Seconds later T.K.'s head broke the surface of the water and he exhaled deeply, gasping for air. After a cough or two he peered about and called out into the fog. "Kari! Kari, where are you?"

"T.K.?" he heard the girl's voice faintly in the distance.

"Kari, don't move!" he called out, darting off in the direction of her voice. "Just keep talking so I can find you!"

Then the young boy heard another loud splash in the same direction, and moments later heard Kari cry out again. "Davis? What are you... no, get off me! Davis don't pull on me, just swim!" she shouted.

T.K. kicked feverishly in the direction of the girl's voice, and moments later came upon the both of them as Kari tried feverishly to free herself from the boy's terrified grip as he thrashed about in the water. T.K. was on them in an instant and grabbed Davis by the scruff of his fur coat. "Davis!" he shouted into the other's ear, trying to get his attention. "Davis! Just take off the coat and swim!"

But now it was too late. Kari had managed to free herself from the boy, and as she paddled away Davis went limp in T.K.'s grasp. The blond boy quickly placed an arm around the other's neck in order to keep him afloat and leaned back in the water, wiping the excess water from his nose. "What happened?" he asked Kari, who had already shed her coat.

The girl coughed twice, then wiped several wet tendrils of hair away from her eyes as she smiled at the boy. "I think he fainted."

"He... what? Oh, great," T.K. muttered, awkwardly paddling backwards as he fiddled with the zipper on Davis' heavy coat. After a minute or so he stopped and sighed in frustration. "And I can't get this thing off of him."

"C'mon," the girl said, turning around in the water and starting off in the opposite direction. "Before we hit, I think I saw some land over this way."

T.K. frowned at the unconscious Davis, then turned his grip on the boy into a lifesaver's hold and dog-paddled after Kari. The water soaking into the other boy's jacket made his weight substantial, and T.K. was forced to call for Kari to stop every few minutes or so that he could catch his breath.

"Oh come on, pokey!" the girl said with a teasing smile.

"Do you want to do this?" the boy called back irritably, shaking his head to get his hair out of his eyes.

Kari only shook her head primly in response. T.K. once again looked back at his charge, silently willing the other boy to wake up that he might be forced to fend for himself. After a moment of staring at him, though, another thought struck T.K. "Hey, wait a minute! Why am I doing this again?" he called to Kari, indicating Davis with a nod of his head.

The girl seemed to ponder her response. "Because saving Davis' life is more important than the satisfaction that we'd get from watching him drown."

T.K. stared at the girl in response.

Kari couldn't suppress a playful grin any longer. "It might help if you keep telling yourself that."

"Ha, ha," the boy replied drolly, then shifted his grip around Davis' neck and again set off after Kari.

It was only a few minutes later (though it seemed like hours to the fatigued boy) when Kari and T.K. finally crawled out onto the shore, T.K. dragging Davis' limp body a short distance from the water and dropping him there. Then, with a single, exhausted sigh, the boy collapsed face-first into the sand and made a sad attempt to strip the water from his hair with his equally wet hands.

Kari rested her chin in a hand and gave the shirtless boy a blatantly flirtatious stare as he tried to dry himself. "Thanks, T.K.," she said with a gentle smile.

The boy rested on his elbows and looked up at her. "For what?"

"For being you," the girl answered simply. It was all she really needed to say. She looked around at the thick forest surrounding the lake. "This isn't exactly the return that I had in mind."

T.K. shivered, half-naked as stood up and glared down enviously at Davis, who still had on not only his winter coat but his shoes as well. "Tell me about it. Not only are we lost and freezing, we also managed to bring along a friend."

"T.K., come on. He's really not that bad."

One of the boy's eyebrows went up guardedly. "I thought he was 'the silly, bigheaded jerk who can't take a hint'?"

Kari's cheeks quickly turned pink. "T.K.! Don't you dare tell him I said that!"

"H... hello?" a quiet, nervous voice whispered at the pair from a nearby cluster of trees. T.K. quickly rose to his feet and went to Kari's side. "Hello?" he responded.

Both of the children watched as a young a'ladon crept forward from the grove, a small blade like Mylam's strapped to his side and a harp slung over his furry shoulder. Around his neck dangled a tin whistle like the one that their friend had once carried, but this boy was most definitely not Mylam.

Whereas the prince had carried himself with a confident, almost conceited demeanor, this boy seemed shy... almost to the point of being skittish. While his red fur and blue eyes made him look somewhat like their friend, he had none of the regal bearing of the other. And his hooded cloak was clearly not made for anyone of significant standing, being frayed around the edges and showing patches all about it from having been mended countless times.

"Hello," said Kari with a friendly voice, stepping forward to meet the newcomer. "My name is Kari. And this," she nodded to the boy at her side, "is T.K."

The other looked at them, a questioning look in his eyes. Then he stopped and removed a small medallion from around his neck and glanced at it. He knew those names. Every a'ladon child of an age to remember their parent's bedtime stories knew those names, though the priesthood frowned on using them. Of using those names instead of... "Lady Hikari? Lord Takeru?" he asked in wide-eyes astonishment. Without waiting for a response, the child dropped to his knees and bowed low before the two, genuflecting in submission.

T.K. looked sideways at Kari, bowing his head and lowering his voice. "Here we go again," he muttered.