DISCLAIMER: I don't own Digimon, but I do own the original characters introduced in this story and my other stories (except where stated otherwise here or elsewhere by myself).

A/N: Hello again – if you're reading this, then evidently I am truly being committed to this rewrite, which is definitely a good thing for all. This chapter, again, was beta read by Crazyeight. Enjoy!

This chapter was, well, completely chewed up by Word and this website, at least in terms of formatting, so I have a special request for reviews. If you spot anything that seems like it should be in bold or italics, or any really long paragraphs that seem like they should be split up, or any sections where two characters talk on the same line, could you make a note of it please. I've tried to fix all I can, but there's a limit. Cheers!

DIMENSIONS

BOOK ONE

Links

Rewrite

By Blazing Chaos

CHAPTER TWO

The Unexpected Discoveries

WEDNESDAY, 14TH NOVEMBER 2007

16:29 JST (Japan Standard Time)

Tokyo is one of the largest cities on earth and a result, as any of its residents would be quick to inform you, that meant that it becomes very hard to get away from the constant hustle, bustle and noise. Every corner you turn, every step you take, you risk accidentally walking straight into someone coming the way, not least if you're not paying attention.

Which brings us to this particular child who, in spite of often being so far up in the clouds that breathing should have been difficult, somehow managed to hide a small (yet larger than your average pet) dinosaur in the city for a few months without anyone finding out about him.

Well, that wasn't exactly true. Certain elements of the government had known of his presence right from the start when he had first been born into the world, and it hadn't taken long for him to be spotted. Yet, for every person quickly laughed at for claiming in some local paper that there was a monster in Shinjuku Central Park, the cunning (or perhaps last resort) hiding place for this creature for most of the day, there were two dozen who had merely dismissed it as a trick of their eyes.

Nonetheless, it had been quite bizarre that this boy had not only managed to hide what was commonly called a Digital Monster in the midst of this crowded megacity, but had actually walked out in public with him too, under the pretence of a Halloween costume.

It had been a miracle it had worked, and that people were far too polite to ask. Those that did, usually children, were impressionable and imaginative enough to believe that he was simply a piece of fabric over a friend, albeit a fairly complex and impressive one. After all, Digimon had been a fairly popular series a few years before, and still had its fair share of fans. Their mothers, on the other hand, were usually far too busy to care.

In the end, however, their secret never lasted – other Digital Monsters, Digimon, also quickly burst into the real world (known as bioemergence), and left no doubt of their presence. And these were no ordinary, scared and confused bioemergences, who unfortunately had to be put down like rabid dogs. No, these were on a mission, a mission that would stand in the way of nothing, and one which they had been given by their all-powerful master.

The Devas.

The Juggernaut and Mihiramon, an 'unexpected freak weather event' with a centralised storm vortex and thunder and lightning so constant it sounded like screaming, something supposedly from the very back of any meteorological handbook (even if investigations by some turned up nothing).

Sandiramon and the closure of a subway route for a month due to an 'unexpected well collapse' above one of its stations, leading to the writing off of a whole train (even if it never went to the scrappers).

Sinduramon. A fault at the hydroelectric dam.

Pajiramon and Vajramon, rumours suggesting either an 'escaped prisoner with a gun' or a marketing campaign, and later water damage at the stadium.

Indramon – nothing but poor construction of a particular highway using substandard concrete, and leading, of course, to sanctions against the contractor, with whom Hypnos was currently in a rather interesting legal battle.

All were explainable, at least to those not there at the time, and all passed people by. The sudden run of bizarre accidents and incidents all over town did leave some conspiracy theorists suspicious about poor quality construction due to a cult within the government leading to choosing the wrong contractors, but ironically this simply made the public believe the government even more. After all, conspiracy theorists were always making up nonsense about stuff based on little evidence, and reality could never be that interesting.

And then came Vikaralamon.

The damage was so extensive right from the start, not least thanks to the long series of sharp earthquakes preceding it and being widely registered on every Richter scale from Fuji to Aso. People were, as a result, on their guard, but even an earthquake, particularly in such a prepared country as Japan, never did damage like this. The huge boar had cut a swath through the centre of Shinjuku, buildings devastated and the military and Digimon Tamers presence had been undeniable. The targets weren't notable or contained enough to be a terrorist bomb, the damage pattern didn't match the earthquake with weaker buildings somehow surviving whilst stronger ones crumbled, and, most importantly of all, everyone saw it. If not personally, then through a hurried piece to camera on the news, a shaky piece of phone footage, or the sight of helicopters roaring overhead.

Digimon were here to stay. As quiet as things had gone in the aftermath, no-one was denying it.

And yet…then, after the even more catastrophic devastation of the D-Reaper, a huge red mass covering vast areas of Shinjuku and swallowing everything inside, and its defeat by the Digimon Tamers, everything had gone completely silent again. No attacks. No defence, either.

The Digimon were gone.

Regardless, the damage still showed on every street corner. There was a huge bill still to foot, and doubtless the area would never be the same again, not least with how many had sworn never to return to the blasted area at the heart of it all.

Some, on the other hand, never wanted to leave, never wanted to forget those memories. Which brings us back to this messy brown haired boy, his trademark blue hooded jumper and grey pants barely noticed thanks to the far more prominent yellow-rimmed goggles on his head, wear from all the use and misuse of their unknown former owner pressed into every surface. Even though the boy himself had taken good care of them when he could, the vast majority of his own damage had come from battle after battle after battle, explosions and debris taking their toll.

It made no difference – they weren't used (much) for seeing underwater. They, instead, in their little own way, defined him as a person. He was a Gogglehead.

And he fitted that description down to a T, in looks, in personality, and in sheer dumb luck.

"Why'd she have to catch me doodling again?" he thought. Didn't saving the world get them any time off school? Or any slack at all?

Apparently not, at least to their teacher, Nami Asagi. This was in spite of seeing them (in fact, rather more of them than any of the parties concerned would've wished) fighting the D-Reaper as incredibly powerful Digimon. They had saved life, family and city from harm. They had been heroes.

Yet she had still assigned them all their work to catch up on from their days out in the Digital World. It was only marginally more than the rest of the class too, for everyone had missed a lot when the school was closed.

Appeals that they had taken the initiative and supposedly 'studied' on their brief sojourn in the school whilst fighting back had unfortunately fallen on asprin-blocked ears.

The world should have seemed so full of life again, the blight upon its existence gone, but they had thrown the baby out with the bathwater, and so much of what this child had fought for had been lost. It hurt, not least because for the most part those around him were cheering for their continued existence. Outside of the group, only their parents seemed most capable of understanding, and that was because they had seen how happy the Digimon made their children.

They knew that life had to go on; they knew the lesson which all children eventually learnt:

Life can be such a disappointment.

The messy haired Tamer didn't need to look up to see the building he turned towards, the Matsuki Bakery, one like so many on this quiet (at least in Tokyo terms) residential backwater. Short advertising signs, promoting the day's special offers, the headline in the newspapers and sometimes just a mascot of the establishment decorated every shop, and this was no exception. Right outside, sure enough, was one such thing, hung from a bar and gently moving in the autumnal breeze. On its face, a large somewhat rough image of a red face, a pair of bat ears out to either side.

He paused, almost out of a show of respect, as a true frown graced his face. Not about homework, not about boredom, but about the name of this funny creature.

"Guilmon."

Far from simply being the name of the unique bread roll they sold here, this creature had been a part of their family, and their bakery's uniquely real mascot. At least, up until recently. That was why Takato had drawn the sign, even though it was his father's idea.

As much as he had been praised for his abilities (and the third useful application of them, after Guilmon and Growlmon's original drawings), he couldn't help but notice it was a poor imitation. Every blemish in the colouring, every shaky line, even the way the eyes just didn't look 'right'.

Was he forgetting his friend? Once or twice, he had found himself looking at the few photos they had of them as a group, like from their ill-fated holiday to Okinawa. That had been the first time he had seen a mega level, and they had been surprised to make it out alive. Could he keep that face in his mind? It seemed impossible; he'd been in his imagination since he'd first been conceived, since, of course, that was all the bread-scoffing monster had once been, before those almost-mystical Digital Gnomes had played their part.

And he would see him again – they had a promise, after all.

He knew that wasn't the case, however. He had a promise to Guilmon, not the other way around, and grounded here on earth, he didn't know whether he would be able to fulfil it. As much as he would once have moved heaven and earth to protect his friend, he now found himself impotent to move anything at all.

Wandering forward, he left the memories behind, putting his key in the lock and pushing his way through the side door straight into the warmth of their store room to the left of the shop itself. The smell of bread would have filled anyone else's noses with a scent that could only be followed by an urge to buy and eat bread (which probably explained Guilmon's voracious eating habits ever since he had first come to this bakery all those months ago), but for this boy it simply told him that the bread was ready and fresh, something learnt from so many days of working in here. God only knew what it was like for his parents, working in the role ever since his dad had given up his office job when he was only a little kid and his parents had taken the risk of self-employment.

Seeing her smile as she said thanks to a customer and passed change, it was clear that his mother had no regrets about doing so. Sure, life was somewhat dependent on the bricks and mortar around them staying intact, and the 'rainy day fund' that the woman had been so right to set up, but the building had rather miraculously survived through the whole D-Reaper episode.

Heck, it had even been used to make bread.

"Late again, Takato?"

Was it his turn to help out on the till? Takato hoped so dearly that she was just making a comment.

"Uh, yeah."

He held in his sigh of relief as she simply gave a slight smile, turning back to close the till door. "Well, just make the most of it while the evenings are still fairly long. Did you go to the park?"

"…yeah."

"You got a detention again, didn't you?"

How did she always know? Takato sighed, nodding, leading the woman, real name Mie Matsuki, to roll her eyes and cross her arms. She made the boy feel like he was seven again and being scolded for eating the bread too soon.

"You've got a lot of work to catch up on young man, and the world isn't going to sit by and let you mess around." Pausing, she looked to the ceiling for a moment. "I know you're upset, but…"

"Mom, I'm fine, and I know I need to pay more attention. There's just a lot going on lately – the temporary buildings are rubbish and we're always joking that Guilmon could knock them down." At least they were lucky enough not to always have to use them; one end of the school was declared structurally unsafe and wouldn't be reopening for a while. But, it seemed that, whatever hit it, the school would still be open in some shape or form.

The image of his partner charging through the structures just to bundle him to the ground in greeting flashed across his mind. He wanted to smile at the idea, but he simply couldn't. Would that hole ever be filled?

Mie gave an unfounded chuckle, not believing his words for a moment but being distracted by the customer bell chiming nearby. "That's good dear. Your father's in the back doing the taxes so don't disturb him."

Takato glanced down the hallway to the family's computer, one not exactly up-to-date and currently being used by a hunched over tall man, the screen not at all to his height. A befallen look crossed the boy's face. "So much for doing Ms. Asagi's homework."

Wandering down, and checking that his mother wasn't noticing him not following her advice, he peered over at the screen.

"Solitaire?"

"You caught me," the man said dryly, turning on his chair with a smile. It was pretty clear where Takato's unbounded optimism had come from. "How was school?"

"Meh, boring as always. What happened to taxes?"

"They were just as boring."

"Uh…huh."

"Takehiro, Takato, are you talking back there?" The call down the hallway made the pair quickly react, the man flicking the spreadsheet back into life on the screen and his son instead rushing across to sit on the sofas, flicking on the television.

"No mom," Takato called, grins of camaraderie and conspiracy flashed between man and boy.

"Sure…Takehiro, you know we're close to the deadline."

"I know mom."

"And don't call me that!"

The man stifled a chuckle as he returned to his tedious task, Takato's attention finally shifting to the news program barking away from the television screen, a piece to camera ending.

"…leaving many stranded, back to the studio."

Regardless of the severity of the news, the issues it presented or even the comedy value of it all, the pair of anchors, one male, one female, did the typical thing and continued on as if nothing had ever been said.

"A new computer virus is spreading rapidly across the computers of the country, seemingly invulnerable to any form of anti-virus protection, and leaving the security industry in disarray."

The female presenter continued the story. "The virus displays unusual behaviour in that, rather than having a set pattern of work, it acts almost completely randomly. It has been seen to swap files between computers, corrupt data, and change system configurations."

"Attempts to neutralise the virus simply fail as the programs used fall victim to it when run. Itsuki Nobuyuki works for a Kyoto internet security company." The screen split in two, half from an office somewhere and half remaining in the studio as a middle-aged dark-haired man looking rather tired began to speak.

"That's correct. I have been responsible within my company for creating a patch for this, and although we have had limited success we do not believe there to be any real threat."

"Why is that?"

"Once the virus has done its work, it vanishes without a trace and without exception. Although it causes temporary damage, it will eventually run itself out it seems."

"Like a bush fire?"

"Yes, exactly. It's a hazard for now, but we doubt it will stay that way for long."

"Thanks Itsuki, and…"

"What?" interrupted his father, a surprised and irritated tone to his voice, furious clicking following. "Where'd it go?"

Takato glanced up and across, pushing himself to his feet and wandering across to the computer, just as the man looked ready to bash the screen in the hopes that it would fix whatever problem it had somehow caused itself.

"What's wrong Dad?"

"It must be that virus. I saved the file I was working on and went to look up some rates, and when I came back it was gone."

"Did you check the trash can?"

The man nodded. "Yeah – no luck at all."

Letting loose a groan from his lips; he pressed a hand against his forehead.

"Now I'll have to start all over again."

"Great, I'll never get Ms. Asagi's homework done."

Takehiro shook his head, climbing to his feet and gesturing to the swivel chair in front of the fairly ancient machine "Go ahead; I haven't the energy to start over."

"Really? But mom's been nagging you all week."

"Now I'll have an excuse."

His father wore the biggest grin as Takato sat down, nodding warily."Well, better you than me."

He shuffled the mouse as he tried to remember exactly what his teacher had told them to do for their maths homework, giving his father a chance to refresh his memory. "So, what's going on? If you've got an essay to write this evening, your mother will give you an earful for leaving it until the last moment again."

Takato shook his head, leaning his head on his shoulder as he opened up the web browser, a bored look already on his face before he even began. "Nah – she's saving on paper by having us use this website to do all our maths homework. And worse still, this way she knows when we submit it."

"And if you left it until the last moment."

"Yeah. Sometimes I think she doesn't realise we have lives."

The man laughed, shaking his head in disbelief as the educational website came onto the screen for all its lack of glory. "Son, people have been saying that about teachers since my time."

"Yeah – how long ago was that again?"

"Careful," Takehiro replied to his son's gentle teasing with a smile, shaking his head. "Just try to get on her good side again, okay? After all, having saved the world, she's got to give you at least a bit of credit."

Takato groaned.

"I know it sounds like a lot of hard work, but…"

"No, I mean, the computer's died on me."

"Oh." Takehiro glanced up to the screen, now nothing but a blue screen with threatening writing about the risks of what had just happened scrawled across it, one which made the boy groan again. "It's probably that virus they're all talking about. Try control, alt, delete."

The boy nodded, reaching across and pressing the trio, but to no avail as the screen stayed constant.

His father shrugged. "That's all I know. I prefer a pen and paper personally – I can never understand how anyone could put up with these things."

"Great, now I'll have to reboot it and wait about a decade for it to start."

Even with something as definite as photographic evidence, Takato doubted Ms. Asagi would believe his excuses. He would simply have to put up with the thing and beg it worked. Sighing and bending over, he reached for the power button on the computer itself underneath the desk reluctantly, his father giving a light smile.

"Think, when it's done, you'll have all that free time to…"

The computer suddenly flickered back into life again, sitting on the website again without even the slightest hint of what had just happened, the loading icon finished and the cursor waiting impatiently for some form of input.

"Hey Takato, it's working again – what did you do?"

"Uh…" The boy came up from under the desk, blinking in bemusement at the screen. "Nothing, I didn't even press it."

Unbeknownst to all was the reason why the computer had just suddenly burst back into life again and got on with working as it should have from the start. For, in that brief instant when Takato's finger had been over the button, an unseen small flicker of red light had sparked from one to the other. The only sign at all of anything out of the ordinary was Takato scratching his finger, oddly sensitive all of a sudden but fading quickly back to normality. The boy himself was too confused at the system's miraculous recovery to consciously notice it.

"Well, that's just how they can be I guess," Takehiro shrugged his shoulders, dismissing it all too soon as being just 'another of those annoying things that computers do.'

"Yeah, suppose so," Takato replied, unconvinced and looking at the screen rather bewilderedly before sighing. He sat up as his father gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"I'll leave you to it. Enjoy!"

"Are you kidding dad?" He peered back over his shoulder, but his father was already walking back towards the kitchen in between the shop and the living room, looking rather happier than when he was actually being productive with the taxes.

Looking back to the screen, the boy groaned as he finally opened up the questions, seeing they numbered at least two dozen.

"Great - not only online, but more questions too."Just what went through that woman's mind? His eyes wandered to the first one, dismissing it off-hand as impossible before continuing through, quickly deciding that this homework would be mind-numbingly boring and about as easy as, well, fighting the D-Reaper. "I might be exaggerating too." Even the D-Reaper wasn't comparable.

He flicked back to the desktop, pondering taking his father's path and simply playing a game of cards. How exactly was this single piece of homework meant to help him anyway? Given the sheer amount he was given, why would this one make any difference alone?

Then again, that sort of reasoning never worked with Ms. Asagi, and one of his friends, Kazu, had tried it plenty of times. Groaning, Takato retreated from the solitaire icon, deciding that, as much as he wanted a distraction, after all his father had said he couldn't exactly let the man down.

And that was when he saw it. It had passed his glance every time before, that innocuous words document just crouching there on his computer, its title merely a simple date.

131107

The date of the day before, no least. Where had it come from? Was this what the computer has spat out when it had crashed? Or was it a virus? Takato, despite being surrounded constantly by Digital things, ironically didn't find himself with much of a grasp of general computing, mainly since usually computers weren't trying to blow him up. Or, at least, not succeeding.

Shrugging, he decided that he would chance it. His father had already lost the tax details, after all, so what was the worst that could happen?

In spite of his dismissal of the risks involved, he found himself strangely uneasy and reluctant to open it, and took a moment to see what was truly inside: a large page of text; not a virus, random numbers and letters, or even something his dad had been working on.

"That's weird." Just what was this thing, and where did it come from? Was it…that virus they had mentioned on the television? Why would anyone even want to make a virus to do this sort of thing?

13th November 2007

"Huh…looks like a diary."

Life is boring. So boring. School is boring, and full of cows who are too busy worrying about their fashion style to even realise what they nearly lost. I mean, come on, I expected some praise or something for all the work we did.

"Work?"

Ugh, I sound like Kazu. I should use the delete key more on this.

"Kazu? Do I know this person? Or maybe they're from my school?"

I don't miss not meeting up with him…okay, so maybe I don't hate him that much. I wish I could meet up with the others again though. I feel like I haven't seen Takato and the others in months, and I saw them every day until we lost our partners. Sure, I hated camping out in the middle of nowhere and not knowing whether you were still going to be alive the next day, but at least it was fun, and at least I had people to talk to. All it's made me realise is how little anyone in my stupid school cares about me, and how little I care about them. I miss Renamon so much now. I hope she's okay.

Takato paused, blinking in surprise at what was so amazingly clear to him now. This was…Rika's. "Rika writes a diary? This is a diary, right? If it is…I can't read it! It's hers! It's her…wait…is that my name?"

I wonder how Takato is doing.

"No, come on Takato! Resist it…"

Maybe he's still complaining about all the homework he gets – he wouldn't shut up about it at one point.

"Ugh, Rika would kill me for doing this."

Still, it must be pretty nice to be with friends at school. Even Renamon couldn't appear to my stupid classmates, they're have a fit. But mom's so obsessed with me succeeding and not losing my social class that I haven't even tried bothering asking her to move elsewhere, maybe even to their school.

Takato sighed. This was all so personal. He felt a rising well of guilt in the pit of his stomach, but found himself powerless to stop reading, his eyes working on their own.

It'd be great to be able to chat to Takato and all of the others every day. It always seems like something stops me from just calling them up and asking them out, and without Renamon I can't exactly wander around the city randomly in the hope we'd find them.

Okay, okay, I'll admit that I wasn't writing this diary entry just to go on and on about how boring school is.

Takato raised an eyebrow.

And I just noticed I wrote his name three times. God, it's like I can't get him out of my bloody head. Stupid, stupid, stupid…jmgeueuhtrdgrdhrdgkhgrdkhkgdrbrkh

Both brows now furrowed in bewilderment and suspicion. "That was weird." And what was she talking about? Was she talking about his name? Why? And why couldn't she get him out of her head? Had he done something wrong?

Now, he couldn't help but read on; even his guilt had given up to curiosity.

Grandma just asked why I hit the keyboard. Like I could really tell her – she's helpful most of the time but I'm sure with something like this she'd be just like mom. At least she lets me out of the house to do things without nagging me endlessly about where I've gone or whether I want to go shopping. I. Don't. Like. Clothes. I thought mom and I were doing better – why doesn't she just realise that I don't care about fashion? We must have some common ground, right?

These were Rika's personal feelings…things he didn't even know about. How could he learn this without even talking to her? He felt like he was betraying her trust, but the sight of his name on the next line once again forced him onwards.

Yeah right. I need to get out of this place, talk to someone. Takato always seems to know how

NO! Stupid mind. Stop it.

"She wants to talk to me? And what's with stopping mid sentence? I thought people who wrote diaries always did it properly. Then again, this is Rika."

Why do I even care? I just want to meet up with the others, that's all. I wouldn't mind an excuse…to meet up, I mean.

With them.

Not just him.

"Stop…reading!" At the back of his mind, Takato already knew that his homework wasn't going to ever get done.

Oh, I give up. I miss him. I have fun around him, except when he's obsessing over what's obviously going on with him and Jeri. Even the dumb-dumb twins must know that's going on – it's so cringeworthy, I hate it. She always gets attention from him without having to insult him or call him names. I hate that. So much more than I want to.

"Wait…wait…wait…wait…wait…they know? Is it really that obvious? Wait, why does Rika hate it? Hold on, she misses me?"

Fshfshgushgwsguhu

I want to delete that. I want to delete all of this. Why am I even still writing? What on earth made me want to write this thing? Stupid idea of trying to get this crap out of my head. At least this way no-one can laugh at me for it. So I think of weird things, don't we all? Takato definitely does.

Ugh, him again!

"She doesn't like thinking of me?"

So what? I just think he's funny. He's Takato, he's a walking disaster, and I just like watching him trip over his own feet – everyone does. It's just what I like about him, that's all. Just that and another thousand other things.

"What? Wait…she…likes stuff about me? I thought she hated how I seem...well…am all clumsy. This is so confusing."

Dgdggdrjhbrughdrkjgbgdurfhg

I need to stop hitting my head on his thing or my headache will last the rest of my lie.

Great. The key next to g doesn't work. Uck.

Rika

So.

He'd done it.

He'd read every last word.

He knew every last word, as much as his urge not to break Rika's trust in him now tried to make him forget it all. His mind was too molten to even try such a thing – everything had been flipped on its head by this sudden discovery, one thrown onto his lap all of a sudden.

There was no doubt about that either – this had to be that virus they mentioned on the television, it was just too much of a coincidence to be anything else.

Maybe that was where his dad's tax return had gone? Of course, he knew that, just like Rika, he was avoiding something, something never said but so painfully obvious in-between the lines…

I haven't seen Takato and the others in weeks

I wonder how Takato is doing.

It'd be great to be able to chat to Takato and all of the others every day. It always seems like something stops me from just calling them up.

Rika didn't even have most of their numbers – not much more than his, Henry's and Jeri's. Maybe Ryo too, although he somehow doubted she used it. He doubted she used any of them really, apart from those rare occasions when his ordinary days were interrupted by a surprise phone call from a girl who once wouldn't have given him the time of day.

And I just noticed I wrote his name three times. God, it's like I can't get him out of my bloody head. Stupid, stupid, stupid…jmgeueuhtrdgrdhrdgkhgrdkhkgdrbrkh

She seemed so…stressed. Maybe depressed even? Why was she slamming her head against the keyboard? Could having him in her head be that bad?

Like I could really tell her – she's helpful most of the time but I'm sure with something like this she'd be just like mom.

I need to get out of this place, talk to someone. Takato always seems to know how

NO! Stupid mind. Stop it.

Why do I even care? I just want to meet up with the others, that's all. I wouldn't mind an excuse…to meet up, I mean.

With them.

Not just him.

Oh, I give up. I miss him. I have fun around him

She always gets attention from him without having to insult him or call him names. I hate that. So much more than I want to.

I want to delete all of this.

Ugh, him again!

It's just what I like about him, that's all. Just that and another thousand other things.

He hoped this was all a practical joke, maybe just Kazu trying to fool with him. But the boy couldn't even use a computer without hitting it a lot, let alone hack or do anything even remotely complicated.

Maybe Rika was having a laugh? Maybe she was writing it for something? Maybe she was drunk? Did she even drink? It would be a nice explanation

Anything but what the simplest one was. Takato felt a lump in his throat, bigger than guilt, bigger than worry, bigger even than fear, and far more like a combination of all three.

Rika seemed to be falling for him.

Rika was falling for him.

Rika had fallen for him.

The last line of Rika's diary was quickly revised, a scrambled addition to its end.

Rikagdughertuhgrtughrugheughreughedugherugehrguiehrvuehgbrbhuhrdasfhhjksfhkj

TO BE CONTINUED…

Heh, hopefully, this diary entry was a lot more interesting and complex than the original. I still don't entirely understand the whole 'smoke and mirrors' not mentioning the actual names thing I did originally, since there was really no point to do so, but ah well. Seemed like a good idea at the time, I suppose.

Anyhow, hope you enjoyed this, and be sure to let me know what you think. Or not. As always, I leave feedback entirely up to the discretion of the reader.

Until next time…

B.C.