Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.

Tangled Up in My Heart

Chapter: 03/ A Path Forward

Rika's ride was waiting for her in her apartment's parking lot. It gleamed in the light of the morning, almost a sun by itself, bright yellow with purple highlights, much like that of her digimon partner from her childhood. She ran her hand over its handles before swinging her leg over the seat and sitting herself down, adjusting ever so slightly for comfort.

She doubted she would ever forget how her motorcycle – The Kyubi as it came to be called – became a part of her life. How her friends learned about her growing interest in motorcross and conspired to get her to learn to drive, eventually pooling their money together in preparation for her birthday. Their secrecy didn't last long however, due in part to the nightmarish amount of bureaucratic tape they found themselves up against, and Rika herself sensing their growing distress over it and ultimately cornering the stressed Takato on everyone's behavior.

She traced her thumb over the handle thoughtfully at that, remembering how terrible Takato could be when keeping secrets from her.

Like that time he spoiled Jeri's surprise party for me, she thought, her grip tightening. She remembered that day well. Takato's fumbling attempts to keep her distracted until the appointed time had, inadvertently, been where everything began for them. At least, where it began for her feelings towards him.

After all, that day had been the first time he asked her out on something like a date.

Not officially of course. Aside from being roped in to distracting her by Jeri of all people alongside her mother, he had been blabbering on and on, trying to make sure that she wouldn't arrive home too early, making her fantasize that a Locomon digimon was blowing through the city just to get through listening to his tongue-twisting himself, until quite by accident, in typical Takato manner, the suggestion to go Cherry Blossom watching tumbled out of his mouth. The issue of there not being any blossoms in bloom yet aside, that it was about just the two of them going to such an event contained so many suggestions in her precocious mind that Rika couldn't simply ignore the request – and hadn't ignored it since – despite the naïve, twelve-year old Takato being utterly baffled as to why she grew embarrassed and angry with him at the suggestion.

Rika reached behind her and took up her helmet. As she did so, she paused, looking at her reflection in its visor. Outwardly, she still looked normal, save for her flat expression. It felt so much like she were looking at a lie. She didn't feel fine. She didn't want to go to a photoshoot or even be at her new home. She wanted to be on the road. She wanted…

Again, the image of Takato's horror-filled face broke across her mind and her grip tightened around her helmet.

Takato…

Grinding her teeth together, she pulled her helmet on and within short order, she drove off, feeling all the while that she had left an important part of herself behind.

###

"Thank you for arriving on such short notice," Watanabe, her agent, greeted with a wide smile beaming on his face, hands outstretched and welcoming. Watanabe was a thick-set man; decently fit for his age and handsome as well by anyone's standards. While Rika couldn't say that she liked him – in part because she didn't much enjoy modeling work – she didn't dislike him either. The man loved his work and his passion showed, which she could respect.

"How long is this going to take?" she asked, wishing she didn't sound impatient as he did his job to the best of his abilities for her 'career.' Watanabe, as always, took her tone in stride though, having become used to her eccentricities during their short time together. Rika supposed he worked with worse over the years.

"Ah, not long, I promise you," Watanabe said, clasping his hands together and bowing politely. "Simply an hour of your time and no more."

Rika grimaced. An hour? That was hardly short, especially with how she felt. Her head continued to throb behind her temples, albeit dialed back considerably. She didn't want to consider what all the lighting and cameras would end up doing to her. She didn't like dealing with them on a good day, and here she was, actually throwing herself into this when she felt utterly terrible.

But…I can't just not do something… a part of her thought. Might as well earn a paycheck at least…

Still, in spite of that, she found she didn't really want to be here.

"That sounds like it's going to take a while," she grunted. "Any chance we can speed things up? I had a bad night."

Watanabe tilted his head to one side, inspecting her.

"You do look a bit out of sorts… Well, we'll see what we can do. Anyway, about the details for today's shoot…"

Watanabe explained things to her and introduced her to a representative of the company she was to be photographed for, though she barely paid attention to him beyond the bare bone basics. Today she was modeling for a summer billboard. Nothing involving a bikini, Watanabe knowing quite well her feelings with regards to how she presented herself for others' viewing. Rather instead, she was to wear a fashionable tube-shirt and dress along with a wide hat. Her mother posed for something similar about ten years ago, recalling it in part from when the malevolent digimon, IceDevimon, stalked her. A fairly run of the mill outfit in Rika's eyes, but she was at least comfortable with it.

Rika took her time getting changed. Slipping off her red vest and following it with her low cut, white, sleeveless t-shirt, she took up the strapless tube-shirt and grimaced at it before turning her gaze toward her bare self in the mirror. As she had that morning, she inspected herself for any signs of injuries, and just as before she saw and felt none. She frowned at their absence, finding herself unsettled uncertain as to what to make of it.

I was conscious, she thought, thinking back on the few memories she had from last night. I know that much now. What…does that mean though? Was I too out of it to fight back and he just took advantage of me or…what?

She shuddered, remembering Takato over her, pressing her to the bed with his body as he ground into her, his face contorting with pleasure from their union. But there was something else in there. Something that lay just beyond her reach. She was conscious during that time, and she remembered even before then, helping the drunken Takato to the bathroom, too sick to get there properly on his own.

He did jump at me though and swung me up in his arms, she frowned. He…could do things. He could have done things to me.

The bruise on his neck though… What she recalled of it didn't appear to be anywhere near the sort of damage she would have done to him if she thought he was going to rape her, drunk or not.

Did I…let him make love to me?

She drew down her jeans and quietly replaced it with the skirt. Kami knew that she had fantasizedon and off about the two of them making love over the years as her attraction to him grew while her body matured, typical of puberty and something that left her embarrassed and uncertain…even ashamed at times, remembering how hard he had fallen for their mutual friend, Jeri Katou, and how that hadn't stopped her from imagining herself 'comforting' him and taking Jeri's place in his heart when the two of them broke up. A stupid fantasy, as she called it irritably in private, but there remained that tiny bit of relief in her when the pair did actually break up, a relief she hated herself for feeling.

The fantasy never happened however. They grew closer to be sure, a hazard of working together, and the two certainly became a bit more playful, Rika even more so as she found herself loving his flustered reactions to her teasing, but nothing more came about beyond the two of them becoming very good friends. She never spoke openly about her feelings for Takato, though she had the sneaking suspicion that Jeri and Kazu knew something was going on. She wore a mask, pretending there she felt nothing so as to give them nothing to grab hold of.

She emerged from the dressing room and made her way over to the propped-up scenery, hating the fakeness of it all.

It's just like a mask, she thought, coming to a stop in front of the false beach background. Just pretend. That's all I am now. That's all this is. Just a pretense at something. And I'm just pretending too. Going along with it because I get paid…even though I don't like it. Like a doll. Put on clothes. Pretend to feel something I don't. I…hate this.

She remembered what Kazu said last night about having to act around others, wearing masks all the time. With Takato though, at least after a while, she felt that she could drop the mask around him. He saw all her thorny bits and continued to stick by her, and never once tried to discourage her from working at the bakery when she opted to give it a try.

A flash from the camera and Rika squinted, pain throbbing in her head from the light test.

It's only going to get worse. I've got to hang in there.

Why? a part of her asked. Why am I doing this? Why am I putting on a mask when I hate wearing it?

She knew the answer of course. To please her mother. To keep her from pestering her about having a 'good career.' But as the flashes continued to go off, she found all the old loathing she had for it as a child returning in full force, made all the worse by the day's events.

She found herself wondering now… Did Takato wear a mask around her?

A flash from the camera, and in her mind's eye, she found herself back at the bakery, some years younger, before entering university, helping with the holiday rush, griping about school… And him, listening to her, his usual smile on his face, right before the oven behind them caught fire… How they had reacted to it almost instantly and found themselves laughing from the surprise and stress once they had saved the bakery. How it reminded them from their days as Tamers…

Another flash, and this time still younger, listening to her as she spoke about her father, about how his absence didn't matter to her the same way it did with Renamon. He asked if that bothered her…

Another flash, and this time she was with him at Guilmon's old hideout, the two of them older, listening to him talking about Guilmon on one of those days that she found he would get depressed on. Days that occurred more often around the summer than not, when he felt the absence of the digimon born from his heart and soul all the more keenly.

Still another, herself waking up next to Takato, the two of them having fallen asleep on a movie after a long, hard day at the bakery; how she had gazed at his face in thought before, curiously, pinching his cheek, awakening him with a start and accidently smacking their foreheads together. And how he had apologized profusely, much to her irritation…

Flash! Flash! Takato again, this time age twelve, on her birthday, looking positively nervous about something as he spoke, his words a jumbled mess, and getting worse with every second… Her mind paused on that memory in consideration.

I always felt I could read him like a book. It was easy to know when he tried to hide things from me. He could never look me in the eye. That day he asked me out to the non-blooming Cherry Blossoms, he spent most of the time looking everywhere else but me!

A trait, she knew, that didn't diminish as he aged. It was comforting knowing that no matter how badly he screwed up or what he did, when he told her the truth, he would always look her in the eyes. Those eyes that she wanted on her; seeing her. Seeing past her mask and to her real self. Those eyes she wanted always to tell her the truth.

Those eyes that always told the truth on their own because he disliked being dishonest.

When I woke up to find him on top of me… He looked me in the eyes…and looked like he was confused as to how he got there.

Could he have been wearing a mask then…to stay out of trouble? Hoping that it'd just blow over? Be seen as an accident because we both got drunk?

"Rika? Did we…? Are you…?" her memory whispered before being silenced by a skull splitting throb as another flash of light proceeded to aggravate her hangover.

"All right," began the cameraman, leaning forward. "Let's try some poses now. Why don't we begin with…"

"No."

Silence hung in the room as everyone surrounding Rika took a second to digest this.

"Uh… What…?" began the representative as Watanabe approached, looking a bit pensive, but trying to put a positive spin on things.

"I'm sorry. She said that she wasn't feeling very well when she came in. Why don't we take a short break so Ms. Nonaka can find her bearings again?"

"How about not?" Rika asked, stepping away from the false background. "I'm sorry, Watanabe, but…today's just not the day for me. Why don't you try Orimoto or something? She usually does beach scenes."

Watanabe's mouth fell open at that, and she could hardly blame him. Izumi Orimoto was one of her competitors after all, and it was his job to look after her and get her work so she could make a decent living for herself.

The representative of the billboard, frowned, but whatever he had to say, she let Watanabe handle it. More and more, she didn't want to be here. She had too much on her mind and, quite frankly, the job bored her. All she did was stand around and pose in whatever ways she was told to pose. The whole thing was just…annoying, and the lights only hurt her eyes.

Ugh. Why'd I even take this job again? she asked herself in a rhetorical manner as she quickly ducked back into the changing room and switched back to her preferred clothes.

This couldn't go on for much longer. She knew that now. Whether it had to do with her profession or Takato, something had to change. She didn't want to have to keep dwelling on either one. The job was driving her to boredom and Takato…

Her hand tightened on the doorknob as she emerged from the changing room, finding Watanabe and the representative there waiting for her.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Nonaka," Watanabe said, wiping a handkerchief across his brow. "But he insisted on waiting for you."

Ugh. Great.

"I already gave my answer," she said bluntly, planting a hand on her hip defiantly. "I'm not up for it today. If you really want me, talk to Watanabe and reschedule. Because it's not happening today."

The representative adjusted his glasses, his brow a deep furrow as he looked at her in consideration.

"I understand. I would like to reiterate our interest in working with you. From what we've heard and seen about you, you are a bit of a rising star in the business and as such would love to work with you. The successor to your mother, the Makino would be quite beneficial for our business, not to mention yours as well. You would be seen all over Japan, and your profile would most certainly be raised."

Rika frowned. Her profile would be raised? She remembered what that was like for her mother, always being followed around, being asked questions and so on and so forth.

"No thanks," she sighed before Watanabe coughed politely.

"Ah… What she means is…"

"…exactly what I said," she interrupted, giving Watanabe an apologetic look. In spite of everything, he did his job well for her. Tilting her head to one side, she closed her eyes. "Look. I gave you my answer and that's that. I had a really bad night and I just want to get home and finish unpacking."

"I'm sorry to hear about your bad night," the representative replied, giving her what she guessed he thought was a disarming smile as he spread his hands out. "Please. Allow me the opportunity to try and make this one a better one for you. I have a number of connections that can be used to further your career. If you'd like, we can discuss things in a more relaxed atmosphere."

"No," Rika said even more bluntly than earlier, and with that, she moved to push past the representative.

"Please, Ms. Nonaka…"

"I gave my answer. Now we're done. I'm not changing my mind on this one."

"What if I were able to get you into a photo opportunity for the upcoming All Japan Motorcross Championship?"

Rika ground to a halt at that before cautiously turning around to face the representative, her eyes questioning. Motorcross… While it didn't capture her attention the same way taming did as a child, she still developed an interest in it, and watched the championships regularly for the last four years. Usually by herself, but there were not more than a few times when either Takato or Jeri sat with her on it, providing the impetus for her friends to begin their secret plan to get her a motorcycle.

"How do you know that I'm into motorcross?"

The representative smiled. "With your highly public figure, it's hardly a secret, Ms. Nonaka. So, do we have an arrangement?"

"Watanabe? He can do that?"

"Ah…" Watanabe paused before nodding. "It's not…impossible. His company does have a number of contracts advertising for the Motorcycle Federation of Japan."

Seeing that he had her attention, the representative approached Rika.

"You see?" he said, drawing up close. "Please. Why don't we discuss this over dinner or something? Or here, if you would rather prefer, though I know an excellent restaurant that will help make tonight a vast improvement over last. At any rate, I am certain that someone with your beauty and ability can… Aaagh!"

Rika moved with snake-like swiftness as soon as she felt the representative's hand drop down to the edge of her rear in a caress, snatching it up and giving it a sharp twist. The representative cried out as he struggled, Watanabe's mouth falling open at the sight. Anger flared in Rika's heart as the man attempted to break free, only to fail once he realized that doing so risked breaking a bone or two in the process.

"Hands to yourself," Rika growled, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she gave the representative's wrist just enough of a twist to make him cringe. He nodded vigorously, beads of sweat starting to stand out on his forehead. Satisfied with that, she released him and started away, not even looking back as she went.

"Watanabe, I'm out of here. And as for you, Mr. Representative? Count yourself lucky, because if I see you around here again, I'll make you eat that hand."

Drawing near to the elevator, she overheard Watanabe's furious and quite vocal beratement of the representative's treatment of her. She angrily hit the call button, and just like that the door dinged open, as though it were expecting her.

Stepping inside, she hit the button to the lobby, and the doors slid shut on the scene of Watanabe as he now bellowed at the representative. With that, the elevator sank, and she felt her stomach loosen slightly as she briefly felt weightless. Taking a shaky breath, she spun and struck the wall of the elevator, leaving a good-sized dent in its metal surface. Her fist exploded in pain, but it felt meaningless, her anger swallowing it and sending it pulsing along the length of her body, becoming fuel for her anger, making her almost eager for a target that would react to being struck. She was half-tempted to go back upstairs and give the representative a piece of her pain, but she instead waited for the elevator to reach its destination, not wanting to drag this out any longer than she already had. She didn't have to wait long before she arrived at her destination and stepped out onto the streets. Turning, she aimed for the parking lot where she stored her bike.

Takato never treated me like that, she thought. Even when my tops started to get a little showier, he never treated me like that. He never touched me unless he was sure I was okay with it.

Of course, he wasn't the only one who had respected her boundaries. Henry and Kenta did so as well, and even Kazu, whenever he remembered that her cleavage wasn't meant for him to stare at and indulge his personal fantasies in.

But with Takato, his respect toward her always had a specialness to it. An honesty that she had liked. He never once denied nor lied that he found her attractive, though she had to corner him on it quite a few times before he got the hint that she was fine with that. As a teenager, and even before then, he would blush and stammer, try to avoid doing anything or saying anything that he felt would make her feel uncomfortable, even on the rare occasions she dressed in such a manner to provoke such a reaction from him. But as always, when she called him out on it, the admission would come, if haphazardly. And he always respected her personal space, going no further than she allowed.

Approaching her bike, she sat herself down on it thoughtfully.

What…did I allow with him?

The question echoed inside her as she took her helmet and slid it on.

Too bad neither of us remember, she thought, starting the engine. As she did so, her mind drifted back to the bathroom, where her shirt and bra still lay, clean and without a stain to mar them.

She frowned, focusing on the memory for a moment, contemplating it before peeling out of her parking spot and blazing a trail in the direction of the road, more than eager to forget the photoshoot.

###

After parking her bike, Rika made her way down the tiny street that led to Takato's home and family business. She felt a cold sick weight in the pit of her stomach at the thought of going there to see him. A part of her, in spite of everything she felt she needed to do, wanted to turnback and never allow a sight of him to intrude her life again. It would be so much easier in light of today, to believe he had used her as she feared he had; as she once feared Renamon had. Like IceDevimon had wanted to.

She knew, however, that would be running away. There were a lot of things that she could say that she didn't like about herself right now, but she'd be damned if she allowed herself to back out, especially after coming this far.

A Tamer never walks away from danger, as she told Takato years ago, before they even became friends. She intended to stand by that philosophy, even if she had to use a wheelchair to get around.

The familiar sight of the bakery came into view and she felt her chest tighten as she picked up the pace. She wondered how Takato was doing. What he told his parents, or anyone else for that matter. How would they react now once they saw her?

Only one way to find out, she thought, the automatic doors parting for her, allowing her entry. Here goes…

"Hello," came Takehiro's voice as he looked up from the cash register. "Can I help you with… Rika!"

Rika felt the tension in his body build as she saw his eyes widen in shock upon seeing her, but much to her surprise, she sensed no hostility from Takato's father. Only concern and worry.

"Hey, Mr. Matsuki," she greeted, feeling a touch uncertain as she drew nearer to the counter. So far, this was not what she expected. "I'm…looking for Takato. Is he here?"

Quickly glancing around to see if there were any customers about, Takehiro leaned forward, his voice lowering, becoming filled with urgency.

"That's… Yeah, he's here. He's in a bit of a bad way though."

"Bad way, huh?" Rika asked, feeling her heart banging away in her chest. She could hear the drumbeat in her ears, distracting her thoughts. She flexed her hand to refocus herself, feeling its stiffness from when she punched the elevator wall.

Takehiro nodded before leaning away, running a hand through his thinning hair, sighing heavily. "I don't know how to explain it. He was very upset, I can say that much, not to mention sporting a rather nasty bruise on his face like someone clocked him a good one." He pointed to his cheek for emphasis. "Nothing he said was making any sense and he was acting like he lost Guilmon all over again. When I pressed him on it all he could do was apologize over and over before he just…collapsed. Just shut down completely and went to sleep in my arms."

Rika stiffened at that. Collapsed? Takato collapsed?

"Fortunately, one of our regulars is a nurse and she was there at the time. She says that he'll be fine with some rest, but…" He paused and looked at Rika meaningfully. "Rika, I don't mean to pry, but…what happened last night? When you called, you said he was a bit drunk. Could you tell us what you know?"

Rika's drew her hands into tight, shaky fists, barely hearing him or even taking notice of the stiffness in her knuckles.

Takato collapsed… Takato…collapsed. The thought hammered itself home and for a moment, it felt as though the world had stopped around her. Shaking herself, she looked back at Takehiro, who was watching her with an expectant gaze, hoping that she would shed light on whatever was wrong. She saw in his eyes a fear as to what might have happened, guessing perhaps that his son, in his drunken stupor, committed a wrong with her, someone he reportedly cared deeply about.

Taking a shaky breath, Rika relaxed her hands.

"Is he…? You said he's upstairs?"

"Sleeping," Takehiro nodded. "Rika, please. Did something…?"

"Takehiro," came the voice of Mie, emerging from the back. "I think one of us is going to need to go down to the store and pick up a new batch of flower. That last bag is… Oh! Rika!"

Now it was Mie's turn to be surprised upon spying Rika's presence. All her earlier worries came to the forefront as she hurried over to the younger woman.

"Did something happen between you two?" she asked in a hushed voice, though it bled raw with emotion. "Did my son do something to you? Oh Kami…"

"Mie…" began Takehiro in a warning tone as Rika blinked, taken aback by the older woman's words.

"Takehiro, he came home looking like someone punched him and he was drunk last night! I just knew something was going to happen, but no, you said… Ohhh…"

Tearing off her bandana, Mie covered one eye with her hand, trying to hold back her tears.

"I thought we raised him better than that."

Takehiro made his way over to his wife as she burst out sobbing and wrapped his arms around her, massaging her back in an attempt to comfort her.

"Mie… Let's just hear her out. We don't know anything just yet."

Turning his eyes back at the fire-haired woman, his eyes became serious.

"Rika?" he prompted. Rika winced. Mie always liked her, and in recent years came to see her as something of a daughter she never had. Without question, Takato staggering home looking beat up after being drunk and alone with her in her apartment must have been very distressing to her.

She took another breath, calming herself.

"I need to see him," she said simply, causing both his parents to look at him in surprise and Mie to blink back her tears. Feeling a little self-conscious, Rika forged ahead, ignoring her discomfort under their scrutinizing gaze.

"Look, I don't know if either of us can explain anything right now, but…please." Her eyes softened. "Please let me see him. I need to talk to him about what happened. I think we both need to talk to each other."

Mie and Takehiro both exchanged looks before Takehiro nodded.

"We'd still like to hear what happened," he said simply, his tone implying there would be a time for hearing the story. Rika nodded, moving around the counter and towards the back.

"Thank you," she said, heading to the stairs that led to the bakery's living section and taking them at a rapid pace. All the old smells and looks of the upstairs filled her with sudden nostalgia, but at the same time she couldn't help but wonder…were they different? There was something in them that left her feeling as though she were looking at them in a new light.

Or maybe that's just me because of what happened between me and Takato, she thought, arriving at the top. She didn't have long to contemplate as she approached his room. She could hear his voice behind the door, indicating he was awake now. A relief for sure, as it simplified things, but it sounded as though he were talking to someone. Coming to a halt, she listened briefly before sliding the door open and stepping inside.

###

Darkness surrounded him, broken only by a faint flickering of red light. He was in a room, that much he could see from what rough details he could make out. He made his way through the room cautiously, his breathing, heavy, seeming to test the air with his nostrils, as if hunting for prey.

In the flickering light, he spied, there, huddled in a corner, a familiar young woman, eyes full of fear as she shook.

"Please…" he heard her whisper as darkness drowned her. He felt himself move rapidly, and when the red light revealed her once more, she was struggling, his hand wrapped tightly around her neck, squeezing… Squeezing! Then…nothing but darkness once more for a moment, and when the next flicker of red light, he found her hanging limply in his arms bridal style, eyes empty of all life as her head rolled toward him, gazing up at him in mute accusation.

NO! RIKA!

Takato shot up from the futon, his cry dying in his throat as the light of day flooded his vision. He sat there for a moment in confusion, his shoulders heaving as he panted, reality washing the nightmare away, leaving only faint threads of spiderwebs that clung to him. Recollection however, the spinner of those dark threads, crawled about his mind, casting new webs with which to ensnare him with, and as he brushed his hand against a bandage taped over his bruise, Rika's angry eyes flashed across his vision.

Rika… he shuddered.

He took stock of his situation. He was on the floor of his room, laying in a futon that had been laid out for him. How he got there, he couldn't remember, though this didn't surprise him. Faulty memories seemed to be par the course for him today. Not that it mattered at the moment. The only memory that meant anything right now was Rika's furious, betrayed eyes as she glared at him, the person she had called friend. Someone she had trusted.

And now…never again.

Clenching his eyes shut, he shivered again. It's…all my fault.

The thought echoed inside him. He wanted so badly to call her; to try and make things better. Set things right! He knew however, in the bottom of his heart, he would only make things worse. Things between them would never be fine again.

But…what can I do? he asked himself. I've got to do something! I…I hurt her. I need to pay. I need to pay for what I did.

The thought crystalized within him as, downstairs, he heard his parents moving about, talking to one another as they ran their business. He no longer really belonged here anymore.

I've failed them. I've failed everyone. The least I can do is go away. Go to prison.

That made him blink, a light bulb clicking on his mind, and the idea clung to him immediately. Yes, why not? That's what people like him deserved, right? Be removed from society? Removed from everyone he might be a danger to? And he was dangerous. With his imagination, he created Guilmon. With a wish, he could turn his partner into a monster so powerful he could destroy an entire plain of existence!

My digivice… I should probably send that to Yamaki for safekeeping. Uh… If I can find him that is. Maybe I should send it to Henry instead? Yeah. He'd know what to do.

This idea was sounding better all the time. He should have been locked up ages ago as a child, back when he shattered the firewall dividing the worlds and keeping him from his partner. He had been so willing to risk endangering the safety of the world all over again just to be with his friend. He should have been locked up and the key thrown away!

At least then, none of this would have happened. Rika. She would have been safe from me…

He was shaking again, but he bore it. Climbing to his feet, he went over to it and began hunting through the piles of paper, searching for his digivice. He quickly found it, its golden ring enshrined in digi-code. A golden ring. What a laugh! What had he done to deserve a second chance after his original, red-ringed one was destroyed? Destroyed because he turned his best friend into a monst…!

The sound of his cellphone ringing broke him out of his thoughts. Taking it out, he flipped it open.

"Uh… Jeri?" he greeted, a bit confused at first as to why she was calling him. Wouldn't Rika have told her…? No. She's probably calling to ask how I could do such a thing.

"Hey, Takato. How are you doing?"

"Ah… Is…this a trick question?" he asked, scratching the back of his head, baffled not only by Jeri's question, but also her cheerful, if worried-sounding mood.

"What do you mean? You drank a lot last night, so I was worried about you. I mean, Rika didn't call, so I guessed you were doing okay, but… Well… You know how I am. I…I never stopped caring about you after all."

Takato closed his eyes and took a shaky breath.

"She…didn't tell you…" he said softly. "Why didn't she tell you?"

"Huh? She didn't tell me what? Rika? Did something happen last night?"

Takato leaned on his desk, feeling a bit dizzy again. He was going to have to fill her in on what he did. How he hurt Rika.

"Y-Yeah…" he nodded. "Something… Something did happen. I'm…I'm sorry, Jeri." He threaded a hand through his hair, casting his eyes up toward the ceiling before sitting himself down in his chair. Kami, he felt so dizzy. The raw, hurt emotion was threatening to overwhelm him again. "I'm…I'm going to have to be going away for a while."

"Going away?" Jeri asked, confused. "You mean like what you were telling me about? Traveling the world so you can find a portal to the digital world?"

"I'm…I'm not going on my trip," he replied. Placing his head in his free hand, he closed his eyes. So deep was he in the whirlwind of his thoughts that he didn't notice his door sliding quietly open. "I…I don't think I'll be doing anything like that. Jeri… I'm turning myself in to the police."

There was a deathly silence both in the room and on the phone for one long moment before Jeri spoke up again.

"The…The police?" she asked, her voice just barely above a whisper, and he envisioned her cradling her cellphone, eyes wide with growing panic. "Takato… I don't understand. What happened? Tell me so I…"

Takato was abruptly cut off from answering Jeri's quavering voice as an elegant, pale hand plucked his cellphone out of his grasp. Whipping about, his eyes widened with stunned surprise upon finding one Rika Nonaka standing before him, holding his phone to her ear as she cleared her throat.

"Jeri? It's Rika. I'm going to have to call you back and fill you in on some…details later." Her violet eyes looked down at Takato. He read nothing in them, save for a cool, reserved air. "But for now, ignore what he just told you."

What?! his mind exclaimed.

"Rika?!" Jeri exploded on the phone, completely and utterly confused as to what was going on and not liking it at all. "What's going on?! You promised you would call if something happened and it sounds like something happened!"

Rika's expression softened a little as she continued to gaze at Takato.

"I know," she said. "It's…been a crazy day. Look, I'll explain everything to you later. Takato and I… We need to sort some things out first."

"O-Okay…" Jeri said, her voice shaking a little. "Promise for sure this time?"

"Yeah. I promise."

With nothing more to be said, Rika hung up. Setting Takato's cellphone on his desk, she fixed him with a contemplative gaze.

"Rika…" he began, starting to rise to his feet, only to pause as she stiffened in response. Wincing, he sat back down. "W-What are you…doing here?"

"I'm…" Her eyes drifted to his bruised face, grimacing at it before dropping down to his neck, where a smaller, considerably lighter bruise lay, much lighter than she remembered it being that morning. "…here to see you. I…"

Silence fell from her lips for a moment before she sighed. Takato looked, well, horrible to tell the truth. Unkempt and he had the faint beginnings of his mustache growing back. It was clear to her that he hadn't showered or shaved since yesterday, and his eyes looked hollow and haggard, making him look sickly.

I guess he would be…knowing him, she thought, remembering what his parents told her downstairs about his passing out.

"Why don't you get cleaned up and meet me downstairs?" she asked finally. "We're going for a ride."

"Uh…huh?" Takato blinked, wondering what was going on. "A ride?"

"I'm not repeating myself, Takato," she said, turning around and heading for the door. "I've got you a helmet and some goggles. All you need to do is bring yourself, and I'd rather you look a bit more presentable."

She paused at the door and looked over her shoulder at him. Takato saw emotion behind her eyes, but before he could say anything, she turned away again.

"Don't keep me waiting too long," she said before stepping outside.

###

Takato cleaned himself up as best he could while keeping things as short as possible. Standing in front of the mirror of his bathroom, he wiped down the condensation from the shower steam, gazing at his bare self. No nicks or scratches marred his face, a good thing since he had done a quick shave without a mirror to save time, and he got all the relevant bristles. Not a speck of dirt stood out either, and the heat from the steam revived him a little, restoring some of his color.

Now if only my conscience was as clean as the rest of me, then I could stand looking at myself, he thought, taking up his mother's hairdryer and turning it on. His brown hair shot to the side, becoming awash in heat. His skin prickled in delight, causing his nipples to rise ever so slightly in response. His thoughts continued to feel jagged and uneven however, unable to respond to the pleasant warmth that soothed his body.

Rika… Why does she want to take me for a ride? Why did she stop me from telling Jeri what I did? Is she afraid I'll lie about what happened?

It made sense. If he were her, he supposed his lying would be the most likely thing to do in order to avoid getting into trouble.

Still… Why didn't she tell her first? Why does she want anything to do with me? Why did she come all the way down here?

No answer came to him of course, and rather than dwell on it, he finished drying his hair and snatched up a towel. His skin bemoaned the loss of the heat as he traced the cloth up his legs, working his way steadily northward until he finally finished with his arms and chest.

He looked at himself in the mirror again. He didn't look all that different from yesterday, but he felt as though something inside him were altered in some way.

Or maybe I'm just aware of it now?

Not waiting for an answer – Rika waited for him after all – he took up his clean shirt and tugged it on before following with the rest of his clothes. He found Rika downstairs shortly afterward, waiting for him, having explained to his parents they were heading out. With nothing more needing to be said, they headed out together and wordlessly made their way over to her parking spot. Taking up the helmet and goggles she got for him, she passed them into his hands.

"Hang on to me," she said simply, drawing on her own helmet and starting the engine. Takato frowned at her, and when she saw his lack of action, she turned toward him and flipped her visor up.

"Something the matter?"

Yeah. Everything, he thought, but wordlessly he placed the helmet on his head and after making sure it was secure, he climbed aboard The Kyubi. After situating himself, he tripped the back end of the tank, ensuring that he kept his hands as far away from Rika's abdomen as possible.

She waited for a moment before turning toward him once more, her violet eyes questioning. Takato lifted an eyebrow in response.

"Uh… Am I doing something wrong? Didn't you tell me once that I'm supposed to sit like this? Balance and everything?"

"Yeah," Rika admitted with a nod. "But…" She paused before looking away. "…I…want to know you're there with me."

Takato felt his heart pause in its beat, it too sharing its confusion toward her words. Why? Why did Rika want that?

He didn't dwell on it long. It was clear that she was waiting for him to change position before they left. Releasing his grip on the back, he leaned forward, wrapping his arms about her waist. She felt so warm, and he could feel a nervous tremor in her back. That made his heart crack again. The idea that she was afraid of him hurt worse than anything the D-Reaper ever did to him.

"Hang on," she said, revving the engine, "and don't let go."

With that, she pulled out and they joined the road.

###

They drove for quite a while, taking the twists and turns until they eventually left the limits of the city and entered out into the countryside. And still they kept going, Rika driving with utter confidence. She appeared to be in no hurry, allowing Takato time to take in the sights around them and breathe the cool, fresh country air, clearing his mind a little and, briefly, losing himself in the ride.

No wonder Rika enjoys driving Kyubi so much, he thought.

Eventually, Rika took a turn down a side road. It was a bit rougher compared to what they were on before, but it remained plenty serviceable. Passing houses and shrines, she came upon a small nook in the path and turned down into it. There, they continued on a little bit more slowly before eventually coming to a stop. Turning off the engine, Rika glanced over her shoulder, taking off her helmet.

"Here we are," she said as Takato retracted his arms from around her.

"Where are we?" he asked, taking off his own helmet and giving the place a once over, being faintly reminded of Shinjuku Park, where they had spent much of their childhood playing in before their path to adulthood began to conspire to keep them away from that place.

"Just a little spot I found while traveling. I come out here every once in a while for the view."

Tilting her head to the side as she swung off the bike, she indicated that he was to follow her. They didn't have to travel far, and they soon arrived at a spot that ended on a drop with the half-hidden remains of a shrine buried behind some brush. Takato felt his lips part as a small breath escaped his mouth. There, just beyond the cliff, was the city of Shinjuku, clear as day, and yet so small and distant.

"Wow…" he breathed in awe. Rika smiled softly.

"Nice, huh? I keep it as my phone's wallpaper. The first time I saw it like this, I got to remembering Renamon and everything we did together as Tamers. How we saved the world and our homes. Sometimes, it helps me get through some pretty hard times."

A gust of wind blew across the pair, and Takato fancied that he heard the words left unsaid.

Like today.

Takato pressed his lips together, feeling the knot in his stomach returning as all of the day's events came back, filling in all the nooks and crannies emptied by the bike ride, spinning new threads to connect them all together. It took him a moment to realize that his hands were shaking, and he drew them up, linking them together and squeezing them in an attempt to distract himself and silence their tremors.

They stood like that for a moment longer before Rika spoke again, cutting to the chase.

"How much do you like me?"

The question hung there as they gazed out over the city. A bit of a surprising question, and not one Takato would have expected.

"A…A lot," he replied, turning toward her just as she turned toward him, their eyes meeting. Her expression remained impassive as she continued.

"How much is a lot?" she asked. "Enough that you want to have sex with me?"

Rika saw the bright, ashamed blush bloom to life on Takato's features, but to his credit, he kept his eyes focused on her.

"I…" he began before trailing off, looking obviously uncomfortable.

"Forget about the mushy stuff for right now," Rika added at his hesitation, before he could pick up the threads of conversation again. "I'm not interested in hearing what you have to say about romance. Just answer the question."

Takato's face contorted, as though the very act of answering such a question pained him, but in the end, he nodded.

"Y-Yeah," he said simply, his voice hoarse. Rika watched him carefully, taking note of every reaction she could read. As ever, he was an open book to her.

He's not trying to paint himself in a good light, she thought quietly. She supposed he felt there was no point to it, given everything that happened between them, and no doubt he sensed her desire to not dance around issues that were important.

"And you don't remember anything from last night."

"No." Takato shook his head, continuing to maintain eye contact all the while in spite of his obvious discomfort. She saw nothing more in them except what Takato believed to be true in his mind. Her eyes dropped down to the bruise on his neck, lingering on it briefly before she turned away.

"I see."

Time passed as they stood there, his eyes on her as she gazed out over Shinjuku thoughtfully, a light gust of wind playing along her hair. They stood there for a few minutes, letting the silence reign before Takato spoke up.

"I'm sorry, Rika."

The fire-haired woman narrowed her eyes as she glanced at him. "I think you've apologized enough."

Takato winced, hearing her angry tone.

"I know. It doesn't mean much, and there's nothing I can do to change what happened or fix things, but…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

He felt his heart cracking at seeing her eyes glistening in the sunlight. Blinking back tears forming in his own eyes, he wiped them with his sleeve and continued.

"Rika?" Takato began softly. "Why did you stop me from telling Jeri what I did to you?"

Rika tilted her head to one side, still watching him from out of the corner of her eye.

"I don't know. What did you do to me?"

Takato drew his hands together into tight fists, his body shaking. Yet he turned and met her eyes levelly, knowing how much she preferred, even desired, eye contact when discussing things, however uncomfortable they were.

"I…I raped you."

He winced as the words left his lips, but he continued to hold Rika's eyes as she turned to face him more fully, one hand on her hip.

"Is that what happened?" she asked.

Takato blinked, baffled by this response. It…wasn't one he expected.

"What…What else could it be?" Now Takato broke her gaze, briefly, fumbling for words before meeting them again. "I was drunk. I couldn't control myself, and…and you know how I get when I'm…like that."

Rika frowned in thought, trying to piece together his own thought process. Of all the things Takato was, a lack of control of himself seemed rather…preposterous. She and Henry lost their temper far more than he ever did, and Henry practiced self-control far, far more out of all of them.

Now why would he think that? she wondered, until realization dawned on her in the memory of a massive, blood-red dragon with glowing, crimson eyes; a beast born from an absolute, all-consuming, murderous rage.

Megidramon…

She remembered that day well. How could she forget? Beelzemon beating them all down into the dirt, focusing especially on Renamon; the bullets that tore through the air, aimed directly at Takato and Guilmon in their own battered helplessness; Leomon's pain-filled howl, impaled on Beelzemon's claws, and Jeri's horrified screams as her partner died…

If there was one thing she could say for certain about Takato, it was that he never did anything small.

Her expression softened, remembering that she had thought much the same thing as he just that morning.

"Takato…" she began softly, her eyes shining before she hardened them. "Takato," she continued, her voice picking up a firm tone. "What happened in the digital world… That's completely different from what happened last night!"

"No, it's not!" Takato protested heatedly, earning him a surprised eyebrow lift from Rika at this. "That monster is me! It's always been inside me, and when I'm in the wrong mood…"

"Do you really think Jeri and I would have let you have anything Kazu bought or even get anywhere near us if we thought you were dangerous?" Rika interrupted, jabbing her finger into his chest as her temper flaring suddenly. Takato's mouth fell open at that, completely taken aback by her response. Rika continued to press her attack, not wanting to give him a chance to come up with a counterargument.

"What happened in the digital world could have happened to anyone. Beelzemon was going to kill us. He killed Leomon right in front of Jeri and loaded his data. And I know for a fact how you always feel responsible for his death because you feel responsible for everything!"

She looked down at her finger jabbing against his chest and the image from last night, of her pressing her hand against him as he pushed into her, came to mind once more. Her eyes drifted to the bruise on his neck, her mark,before rising to where she struck him that morning before finally settling on his warm, crimson gaze, wherein all his fears and self-loathing sat.

"Takato… I was there. You can say how much of a monster you are all you want, but I remember what happened. How you pulled back when you saw how your anger affected Guilmon by digivolving him to Megidramon. How you fixed things by biomerging with him and becoming Gallantmon. And you want to know what's more?"

She met his eyes levelly, her violet gaze daring him to challenge her.

"When you were going to kill Beelzemon for everything that he did, you stopped because Jeri told you to. You could have ignored her, but you didn't."

Her free hand rising to his bruised face, she brushed her fingers against the bandage, caressing him gently.

"I don't think you would have done anything to me that I didn't want you to, Takato. Drunk or not."

"Rika…" His eyes searched hers as a tear managed to slip free and trail a path down his face. He didn't break down, nor did he try to stop its path. His arms trembled, as if aching to hold her, but at the same time hesitant to do so. Damage had been done, and now it seemed that he no longer trusted himself to embrace her. She couldn't blame him. She could feel her own hesitation as well. Something passed between them last night, though they no longer knew with any certainty what that was, and as a result fears lay within her heart as much as it did his.

She hated her fears.

I promised Renamon that I'd be the best version of me, she thought, remembering the message Henry helped her send into the digital world. She didn't know if Renamon ever received it, but her promise remained. She wouldn't think hesitantly anymore.

Tracing her hands around toward his back, she pulled Takato towards her into a powerful hug, catching him by surprise with an audible gasp. His arms rose slowly in response, as if afraid he would hurt her again, but upon feeling her trembling as she quietly wept against his cheek, his heart, already cracked, broke and his arms quickly closed around her protectively.

"Rika… Don't… It's…It's not your… It's all my fault! Please… Don't…" he stammered out, trying to find the words that would help her, but not knowing if they could be any good after what he had done. In response, Rika tightened her grip around him.

"Shut up," she replied in a hushed voice. Oh, how she missed him hugging her. "Just…shut up, okay?"

Takato did just that, and they continued holding one another, their bodies both shuddering in time with one another's pain. Yes, Rika felt certain now that whatever happened last night, Takato hadn't been thinking of himself and what he wanted. His 'stupid heart' – as she sometimes referred to it – wouldn't permit him to put his desires over her, and this…confirmed it.

"Takato?" she began quietly as he rocked her gently in his arms, massaging her back in an attempt to comfort her.

"Yeah?"

"I'm starting to think I'm digivolving into a model. I haven't eaten anything at all today."

As if to add credence to her words, Rika's stomach growled noisily, causing Takato to pause in his ministrations for a moment before resuming cautiously.

"Sorry about that," he said softly, knowing he shared considerable responsibility in her skipping of meals. "You want to get something to eat then?"

"That's a dumb question," she harrumphed before tightening her grip around him. "My place. I don't want to go out for food made by a complete stranger. Could you cook something for just the two of us? I've still got a lot of unpacking to take care of and…you left something important behind."

"Left behi…Oh." The key she gave me.

Takato paused on that, uncertain as to why she would want him to have it again. In spite of everything she said to him, his doubts still reigned. She was willing to allow him access to her home again? Why?

"Are you sure?"

Rika closed her eyes, her tears falling onto his shoulder, and once more she squeezed him tightly to her.

"Also a dumb question," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Come on. Let's go home."

Breaking apart, the pair gazed at one another for a moment, their hands taking the time to find one another before intertwining. They were both emotionally drained, but at the same time…cleansed. At least a little bit. Either way, they could begin the work of repairing the rift between them.

Hand in hand, they returned to her motorcycle before having to break their touch apart. Handing him his helmet, Rika took up her own and sat herself down. Upon noticing that he hadn't yet joined her or put his helmet on, she eyed him quizzically.

"What's up? You're not planning on walking home, are you?"

"No, I was just…thinking," he said, turning the helmet over in his hands.

Rika lifted an eyebrow. "And?"

"Just… This morning and…" He paused, looking down at the helmet for a moment before he turned his eyes back up at her, his expression serious. Rika's other eyebrow joined its twin, seeing a glow of maturity in those red irises of his.

"Rika," he began, his tone surprisingly firm and lacking in any of his jagged nerves. "No matter what happens, I promise not to let you down anymore."

A small smile drew across Rika's lips at that. She remembered seeing him like this before, whenever he declared they were going to do something to save the world, and even later, when saving the world meant the bakery or a project of some kind.

"I know you won't because you can't," she replied, lifting her helmet up and onto her head and sliding it down. Starting her motorcycle, she waited for him to finish strapping on his helmet and settling in behind her, his arms wrapping themselves around her waist. Her heart skipped a beat, becoming overcome with a strange sense of familiarity, as though they had done something similar, and not just on their way up here.

"Hang on to me," she urged before, together, they rejoined the road and sped off back to Shinjuku's heart.
###

"No more sake like what Kazu got us," Rika said to Jeri over the phone as she tore into another box, this one containing a number of books she read as a teenager. In the background, she heard Takato moving about, humming the theme song to the first Digimon season to himself as he busily cooked. A part of her wondered if he was doing that so she could keep track of where he was in her apartment, but she quickly shrugged it off. "I mean it Jeri. It caused us a lot of problems that we didn't need. If I see him bringing that stuff into my home again, he's getting a black eye!"

"I understand," Jeri replied on the other end, having patiently listened to Rika explaining a long, but fairly summarized version of the day's events. "Are…Are you sure the two of you are all right though?"

Rika glanced up at Takato's back as he stood over the stove, stirring the pot's contents. He was presently humming a different song now. Something called Brave Heart, if she remembered correctly, and also related to the first Digimon season. Her eyes softened before she returned to her work.

"We'll get there," she said finally. "For now, it's one day at a time."

"Okay." Jeri paused for a moment. "You know you can talk to me. If you have anything on your mind…"

"I think we'll be okay. But I'll be sure to keep you in mind. Thanks."

"No problem." Jeri sniffed before huffing in irritation. "Kami! You two better take better care of each other! Don't make me worry like that again, do you hear me?"

Rika chuckled, picking up the first batch of books and making her way over to the wall where her bookshelf sat.

"We'll do our best," she promised, starting to set her collection in its new home. "I can't guarantee we won't make you worry though."

Movement from out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she turned to see Takato miming washing hands as he headed towards the bathroom. Their meal, she gathered, was ready. She nodded to him and began a countdown in her head.

"I guess I'll have to live with that," Jeri sighed. "Anyway, I'll be sure to pass your warning on to Kazu."

"Thanks," Rika grinned as her countdown drew closer to zero. "I'll talk to you later."

With that, the two bid each other a final farewell and Rika hung up. Smiling, she turned around, just in time to find a blushing Takato approaching her, an all too familiar shirt and bra folded neatly in his hands.

"Um… I…ah…found these just lying on the bathroom floor."

Unable to help herself, her smile grew ever so slightly at the sight of his beat-red cheeks and she took her clothes from him.

"Thanks," she said as he shifted uncomfortably, scratching the back of his head and looking evasive.

"What's the matter? Did you get turned on or something?"

"Er…" The crimson blush positively flooded Takato's face at that. "Do I really have to answer that? Kami… Why'd you leave it there? You've always been so neat about everything you even put Henry to shame!"

He really doesn't remember, she thought, eyeing her clothes thoughtfully before looking back at him.

"My apartment, my rules," she replied with a playful grin as she headed off in the direction of her bedroom. "And you didn't answer my question."

She paused at the entry, looking at him over her shoulder. Takato shifted again before looking her in the eye.

"Yeah, okay. A little bit."

Her smile drew up a little bit further.

"Thanks," she said simply before stepping into her room. Making her way over to her dresser, she opened it and set her things within their respective drawers.

"Say wha…? Thanks?" she heard Takato's intelligent response from outside. Giving a light laugh, she exited her room, finding him fixing her with a confused look and a tilted head.

"Don't burn your brain out thinking too hard about it," she teased. "Anyway, everything's ready?"

Takato frowned for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. I mean, besides needing plates and everything, but…"

"We're covered on that," Rika grinned, passing him by. "Come on. I've got the TV all hooked up. Motorcross should be on now."

Scratching the back of his head, Takato followed her back into the kitchen, completely and utterly confused by his friend's words.

Well… As long as she's happy I guess… he thought, dishes clinking as Rika spooned their food into them.

###

The day wore down for the two of them and the darkness of night slowly encapsulated the sky. Drawing off the blanket from her bed, Rika folded it in her arms and paused for a moment, gazing at its now bare surface. Memories from last night trickled into her mind but remained vague and scattered. She supposed they always would be, and in spite of everything, she wasn't sure how she felt about that. Something happened between them last night that led to the two of them making love to one another. Did she confess and he accept? Or had it been in the reverse? Or had it just been mutual lust on their part being released from their constraints?

I don't think we can deny that we both want to be with each other now, she thought, smoothing out her blanket before turning around and heading for the door. I just wish we remembered it better.

She sighed, pausing at the door, her hand brushing against the light before flicking it off, dousing her bedroom in darkness.

Well…next time we'll make a memory neither of us will forget.

She smiled at that, making her way over to the couch where Takato lay, completely conked out. The two of them had fallen asleep together at some point after they ate, their emotional exhaustion having finally overtaken them, and so far, she had been the only one to awaken, and had found herself on his shoulder, snoozing comfortably. It reminded her of that time she fell asleep at his place after a particularly hard day at the bakery. Pulling open the blanket, she sat down and draped it over the two of them. She felt Takato stir next to her, and sure enough, he woke.

"Rika…?" he began drowsily before noticing how dark it was outside through her window. "Oh man, what time is it?"

"Late," she replied, her attention turning to the television as it now played some program she didn't recognize, not used as she was to watching something so late at night. Takato shifted next to her, shaking his head.

"I should probably get going…" he began, only to be stopped as Rika laid her head against his shoulder once more.

"You could," she said softly, feeling his surprised gaze as her hand drifted to his leg, massaging it beneath the blanket. "Or you could stick it out here. I took the liberty of texting your folks to let them know not to worry since you were still asleep and that we'll explain everything tomorrow if you didn't wake up."

She paused, biting her lip, waiting for his answer. She hated feeling this way, feeling like she needed his presence, but the day had been something of an emotional rollercoaster for her – for both of them – and her ability to pretend feeling any other way had become a bit frayed as a result.

She felt Takato shift against her again, and his arm drew around her, falling on her shoulder and pulling her close. She smiled, her head sliding down to the corner of his chest, where she heard the slow, steady drumbeat of Takato's heart. She loved that sound. No nervousness lay within it, leaving her feeling that the warmth of their shared blanket was soothing out their tension and the troubles of their hearts.

"Rika?" Takato began after a while.

"Yeah?"

"Have I ever told you how amazing you are?"

Rika giggled. "Quite a lot, but not enough," she replied. She felt Takato laugh lightly against her, massaging her shoulder.

"Well, you are. I don't know where I'd be without you."

"Probably squashed under a digimon's foot," she smirked. "Speaking of which, I remember how you were talking about traveling the world. Looking for a way to get to the digital world so we can find our partners again."

"Ah… Yeah," Takato nodded. Rika shifted against him, draping her arm across his waistline. Kami, he was so warm. And his heart…

"Whenever you're ready to go, do you mind if I come with?" she murmured. "Two can search better than one after all, and it can get a little lonely, doing it by yourself."

Takato squeezed her shoulder before smoothing it out.

"I can't think of anyone better," he replied softly. At that, they both smiled, and Rika gave his waist a tight squeeze.

The night wore on, and as the program on the television advanced, so did the weight on their eyes, their hearts lulling each other to a sound sleep within which no nightmares disturbed. And that was how they found each other the next morning, where they greeted each other with warm smiles and trust.

The end.

###

A/N: It's been a long while since I last wrote a story where its start to finish was known in my head, and in spite of the subject matter, something about it just felt like…I'm not sure. Like a dam had burst or something. I was writing everyday on this piece, even at work whenever I was able to steal a chance, and quite often on whatever I had handy, and when I wasn't writing, I was editing and making notes. My (current) notebook for fanfiction now has scarcely a dozen or so pages left in it as a result. XD

My thanks go out to those who have read and reviewed so far, as without your support, this work would not have continued. cesar k-non, callofcamo, P.G, pittbuck, X.O, Naito Writer, KylarPierce, Grets, RightsofWrongs, Traveler, and Cubegame.

Thanks for everything. :)

Sincerely,

-Crazyeight

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