Chapter Three: A Soft Hour
The thump of the carcass near his foot made Kei sigh. "Plotmon let it go."
"But I want lunch!" whined the dog, holding the squirrel in her teeth. It squeaked and screamed and was already bleeding and Kei sighed again. He couldn't just leave it to limp off and die, but…
"All right, make it fast."
Plotmon cheered, the sound muffled then by the squirming fluffball. Kei turned away, ignoring the shaking and snapping and throwing behind him. Did his partner really have to be that violent for lunch? It was his fault for not helping her become a vegetarian. Oh wait, dogs weren't supposed to be vegetarians, never mind.
He tapped his foot. "Plotmon." No answer other than those noises, with a little extra chomping and cracking sounds. Kei sighed and turned away. He began to type a quick apology to his uncle. Iori-san would probably understand. Digimon were notorious for their love of food. Of course, at first people had underestimated the curiosity Digimon would have towards it and the hunting in the process. They had learned.
His terminal beeped a few minutes after he sent the message. He sighed in relief. "Hurry up Plotmon!"
Plotmon swallowed. "Why? It's not like being any earlier will make this any easier."
Kei sighed and mussed his messy hair. He knew that, but… "He still needs to hear about this."
If it had been Mio he had seen in the Dark Ocean, Iori-san deserved to know before anyone else. After all, she had simply not been found. He didn't know the circumstances behind her disappearance; none of the children felt like they had the right to. But he would know, and he would have information. Which they desperately needed.
There was a loud chomp and a squish, which pulled him from his thoughts. Kei pinched his nose. Reasons why to become a vegetarian: Plotmon. Not that it would save him any.
"Fal-" Kei began and Plotmon quickly swallowed.
"Done!"
Kei raised an eyebrow. She seriously hated hearing her name out loud. Silly pup. They could just change it then. "Come on then," he said with a laugh, hurrying down the path to the train station. If they were lucky, they'd make in time for the next train. Kei did not fancy waiting around in this cold. He pulled his hood over his head, watching the snow fall. Despite such a hearty meal of squirrel, Plotmon jumped after the flakes, chasing them with her tongue.
What was he going to say to Hida-san? What could you say to someone who had had to burn an empty casket? How could you just casually say, your daughter's alive? What did you respond with to that?
Probably the same thing I would say to my father if I ever met him, whatever that is. Kei shook his head as the train arrived, marveling his luck at it not being rush hour. He set Plotmon on his lap, acknowledging the curious looks of a tiny child whose partner hadn't hatched yet with a smile. He was used to it, and didn't mind letting Plotmon make faces at them the whole ride. It was pure cute anyway.
It was a welcome distraction, in any case.
The Hida home was a small apartment. With both husband and wife constantly working on one thing or another, having a lot of space was probably not necessary. Kei was lucky Iori-san was home. He felt Plotmon fidget as he rang the doorbell. "Stop it," he hissed. "You're supposed to be polite."
"I'm not good at polite."
Well, that was true. Still! "You can try at least," Kei told her as Hida Iori opened the door. He quickly bowed his head at the older man. "Good afternoon, Iori-san," he said softly, bowing his head. "May I come in? I'm sorry to bother you while you're off of work but..."
Iori shook his head, smiling a little. Kei knew how to handle the other man: polite honesty. It was a lot like he treated his grandparents, even though they didn't like it much themselves, playfully bemoaning how they had gotten such a polite little boy from their children. It was an odd joke, but Kei liked seeing them smile. Iori gestured for Kei to come in and the boy obediently followed, Plotmon sniffing around like she would find food on the floor.
Armadimon waved lazily from where he was happily flat on a cushion. Immediately, Plotmon bounded over, jumping onto the older Digimon's shell and laying happily on it. Kei laughed, feeling a little of the gloom in his chest loosen. He sat on the cushion and gratefully accepted the green tea. Sipping at it returned the heat to his stomach.
"I assume this isn't a casual visit." Iori gestured to the trim of gold on the collar of his shirt and the way his digivice rested in his free hand rather than on his belt loop. At Kei's wide eyes, Iori smiled a little. "Your mother brought it up to us at the last reunion. I've heard that Taichi-san is making a little Union out of you."
"Well..." Kei blushed and scratched his nose. "I… it's not quite like the one that's been forming in the Digital World already but… it's something. More of a connected branch. I guess that's how you would put it. I don't know. I don't talk with them much myself." Well, that saved him a little explanation, like about the real, true blue Digivice, rather than the terminal ones that all the parents were getting their kids.
"It's still an accomplishment of sorts, despite all of what you have to endure." Iori's voice was proud, but wistful. Kei didn't have to listen to know what the man was thinking about it. "Hikari-san must walk around with her heartbeat in her throat."
"Her and nana both," Kei replied, flushing darker. This was awkward. How was he going to bring this up?
The question was soon answered for him by the power going out all at once. Kei looked at him. "Is everything connected to the internet?"
"Shouldn't be..." Iori rose to his feet, followed by a cautious Armadimon. Wow, he thought cautious and Armadimon in the same sentence. "I have yet to put kitchen appliances on the same upgrade. Something must have turned on and blown a fuse..." The man trailed off as the television turned back on. His eyes narrowed, and Iori returned to watch the screen.
Kei looked toward it as well, and felt a lurch in his stomach. His ears caught the faint sound of waves and he looked around. Water began to seep up from the floorboards and around his knees and ankles. He dimly thought that he didn't want to walk home in these. Then he opened his eyes to the screen again, looking at the grainy image slowly clearing.
This is an unknown channel, gurgled a soft, familiar voice in his mind.
Dagomon?
Oh good, you are paying attention. Keep focused.
Kei reflected that that would be easier if ocean gods didn't say cryptic things in his ears while he needed to pay attention, but kept that thought to himself. He was only under the fickle deity's favor due to the fact that he had a strange softness for his mother. He didn't want to lose that. So he kept watching. He heard Iori-san moving around. His feet didn't squelch, which sent a sigh of relief almost out of Kei's mouth to cause a fuss. This meant the Ocean's closeness was affecting him and him alone. Even Plotmon was more focused on the television screen. That was good, at least.
Still meant he was crazy.
The volume turned up on the television speakers. Iori looked around. "I feel like I've been guided into a horror movie," he mused. "Where's Daisuke-san and his trope list when you need one?"
"Selling noodles, dagya." Armadimon leaned up on the table to see the screen better, leaving scratch marks on the already battered table.
Iori nudged his old friend's shell. "Don't be sarcastic."
Armadimon mumbled an apology underneath Kei and Plotmon's laughter. Then the speakers let out a whine. They all turned as the screen cleared, revealing the gray scenery he had seen just one week before, and even before that. The Dark Ocean was as solemn as ever, the waves steady and strong. They were ready to pull the corpses down.
Don't be macabre. Just watch.
Kei opened his eyes and ears, stroking the pad of his thumb against Plotmon's ear as she nuzzled his fingertips. He smiled mirthlessly as the song of a bird took to the speakers. A figure began to dance on the sand. Her hair was pale, bone-white, and Kei felt his smile widen a little. Yes, he knew that one. That was the one who had chased him through the beach. She was there again, twirling like the world was hers alone. She turned to look at the screen. She waved, and as she waved, everything flickered red and black, like a poisoned wound.
Then she was gone. In her place was Hida Mio, dark skin with blue veins, a smile that broke both cheeks. Her eyes were like pudding close to moldy as she opened them.
For a moment the screen looked like it had shattered. She raised her fists and beat them forward. Kei didn't dare look at Iori-san. She beat her fists twice more. Then Kei watched her breathe over the glass. She began to scrawl in foggy kana:
"The fire isn't doused in water."
Then, the lights turned back on. The news flickered onto the television. For a moment, they both stared at the screen. Then Kei cleared his throat. "That was what I came to talk to you about sir," he said. His voice was reverently soft in the air. "Mio-chan is alive. I need your help to figure out how we can save her."
A/N: This would get more editing but it's late. Also it took a slight horror movie turn for a minute there. Weird. Oh well. Please read and review.
