Disclaimer: Don't own digimon nor any of its brilliant characters. :)

Author's Note: Just another test. :) Will be deleted once I put up the revised version.

Digimon 02: Parallels

The air around me still feels like a cage
Love is just a camouflage for what resembles rage again

—Snuff by Slipknot

"He was Blackbeard's bo'sun," John whispered huskily. "He is the worst of them all. He is the only man of whom Barbecue was afraid."
"That's him," said Peter.
"What is he like? Is he big?"
"He is not so big as he was."
"How do you mean?"
"I cut off a bit of him."
"You!"
"Yes, me," said Peter sharply.
"I wasn't meaning to be disrespectful."
"Oh, all right."
"But, I say, what bit?"
"His right hand."
"Then he can't fight now?"
"Oh, can't he just!"
"Left-hander?"
"He has an iron hook instead of a right hand, and he claws with it."
"Claws!"
"I say, John," said Peter.
"Yes."
"Say, `Ay, ay, sir.'"
"Ay, ay, sir."
Peter Pan, chapter 4 "The Flight"

Chapter Two
The Stolen Heart

It hit her like a cannon ball.

She was so surprised when she heard that loud sound. It somehow reminded her of her grandmother, who used to toss water out a bucket. The water would splatter concrete, sometimes causing Hikari to slip and fall if she wasn't being careful. It... sounded like rain. Like teardrops on ivory piano keys; fingernails clicking on ebony. Like delicate cat paws on sanded wooden floors.

Clk clk clk

She was so surprised when she saw specks of blood spot the sand beneath her.

GSH

She was so surprised when her head jerked back into a near-silent scream, a scream that didn't echo yet sent rippling tremors throughout a body too tiny to hold such a huge sound. Immediately, it wasn't only her arm that felt a stinging SNAP reverberate, but she saw a flash of white wind collide against her body, forcing her to slam into the ground. More blood splattered, followed by another white wind that came rushing from the figure's body. It was as if an invisible blade was striking her, first jaggedly shooting into her shoulder's socket before tearing upward and striking her face. As soon as invisible blade met face, half her world went black while the other half remained a deep red mess.

Clk clk clk

"KARI!"

Hikari's head snapped up just in time to see Gatomon launching toward her partner, her pupils mere specks in the center of her bulging white eyes. She was a flash of snarls and purple, her golden tail ring sparkling as her claws swiped for the stranger's face.

RRRRRRRRRIP

More blood, this time not specking the sand, but splashing it. Both Hikari and Gatomon hoarsely screamed at the same time—cried out as it wasn't only Hikari's world beginning to fade away. The brawny figure wasn't holding his face in fear from Gatomon's strike, no, he was standing above Gatomon, watching as the digimon's voice grew dead silent. She was lying still. She was lying—lying—not—not fully there. Not—not together.

Hikari couldn't even speak.

What just happened?

Did he just—kill Gatomon? No, she couldn't be dead. She wasn't turning into data. She was just silent. Unmoving. She was still alive, right? He didn't kill her, right? Even though, vertically, from the navel and up—even her face—even though—she was... she was alive?

Right?

Hikari couldn't think. Everything was jumbled. Together. Unmoving, unthinking. Even the sands twisting and twining and hitting her bleeding shoulder—even then, there was nothing to feel.

Realizing that Gatomon was down and out just like that, the world turned into an empty shell around her.

"Ga... to... mon?"

The next thing she knew, she watched as five gaunt, thin fingers reached toward her face. Hikari attempted to scream, but her voice was caught in her throat a second later and instead it came out as a choked cry. She lifted a fist to punch his arm, but the figure only gave a low titter that rumbled from inside his white steel helmet. She didn't realize what was happened until he lifted her up by her neck and turned her so she could see into his helmet—see from within that cold, lonely darkness that a pair of eyes were staring deep into her own.

A pair of glistening, lively blue eyes; eyes that caught her and held her and disallowed all movement. Eyes that stopped every breath, every cell, every ounce of blood from traveling from one vein to another.

She wanted to scream, but those eyes even silenced the most raucous voice box.

"It appears I took your arm," the figure said in an pleased voice. Something dark and purple crumpled inside Hikari's chest at that moment—something that gave a rumbling growl from within her as the figure watched her malignant gaze. Hikari hadn't felt anything like it in her whole life; it was if a beast curled up in her. Took her. However, she shushed the beast—she couldn't get angry. Not yet. Not like this. The figure chuckled, tilting his head to the side. "Ah, you're the Destined of Light, aren't you? The... Chosen One. I thought you might be."

If it weren't for the hand holding her by the neck, she had a feeling her head would've been rolling backward by now. Her eyes glazed over, the world began to tumble away, her breathing shortened. At that moment, there was only two things in the whole world that echoed not only in her near-deaf ears, but through her ears to her mind, from her mind to her core, her soul, her self.

One, she could hear his voice as he cooed to her, telling her things she half didn't understand and half wished he wouldn't say.

Two, she could hear her heart again, thumping loudly in her chest.

Ker-THUMP, it sounded like. Ker-THUMP, ker-THUMP.

"I don't understand why they chose a weakling like you," the gaunt figure said with another low chuckle. One of his hands moved from her neck to gently brush her chin, and from her chin he rested his palm on the center of her chest.

"I can feel it beating, Kari." Even though all she could see beneath that helmet was his bright blue eyes, there was a flutter to his voice that said it more than his eyes did. He was smirking. Mocking. Amused. "If I were alive longer than I have been, I wonder if I ever would've wanted one. You know, a heart and whatnot."

Gatomon. Her gaze moved toward the digimon nearby, whose blank eyes slowly turned toward Hikari. As soon as their eyes met, Hikari could tell that Gatomon's body was quickly dissipating, and she was using every ounce of strength she had to not fade away. Already, Hikari could see her wavering data, turning blurry and fuzzy and ready to ascend into a crying aether.

Just as soon as her eyes met Gatomon's, those eyes slid back to the figure's. It was true that they were bright and lively, however, there was something else—something behind them—something that wasn't lively, or bright, or amused. There was something dead in them, too. Something... lonely.

Why?

"You'll have to forgive me for being so rude," he said, the amusement swiftly vanishing from his voice. His fingertips drew above her left breast, nailbitten claws pressing into frail human flesh. "It's nothing personal, oh mighty Chosen One. But I don't really want you to kill me someday. I hope you understand."

Understand?

Why?

Why did he hurt her?

Why?

Why did he hurt Gatomon?

Why?!

Looking into his eyes as she felt claws bite into her chest, Hikari was reminded of many things.

Just last week, she was lying belly-down on the rosy sheets of her double-sized bed. Takeru, with his ever-so-cute fisherman hat, sat down next to her and gave a ferocious yawn, his arms stretching out wide as he blinked toward Hikari. She looked up at him with glossy eyes as she, too, yawned.

Takeru grinned and said, I guess yawns really are contagious.

Watching his baby blues blink as she tiredly smiled at him, he then laughed and bounded forward like an uncontrollable kid. His arms wrapped around her in a warm embrace, his voice as soft as velvet as he hugged her close to him. B'awww, c'mere—you know you'll always be my best friend, a'ight?

The next flash of memories hit her with impenetrable force. They flickered so fast, she swore that if mental whiplash was possible, it would've happened to her. Next she knew, she was remembering as she watched herself in Daisuke's own dark eyes. She could see her reflection, smiling at him warmly as his expression brightened. Daisuke was always bright, always warm, always there—even when she didn't want him to be there, he was.

However, a second later, he turned away from her with a perky grin and watched as she turned toward a basketball hoop. She told herself to do it just like Takeru taught her to; remember to pull back your elbow, one hand at the ball's apex while other is on the other side; aim for the box. And sure enough, the basket made it. A second later and Daisuke picked her up off her feet.

Ahh, how can I protect the perfect woman?! He asked through a grin as he twirled her in a circle, forcing a dizzied giggle to form on her unready lips. Daisuke laughed, too, even though she could tell he was pouting inside—she beat him at hoops, and now it was not only Takeru who was better than him at basketball, but Hikari, too!

Another flash of memories.

Tai, he—he left— She looked up at her big brother, who watched her with sad eyes. She remembered there was this empty hole where her heart should've been; it felt like someone tore her right open and showed her heart for everyone to see, only to take it away. In that moment, Taichi reached forward, wrapped his brotherly arms around her, and hugged her. She hugged him back, tears forming—falling—becoming—disappearing—coming back—leaving. The world around her didn't seem to exist anymore the day Shan Poi moved away.

Don't worry, Kari, Taichi told her as he pulled away to smile at her. He tipped her chin up with the side of his index finger, his watery does catching and keeping her light until she would need it back. We'll always be here, you know, to catch you when you fall.

She was then brought to another memory—this one broader, longer, thicker and realer than the others.

A few weeks ago, she invited Miyako over to watch movies with her and Gatomon. Of course, there was ice-cream (Rocky Road this time), and of course, there were smiles, giggles, and jabs at each other. Originally, Hawkmon was supposed to be there as well, but Miyako told them he had a date with a pretty little pink birdy.

Are you serious? Hikari asked her. He and Biyomon...?

Oh, yeah, Miyako said through a toothy grin, giving Hikari a thumbs-up. And of course, it's all thanks to my great matchmaking skills! Girl, the Destined of Love is in da HOUSE.

The three talked about a lot of things that night—like how Miyako realized she was beginning to develop real feelings for Ken Ichijouji. Everyone knew she'd crushed on him since the moment she realized he was facing Daisuke in a soccer match back in the good ole days; everyone thought it was just that, though. A crush. A crush that faded as soon as she discovered his true identity. But the truth was that watching Ken grow into this great person only made Miyako look deeper into him; see him beyond the brawn and the beast to the beauty he held inside of him. It was physical attraction, but lately, as they were growing older, Miyako began to wonder if her crush grew.

Of course, Miyako thought she was totally in loooooove! with him. Hikari, however, thought it was probably something bigger than a crush but a little less than love, even if they'd known and liked each other for a long time. People said you can't truly love someone unless you've known them for at least five years. Hikari didn't know whether or not that was true, but she did know that Miyako, as someone who wielded love beyond compare, would figure things out on her own.

Hikari also remembered when Miyako teased her about her own love life, too.

Now, what happened to that Shan Poi kid? She asked Hikari. Hikari just laughed and batted away Miyako as she attempted to give an intelligible response.

Well, we were doing pretty well until he had to move back to Hong Kong with his brothers—I think it was because their grandpa was sick, Hikari told her with a slight grin. In truth, I didn't know he was such a gentleman!

Yeah, beyond all those rippling muscles, there was actually a personality! Miyako chided, poking Hikari's side. Hikari just laughed in response and again batted her away, but Miyako didn't stop there. So now there's the Poi Brothers, TK, Davis, Willis, and, uh, how many more guys competing for your affections?

Gatomon just snorted. You two are a bunch of lovesick hormonal puppies in heat!

Miyako and Hikari blinked at the feline for a few seconds, turned to blink at each other, then Gatomon, then each other. Then, with a slight mischievous grin, the two girls turned to Gatomon and flung themselves forward, tackling Gatomon until the cat hissed and struggled to get out of their grips.

It's no use! Hikari shouted. You shall not escape us, my feline friend!

Yeah, Miyako snickered. Besides, you're no one to talk, future Mrs. Wizardmon!

Immediately, Gatomon stopped struggling in order to cover her heat-ridden face, her fangs biting down on her bottom lip hard enough to nearly break its skin. The girls giggled, but Gatomon merely gave them a half-glare as she said, Don't tease meeeee!

Then Hikari came across that memory—a memory carefully stored not only in her mind, but even through paper; records and newspapers and articles and even her mother's camera.

There was this picture she remembered her mother took of her when their "big" adventures came to an end. Everyone was there to take it the day MaloMyotismon died—that was four years ago to the day, man. Hikari stood holding Takeru's hand as Daisuke wrapped his arm around her shoulder; Miyako wrapped her arms around both Iori's and Ken's as Ken ruffled Daisuke's spiky hair with his free hand. The digimon all stood by their respective partner, some clinging to their legs as others stood loner-style.

However, it wasn't only those twelve in the picture: it was massive. The first group got together as well, so Taichi and Agumon, Yamato and Gabumon, Sora and Biyomon, Koushiro and Tentomon, Jou and Gomamon, and Mimi and Palmon could get into the picture, too. Not a second later and the Spore Kids jumped in, joined by all the friends the Destined made during their world tour, from Catherine in France to Michael in America. Even Wallace showed up to commemorate this, with both his digimon partners. Andromon, Elecmon, Meramon, Whamon and Leomon and Ogremon and all of their digimon buddies visited to commemorate this event—the event that would forever mark the Earth as not the only world with intelligent life.

Most of all, as Hikari attempted to force herself back to the present, the figure's eyes reminded her of something else—someone else—and that was why her gaze soon shifted toward Gatomon nearby. The feline was lying stiffly, staring up at the sky as a line of where a tear once was soaked the fur starting from the corner of her eyes, down her temple, to staining the sand. Hikari knew that Gatomon wanted to move more than anything to save her partner—but with a wound like that—Hikari could barely move, herself, and she hadn't even been... been torn like that... like...

She'd gotten vertically ripped in half.

Hikari's gaze went from Gatomon to the figure—particularly to those empty, soulless eyes. As bright and lively as he tried to make them, they were still void of all emotion except one.

Loneliness.

And loneliness led to fear, concern, stress—sadness. Yes, in the stranger's eyes, there was loneliness, and fear, and concern, and stress and sadness—everything that shouldn't have been in his eyes was there, and Hikari wanted to hate him for it. She wanted to hate him for what he'd done to Gatomon, she wanted to hate him for the twinge she felt running down her chest, she wanted to hate him for making the world around her a hazy mess as she struggled to stay conscious.

She wanted to hate him.

But the fact of the matter was that... Hikari didn't even know what true hatred was. And she couldn't ever hate a creature she pitied, no matter what he did to her or her loved ones. Embittered, Hikari acrimoniously laughed and shook her head, thinking about what people like Miyako and Taichi would say to her.

Why can't you hate someone, Hikari? What did he do to you to deserve your pity? So what if his eyes looked lonely? GOOD, for what he did to you and Gatomon, he SHOULD be lonely, the ripe bastard! Oh God, what would Yamato and her parents say?

Why didn't you kill him, Kari? Why didn't you just get it over with? It wouldn't be the first time you took the life of a digimon.

Please. As if she could kill him now, even if she wanted to. Without Gatomon, Hikari was... nothing. A weak paragon of light, persecuted and fallen from her pedestal. She may have represented light for some time, but today, that light would waver.

It was because of this digimon, to boot.

Why can't you just hate him? Why can't you at least do that for yourself, you silly airhead?

Yet, there was something inside her—something that boiled and bubbled and seethed with rage—just at the thought of hating someone. It was a creature separate from the purple beast curled up in her chest. No, this was also a monster, but it wasn't curled up inside her. It was unleashed.

It wouldn't let her discover hate today.

Especially if it was hate toward a digimon with eyes similar to how Gatomon's used to be, before she and Hikari became friends.

Just hate him and be done with it, something inside her fumed, claws pressed against metaphorical bone and metaphorical flesh. Hikari inner-winced at the slithering voice, like a creature that wanted to rip her apart limb-from-limb. You dimwit, why do you have to be so righteous all the time? Why can't you just let it go? Let it all go? Why do you have to be the perfect little saint and not hate the bastard who's gonna KILL you AND Gatomon?

Hikari bit her bottom lip, staring again into the flickering eyes of the destroyed digimon whose hand held her to his mercy. He was there physically in front of her, holding her up by her neck as she struggled to stay awake; held her as she struggled to live. The world around her was swiftly falling away like the petals of a rose in fall, yet she fought.

Fought against both the darkness trying to take hold of her mind, and the fear she felt rippling in her chest. Her fear wasn't that she was going to die. Her fear was simple: would she discover hate today? She didn't want to, especially because...

Gatomon probably did a few horrible things when she was working under Myotismon...

She wanted to destroy the Destined, especially Hikari...

And what about Wizardmon? If Wizardmon hadn't been there for Gatomon, regardless of her wrong-doings, then she wouldn't be the same digimon she was today...

What about Ken?

If Daisuke hated Ken even after he regretted what he'd done, what would've happened?

What if this digimon was really feeling what his eyes conveyed?

What if he was lonely, afraid, sad?

What if he was...

lost?

It was strange because Hikari always fought to help the helpless. Even now, one minute away from death, she was struggling to save anyone she could. Even if they took her life and the life of the digimon she cared most about. Even now—even—she didn't listen to the snakelike voice hissing at her to let go of her forgiveness, to destroy her love and her light, and to hate him. It wanted her to beget every slice of humanity still inside her.

However, even for the creature who did this to her and Gatomon, she couldn't do it.

She wanted to.

She knew the digimon warranted her hate.

But... she couldn't. Not so long as his eyes shared the same dim abyss that Gatomon's eyes once had, that Ken's eyes once had, that even Takeru's eyes once had when they faced the greatest of shadow monsters. These were her eyes when Taichi and Agumon left her to return to the Digital World—the eyes hers became as his fingertips left her cold and numb. Lonely. Afraid. Sad. Lost.

You're a fool, Kari, the voice seethed. But you've always been one—even to your death.

Ker-thump.

There it was. Her heart again—beating loudly in her chest. It was a reminder of who she was.

Ker-thump.

Her heart was a protector.

Ker-THUMP

Her heart was a beacon of light, there to guide her and to love her.

Time to love.

To forgive.

To help.

Here Hikari went.

Ker-thump

Just say one word, Hikari. Say one, and the rest will come easily.

"Friend..." Hikari gurgled, her hand trembling as she tried to reach toward the digimon's face. Her muscles stopped cooperating midway through the reach, causing them to fall limp at her side as the world around her faltered again. However, she watched the figure's eyes widen; watched as his pupils shrunk and his grasp on her weakened. She smiled warmly, even sadly. Somehow, she found the strength to speak, even though her voice was broken; breaking. She was breaking, broken, bleeding; she was dying and destroyed at the same time, but she spoke. "Every... every—mon—has... has light. Even the dark—the darkest digi..."

Lift your arm, Kari, she told herself. Again, she tried to lift that weakening arm, even if her muscles were screaming at her to stop. Tendon and bone creaked with unwanted movement. Her body fiercely rebelled against her mind, but she wouldn't be stopped. Lift your arms, reach him, and touch him.

Ker-thump, ker-thump, ker-thump.

Grimacing, she felt a rush of heat fill her body as drops of sweat formed on her temple, running down her neck as, somehow, nearly screaming in the red agony, she touched his chin. The immense power that single motion took was enough to make her smile despite the pain; it made her smile, and it made the tears filling her eyes worth it to know they were worth it falling away.

"Loneliness—ness—shouldn—shouldn't be shared," Hikari whispered, that same shaky hand soon after falling away from the creature's chin as her smile unintentionally faded. "Let me... be your friend."

The creature watched her with his beady gaze, not a single thing within him moving nor loud, not a single thing happy nor sad. He remained absolutely silent. The only thing noticeable about him were his eyes, which traced every line of her face, every crinkle of hair and every fold of her lips.

"I—" he began, choking on his words. A second later and she watched his eyes narrow into a frown, his grip tightening around her throat (though not enough to strangle her). "Are you kidding me? I cut off your arm and killed your pussy cat."

Life. That was the first thing she really noticed about his voice. A lively, bright tone, just like his eyes. However, also just like his eyes, there was something dead and uncaring in that voice, like the world could shatter beneath him and he wouldn't even notice because, hey, his world was shattered a long time ago. It was only through this voice, these brilliant eyes, and his armor that Hikari suddenly made a realization.

The figure wasn't just some figure she saw one day in the desert.

This was the guy.

The guy she'd seen in dozens of dreams; the digimon she was worried about for months. The one creature who made her sleepless nights turn into endless days, made her body a vessel of infinite prophecy and pain, the one creature who made her realize that their "big" adventures weren't over. There were still many more they would face, the first of which would begin with his name. The name of the creature holding her by her throat, who became suddenly very stunned by just a single gesture of kindness.

He was the destructor. The destroyer.

In her dream, she'd named him oblivion, because that was all that he created. Death. Pain. Misery.

Even so...

"I'm not afraid," she told him. She smiled sadly, watching as his eyes glossed over and froze. "But... you are."

GSSSSSSH

Again, Hikari threw her head back in a roar, fingers clawing frigidly at the air as fist plunged through flesh. She heard another scream—something hoarse and high-pitched, that pierced the brilliant sun—a scream she swore was Gatomon's but couldn't be sure—but one thing she was sure about was the crippling impact of his arm sliding through her as if she were warm butter.

The beast inside her body snarled.

She cried out, barely managing in the swift heat of adrenalin to raise her hand and clasp his wrist as she stared the monster in his bright blue eyes.

The creature leaned in so close Hikari could feel the cold metal of his helmet brush her ear. She nearly screamed, her voice caught only by a blood clot that began curdling up in her throat. The creature nearly laughed in amusement—making the beast inside her body roar.

"It's odd," he whispered. She could feel his breath brush against her neck, one fist through her while the other held her up by her waist. Hikari's legs attempted to snap forward—to crumple—to stop the pain surging through her chest traveling through millions of little pins of pain receptors. She wanted everything to stop, yet nothing did. The figure sighed, shook his head, and continued, "I think... in another lifetime... I was meant to protect you. In the end, I'm warning you not to come looking for me. Pity."

I... don't think there'll be a problem with that... Hikari hissed, snarling through bloodstained teeth. The figure looked on at her with a sigh, his head tilting slightly to the side.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "But I have to do this."

And just like that...

GHHHH

...He wrenched his arm out of her, held her to his chest, and gently placed her onto the golden grains of sand as the winds swept bronzy bristles around prickly cacti and reddened soil. Hikari watched him with simple doe eyes—she realized then that the weight of the world was finally pressing against her chest, pressuring her into that simple oblivion she'd always dreamed about.

Darkness was seeping into her sight, at first devouring everything at the corner of her sight.

Heh, she thought bitterly.

As the figure began to walk away from her, he disappeared within the darkness consuming her sight.

I... never would've thought...

In the near distance, she watched as Gatomon's gentle blue data began to flitter upward, twisting and twining as square specks before a perilous orange dusk.

...Oblivion is this painless...

And Gatomon disappeared into the shadows of her mind's unconscious reverie.

-\/-

I am the creature who stole your heart...

The one who you are destined to destroy...

My name…

Is

CHAOSMON

-\/-

(Don't forget)

Don't forget what?

\ It was like Hikari was floating in an endless dream. Her eyes were closed, yet she could see the soft pinks and the luminous blues of a world she didn't know, nor a world she quite understood. /

(Don't forget... who you are)

Who I am?

\ Her brow furrowed. /

(...Even though he has your heart, you shouldn't forget—you can't forget—that you are...

you are

you are

you are

you are

you are

You are...)

( . THE ONE . )

The One...

\ It sounds light on your tongue, doesn't it? /

(Save him... and the worlds he will crumble.)

-\/-

When Hikari dragged herself out from that endless darkness, she found herself peering into a pair of bolt blue eyes that at first appeared to be two massive spheres hanging eerily above her head. A second later and she realized that they were Gatomon's eyes—eyes she was surprised to see.

"Kari?" Gatomon whispered, reaching a paw forward to rest gently on Hikari's shoulder. "Kari, are you awake?"

Was she?

She didn't feel awake.

But she didn't feel asleep, either.

Even though she could feel her fingertips kneading linen bed sheets, she wasn't kicking or screaming or writhing in pain. In fact, there was no pain, there was no happiness, no sadness—even her surprise was dull, numbed, barely existent. She wasn't scared.

Her eyes were just staring ahead, right into the glistening depths of Gatomon's beautiful blues.

"I... don't know..." she finally said, attempting to sit up. However, she felt Gatomon's vice-like grip on her shoulder and immediately knew she would have to lie back down. Gatomon bit her bottom lip in silence, her grip loosening once Hikari complied and lied flat on her back, staring apathetically above her at the ceiling.

Slowly, she drew her gaze back to Gatomon. Her gaze caught on her digimon blood-marred fur, strips and bits dyed into a rich mahogany hue by assumedly the gaping gash winding from her bellybutton to the violet tip of her left ear. Even so, it wasn't so much of a gash anymore as a scar—closed, healed, no longer bleeding. Nothing was left of Chaosmon's heralding attack but a cicatrize.

Gatomon was no longer two halves from the waist up, but stitched back together like Hikari's favorite little ragdoll. The girl didn't know if she was concerned, upset, or amused—and the unknown knowledge of that feeling was almost as frightening as the fact that she didn't feel either. She only knew what she was supposed to feel. The best part was that she knew she should be scared, yet she wasn't. All she knew was that those four essential emotions were blank expression on her silk face.

"Gatomon..." She smiled sadly at her digimon. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop him."

"Don't apologize—I'm the one who's supposed to protect you," Gatomon said through biting lips. She sighed and leaned forward, hugging Hikari as tightly as she could without hurting her, which was surprisingly tight. Hikari patted her digimon's back, her eyes falling half-lidded as her precarious gaze scanned the room.

There were four cream-colored walls with tacky floral wallpaper pasted to the tops and bottoms of each solid barrier. There was a door a little bit away from the bed, right next to a small circular room that cut into the current room Hikari was in. She could only assume that room was a bathroom, while next to it there were desks and chairs, a beeping heart monitor and several of Hikari's favorite books (The Tale of Genji by Murasaki Shikibu and winner of the 123rd Akutagawa Prize, Kiregire by Machida Kou). Hikari pulled away from Gatomon to reach toward The Tale of Genji (if not just by habit), only to watch as the blinding sunlight flowed from the window beside her bed and landed on her right arm.

The memory struck her like raindrops on grass in summer.

Back in the desert, she ran up to him, she—touched him—and told him she wanted to help him—she—just wanted to help someone who was lost—but the only thing she saw was a flash of white wind and the thickness of red thereafter. She felt a rush of heat fill her right shoulder, and for a moment, she swore she could both still feel her arm and, at the same time, feel nothing there at all. When she tried to see where the white wind struck her, she realized it hit her like a catapult. Her arm was hasta la vista, bye-bye. Gone.

Yet, here she was, reaching toward The Tale of Genji with the same arm she'd lost.

"Gatomon," she said, eyes widening as she pulled her trembling hand away from the book and stared down into its shaky splendor. She followed every crevice, every turn, every fold and line and wrinkle. Gatomon watched her silently—Hikari didn't think there was a single thought in her head that could've consoled the human girl at that moment.

Especially because what Hikari saw wasn't necessarily her arm, her hand, her flesh, but something—someone—else's. She wasn't staring at the arm of a human's.

She was staring at an arm that wasn't metal or plastic, or even a hook like in all those pirate movies Hikari used to watch when she was younger. No, the hand she saw was twice the size it used to be. Her upper-arm was a bulging pocket of muscle about the size of her thigh, while her lower-arm harbored dozens of red gleaming...

scales?

...Mythril?

Hikari felt Gatomon rest her palm firmly on her shoulder, even though her partner was as silent as the world around her was quickly becoming. It didn't take long before it was only Gatomon she could hear. Yes, she could hear the air filling Gatomon's lungs, raising her chest; she could hear that same air leave Gatomon's lungs and brush Hikari's hair past her shoulders.

She could hear Gatomon's shaky voice as she said, "When I woke up, I was all healed. If it weren't for these scars, I would've thought it was just a nightmare. That—that monster left his mark on me... and you."

Hikari stared blankly at the arm, examining the way the sun shimmered dimly against its red glossy surface. A second later and she bitterly grinned, her fingertips tracing between each scale, each bulging vein, each diamond glint.

"Heh," she said, looking up at Gatomon. "Some mark, eh?"

"Hikari."

Again, Gatomon said her full name. It hadn't even been 24 hours since Hikari last heard her full name spill onto Gatomon's lips—she supposed it was just one of those big days, the kind of day you'd never forget. Hikari wished she'd stop having those. At least, the bad kind.

"I want you to look over at your heart monitor again," Gatomon told her. Hikari's brow furrowed quizzically, but Gatomon only looked down at her feet as if she were ashamed. Hikari couldn't help but to wonder why and oblige—but when she looked up, she suddenly felt very... odd. She thought she was hooked up to the equipment. She could feel the equipment connected to her. Gatomon just sighed and softly placed her paw on her forehead, voice strained as she continued, "No one can explain how, but... your arm wasn't the only thing he took away."

The heart monitor was flatlined.

And Hikari was still alive.

-\/-

He watched his reflection with a glimmer of outraged anger.

His body was shaking, even though he wasn't quite aware why. All he knew was that he just took Yagami Hikari's heart away from her and, at the same time, gave her a burden he didn't believe she could bear.

The creature crouched over the simple well, palms clasped against its gray sandy stones, a pail filled with green-hued water swinging at the top of a wooden apparatus connected to the well. He couldn't stop watching his rippling reflection in the water—his off-white armor, the color of the cloths wrapped around his gaunt figure, the sword he wore on his hip... he could see it, but when he attempted to look past the darkness beneath his helmet, he couldn't see a thing.

What color were his eyes?

Only darkness was behind the white shell encasing him.

He'd seen them just seconds ago, reflecting in the doe hue of Hikari's own brilliant gaze. He'd seen them, he touched her, he wanted to help her.

But then he forgot who he was and why he was there.

All he knew was that he needed a heart—because without a heart, he couldn't move. Couldn't think.

He couldn't sing.

"Heh," he grunted, plunging his hand down into the water pail right into the center of his reflection. The ripples multiplied so quickly, he couldn't even make out his figure anymore.

All was well.

"It was easy, you know," he said to himself, turning from the well to a great-lit city nearby. He peeled back skeletal lips into a scarecrow grin, his head tilting slightly backwards as the sky turned dark above him. "I should steal more of these. They're beautiful things. Lively things. I need more, anyway, don't I?"

Yes...

Yes, he did need more.

Because he didn't remember who he was or where he'd come from, hearts were all he had left.

And they were so easy to get, after all.