A/N: Whoah, this update really came around in two weeks. And it's once again longer than the previous one! I was so sure this would stop somewhere around 3k words... Next chapter should probably be up before the end of February.

Two small points in taking some liberties from canon. I have never actually written a story that would require background-work, apart from few spellings etc. and now I have been googling my fingers to the bone with odd trivia. However, I couldn't find an answer to whether Japanese media is busy or not in October. Of course, this would also require some knowledge of the field Hiroaki is reporting from, but anyway... So, October is not a busy month for Japanese media in this fic. Moreover, I had to change the layout of the apartment-building TK, Miyako & Iori live in. In canon, the hallways in each floor are open, which means walking in-sight and in open-air when entering the respective apartments. I changed it to a more Western(?) -type arrangement where the elevator runs in the center of the building, and the corridors and staircase are inside the exterior walls.

I think this is also a good point to stress that this fic is AU regarding the events after 02, meaning tri and epilogue, and through that the changes in characters etc., not AU in Adventure/02 universe itself so much. The history and structure of the Digital World are slightly modified, in addition, to other small gimmicks, but overall the basis of 02 and Adventure is quite strongly canon.

If you want to ask why the heck I remembered to comment that only with eight chapters already into the story, or just say plain hello, R&R.

(Plain hello will be considered as friendly trolling :D)

Disclaimer: Digimon belongs to Bandai & Toei Animation.


"I want to see him."

It took a moment for TK to understand what Angemon was on about. He had sensed that his partner had something on his mind as this had stayed back, letting the others get ahead of them on the early Thursday evening amidst the jungle trees of the Digital World. He was surprised by the comment, even if he had already been confused enough to ask whether something was wrong; Angemon was usually a mon to say things aloud when necessary.

His surprise was further strengthened because, despite the small curiosity after his tale on last Sunday, Patamon had not voiced the same will.

The glow from the setting sun set the world in a vibrant hue, Angemon's wings manifesting vividly against the background with the shining whiteness.

"Why?" TK heard himself asking, not to put out a challenge, but genuinely troubled.

However, the angel-type Digimon just shrugged his shoulders with a lax smile, clearly having some reservations on what to reply. "If he is really you, I'd know."

Angemon's tone had a confused note to it, as if asking why he needed a reason to want to see him. Though, TK wasn't entirely sure if his interpretation of the tone was correct.

TK's answer that they didn't know where his future counterpart was, was swiftly overrun by Angemon's unyielding, albeit gentle, reminder that he had been given a way to contact the man.

TK swallowed, looking away. Somehow the man had left him with hesitation he couldn't quite reason out. An intuition that fed him with doubt and a clear feeling that he wasn't eager — maybe not even willing at all — to introduce his future to Angemon. It wasn't anything particular per se. Nothing he could have easily pushed aside with logical arguments.

Averse to voicing his concerns, TK dug the D-terminal out of his pocket and typed the message, his fingers more rigid than he was trying to let on.

The handful of seconds he spent to expecting the reply felt profound. Angemon gazed past him to the rest of the group's backs, but neither of the two spent any clear heed even if the others had managed to get quite far ahead.

Finally, the terminal beeped as the counter-message reached his inbox.

"Another time."

To his relief, Angemon accepted the reply with no further words or inquiries. However, he could sense the underlying disappointment in the angel Digimon's stance. And as he pushed the terminal back to his pocket, he just hoped that his own relief and discomfort over the matter were harder to spot.


Angemon was holding his stance amidst the lush green of the Primary Village. There was a gentle — at times worryingly chill — gust of wind while the sun played hide and seek with the candy cotton clouds on the sky. He had just arrived five minutes or so earlier and was still taking in the place, the holy rod held casually in his right hand. He was waiting to spot Elecmon from the scenery and the quietness of the place was immediately saved to his memory - even if he was standing a little bit further from the central area.

He knew Elecmon.

Knew him very well, whether it came to past, present or future. But at this point, Elecmon didn't know him very well, and he didn't want to be rude, knowing that the small Digimon would appreciate keeping his distance from the baby-stage Digimons.

In a similar note, the place harbored a sense of righteousness in him. Taking into consideration all the changes and disturbances he had seen the Digital World go through, the Primary Village was the same. It had a clear, untarnished purpose and function. No glitches, just the origination of new life and new beginnings.

He knew Takeru was able to feel it too. His partner had been looking at the place with childlike enthusiasm on their first encounter. However, he could still feel the self-conscious and humbling proudness that Takeru had even then, seen the place with a second pair of eyes, as a haven for the new Digimons, stopping his fight with Elecmon when being able to see what it did to the beings around them.

A stronger brush of wind swung his hair in one swift motion, letting the ponytail fall gently back to its place a few seconds later.

"Takeru, we're supposed to go and check the ruins."

He knew that the human had heard him, even if this didn't raise his gaze from the baby Digimons amidst which he had kneeled. The air was fresh here, the floor was bouncy — now even more so thanks to his weight in the Champion form — and the colors were as bright as during their first visit.

With his hand still extended to greet the jumping baby-mons, Takeru turned his head to look at him, expression cheerful even if slightly reminiscing.

He had opted not to say anything, tilting his own head to the side as a make-shift inquiry. Despite that Takeru's memory and concentration were far more prone to mistakes than before, he knew that the blond man remembered their plan and wouldn't have let his earlier call go unnoticed out of spite.

"Nothing. Just..." Takeru stopped in mid-sentence, eyes losing their focus over the scenery. "Thinking back. This place, it feels the same. Same as back then."

Angemon gave a tiny nod out of understanding and let his own eyes sweep over the area to stir his memory.

Despite looking outwardly the same, Takeru's eyes were more downcast, the air of irreversibility descending over the situation. Angemon watched his human partner, placing Takeru's previous words of not feeling like himself to the familiar scene. Of how something could still feel familiar, even if the self doing the valuation felt so unfamiliar, and by this creating a distance to the place against all the queues. The human looked to be at loss, fighting down the uncomfortableness and Angemon was reminded very strongly of the past, albeit for a different reason.

To him the world was different, they were different, and carried a very different understanding of the things around them, in addition to, harboring very different expectations towards the future, but Takeru's pondering was more essential to his character than anything.

"Takeru…"

To an outsider, the drawn-out word could have sounded more like a request to heed the schedule or a reprimand to focus on the positive, but behind those, there was the more stressed meaning of the recognition of the essence.

Takeru looked him, a passing smile on his face, before standing up and leaving the babies jumping after him.

Even at the current moment, Angemon's head was tilted to the side with the memory-invoked, subconscious, act of sympathy.

The visit hadn't taken place too long ago and the growing discrepancy on what Takeru thought he was ought to do and where he felt he belonged had stayed simmering underneath the surface on both of their minds.

"Ah, Angemon."

The angel-type Digimon turned his gaze downward to see Elecmon who was clearly surprised to see him so unexpectedly.

He had visited the place in a passing a few weeks ago, but it had been more of a courtesy visit than a chance for a longer conversation.

Angemon let his mouth turn into a smile and exchanged the normal greetings, agreeing to help Elecmon with the evening supper to reciprocate the time he was swallowing from Elecmon's day.

And he was hungry himself.


"It seems quite quiet." Angemon let the words roll from his tongue nonchalantly, adding in just enough careful observation to mark the note as a question.

As expected Elecmon rose to his back legs, alert while placing few fishes on the fire. They had already fed the babies and remained as the last two mons awake in the area. "It is. –– Fewer digieggs have originated."

Angemon didn't move from his sitting position, remembering well how the future Elecmon had once told this to be an indication of upcoming hard times — that somehow the Digital World knew that it was an unfavorable time for new vulnerable Digimons, so the birth of new eggs was delayed until the threat was over. At the same time, it didn't sit well with his knowledge of the younger Chosens' fights in the Digital World, the kids were unlikely the only causes of a scuffle in the Digital World and it should have been visible here as well.

"Anything abnormal?" He finally asked, earning a shake of the head from the red and blue Digimon who was clearly deep in thoughts, not liking the situation.

"No, but the air…" Elecmon added pensively.

Angemon nodded in understanding; his own mind was still too shadowed by the traces of the Guard Levels and disturbances between the worlds, but with effort he could sense that it wasn't just him.

"Anything not-fully Digimon?"

Elecmon's ears twitched and eyes blinked once as he tried to remember anything out of the ordinary.

The following negative made Angemon more relaxed, glad that his earlier warning might prove out to have been in vain.

"Why here?"

Angemon appreciated the frankness Elecmon was approaching the topic. There was no dancing around the subject or hidden agendas. Elecmon was only interested in the well-being of the babies and through that, could be trusted.

Angemon took a moment to ponder how to formulate his answer. "There were disturbances in the future. –– In the end, they didn't seem to originate from anywhere particular, and it was finally thought that they would come from here. It seems that someone, something, is trying to affect the future balance of things."

The small Digimon considered the answer for quite a long time, contemplating the odds of how he would need to protect the place, "Bad?"

Putting the now empty bowl down slowly, Angemon gave a curt, tight smile, "Seems so."

It was fully silent in the small opening, aside from the fading cracking of the fire. And for a small second, Angemon let his mind see the red glow and accentuated shadows of the fire around them framing the eerie cubic towers.


Takeru had been sitting in the hallway for the majority of the day since entering the building in the late morning hours. He had entered, infiltrated, the apartment complex around 11 am, far after his younger self had left to school but before his mother had left to work, Mondays having carved into his mental calendar as a day for meetings and a late night in the office. It was a well-thought-out plan to avoid the agents keeping an eye on the younger kids' movements from spotting him. On a more profound note, he wasn't sure if the evasive tactic did any good, but trying to steer clear from every imminent source of trouble was so deep-rooted in him that he had opted the plan full-heartedly.

It had been a long wait. And a very awkward one on the top. The old lady and man from two doors down the corridor had been slightly baffled, if not alarmed, by a strange man loitering in the hall. Not for the first time in his life Takeru had been saved by his tidy outlook and well-mannered, calm responses; this time by claiming to be distant relative with just the right amount of resemblance and facts to actually pass the role.

He had given a soundless, but slightly exasperated, sigh afterward.

In some level, he had learned to accentuate to Angemon's mindset on waiting — that things happen when they happen, that personal distress over something certain was unnecessary. However, on a much deeper level, lied his personal trepidation.

Hate over waiting and being alone with his thoughts.

It seemed to take a long time before the right bling of the elevator and the distinct 'See you's between him, Miyako and Iori.

And then there was the telltale sound of silence as his younger self spotted him squatted against the wall and stopped in his tracks.

They both stared at each other, his younger self's mask of passive calmness cracking more than his own.

He could almost feel the way Patamon had to be moving in the backpack, surprised by the too-soon halt and the silence that followed.

"Sorry for intruding. Can I come inside?"

TK gave him an indistinct response and walked past him. However, his younger self did follow the normal courtesy and kept the door open for him, even if it was visibly clear that the young teen was not too eager to see him.

It looked unrealistically familiar, like re-living his own memories — which he in a way was doing — but it still felt surreal to fathom. The beige kitchen lamp Patamon had once almost crashed down, the ceramic tray — received by his mom's co-worker and lost in some move in some indistinct time-point of their lives.

All that brought him a feeling of something he didn't have time to catch with his younger self staring at him and posing a much more pressing concern.

While he had managed to walk into the hallway comparing everything to his memories, TK had moved past him to the kitchen area and placed his backpack on the counter, trying to find pieces of familiarity in him.

And the reservation couldn't be missed.

After some minutes Takeru broke the silence, "I think Patamon would like to be let out," nodding to the slight movement from the green bag.

The mirth in his voice didn't luckily carry over thanks to his overall mood, but his note managed to wake his younger self out of the reverie.

TK fumbled with the zipper, taking his time before unveiling Patamon's curious gaze.

Patamon looked at TK first, before sensing another presence behind him and turning around.

Takeru could easily read the small confusion and surprise over the orange Digimon's features, offering a hint of a smile in return. It had been a conscious decision to cause the meeting to happen in the real World. Not only to hide from stalking or wanting to remain unknown by the rest of the Chosen, but to meet here with Patamon, instead of much more observant Angemon.

"Would you mind closing the curtains, I'd think it would be better for me not to be seen here." Takeru interjected quietly, not moving from his spot from leaning the wall with his right shoulder.

A few swishes later, Takeru moved to the small kitchen—living room, taking a small look around before placing himself on the kitchen stool.

His younger self didn't seem to know what to do and just stood near the furthermost curtain in the living room corner.

Patamon, on the other hand, made few flaps with his wings and landed very close to him, well inside his personal space.

The small Digimon stared at him, eyes blinking slowly.

Without hesitation, Takeru lowered his head the small amount Patamon needed to be able to poke it with his tiny black pawn.

"Feels like skin."

Takeru didn't know it was meant as a question or a statement, but he knew to just take it, that Patamon would clarify his words if needed. He could feel the unwavering stare from the young teen across the room, ready to jump in the minute he would end up posing any threat to Patamon, but he didn't even take a glance, because at the moment Patamon deserved his full attention.

Eventually, Patamon relaxed back in a sitting position. He had been recognized, but Patamon's unbroken stare told him that there was something even Patamon didn't recognize.

It didn't surprise him, but there was that nagging disappointment, like guessing right the onset of an economic collapse.

"What did you want to talk about?" TK's voice rang, unnaturally harshly, in the quiet room, making both Patamon and Takeru to slowly break their staring and focus on the present.

"Trying to understand what is happening in the bigger picture. –– Mom will be at home about nine if I remember correctly?" Takeru surmised.

"Yeah. TK's mother always comes home after nine on Mondays." Patamon replied, the earlier contemplativeness fully absent from his voice and replaced by the distinctive cheerful note.

Amidst the white walls and the pressing silence, Takeru's gaze wandered around, spotting the packet of rice crackers. He was used to split-seconds of vivid and often painful recollections, but the packet felt different. His mind was momentarily consumed by the memory of sulking the whole way home from the supermarket when he had been around six and his mother hadn't been willing to buy one. Despite the hundreds, if not thousands, of crackers he must have eaten in his youth, he hadn't given them a single thought in a long time. And as TK focused on boiling water and cooking some ramen for Patamon, it was clear that none of them actually knew how to act in the given situation.

Whereas TK was evidently reserved out of dislike and apprehension, Takeru pushed his own emotions back, just because it was easier for him, his crappy mood of the past few weeks making him uninterested for small talk. Patamon was stuck in the middle, understanding none, why his partner, in either form, was very unlike his usual happy and easygoing self.

"What do you want to know?"

"A recap." Takeru stated, furrowing his brows and forming a scrutinizing expression, before waving it off with his right hand.

"A recap?"

"Mhmm. What has happened since the end of the Kaiser, since the opening of the gate — well overall."

Over an hour passed by with TK giving the explanation, interrupted very often by Takeru's questions and much less often by Patamon's additions.

Takeru had refused from the dinner TK had heated for himself and Patamon. His stomach did feel empty, but he felt too queasy to try and eat while maintaining the discussion.

There wasn't much in the discussion. Takeru could feel the partial unwillingness from the other side of the table over opening up or revealing too much. There were bits and pieces that differed from his own experiences but those were understandable. He was already familiar with the issue with the Dark Towers and let the point slide, knowing his younger self would most likely have very little to add to the question. It didn't still fully add up in his mind, and he could guess that his own reticent presence was in some way annoying the young teen.

This interested him to some extent. He was to some degree curious by nature, but also willing to abide to wait for answers from authority figures. The fact that the lack of information evoked emotions gave an indication that there was something wrong, or perhaps something upsetting, invisible to him at the moment. He tried testing some waters but retained from being too open so early on and with Patamon watching their exchange. Overall, it was getting late and he was clutching at straws, the writer in the back of his head underlining how important details could be.

"Mom has been busy at work." The blond-haired boy answered, leaving out that he had been one of the last major topics. "Dad's done long hours too."

"It's October, really?"

TK confirmed his earlier statement. "Yamato said that he has rarely had the time to even sleep at home."

Their father was known to work long hours — one of the reasons for the divorce, Takeru surmised now. But after the events with the Digital World three years back, small changes had happened and Hiroaki had become more involved in both of their lives, realizing how fast they were growing up. Of course, Hiroaki could still be seen working until late at night, and the few day-offs were rather saved for later use, but more and more the 24/7 -shifts were reserved only for busy occasions and pressed deadlines.

October wasn't one of them.

Takeru twirled the tablet with his right hand, his gaze expectant and pondering as if the tablet would provide him answers when given time.

"Find out what it's all about?"

"You want me to find out why dad is late at work?"

Takeru detected that despite the tone, the words didn't indicate a question but a polite dismissal, his younger counterpart not favoring the idea.

Takeru let out a deep hum, "Ask Yamato or dad––."

"––Just like that?" The overlapping answer sounded incredulous, making Takeru look at the young teen, face not giving any indication what he himself was feeling.

"It should be easy."

TK stood still, staring at him, face similarly closed but eyes that shone with hardness.

Petulant hardness, Takeru added to himself, the situation evoking an unexpected flame of irritation in him.

"You are going to tell the others?" TK asked, still not moving from his spot, but voice failing from being strong enough to hide the uneasiness the situation stirred in him.

Takeru drew in a breath of air, letting it out slowly. "Some point, yes." And to prevent any future objections, "Depends on what we find out."

Once their discussion was dying down and the meeting coming to an end, Patamon's fidgeting became more obvious.

The small Digimon was antsy about something and Takeru knew that Patamon wouldn't ask whether it would be okay to ask a question. Instead, the small Digimon would wait for the right moment, or leave the notion unasked. Given his mood, Takeru wasn't sure if he wanted to know what Patamon had on his mind, and he could sense the same from his younger self, even if then the realization was mixed with insecurity on how to deal with the situation in the first place.

Swallowing his nerves and discomfort Takeru opted to make the opening, "What is it?" managing to make both himself and his other self tensed.

A tiny blush covered Patamon's face behind the short white fur and the small Digimon averted his gaze to the table shyly. "I was just wondering, about… me."

Ignoring the growing tension on the other side of the table Takeru felt a twitch of a smirk on his face, "You?"

"Well… you seem to be alone here."

"Mhmm." Takeru nodded deeply, raising his brows as an act like he couldn't see the point of the question. Ultimately he gave a small snort to his own unplanned jest, "In the Digital World."

Patamon's eyes brightened considerably at this. "Really?"

"Uh-huh."

TK watched the exchange quietly. For the brief moment, he had expected Angemon to appear in the previous Sunday's battle, but for the situation not having spawned out as he had thought, the feeling had eluded him since. A small nagging question had stayed in the back of his mind. And now, when confirmed, the simple reply somehow shed new light to the man in front of him.

"Ah, Angemon…"

Takeru could read but didn't overly enjoy the shock on the other occupants' demeanor.

"I'm Angemon?"

Takeru toyed with the tablet again, "Yeah. ––Most of the time."

Patamon's eyes were wide as the small Digimon thought of the possibilities. On the other hand, TK was even more shunned to himself, eyes on the dishes that he excused to take to the sink.

"That must be weird."

"Weird?"

"Yeah, I mean, I have always been Patamon in the Human World." Patamon answered, oblivious to his teasing.

Takeru played the memory of Patamon complaining about the lack of space in every apartment he had lived in. "Yeah, still, mostly." He settled, letting the tablet stay on the table.

"Can I meet him?"

"Yeah, I think it'll be inevitable."