Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.

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Chapter: 9

The glint of dawn filtered in through Teruo's bedroom window and he looked up with dry, crusty eyes. He yawned in response to it, his eyelids feeling as though they were weighed down by lead.

"Whoever says good morning to me deserves to be shot," he muttered, taking the screwdriver in his hand to the small mechanical device in his hand. The device was circular with a bronze coloring to it. Right now its top was open, giving it the appearance of a locket—albeit one with exposed circuitry, battery, and a computer chip.

If this works though, whoever said "early bird gets the worm" deserves cookies.

"Man I'm tired," he yawned again, turning a screw. "This had better work. I hate pulling all-nighters like this…"

The door to Teruo's bedroom swung open with an abrupt click, and the resulting adrenaline rush swept away—briefly—the exhaustion that plagued his mind. With reflexes born from experience, Teruo quickly dashed his device under his desk and pulled over a bizarre open metal box with a spring hanging limply from its top.

"Teruo," Henry said upon seeing what the young boy was working on. "What are you up to now?"

Turning in his chair, Teruo grinned. "Just your guts to ask out Officer Jenny," he said slyly. "She's guaranteed to be sent to the scene since she has the most experience dealing with me you know…"

"Oh no," Henry said, shaking his head. Storming forward he snatched up the box with the spring from Teruo, who feigned being too sleep-addled to stop him.

"Hey!"

"Don't 'hey' me, mister," Henry scolded. "You're costing the department enough money as it is with your nonsense. If you keep it up it will only be a matter of time before they decide to do something about that brain of yours."

"Doubtful," Teruo grumbled, folding his arms over his chest. "We both know that my 'brain' is too valuable for your scientists to be cutting out."

"They won't 'cut'…"

"You say tomato, I say tomato." Teruo waved a dismissive hand at his guardian. "I'm just trying to do what's best for you."

"And I am trying to do what's best for you," Henry said sternly. "I can't do that if you keep causing trouble like this." Sighing, he brought up the box and looked at the wiring that lay within. "Looks like the research department is going to spend some sleepless nights trying to figure this one out. C'mon, Teruo. Get dressed."

Teruo sulked. "I don't want to go to the lab."

"I'm sure you don't," Henry nodded in understanding. "But you know the deal."

"Yeah, yeah." Getting up from his seat in resignation, Teruo went over to his dresser and started pulling out clothes without care for what he grabbed. Henry watched him for a moment before exiting the room.

"Breakfast's in ten," he said, shutting the door behind him.

Teruo made a noncommittal noise as the door clicked. Alone now, a wide grin broke across his face.

"Yeah, those lab guys are going to have quite a few sleepless nights all right," he muttered under his breath.

A part of him wanted to praise his perceived genius by using a decoy, though he knew that it had more to do with having long dealt with the habits of PlanPol's Research and Development Department. Anything he worked on was usually taken away for study and—if viewed as too dangerous—destroyed. His jet pack was one such device, and it was fortunate, if not miraculous due to the sheer scope of the project, that he had kept that one hidden all the way to completion.

I can't do it too often though, he mused, shrugging out of yesterday's shirt and pulling on a random, bright orange one. I can't afford to let them catch on to what I'm really working on.

As if on cue his computer screen lit up and a fox icon appeared.

Not cool, Kitsune, he thought, putting on his jeans before heading over to his computer. Tapping a button his computer took him immediately to his instant messenger.

Kitsune: Hello.

Teruo rolled his eyes.

Teruo: Dangerous screen saver you put on, man. What if Henry was in here? He only left a second ago.

Kitsune: My, my. Then it's a good thing I contacted you when I did. So…learn anything else?

Teruo pulled on his socks and glanced around for his shoes. He spied them under the bed and returned back to his keyboard.

Teruo: I'll tell you when I get back. Henry's taking me to the Institute today and he'll be mad if I'm holding things up.

He could almost hear the chuckle from the other end of the monitor.

Kitsune: All right. See you later.

With that, the instant messenger box vanished, causing Teruo to scowl to no end.

Really wish he wouldn't have that much control over my computer. I'll have to do something about that.

Kitsune's invasive attitude could wait though. He had other things to attend to. Snatching up his device from beneath his desk, he looked it over carefully before grabbing his screwdriver. Giving it one last twist, he snapped the lid shut and pocketed the device.

"All right," he said to himself. "Let's go."

Takato stared down at the small, pale pill in his hand, his face done up in a grimace. Sitting on the counter next to him was Jeri, watching him with her electric blue eye.

"You know you're going to have to take the pill sooner or later. All your actions are being logged you know."

Takato's grimace transformed into a scowl, one he directed at the Companion. "I know," he replied irritably. "Doesn't mean I have to like it," he added under his breath.

"I can hear that," Jeri said, causing the boy to jump.

Great. I can't even get away with that either!

"All right," he said, raising his hand to mouth level. "Down the hatch." Tossing back his head, he dumped the pill into his mouth. Grabbing the small glass of water on the counter he drank it down.

Swish, swish, and swallow.

"Blagh," Takato said, sticking out his tongue childishly. "Tastes awful."

"I don't know why," said Jeri. "Scientists have added artificial sweeteners to ensure that it tastes fine."

"Are scientists always right?"

"The current hypothesis is that there is a psychosomatic disorder with the heroi brain that is preventing it from recognizing the sweetener."

"Uh…" Takato reached for his toothbrush and cocked an eyebrow at the Companion. "So you're saying that I'm nuts?"

"Not at all," replied Jeri. "Just that you dislike the Paxio because of how you feel about it."

"I hate it so I hate how it tastes? That makes sense." Takato uncapped the toothpaste and squeezed it onto his brush, gratefully drowning out the bad taste of Paxio in a flurry of minty freshness.

Still, he couldn't help but admit that it was something to think about. Did thinking about something have that much effect over the world?

If that were the case, I'd have A's all the time in school and heroi wouldn't have to be treated like freaks. I'd be out there, being a hero, defending people and…huh?

Takato furrowed his brow when he found himself unable to let go of the toothpaste. His fingers refused to so much as budge from their grip, no matter how hard his finger-muscles pulled. Becoming suddenly worried, he glanced over at Jeri to see if she was watching.

"Um…so…uh…" His mind raced, trying to think of something—anything—to say that could possibly distract the machine. He was perhaps a little too young to realize that it wasn't a particularly easy task to distract something that was designed to pay attention to multiple things at once while running fifty calculations in its head.

"Don't worry, Takato," Jeri said in a calm tone. "Given the immature state of your F.S. Field, it's to be expected that there would be some flare-up as the Paxio takes effect. You should be able to release your fingers momentarily."

Sure enough, one by one, Takato's fingers uncurled from their grasp and the toothpaste bottle clattered on the counter. Breathing a heavy sigh, Takato clenched and unclenched his hand.

That…was something else, he thought quietly, trying to bury the amazement and regret—and the fear—over what he had just experienced. I could be something with this, he realized. He soon corrected himself. I could have been something. Now I'm going to be just like everyone else.

Looking up at the ceiling, closing his fist, he found that wasn't too sure if he liked the idea.

"Takato?" prompted Jeri. "Are you all right?"

"Huh?" Takato jolted back to reality and then clumsily jammed the toothbrush in his mouth.

"Yeah, I am," he said as he scrubbed furiously at his teeth, though thanks to the presence of the plastic object in his mouth it came out as garbled gibberish. Not that it mattered to Takato. He had an idea that Jeri understood what he was saying anyway.

She probably has an app for understanding toothbrush, he thought sarcastically. The thought made him laugh suddenly. Spitting into the sink, Takato turned on the water to wash it all out.

Jeri was concerned.

More than concerned. She was more accurately in the realm of artificial panic. She had simulations of emotions—to a degree so as to protect her owner from herself. Panic however was not one of those apps so the experience was rather new to her. The closest she could get to a description as far as human terms went was panic, but the reality involved more a conflict of emotional apps and what she presumed to be a glitch from whatever Takato had done yesterday that had damaged her.

It was his F.S. Field activating, I'm certain of it, she thought. She knew that it also had something to do with the electromagnetic disturbance from yesterday as well, but for her it was negligible due to the distance between herself and it. Yet somehow Takato was effected to a large degree that caused his F.S. Field to explode outward in a short burst. Resonance? she wondered. It was a possibility, but she didn't have enough information to properly formulate a hypothesis on the matter.

The damage she incurred though concerned her greatly. She knew that she absolutely had to report her findings and receive instruction, and yet something within her was preventing her from doing so. She couldn't even talk about it with Takato or even hint at it to her superiors. The best she could do was inform her superiors that 'all was well', even though things clearly weren't to her.

So she was panicking.

I wonder how much time I have before I suffer a system's failure from this unsolvable scenario? The idea left Jeri with a sense of failure and incompleteness. She supposed that she could compare it to depression. Her death appeared inevitable, and she hadn't been online for a very long time. In addition, and perhaps worst of all in regards to her programming, she was failing in her duties to Takato as well.

I have to do something, she thought. I have to fulfill my duty if nothing else. But…how?

She hoped that she had enough time to find a solution before she crashed.

Rika sat outside in the garden, reading her book while idly petting Guilmon from his spot next to her. The puppy was more than happy to lay there and be quiet, being content with the level of attention that he was receiving. She was grateful for his calm attitude, or more accurately his obedience when she told him to "be good" while she read. She had to admit that it was good to know that there was something she could control, or at least met her expectations.

As she turned the page, she glanced over at her cell phone from where it lay next to her. There was still no call yet, or a message.

As far as my mom is concerned he might as well not call, she thought remembering her conversation late last night. A boy who isn't allowed to take care of a pet is someone who might as well not be helping. Why else wouldn't he be trusted with such a responsibility?

She grimaced at the memory. She had to really swallow her pride to get her mother to agree to the deal.

The things I have to do… I really hope that kid is worth all this trouble. I don't want to have to go through all this just to find out that it's all for nothing. You better have known what you were doing, Shibumi.

As her free hand traced over Guilmon's fuzzy ear, her cell phone buzzed next to her. Taking a moment to bookmark her place, she snapped her book closed and quickly picked it up. She didn't recognize the number.

That's got to be him, she thought, hitting the reply button.

Rumiko watched her daughter from inside the house, worriedly drinking a cup of coffee.

From the look on your face I guess it's that boy calling you, she thought, seeing the girl's lips curl up in a smile. It's been a long time since I last saw you looking like that.

A touch of sadness pervaded her heart, and she took a moment to wallow in it before taking another sip from her coffee mug. Turning away from the window, she headed into the living room and came to a stop in front of a photo showing herself, Rika, and another girl, older than Rika, with cherry-blond hair and an amused, almost knowing look in her eyes. The corners of her lips were curved ever so slightly up so as to leave her smile almost invisible.

"They're both beautiful," came a familiar voice as a youthful young man appeared in the reflection in the photo. Gasping, Rumiko spun around, coffee dropping out of her hand and spilling onto the floor, staining the carpet. The youth smiled. "Hey Rumi."

"Wha…" Rumiko dropped her fists—she hadn't even realized that she had made her hands into fists—staring blankly at the youth. "R-Ryo?! What…how…?"

'"How are you?'" Ryo prompted with a grin and a sweeping bow. A stain of red colored Rumiko's face and she placed a hand on the wall to steady herself. This…this was too much of a shock for her.

"What are you doing here? Doing back?! You…Tartarus…!"

"All a long time ago," Ryo said, his face becoming melancholy. "I wanted to see you again, so…here I am."

"My…my daughter's outside," she stammered, trying to grasp the situation. "She can't…"

"She won't see me," Ryo replied, stepping over to the couch behind the coffee table. "Trust me on that." He grinned. "Although I shouldn't have to tell you about that. You already know me well enough for that…right?" He sat himself down and regarded Rumiko for a moment. "Time hasn't changed how you feel about me that much, has it?"

Rumiko frowned, finally starting to feel as though she were on comfortable ground again. Just like slipping on an old shoe…

"Still the playboy?"

Ryo shrugged. "I'm just saying hi," he grinned. "Can't an old friend do that? You know, I've got to say, I'm really liking how your being a heroi has treated you. You've aged well in…how long? I've lost track."

"A gentleman never asks a lady's age," Rumiko grumbled. She looked down at the mess on the floor. "That is going to stain…"

"Let me get that," Ryo said, raising a hand. A light glow surrounded his fingers before floating over to the coffee stain. The light hovered over the mess and as Rumiko watched it swept the area clean, as though there had never been a spill in the first place.

"I remember there was a reason why we kept you around," Rumiko smirked.

"I'm a little tired to remake your coffee," Ryo chuckled. "Sorry for barging in on you like this, but…I need a place to hold up for a few hours. I figured you'd still be living here so I thought I'd stop by."

"I thought you said you wanted to see me," Rumiko said pointedly, folding her arms beneath her breasts. Ryo smiled wanly.

"Sorry," was all that he managed. Rumiko sighed.

"All right. For old times, you can sleep in my bedroom. Rika never goes in there anyway."

Ryo's smile became teasing. "I thought it would take a little more effort to get you to invite me into there…"

"Don't push your luck. You're going to give me some information while you're here." Rumiko scowled and glanced out the window. "Look, we can't talk in here. Rika…"

The door from the kitchen opened, and Rika's voice could be heard echoing up from down the hall.

"Mom! Mom?!"

"Damn it," Rumiko swore. "One minute, Rika," she called out. "Ryo," she began, quickly turning back to the boy, only to find that he had disappeared. Huffing in annoyance, she turned to find her daughter standing in the entrance to the living room. "Ah!" Rumiko gasped in surprise. Composing herself, she brushed aside a lock of hair and forced a smile. "Yes, Rika, what is it?"

"The kid I told you about last night," Rika replied. "He just called. I'm going to meet up with him in the park to discuss the deal about our friend."

"Okay," Rumiko nodded fervently. "Have fun." She paused before adding, "Maybe you should bring him by. I would like to meet your 'business partner'."

Rika hesitated, but nodded. "I'll see if he can," she replied before turning and leaving the room. Rumiko sighed.

That was a close one, she thought. The last thing I need is for her to be asking all sorts of questions, and the wrong ones at that. If she found out about Ryo… She exited the living room and made her way to her bedroom. Opening the door she found exactly what she expected. The young man was sprawled on his side, fast asleep.

You didn't even bother taking off your favorite jacket, Rumiko noted, closing the door behind her. "What kind of trouble did you get into that's got you so tired?" she asked aloud, placing her hands on her hips. Not getting an answer—and not really expecting one—she set herself down on the bed next to him, running a gentle hand through the youth's hair. "A better question would be…what are you doing back?" Her expression hardened. "What is Tartarus doing back?"

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