THE LIGHTHOUSE

Disclaimer: I do not own Digimon and I am not making money off this fanfic. I do not own/make money off of any companies/music/shows/etc I mention (such as Dragon Ball Z, the theme songs, Dasani water, Batman/Superman, et cetera). The definition of "mimicry" came from Merriam Webster Online. No infringement intended. Feedback is wanted and highly encouraged. Author's Notes are almost always at the end of each chapter. Thank you.
Story Themes: "When The Stars Go Blue" by Tyler Hilton and Bethany Joy Lenz

The Lighthouse: Love For A Fool

"Where do you go when you're lonely?
Where do you go when you're blue?
Where do you go when you're lonely?
I'll follow you
when the stars go blue."
—When The Stars Go Blue by Tyler Hilton and Bethany Joy Lenz

Prologue's Epilogue Part IV
...The Heirloom and The Bee...

Three months.

On this day, they were at the halfway point toward a war that would envelop their lives whole. Whether or not this was a good thing or a bad thing, not many knew; however, most knew that whatever happened would be a hell of a story to one day tell the future generations. Anything less was a laughable theory, a jest, a hope – a desire that maybe the Endless Ones weren't as threatening as Davis and Kari made them out to be.

But, in their hearts, they all knew the answer.

During the past three months, Cody and Ken took to opening a Training Center for future Chosen (sadly enough, even to this day, some people on Earth didn't have a partner; though not everyone was a Destined, most people at least had a partner, a friend, someone they could rely on—some got their partner since the day they were born, others gained partners later on in life, some even gained partners the day they died – early birds and late bloomers came together and trained under Cody Hida and Ken Ichijouji to gain strength, some of who were not even Chosen).

Cody took hold of the kendo and meditation sector of the Center, specializing in the balance of body and mind. Ken was at the head of judo and chess, even managing to train Izzy in the art of Shogi (or Japanese Chess). It took Izzy a long time to get ahold of it, but before long (especially with Gennai's own help), he was able to beat even Ken, which was quite a feat no one but Ken expected – not Izzy, who was a sucker for probability mathematics.

"Aha! Checkmate!" Izzy declared excitedly. Normally he didn't get so into board games (though computer games were a completely different animal), but this time, he crossed his arms smugly over his chest and looked proudly over the King Piece as it was swept off its black square. "That's my third in a row. You're not going soft on me, are you?"

Many of Ken's surrounding students ooo'ed and awww'ed at the two boys, much to Ken's chagrin and Izzy's pride. Nonetheless, Ken sighed and folded his own arms, wishing he wasn't surprised Izzy would reach above and beyond him.

"Nice job, Izzy," Ken said through a grin. "I wish I could say I was going soft, but I was actually trying that round."

While Ken often did not act as smart as he was as the Digital Emperor, when he desired to reach into the confinements of that knowledge, he was able to grasp it easily between his palms and hold it to his psyche. Ken was a genius without wanting to be a genius, a brain without exercise, a mathematician and an artist. All the same, both he and Izzy were on very similar grounds when it came to intellectual suits. Admittedly, even when Ken dug into his smarter persona, Izzy could still run circles around him when it came to technology and scientific pursuits. With mathematics, they were pretty even. Luckily, Ken still had history and Japanese/English in the bag, even if Joe rivaled with him in those subjects (then again, Joe rivaled with everyone for every subject – he was such an obsessive compulsive studier).

"Well, I learn fast," Izzy said with a pleasant smile. "So, I guess I have to begin judo now?"

Izzy looked a little green.

The funny thing about it was also the fact that while Izzy could run circles around Ken for technology and science, Ken could literally run circles around Izzy without Izzy even lifting a finger. Izzy was just an intellectual, not a fighter, not a sportsman, just a thinker. Luckily, he knew how to use his brains to create tactics, which would help him greatly not only in judo but especially in kendo.

"Don't worry about it," Ken reassured him. He knew Izzy wasn't looking forward to getting some muscle. Ken thought about it for a few seconds – what exactly would be a good motivation for Izzy, anyway? With chess, it was getting the upper-hand over Ken, whom Izzy had always admired (even as an upperclassman) for his great adaptability and knowledge. But now, they were dealing with Izzy's greatest weakness. Well... Ken leaned forward, knowing the trick. Hopefully it would work, though Izzy was a bit stiff about the subject. "I hear Momoe and Mimi go for the muscle-type, eh, eh?"

Izzy frowned, then reddened slightly.

"Ken, I never really pictured you saying something like that. And besides, how would you know that?" Izzy said. He then paused, glanced nearby where he saw Yolei, then looked back at Ken who smiled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. Izzy grinned slyly and narrowed his eyes. "Ah, because Yolei hangs with Mimi, and Momoe is Yolei's sister, so therefore—"

"Actually, Izzy, I was thinking it would motivate you, and it's really not that hard to figure out their type," Ken interrupted. Izzy had a knack for misunderstanding human emotion sometimes, which was a funny quirk Ken examined about the computer-obsessive guy. Ken loved to examine personality and ego, psychology and human reaction. It was a subject that highly interested him, and it was greatly effective in the battlefield. "Yolei doesn't really talk about her sister. And besides, you always blush around Momoe. Wasn't she the one you wrote a love letter to?"

Izzy's ears turned slightly pink, causing the younger boy's lips to curl upward just a bit.

"Hey, everyone hounded me enough about that letter and I'm not going to divulge who it was addressed to," Izzy grumbled. Ken smiled with amusement. Divulge, long-winded sentence structure; this guy really is Izumi Koushiro, Ken thought behind his curled lips. Izzy's half-hearted glare melted slightly as he turned back in the direction of Momoe and Mimi, whom hadn't glanced in their direction once since beginning their judo training. He folded his arms, sighed, and finally replied, "Well, I suppose as the wielder of Knowledge, it's in my best interest to gain wisdom in all subjects, even if one of those subjects isn't my strong point... Besides—" He reddened slightly. "—They do tend to date more surfers than intellectuals. BUT, I am NOT doing this to be attractive. I am doing this because I want to gain a better grasp of martial arts, and to improve my and Tentomon's fighting style. Right, Tentomon?"

"Aye, aye, cap'n!" Tentomon spouted, holding one of his spindly legs up to his forehead in a salute.

"Thataboys," Ken grinned. He chuckled lightly, glancing nearby toward Yolei as the girl walked toward the kendo half of the center. As she walked past, they caught each other's eye – their look seemed to last longer than a glance, though shorter than a gaze. Her steps slowed, her hair fluttered in the wind, her rosy lips quirked into a smile.

It was almost like she was walking in slow mo, each flounce emphasized, each portion of her body exaggerated, each toss of her hair a whiff of Herbal Essence shampoo and Love Potion perfume. Ken gulped, only for her to disappear behind a corner, and for a large breath to exhale from his lungs.

Wow, he so did not expect that.

"Hey, you," Izzy called over to him, giving him a suspicious sly look. "Who are you gonna be, Yoda or Dr. Love? I have prophecies to decode at home, let's get this judo thing over with. You can talk to Yolei later."

"Ah, yeah, of course," Ken tensed.

Her lips... her laugh... her skin...

A second later and Ken got a flash of the nightmare he'd had three months ago, just after the Battle for Odaiba. He instantly winced, one palm smacking his forehead as his teeth clenched. Izzy blinked questioningly, but Ken swiftly shook his head as if to signal that he was okay before putting on his equipment to get ready for training.

How could he do that to her, even in a dream? How could he do that to Davis? How could he do that to anyone?

Wormmon wasn't as willing as Izzy to let it go, though. He scrutinized Ken for the rest of the day, asking him if he was alright, if he'd had another bad dream. When Ken told him no, Wormmon continued to always be at his side, no matter what.

Ken was grateful.

He couldn't ask for a better partner.

.---.

Meanwhile, Cody was teaching kendo in the other half of the Training Center. The room was well-lit by glowing orb lights, the walls decorated with sliding doors and portraits of great kendo masters of the past. During break, he looked over each picture, ending with the portrayal of Hiroki Hida.

"Who you lookin' at?" said a small voice next to him. Cody looked over and was surprised to see it had come from someone older than himself, a girl who was even older than his best friend, Yolei. She shared Yolei's eyesight to the point of wearing square purple-rim glasses. She had short reddish hair that hung around her head in a small bob, just two inches short of touching her shoulders.

He was even more surprised to realize that the woman was Yolei's sister, Chizuru.

"Oh, my dad," he said with a warm smile, glancing back at the portrait of his father in his mid-twenties, standing out in the midst of a great battle. The portrait of Hiroki Hida portrayed him as a strong burly man, stooped over as his large foot rested against a large boulder. His right arm was raised toward the heavens, index finger pointing at the clouds as his body was thrust into destiny and an open-mouthed grin. That had never happened to Hiroki Hida, of course, but someone drew it because people said Hiroki Hida reminded them of the great warriors of old, the kind who died doing what they believed in. Cody's grip tightened on the sword his grandfather had left him, a sword last wielded by his father. It was true that Grandpa Chikara had never used the sword after his son died; he'd given it to his son, he wouldn't take it back until it was time to pass it down once more, be it to his grandson or to a more worthy heir. "It's been years since he died, but I still remember how happy he always was."

Three months had passed since the death of Cody's grandfather. It was harder than ever, especially because Grandpa was the last man he knew who had become like a father to Cody after his own father left. Chikara taught Cody how to be a man, how to live his life not only as a good man, but as a great human being. Cody smiled half-wryly, a part of him wishing so deeply to be able to turn back the wheels of time and stop MetalSeadramon's attack from hitting his grandfather.

"I'm sorry about your dad—and your grandfather," Chizuru said. Cody blinked at her, then softly smiled in his own simple way, knowing his grandfather wouldn't want him to be sad. In fact, ole Gramps Chikara wouldn't want him to turn back the wheels of time either, because he went by the belief that everything happened for a reason. Cody lost his father which would set his path onto becoming a Destined, Cody lost his grandfather and leaped into becoming the man his father and grandfather knew he would become.

"Thank you," he said. "I appreciate it."

Chizuru giggled happily. They remained silent for a few seconds, just staring at Papa Hida's portrait. It was only when break was almost up that Chizuru mustered the courage to tap the hilt of shining Dynasty Blade, which glinted in the sunlight. Cody immediately ripped it from her hand almost unconsciously, causing her to jump slightly before Cody gave her an apologizing wince.

"Ah, sorry, I just—" He smiled nervously. "It's a habit I've developed, to protect it."

"It's okay," Chizuru laughed. She blinked and peered closer to it, just enough so that he wouldn't feel threatened by her presence. Not that he could ever be threatened too much by Chizuru, even if she (like her younger sister) was a strong woman – he just didn't think her the type to suddenly attack him unless she had to. Armadillomon gave him an odd look, as if wondering why he was allowing Chizuru to get so close to the sword. Cody didn't mind much. "Do people really try stealing it that often?"

"Yeah," Cody said sadly. "It's a famous sword, people could make a lot of money selling it. But I don't want it for profit. My grandfather gave me this under the belief that I would take care of it, that maybe I could use it to do some good. Ever since I began practicing kendo, I've always wondered what it would be like using it. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to master my strokes yet, but... I'm close to accomplishing what my grandfather dreamed I would."

"Hehe, I could help you master your strokes. Anytime, anywhere, Hida."

"Really? You know how to use stro—"

He was interrupted by her loud giggling. Almost instantly, the 14-year-old Cody half-gawked and half-facepalmed, red ebbing in his cheeks as he raised both eyebrows. He really hadn't expected that; Chizuru was usually the quiet one of the Inoue family. Between Momoe's obnoxious antics with Mimi and Jun, Mantarou's flirtation with a million women per week, and Yolei's aggressive behavior, Chizuru was a walk in the park. Well, sometimes, anyway.

She was the last Inoue sibling Cody expected to make sex jokes.

"Um, uh—" He struggled with a response.

Chizuru giggled again and tapped the hilt of the sword one more time, then slowly brought her fingertip from the sword to lightly press it against his chest. When he tilted backwards just enough to realize she was brushing against him, she leaned in to peck him on the cheek. "Well, you grew up well, Cody Hida. If you need help with that sword, don't hesitate to ring me up. I've known you for years now, shy one. Break your shell a little, yes?"

Bringing that same hand to her right side, Chizuru winked, turned, and Beyounce-walked away with hips swaying and hair whipping past her face. Cody watched with wide eyes, blood swiftly traveling to his face and ears as heat flooded into his veins. Almost immediately, he twirled around to look back at his dad's picture and grab his forehead, a small disbelieving laugh escaping him.

"Ahaha," he whispered. "Um."

He didn't know what else to say, other than to laugh incredulously. It wasn't until Chizuru had disappeared into the girl's bathroom that Cody finally gained the courage to look away from the portrait and instead to the sword still clinging to his side. He watched it stiffly tinker against his kendo equipment, as if alive enough to hunger for battle.

Cody smiled lightly.

This blade...he thought. Without a doubt, it's my most precious possession. With this, I am a man.

He refused to sink into a dirty mind.

I must clear those thoughts away now, he urged himself. I have a class to teach.

But it was really hard to disperse that image in his mind, and there was a part of himself that really didn't want to. He clenched his fists together and looked at the portrait next to his father, this one of his grandfather whose eyes stared long and hard and firmly into those who stared back. Cody's eyes glimmered determinedly.

This is a test of my concentration! he thought. I will work hard to dispel these thoughts, Grandfather! Just you watch!

Little did Cody know that somewhere, Gramps was chuckling at his grandson's fortune and wishing he'd hurry up and live a little. Though, he had to admire Cody's resilience. Chikara wouldn't have had much luck suppressing Chizuru – much less could a teenaged boy like Cody.

Good luck, the portrait seemed to tell Cody, who sighed as he realized he was swiftly failing at what he thought was a test of inner-strength.

.---.

Dear B,

I know I'll probably never send this letter. My hands are shaking I'm so scared, and I want to tell you how much I care about you and how much I miss you, but I know that no matter how much I want to tell you, I'll never find you. This letter will just get sent back, and I'll feel worse than I did when I mailed it... But they say that writing a letter, even one you'll never send, sometimes makes you feel better. So here I go.

I love you.

Sora's breath caught in her throat. It seemed odd that only moments ago, she was downstairs tucking a cover over Matt. He'd had a hard day, between a concert where his teeth got stuck in the guitar strings and badly broken equipment from when the drummer drummed a wee bit too hard. The fans went home disgruntled, disappointed, and demanding refunds, except Jun who thought being the only groupie left would give her an automatic backstage pass.

When Sora helped him back to her mother's apartment, he was having troubles keeping his head up or his eyes open. Thus, she helped him onto the couch and told him to take a nap, that she'd be there when he woke up, that she wouldn't leave him alone despite his desire to stay awake for her. In the mean time, she'd snuck up to her mother's attic to retrieve some old 60's rock she knew Matt would like, hoping it'd raise his dampened spirits. While searching through Led Zeppelin and Ozzy Osbourn, she came across a box about half her height and twice her width filled with white rectangles.

Instead, she'd pulled out a box filled with letters from 1987. They were all addressed to the same person—"B"—who Sora didn't recognize. Who was B? Her father certainly wasn't named B or even had a nickname that came close to "B". Haruhiko, her papa-bear, had been her mother's high school sweetheart. They'd gotten engaged in college and had Sora within a year of their graduation from the same university, a fairytale romance that Sora always admired, even if her father was distant from them now.

Yet, here she was, reading unsent letters in her mother's handwriting, proclaiming her love for a man whom was definitely not her father.

Despite something deep inside her chest telling her that this wasn't any of her business and she should put down the box before she found out something she would've rather not, she kept reading. Her eyes flounced from one edge of the page to the next, tabbing each pinch of information, each nook of her mother's cursive, every word muttered within the endless depths of her mind.

Sometimes, I still think about when I first saw you. It was noon, but the beach and the glittering waves all paled in comparison to the beauty you held. I remember thinking, "Look at that. A man with moonlight skin, and even lighter hair." I ran over to your side; you looked shipwrecked, with your wet hair slung over your shoulders, and your body slumped over in the beach, clothes raggedy and torn. I gave you CPR until I saw your eyes open.

They were dark, eerie, but there was something in them – something that got me lost.

Her mother always had a thing for theatrics.

When I asked your name, you didn't respond. You only said to call you B, and though you were always odd, I liked the sound of it. It fit you. Despite sheltering you until you were strong again, despite listening to your screams when you slept, despite wondering every single day if you'd wake up and leave forever, you told me that we couldn't be together, that you weren't meant to stay here, that there was a whole other place waiting for your return. Even so, I wanted to be with you, I wanted to hold you, I wanted to leave my world behind for the world you knew.

What is your world?

At this, Sora paused. A whole other world? Could B have spoken to Sora's mother about the Digital World? No, no one knew about the Digital World back then. He could've talked to her about a metaphorical world – a world he wanted Earth to become, a vision of a better place. Couldn't he talk about that? Did it have to be the Digital World?

But Tai, Sora, Matt, Mimi, Joe, Izzy, TK, and Kari weren't the first humans to travel to the Digital World. Before them came five others, five who fought the bristling waves, who conquered evils, who sealed the darkness of Apocalymon and death, who battled with the powers of the corruptible; against things the other later twelve Destined couldn't comprehend. The first five fought the first true evil of the Digital World, and it was by their legacy Sora's crew had to hold above their heads, the shadow they had to walk out from behind, the weight they carried with them every day.

Could B have been one of those five Destined?

There was something different about you. Something almost unearthly. Something that filled me with peace, like as long as you were around, nothing could harm me. I wanted to leave behind the life I'd grown to love, I wanted to leave behind the man I'd promised to marry, I wanted to leave behind my family, if only it meant staying with you.

Even if you didn't love me back, I wanted to follow you.

Sora's chest clutched.

She wanted to leave Dad? she thought, her brow furrowing as she continued reading. She read through the rest of the letter, then tossed it aside before digging deeper into the box and picking up another one. She peeled back the envelop and tried to stop herself from trembling with anger.

"I'm going back to the heavens." It was the last thing you said to me before you disappeared. You grabbed my hand and kissed my forehead, you held me tightly and whispered something in a language I didn't understand. I wish I did. I wish I'd known more about you. I wish I'd had the time to know you more, to at least find your real name.

The heavens... What could you have meant by that? Sometimes you'd talk about people who were after you, hoping to hurt you; that they were the reason you ended up on the beach, because they were trying to kill you. That soon, they'd see you enjoying life and would try to destroy you again, because you didn't deserve happiness. If I didn't leave you, they would make my life terrible as well, and all hell would break loose. But you do deserve happiness! You deserve to enjoy life, to feel as safe with me as I do with you! Even if they made my life hell... I would be happy... because I had you!

That was something she had in common with her mom. Many times, Sora thought back to Biyomon. Though she wasn't romantically interested in the little pink birdie, whenever Biyomon was around, Sora felt like the world could melt away and she'd still be safely hidden in the wings of her partner. There was never a moment where Sora denied Biyomon's sanctum, never a moment where she felt Biyomon failed her, never a moment where Biyomon's comfort didn't succeed to fill Sora with some sort of peace.

Sometimes, Sora hoped that a guy would make her feel that way. Sometimes, Matt or Tai were able to fill that void, but in the end, the only one who could make Sora feel safe was either Biyomon or herself. She would do anything to protect Biyomon and vice versa, and that alone was enough to warm her in even the coldest of days.

She moved on to the next letter, this one pondering B's last words to Sora's mother.

Is that why you returned to the heavens? Because they were after you? And by heavens, did you mean die, or maybe that you really went back to the world you talked about so often? I always thought you'd meant a place, a world you wanted to be in, a situation you wanted to see. In truth, when I met you, you showed me that peaceful world in my heart.

That is why I will name her Sora, which means "sky". She'll become my heavens, my peaceful place, my world that I venture toward when chaos catches me.

Sora's heart thumped.

This letter... these events... the man or creature her mother met on the beach, who she saved the life of, was he her real father? Did that mean Haruhiko was only her step-father? No. Her mother would've told her if Haruhiko wasn't her real father.

But he's never around, she thought to herself, biting down on her bottom lip as she worriedly placed the letters back in the box. He's always off working, and when he comes back home, I never see him hug or kiss Mom. He'll smile and say hello, he'll play boardgames or act like my father, but that's only when he's around. Mom says he's just a regular workaholic, but could it be more? Maybe he knows about Mom's affair, that I'm not his kid. Maybe that's why he's always away, because he doesn't want to deal with the past. That my mom is still in love with... with B.

And the biggest question that remained in Sora's heart, a question she wasn't sure if she was just overemphasizing or if she had a right to be suspicious, was if this man was a Destined. What if he'd come from the Digital World, one of the first five? Or could he have actually been a digimon? There were many humanlike digimon in the Digital World, like Angemon or Myotismon, who looked like men and walked like men but were mon. Did they have the anatomy to mate with humans, and if they did, how exactly would the combination of digital and reality work out?

You're probably making a big deal out of nothing, she thought. Mom was still together with Dad when she wrote these letters. Maybe she fell in love with this guy, but she's always been in love with Dad. I know Mom and Dad, and I know there's no possible way this B guy could be my dad.

Right?

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Author's Note: Updated Love For A Fool's soundtrack on my profile. Enjoy!