Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.

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Chapter: 11

The elevator doors to the third floor of the PlanPol office building opened with a ding, and Henry and Teruo both stepped out. The green haired boy had a sullen look on his face as he took a look around him.

"I hate these carpets," he grumbled under his breath.

"So you've said for the hundredth time," Henry replied. He frowned at the boy. "And don't tell me…"

"Thirty-seven," Teruo interrupted. Henry sighed.

"Let's just get this over with, okay? The sooner the better, you know that." He thought for a moment before a small smile crept across his face. "If you behave yourself, I'll take you somewhere."

"You've already taken me somewhere." Teruo glanced up at him, his expression annoyed.

There's just no winning with this kid. "Somewhere you want to be."

"I don't go out," Teruo replied. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he turned and started to make his way down the hall. "Hey Jason," he greeted casually to a man passing by. Jason nodded in turn before raising an eyebrow at Henry.

"He's going ahead of you?" he asked, pointing at the boy questioningly. Henry resisted the urge to wince.

"He's just becoming a little too familiar with his way around this place," Henry replied, clapping his coworker on the shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll see him off and then get back to my cubical. Anything new to report?"

"Just that our department is getting a few new case files. PlanPol took a beating yesterday so we're getting pulled in all sorts of directions until the Guardian numbers are restored to optimal levels."

Great. One more pile of paperwork that I need to worry about…

"All right. Let the team leader know that I'll be in soon. Talk to you later."

"Right. Later."

With that, the two men parted ways and Henry strode after Teruo as he disappeared around a corner. For the briefest of moments, the young man felt as though his heart stopped in his chest at losing sight of him, but upon rounding the corner it quickly found reason to continue beating as he came across Teruo leaning against the wall, smirking.

"Don't break the rules, Henry."

"Clever," Henry said, taking the boy by the shoulder and leading him forward. "It's more you that should be observing them. When you're here, you stay within my sight, or those you're assigned to work with."

"Which you've said over and over…"

"I know." Henry smiled, deciding to indulge him this time. "How many times has it been?"

Teruo returned the smile. "Thirty-eight."

Behind the pair as they left the spot Teruo had been, a small, bronze-colored, circular device lifted itself up on needle thin legs. A red light lit up at its front and watched them go until they disappeared from view, and then it scrambled away.

…

"All right," said a technician as he applied a sensor to Teruo's forehead. "This won't hurt a bit."

"Normally people like you lie about that," Teruo replied jokingly. The technician smiled.

"Correction: doctor's lie about that. I work with machines."

"What's your point?" asked Teruo before continuing matter-of-factly. "Isn't my body a machine?"

"I'd ask the biologist," the technician quipped right back, "but ours is off today." He furrowed his brow thoughtfully for a second. "Hey, since you're so good with tech, wouldn't you be able to answer that question?"

"Uh…" Teruo hesitated, not sure how to respond to that. "Well…the guts I deal with are…metal-based. That's all my F.S. Field allows me to understand."

"Hmmm… Too bad. You'd probably make an excellent surgeon if it did." He stood back, nodding to himself. "All right. We're ready to get to work."

Teruo, dressed in nothing but a hospital gown, swung his legs up and lay himself down on the bed. No sooner did he do so did the bed jerk and begin drawing him into a small, tunnel-like device, whereupon it stopped. Teruo's fingers curled into his palm anxiously. He scanned the interior with his eyes, taking in every little detail. There were three frames dotted with slight bulges in their surface. Their proximity made him swallow.

It's just like being in a womb, he thought to himself, and as though the thought had been a signal, the tension in his body began to ease up, and his fingers relaxed.

"So, what are you going to do this time?" Teruo said aloud. "Beam images into my head?"

"That's the plan," said the technician from outside. Teruo could hear him moving around, pressing buttons. "Good to see that you knew that pretty quick."

"F.S. Field's cheat," Teruo remarked, shifting. "You had to have seen my report cards, right?"

"I'm not privy to that kind of information. Only your guardian and the higher ups have access to that."

"Right." Teruo shifted again. "Look, can we hurry this up?"

"Don't worry, kid. We'll get this wrapped up in no time, and then you can have all the ice cream in the world."

"Another doctor's lie," Teruo grumbled. "You sure you don't practice?"

"Pretty sure. I've got a degree that tells me so, and I spent a great deal of time practicing it. So…no. Pretty sure I didn't study medicine. Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"Okay. Here we go."

There was a wine of machinery powering up, and then the frames burst with sudden light, not intense enough to hurt him, but enough to make Teruo clench his eyes shut reflexively. As he did so, an image of a rocket filled his mind. The light flashed again, and there was a satellite. Again, and there was a computer. Again, and again, and again; more images, more pieces of technology.

"Okay, okay," he said hoarsely under his throat. "Cut it out. I'm starting to get a headache."

"Stopping program."

The bed withdrew from the tunnel, and Teruo sat up, nursing his forehead. The technician came over to him, a glass of water in his hand.

"Sorry about that. I thought we had adjusted the thing this time. How're you feeling?"

Teruo pointed at the hand on his head in response before accepting the glass of water. Briefly he wondered why people always offered water to someone whenever they had just been upset, but shrugged the thought aside and took a swallow anyway. He wasn't one to turn down free hospitality.

The info that I get out of this place had better be worth the pain of coming here, he thought.

…

"Would you look at that?"

Henry turned to his blond-haired coworker, Samantha Laurent and nodded before returning his attention to the computer screen.

"Teruo's F.S. Field definitely received the information broadcast to him."

"I know, but look here." Samantha reached out and tapped the screen where an image of a brain—Teruo's—stood out prominently. "This sort of activity we usually see when we're problem solving, particularly when a person is experiencing REM sleep. This is all Parietal Lobe action when we're dreaming, yet he's awake. He's not sleep walking or anything." Samantha looked at Henry with amusement. "He was awake when you brought him in, right?"

"I had to work to drag him out of bed, but he was awake," Henry replied. "It certainly says something though. When a person becomes a heros, the first signs involve dreams—usually extremely lucid ones."

"Sometimes the amount of lucidity determines what kind of Heros, or how strong, they become. Remember the Sleep Walker incident?"

"That was well before our time," Henry pointed out. "We missed it by a good fifty years."

"But it woke PlanPol up enough to get them to form this department. So here we are…learning about what makes heroi tick." Samantha tapped a finger against her lips, her eyes alight with excitement. "It's times like this that I wish the higher ups would let us into the archives. We could understand this so much better if we had access to all the research from the previous Ages. All the studies that were done on psychics…think of how that could help us!"

Henry shrugged nonchalantly. He wasn't entirely certain that the previous Ages had anything that could be safely learned from. Except maybe to learn not to do what they did back then, he mused.

"This is all very interesting, but we haven't yet picked out the mechanism that lets Teruo do what he does. Most people can't look at something and instantly know all there is to know about how it works and what it takes to build it."

"Maybe it's like one of those old ideas…you know, where the brain is only using ten percent of its ability to work."

Henry rolled his eyes. "That was long ago proven to be…be…"

"Bullshit?" Samantha smirked.

"Yes. Thank you."

"You're too much of a stickler, Henry. You need to lighten up; cut loose a little."

Here we go again… "Let's not get away from this. With Teruo we know that his power is based in the brain, particularly in how it processes information. But this isn't quite what the Parietal Lobe does. It's…it's mostly spatial recognition, isn't it?"

"People stop dreaming when they have damage to it." Samantha fixed Henry with a slight frown. "What did they teach you at university?"

"I was mostly studying child psychology." Which was why I hooked up with being Teruo's guardian. I didn't have a choice in the matter. "So what do you think?"

Samantha huffed and leaned back in her chair. "I wish I could really tell you. Sigmund Freud had a lot to say on the development of the heroi psyche, particularly in the area of dreams. Biologically speaking though, there may be some organ or connection in the brain that we just haven't mapped out yet. Who knows? It could be that Teruo's head is connected to the Internet and he's able to do a search for whatever he sees. That doesn't explain the how he does it, except for the F.S. Field, but it's not like we understand that any better." She tapped a finger on her forearm. "Not without peeking into what the archives have to say anyway…"

"I doubt that Teruo's head can somehow access the Internet," Henry said. "I've seen his grades."

"So have I," Samantha nodded. "Average intelligence. Intense dislike for mathematics. I don't know. Can simple intuition be a superpower?"

"He is an Alpha-3," Henry noted. "The landscape of the Alpha description usually means basic enhancements or nonfunctional mutations to the body. Like Yolei for instance…"

"God I love that purple hair," Samantha sighed, leaning into her hand dreamily. "How'd she get so lucky? All the guys rave about her."

"Uh…yeah. Sure."

"Except you, of course," Samantha pointed out. "You should rave about her too. Or is Teruo on the money with you wanting to get it on with a certain police officer?"

"Sam!" exclaimed Henry in surprise. Samantha chuckled.

"I see how it is. Yep. She's got you, hook, line, and sinker."

Henry rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get so much as a word out, the phone on the desk started ringing. Reaching over, he picked it up.

"Henry Wong, PlanPol Department of Heroi Control. How may I help you?"

"Do you have to make it sound like we're in customer services?" Samantha whispered, plainly annoyed. Henry ignored her.

"This is Doctor Yamamoto from Shinjuku General Hospital. I believe you called in regards to the case of Takato Matsuki…"

"Yes, I did," Henry said, leaning back in his chair. "Sorry for disturbing you, but I was wondering if you could provide me with some information…"

…

"Wow…" Takato breathed, in awe of the house that Rika had led him too. "This is where you live?"

Rika nodded, placing one hand on her hip while the other rested against her leg, as if it were missing the leash that was presently in her companion's grasp. The house in front of them was rather large, at least when compared to Takato's home. Although it was surrounded by a long stretch of brick wall and a black bar gate, it wasn't a mansion by any stretch of the imagination. It had room to spare though, having been built originally with a larger family in mind.

"Yeah, this is the place," Rika confirmed. "Home sweet home."

"What does your mom do for a living?" Takato asked, still caught up in his amazement. He blushed immediately and tightened his grip on Guilmon's leash. "I-I mean… I didn't mean to sound like…"

"Don't worry about it," Rika waved dismissively. "She does some fashion work. Mostly design. You probably never heard of her, but she sometimes goes by the name of Makino…"

"Oh." Takato's eyes perked up a little in recognition. "My mom's always reading magazines that has that name on the cover. So…uh…" Takato scratched his cheek, suddenly becoming embarrassed. "I'm…about to meet a celebrity…"

Inwardly Rika resisted the urge to sigh in exasperation. She never liked talking about her family to other people, and here was a reason why. It didn't take long before people started treating her, or worse, her mother, as though they were royalty.

"She's not a celebrity," Rika insisted, giving him a hard look. "She's…just a designer for clothes."

Takato raised an eyebrow.

"But she's well known, isn't she?"

I can tell we're going to get along just fine, Rika thought rather sourly. "Look, just don't do anything…strange when talking to her. She just wants to meet you since you're going to be chipping in for Guilmon." She wanted to grind her teeth in annoyance. For some reason she was just not fond of that name. Not at all.

"Okay," Takato replied, scratching the side of his head in confusion. For some reason Rika was getting a bit worked up about this.

She seemed okay when we were in the park and when we first met yesterday. I mean, sure, she didn't sound like she wanted to bring me here but… He let the thought trail off as Rika opened the gate and he followed her into the yard. Are we really going to be okay?

In all fairness, he knew that they hadn't known each other that long, but he couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious. The rather obvious display of wealth aside—at least in comparison to his family's financial lifestyle—Rika seemed to have a poise that made him rather worried and uncertain about what was appropriate to say or do around her. Of course, this was true with the vast majority of people Takato wasn't used to dealing with, so he couldn't help but wonder if that was just him being his usual self.

It's like walking through a minefield, and I'm the one who keeps setting them up.

As they approached the front door, Takato took a moment to admire the yard. It was well-made, complete with a bird bath, a small pond, and paths of stone with flowers, vibrant blues, reds, and yellows, stretching around the house. The place had a very…clean feeling to it that he could only describe as a breath of fresh air. He wasn't aware of the concept of feng shui—the right place—but if he had been this would be what he would see it as. Everything around him somehow managed to beat back the sense of uneasiness that he felt earlier.

Maybe…maybe we will be fine, he thought, waiting for Rika to unlock the door.

"I'm home," Rika called out, stepping inside. She glanced at Takato over her shoulder as he shuffled in behind her. "Take off your shoes. She doesn't like it when mud gets tracked in."

"Roger," Takato nodded, quickly kicking off said shoes. The sound of footsteps approaching caused him to turn his head in their direction, and within short order his gaze fell upon a youthful-looking woman with cherry-blond hair, violet eyes, and a smiling, graceful disposition.

"Welcome back Rika," the woman—Rumiko Nonaka—greeted. Turning to Takato, she tilted her head and her smile widened ever so slightly. "And welcome to our house. I take it that you're the young man my daughter has mentioned to me?"

"Ah…" Takato blushed lightly. "Maybe? I-I mean…if you're referring to the one that has to do with Guilmon…" He held up Guilmon's leash awkwardly. "I'm sure she has lots of guy friends and…and…" His blush deepened upon realization of how he was sounding and he hung his head in embarrassment. "…I'm being weird aren't I?"

Beside him, Rika sighed in exasperation. Rumiko simply chuckled before her daughter could admonish the boy.

"Not at all. You are most…" Without anyone noticing, her eyes flickered to the Companion module attached to Takato's belt. "…interesting." She turned to her daughter. "Rika, why don't you show him to the dining room. Would you two like something to drink?"

Rika hesitated but glanced over at Takato, who was fighting down his blush as best as he could while beside him, Guilmon hugged his leg.

Might as well make things less awkward… "Sure," she said finally, turning back to her mother, summoning as much respect as she could for the woman. "That'd be…great."

…

Rumiko pushed the first glass beneath the ice dispenser and watched it fill up before withdrawing it and repeating with the second glass.

So…he's a heros, she thought, thinking about the Companion module attached to the boy.

It wasn't often that her daughter associated with other people, and still less that she did so with any heroi. She was very particular about who she spent her time with, and heroi were…not popular in this day and age, and tended to be ostracized more than not, especially when they were unlucky enough to be caught and tagged with a Companion Module.

Thank goodness my daughter is an Inactive, she thought. Thank goodness for Spencer.

She stood in front of the fridge for a moment, memories washing over her. She gently caressed the sides of the glasses, thinking back to a time when things seemed so much…simpler. Not for the first time she wondered…what if?

If I had told him the truth…would he have stayed?

She sighed despondently and placed the glasses on the kitchen counter before pulling out the juice from the fridge.

I shouldn't be thinking of that sort of thing. All I have is the present, and my daughters.

…

"I'm really, really sorry…" Takato apologized.

Rika turned a flat, level stare at the boy. "For what?" she asked.

"For…um…" Takato scratched the back of his head, feeling unable to settle down beneath the girl's piercing stare. "…saying that you were…um…sounding as if you…" He floundered for something…anything…that sounded the least bit offensive as possible. He felt he was failing though, and he couldn't help but be mortified. "It's…it's just…my uncle…he always used to say bad stuff about…girls who…hung out with…lots of guys?" He practically squeaked this last out, and he fidgeted in his seat. Rika, for her part, had to resist a great deal the urge to roll her eyes at the sheer naivety of the boy in front of her.

If I didn't need to be on good terms with this kid so bad, I wouldn't even be bothering with him.

Still…she did need him, if only for the moment. Leaning forward, she forced a playful grin on her lips. "You really know how to make a first impression, don't you?"

Takato blushed and hung his head again. Rika felt a pang of pity.

Well…I guess his heart's in the right place, she thought, glancing at Guilmon from where he lay, his dark eyes darting back and forth between them. Even if his head isn't.

"Here you go," said Rumiko, coming in with their drinks. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"T-Thanks Mrs….uh…"

"It's just Miss," Rumiko replied, taking a seat and handing each of them their drinks. "And please, call me Rumiko. I prefer to be on a first name basis with people, especially those that I may be seeing more of." She threaded her hands together and brought her chin to rest on them. "So…Rika says that you want to help take care of… I'm sorry." She patted her head in embarrassment. "I'm afraid in all the excitement I never got the name for the dog."

"I call him Guilmon," Takato replied, and at once the animal brought his head up, tail thumping loudly against the floor. "It's a name for a superhero I made up as a kid. He was sort of a mixture between a dragon and a knight."

"So you're a story writer?" Rumiko asked, a bit interested.

Takato shook his head. "No. I'm…I'm just a kid."

"For now." Rumiko chuckled. "As honest an answer as any. What would you like to do with your life?"

"What does this have to do with the dog?" asked Rika, becoming a tad bit annoyed again.

"I just want to know a few things about your new friend," Rumiko said, frowning at her daughter. She returned her attention to Takato.

"Well…" he continued, taking a sip from his drink. It tasted good, and it soothed his nerves a little. "…I've…kind of thought about becoming a cop or something. Maybe work for PlanPol."

Across from him, without anyone noticing, Rika visibly flinched. Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and inside a small fire of anger awoke inside.

"That's not bad," Rumiko said politely. "You have a sense of justice." She cast Rika a quick glance, wondering what she thought of that, but the girl had already schooled her expression to neutral.

"It probably won't happen though," Takato sighed. Rumiko tsked at him.

"Now you shouldn't give up."

Takato clenched his teeth together, a part of him wanting to mention that he was now a heros, and that under law heroi were barred from working for PlanPol, or any other government agencies that dealt with law enforcement.

But if I say that, they might not want me to help out with Guilmon, and then I'll never get a chance to see him again. The comforting pressure of his side against his shoe made up his mind for him. "Yeah," he said, nodding and forcing on a smile. "You're right."

"That's good," Rumiko said, her own smile equally as false as Takato's. She was well aware of the details of the law, but for now didn't want to bring it up. "Now…next question."

Their talk lasted no more than an hour, but for Takato it felt even longer, mostly consisting of inquiries into his grades, how he was in school, and how he intended to help with payment for Guilmon's food. Eventually they settled on having him come over in the afternoon to help walk and feed Guilmon, or assist around the house for an hour or so—a limited part time job, Rumiko called it, though this last would be dependent on the permission of Takato's parents. After it was all said and done, it was time to go and soon enough Takato felt himself being escorted to the door.

"Well, Takato," Rumiko said, opening the door for him. "I hope to see more of you."

"Thanks," the boy replied, scratching the back of his head in the hopes that he wouldn't otherwise fidget. He was almost in the clear. "And don't worry. I'll be here to help out first thing tomorrow."

"Tomorrow afternoon," Rumiko corrected, but the ghost of a smile rose on her lips regardless. She found herself liking the boy, in spite of his awkwardness. "Three O'clock, sharp."

"Yes ma'am." Takato offered her a dopy salute. Behind Rumiko, Rika groaned inwardly at his antics.

"Can we stop it with this and just…go?" Rika asked. Stepping forward, she shoved her shoes on.

"You're going?" asked Takato in surprise, though his heart beat a little faster in excitement as that meant that she was undoubtedly bringing Guilmon along—a guess supported by Guilmon bounding after her with a happy yelp.

"Of course I'm going. We've still got the whole day." She cast a baleful look over her shoulder at her mother. "Unless you have something to say…"

Rumiko wrinkled her nose at the tone in her daughter's voice, but remembering that she had another situation to take care of in her bedroom she simply chuckled. "Just be in before curfew. Takato, I'm going to give your parents a call later today to finalize things."

Takato gulped and nodded. Looks like I'm going to be in for a grilling later… he thought despairingly.

"Well, I guess we'd better get goi—ow!" Takato clapped a hand around his wrist as he felt something shock him. Rumiko and Rika both raised an eyebrow at him.

"Is everything all right?" asked the older female. Takato gave a nervous laugh.

"Sure!" he said a little more loudly than he was certain was necessary. "Just a little static electricity. It's why my hair is always such a mess." He fingered the light-brown mop on his head that he called his hair for emphasis. "It's…dry air…"

"Right," Rika muttered, clipping the leash onto Guilmon. "Let's get going. I want to put some miles on this puppy already."

"You sound like my dad when he's talking about a car."

"Just get going…"

Rumiko waved at the pair as they exited the house, only for her face to become crestfallen once the door closed.

Takato, she thought, could be a problem. Is Rika going to be safe around him? She's an Inactive. If he triggers her…

She shook her head. That wasn't the only concern to have, but it stood out as the most immediate and prominent. Still, the boy had a Companion, so that meant he was being suppressed. The 'static shock' that he claimed to have had?

Rumiko made her way to her bedroom door and pushed it open, finding Ryo sitting up, looking bleary eyed.

"You need to be more careful with that field of yours," she berated. "Up and at 'em. It's time we chatted."

Ryo gave a small smile, one that to Rumiko looked haunted. "Yeah," he said. "I guess we do need to talk. But…not now."

"What…?"

"I've got to go. Thanks for the rest Rumi. I'll be back."

With that said, the boy winked out of existence, causing Rumiko's eyes to fly wide open, anger flashing throughout her body.

"Damn it Ryo!" she shouted angrily. Gripping the sides of her head, she fought to calm herself. "You always do this…" she hissed under her breath.

…

Ryo materialized into existence atop a building and took a look around him. Sunlight shone upon the hard concrete ledge and he brought himself to rest upon it, warming his arms. A gust of wind blew over him, and he closed his eyes, losing himself in its quiet tone.

No sooner did he do so did a dark circle surrounded by glowing white light flash across his vision, causing him to jerk away from the ledge in surprise.

"Fuck…" he whispered, touching the side of his face. His hand was trembling. "They've got me. They've really got me this time."

Air shimmered in front of him and a vague humanoid figure began to take shape.

"Did you really think that we wouldn't find you?" a deep voice spoke to him from the shape. "You are a part of us…a so very important part of us." The voice changed as it spoke, taking on the sound of a crowd; many voices blending together. Here and there Ryo could hear some that were distinct, but they all spoke as though they were one mind. "We will have you back." The shape stepped forward, and a fog began to materialize around it. It raised a distorted hand, pointing it at Ryo.

"Not today," Ryo replied, raising his own hand to greet it. There was a spark of energy at his fingertips and the shape hesitated. "Not ever if I can help it."

His fingertips sparked again, and a burst of energy shot forward.

9