DISCLAIMER: I don't own Digimon. STUPID DISCLAIMER! WAY TO GO, YOU'VE RUINED THE WHOLE FIC! NOW I HAVE TO TYPE THE WHOLE CHAPTER WITH A STUPID DISCLAIMER AT THE TOP! WHAT A WORLD . . . what a world . . .

Previously, on Digimon Genesis, Shun was caught "robbing" a house by a babysitter! Looks like the party's over! But instead of giving himself and his friends away, Shun lied and said that he had been looking for drugs. Uh-oh! Now he's going to juvenile hall, and Takumi feels it's all his fault. Things get worse the next morning - but not before he has another dream of the strange people that chose him to become a Digimon - it turns out that some people saw him flying as Hiamon! Now he's in trouble! With the whole town on the lookout for "dragons" and everyone talking over the punishment of Shun, it's going to be hard to get back to regular life on the next Digimon Genesis!

DIGIMON GENESIS
CHAPTER XI
ONE CHOICE


Takumi woke up from the strange dream he had experienced that night. There had been those people - the ones that had chose him to become a Digimon, in it - and now he knew one of their names - two, actually, he thought later - "Stone" and "Search". He rubbed his eyes. Another normal day for Takumi Hito, age twelve, seventh grader of East Yokohama Middle School.

After putting on a filthy old pair of jeans with too many holes and a shirt slightly too small for him, he arrived downstairs and took an apple from the fruit basket. He munched into it, looking at his mother, who was viewing the news on television. "What's up, Mom?" he said through a piece of dirty apple in his mouth. "Anything on the news?" He had grown used to this method of going downstairs and eating breakfast like a normal kid - he would have to, in order to fool his mother, who appeared to be getting more suspicious of his behavior everyday.

"Oh, nothing," was the reply from Mrs. Hito, who didn't even look up. "Just some kid got arrested yesterday - no wait" (Takumi almost choked on his apple) - "Saturday. Very late on Saturday, too."

He coughed up the apple and spit it in the sink, then turned to his mother, and said, as those interested:

"What was he arrested for?"

"Oh, you know what kids are arrested for nowadays. Drugs. Can't get enough of it. I just hope you never ever take drugs, Takumi."

He tried to change the subject, the matter of discussing the arrest of a close friend did not appeal to him. "Did you ever take drugs, Mom?"

Takumi never really took the time to know his mother well, she was usually at work. This did not mind him. He preferred to be alone - most of the time.

"Actually - I did," was the nervous reply. "I used to smoke a lot." She must have noticed Takumi's surprised face, for she then added brightly:
"But I stopped when I met your father."

"Why?"

"He was always such an expert on health," she said
dreamily. "I stopped smoking when I learned what would happen to my lungs if I continued."

Takumi did not say anything in response to this, he had learned over the years that he should not interrupt when she was speaking of his dead father.

"And guess what? Now I feel just as good without a cigarette. I'm just sorry I didn't stop sooner. In high school, I should've gotten a counselor or something . . ."

Takumi's instincts turned on. "I'm seeing a counselor now," he said, and the second after he finished saying it, he regretted that he had.

"Are you?" asked Mrs. Hito, seeming pleased. "When I was your age, I had a counselor too. His name was - I think it was Mr. Saga. Yes, that's right. So -" It was one of the long "so"s where a person was about to ask you a question. "Is he nice?"

"Yes, very," was the reply, as Takumi noticed that there was a seed in his mouth. After he had wrenched it out, he added: "He broke his leg on Friday."

"Did he? That's too bad. Will he see you today?"
"Miss Andrews said that I would. She also said that if the conferences went well, I'd be able to make up a test that I - got a bad grade on."

"Well, that's very nice. Oh - look at the time!" she stammered, checking her watch, which she often neglected to look at. "I must be going to work now. I'll be home around seven. Alright, Takumi?"

Her son nodded as she headed out the door.

Takumi finished munching on the apple until a tiny core was all that remained. He threw it away in the trash, then put some books that he had done for homework into his large book bag. He threw the pack over his shoulder, then hastened out the door as his mother had done.

He walked to the bus stop, which was a considerable distance from his home. He expected to be greeted by the normal End-of-Weekend cheer of the other students at the stop, but instead found them happily gossiping over the arrest of Shun.

"I always knew that he was going to get it, one day," he heard a sandy-haired boy say to several of his friends.

"He deserved it," agreed another.

"I always knew something was wrong with him." The voice was familiar. It was Ryota. Takumi was so angry he could have transformed on the spot.

How dare Ryota talk like that, he thought, after pressing a button on his D-Monster device to make sure that he wouldn't transform. Takumi knew that Ryota often made fun of Shun, but nonetheless, Ryota had to feel bad about him. If he had any common sense, Takumi thought, gritting his teeth and absent-mindedly making a fist at Ryota, he'd tell everyone that Shun was kind - not the idiot that most people think he is.

"Poor, poor F-boy," he heard Ryota saying, "If only he knew better. But who can blame him? It's not like it's entirely his fault -" he paused in order to allow the group around him to laugh - "I mean, a mentally retarded person can't be expected -"

"STOP IT!" Takumi shouted. He couldn't help it. His mind was on setting things straight with the rest of the students. He didn't want to tell them what really happened - but he was going to tell them that Shun Oshiro was not the jerk that people imagined he was. Ryota's friends raised their eyebrows at Takumi's shout. It was odd, if you were a member of the group at the bus stop, you would have thought that Takumi had popped up from the ground.

"Stop what?" Ryota asked.

"As if you don't know!" he shouted back. "I want you to stop badmouthing Shun!"

"What's wrong, Takumi?" Ryota said coolly, and he realized that it made Ryota look much better when he spoke in an almost whisper voice. "Never knew you'd stick up for F-boy. But I shouldn't be surprised -" he paused again as his friends snorted, - "I hear you don't get very good grades yourself. Birds of a feather . . ."

At this, the whole bus stop laughed. Takumi didn't care if he were against twelve other students, and he was alone - he was going to prove his point, no matter how much comebacks Ryota made.

"Listen!" he roared. "Just because you never knew Shun -"

At that moment, the sound of a large bus was heard. It came down the street, creaking and crashing its way to the stop.

"You're in luck, Takumi," Ryota said quietly, "The school bus is coming today. I'm so happy - now you can receive a proper education." His chums howled with laughter. Takumi saw Ryota smirk at him before he climbed up the steps on the bus. Takumi was the last to enter.

"Hurry up!" demanded the old bus driver, and because of this he felt the sudden urge to knock the old coot out with his book bag. He eventually found his seat near the back of the bus, where hardly anyone sat. He sat his bag beside him and stared at the numerous signs on the bus. One of them was a 'BUS RULES' sign, complete with over ten rules, including:

1. No gum
2. No swearing
3. No kissing
4. No singing
5. No shouting
6. No fighting
7. No sleeping
8. No eating
9. No drinking
10. Two to a seat
11. No spitting
12. Obey the rules

Takumi sighed and closed his eyes as he lay his head back on his seat. He had a headache. How he wished he could just skip school today and fall asleep in his bed . . . he didn't care if he had dreams of those stupid people who turned him into a Digimon. He wanted to get away from the world . . . he wanted to fall in a deep sleep and never wake up in the merciless world of humans.

He opened his eyes slightly as a voice shouted in his ears:
"HEY! You lad! Read the rules! NO SLEEPING!"

Takumi stirred, then realized they had arrived at East Yokohama Middle School. He picked up his bag and left the dark bus, and filed out with the rest of it's occupants.

The whole school seemed to be engaged over the discussion of the "robbery" that former student Shun Oshiro committed. He ignored all the talk and made his way to the unorganized classroom of Miss Andrews. She was talking with Mr. Akimoto, the gym instructor. He caught some of their words:

"Isn't it dreadful, Satoshi, about that Oshiro boy? I wish we could have brought him up better, you know . . . not that you didn't help, of course, it's just . . ." Miss Andrews was talking.

"He was always a quiet sort of boy. Never gave him a second thought though . . ."

"Satoshi, didn't he ever have counseling?"

"As a matter of fact, he did. I know that Flint tried hard with him, but that type . . ." Suddenly, their words were hushed, but Takumi could still catch them.

"Satoshi . . . we have one . . . and it's like . . . like he's a second Oshiro . . ."

"You mean, Miss Andrews, the boy that Flint's working on right now?"

"Yes - Takumi Hito."

Takumi suddenly wished he had not listened in on their conversation.

"Do - do you think, Miss Andrews, that Flint will be able to do anything about him? Now that you mention it . . ."

"I know. They seem like the exact same type. Very quiet . . . other interests . . ."

"Well, I'm sure that Flint will be able to work him out. I saw him last night, and, mind you, he doesn't seem like himself anymore."

"I guess he's all worked up about the robbery," Miss Andrews said sympathetically.

"Obviously . . . I think he's going to try harder . . . of course, it wasn't his fault . . ."

"Sometimes things just happen that way."

"Yeah - I didn't know that Shun was doing drugs, though."

"Me neither. Do you think we could have - ?"

"Yes. It's our duty as teachers to make sure that this doesn't happen again. Which means . . ."

"Oh, Satoshi! I love it when you act all . . . all . . ."

"It means that I want you - all of us - to try harder on Takumi."

"Right, Satoshi. It was a pleasure talking to you again, I -"

"And I, you, Miss Andrews," Mr. Akimoto said, as a good-bye.

"Oh yes, and . . . you can just call me Keiko, okay?" Takumi's teacher cried, as the gym teacher left the room, Takumi making sure he didn't catch Mr. Akimoto's eye.

He waited by the room a few minutes. He didn't want to walk in right after they had discussed this. But he wished he could tell Miss Andrews now, and let her understand that he wasn't going to end up like Shun, in a juvenile hall (even though, of course, it wasn't drugs that landed Shun in a cell).

"Hey, you!"

Takumi zipped around. It was Mr. Mes, the janitor.

"Look at what you've done to this here floor, boy!" he roared, and stepped aside, revealing the muddy footprints left by Takumi.

"Sorry, Mr. Mes, sir - I, -"

Mes wasn't the type to except apologies, however. "Come to my office, boy. We're gonna get a mop, and yo gonna clean up all this dang mess you made."

Takumi would have loved to ask "Aren't you the janitor?" but Mes wasn't in good humor this morning. Together they hastened to his "office" - which was a broom cupboard. The smell of mothballs filled the hallway as Mes opened the tiny door. The moody janitor stumbled in and picked up a filthy mop that Takumi guessed was made in the forties.

"Here, boy," he said, shoving the mop to him. "You'd better clean it up, and you'd better clean it up good, and if not -"

The janitor's words were interrupted by an unusual sound. Flint Shale, the counselor, was in the hallway, on crutches.
"Morning, Mr. Mes," the counselor said as he hopped by. He turned around (the best he could) when he saw Takumi.

"Mornin', Mista Shale," the janitor said in reply, still in his cranky voice.

Mr. Shale smiled politely. "I must see Takumi for a conference, Mr. Mes. Come on, Takumi -" he said, gesturing toward him.

"'Scuse me, Mista Shale, but he needs to see me first. He walked in da school with his shoes all covered with mud 'n gunk. He's here to clean it up -"

The counselor looked thoughtful. "My apologies, Okii," he said, referring to Mes by his first name. "But you'll have to excuse us -"

"Buh, Mista Shale!"

"I'm sure that Mr. Hito will pay for any permanent damages he has done to your floor," the counselor assured. "And," he added brightly, "aren't you the janitor?"

And so Takumi and Mr. Shale (with some difficulty) walked to the guidance office, leaving a cursing Mes, who was brandishing his broom threateningly, like a club.

Soon they reached the door of the small room. It was locked. "Always have to lock this door," the guidance counselor said. "You wouldn't believe how many times some students have gone for a little peek at some of my studies." He brandished about seven sets of keys from his pocket. Each looked like they could fit a tiny, tiny keyhole, but not this particular one.

"You have a lot of keys," Takumi commented.

"Yes," he replied. "Some of them I haven't even used yet. Some I'm not supposed to use." He quickly got out the right key, a much larger one, then opened the wooden door.

Wondering why in the world someone would own keys that
they never used, or rather, keys that were not supposed to be used, Takumi sat down in a chair across from Mr. Shale's desk.

Mr. Shale himself hobbled in, taking a bit of time to put the numerous keys back in his pocket and finding his seat across from Takumi.

"Ah," he said as he sat down. "That feels much better."

"How'd you break your leg?" asked his patient curiously.

"Fell in a hole," he said painfully, lifting up his right leg to examine it. Takumi noticed a small burn near his ankle.

"So," he said, quickly changing the subject. "You said your last name's Hito, right?"

"Yes," Takumi replied. He knew that the counselor had addressed him as "Mr. Hito", when with Mes, so obviously, Mr. Shale already knew his last name was Hito.

"Not a very common name, is it?" he asked. "Any relation to Kairu Hito?"

Takumi almost jumped from his seat in amazement. "Yes," he answered quickly. "He's my - was my father."

"Oh," Mr. Shale said sympathetically. "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"That's okay," said Takumi. "Really - why did you bring it up? I mean - did you know him?"

Mr. Shale smiled. "Actually, I did. We were friends. Best friends, actually, in high school."

"Were you - best friends?"

"Yes, we were. You might notice a picture of a younger me in old photographs with your father or something." Takumi dropped his mouth open. He was in awe.

Come to think of it, he thought, he does look sort of familiar . . .

Noticing Takumi's amazement, the guidance counselor went on:
"And, we both grew up to become doctors. Eventually, though, we both went our separate ways . . ." Mr. Shale's voice strayed off. "I wanted to become a counselor, working with children. He wanted to be a medical researcher."

Mr. Shale looked at Takumi, who was in awe. Finally, he brought himself together and asked:

"Were you there when he worked on Ebola?" he asked. Mrs. Hito had told him that Ebola, a disease in Africa, had taken it's toll on Mr. Hito.

"Um . . ." It took a while for Mr. Shale to answer this question. "Well, we both worked on it. When I found no cure, that's when I decided that I would go along a different path... and I did. Your father kept on going, and then -"

"He died?"

"Well, I don't know for sure, I know he's dead, but - I never exactly saw him die. By then, I was back here, in Japan."

"Ebola must be a very horrible disease. If it hadn't been for that disease, my dad would still be here . . ."

"Yes. It's a very harmful disease."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Takumi wished he hadn't spoke them:
"Did any of your other friends die of Ebola?"

At these words, Mr. Shale jumped back. "What do you - die -" and then, suddenly:

"Oh, yes. Well, I met a lot of friends during my years as a doctor. And I have to say I wish they hadn't made the decision to work on Ebola . . ."

Takumi didn't ask any more questions. He didn't want to make Mr. Shale sad. But it was nice, nice, to talk to someone who knew a lot about his father . . .

"I'm sorry, Takumi," Mr. Shale apologized. "I guess talking about your father is painful for both of us."

He nodded in agreement, but he didn't want to stop talking about his dad.

"Now, talking about a lost loved one may feel good now," the counselor advised, "but it won't do any good in the long run. What we're aiming at, Takumi, is peace of mind, peace of heart."

Takumi looked up at his counselor.

"Now, is anything going better with your mom?" he asked.

"No," was the answer, but thinking it over, "Yes. We talked this morning. About drugs, about school, about mom's old counselor, Mr. Saga -"

"Who?!" Mr. Shale asked, jumping up and almost knocking over a can of coffee that was lying on his desk.

"Mr. Saga, or something like that."

"Alright," he said simply. "So, why do you say that was an improvement?"

"Well -" Takumi said, as though it was obvious. "We talked. I mean, we learned more about each other -"

"Right!" Mr. Shale interrupted. "You see, most reasons why families fall apart is simply because they don't understand each other. If you just take the time to know your mother, she'll know you better, and you'll become closer."

"Alright," Takumi agreed.

"Do you know when you can talk to her?"

"After . . . after she gets home from work, I guess."

"Good," Mr. Shale said. "Now . . . what other things can you talk to her about?" And so the discussion continued on, and after it was time to go Takumi felt somewhat better. He liked Mr. Shale. Aside from talking about his father, he was also a great counselor. If only he had a book that could help him out whenever he was in a problem such as with his mother . . . or something that could help him deal with becoming a Digimon . . .

"Oh, yes, Takumi," the counselor reminded, as his patient walked out the door. "Remember about that test. One more good session and then we'll try to redo that test, alright?"

"Right," he said as he left.

The instant he left Mr. Shale's small office, he began to regret being in school. If only he could have talked to Mr. Shale about Shun . . .

It didn't take him a very long time to reach Miss Andrew's classroom. He noticed, as he opened the door and walked into her room, that Mr. Mes must have cleared up the mud that he had trailed in.

"Ah, Takumi!" Miss Andrews greeted as he walked in. Several faces peered at him from behind their desks. "Good to see you . . . sit right down . . ." As he walked by, she whispered in his ear:

"Did the conference go well?"

"Very."

He found his seat, which he saw that his neighbor, Masami Okabe, was using the empty desk as a wastebasket for his useless papers. Masami grinned nervously and snatched up the junk papers as Takumi sat down.

"Alright, now it's time for Science," Miss Andrews directed, standing up from her old, blue chair and pulling a science book from her desk.

Takumi, and most of the remainder of the class, except Yuuko, the teacher's pet, groaned. Science was his least favorite subject, besides Language Arts, Geography, Math, Gym, and Keyboarding . . . actually, he hated all the subjects equally. Yuuko, however, looked rather excited as she brought out her mint condition science book.

"Now . . . turn to page three hundred and seventy three, class. I hope all of you remembered to do the homework on identifying rocks." Her eyes narrowed as she gazed at Chiaki, who was humming loudly as he studied the dinosaur section of the textbook. "Now, if you will pass in your homework . . ." Takashi Shimada collected the homework from each row of desks, then handed it over to Miss Andrews, who piled them up neatly and reviewed them. "Very good, Yuuko . . . tut tut . . . she was the only one to find the differences between sandstone and pumice . . . Adamu, you didn't do numbers one through six . . . I will take off for that . . . Chiaki . . . this isn't homework. It's just a crude drawing of a witch. I suggest you - what - is that me?! Chiaki, that is extremely offensive, and I will be giving you two more detentions for this . . . and I will be speaking to Mrs. Falle . . . she'll find some way to deal with you, I'm sure . . ."

Chiaki groaned as Miss Andrews put the papers aside and wrote something in a small notebook.

The class droned on from there, Takumi researching all sorts of different kind of rocks which he had no idea why anyone would bother to name. He was quite relieved when the bell rang for Keyboarding, which he had with Mrs. Questus, where he learned more about her life in general than anything else.

The students in her class waited impatiently at their typewriters as she droned on and on about how one of her seven brothers had perilous adventures while milking a cow.

"Boring life enough without her making it more boring," grumbled one of the students as Takumi headed to the cafeteria, where he had a horrible lunch, as he always had on Monday (cheese salad with bacon bits), then went to math class, where they were discussing dividing fractions.

"Need any help?" Miss Andrews asked politely of Takumi as he doodled on his math homework.

"Not really," he said, wondering why his teacher was helping him more than any other student. Then he realized that it must be because she thought he was going to evolve into a robber, just like everyone thought Shun had become.

The next class was gym, which he had every Monday.

"Doing okay, Takumi?" asked Mr. Akimoto, the gym teacher. He clapped his hands together. This was odd, Mr. Akimoto almost never referred to students by their first names.

"Fine," was the answer, Takumi realizing that Mr. Akimoto had the same fears of Miss Andrews. This was annoying, he hated being regarded like this.

He grabbed his gym bag and walked slowly to the boy's locker room, where Teran Turpis, a big, stupid bully, was trying to flush Masami Okabe's shorts down the toilet.

Takumi dressed into his gym clothes with no interruption, then grabbed his gym bag and hastened out the door, ignoring wild roars from the interior of the locker room.

The gym class was a dull one: Mr. Akimoto greeted Takumi and patted him on the back, then they huffed and puffed as they ran around the basketball court twelve times, then, stomachs aching, working on relay races, and finally turning in with a large dose of water, where Takumi had to wait for a long time.

"Glad to see you were early for this class," Mr. Akimoto said, grinning. "Hope you keep it up. I expect you back here early next Monday." Takumi really wanted to hit his gym teacher on the head with his gym bag, even though, he thought afterwards, he was just being nice, and that wasn't a thing to complain about.

"Have you seen my shorts?" Masami asked, in nothing but his boxers. Takumi shook his head and slipped on his original clothes, which felt much more comfortable. He quickly made his way out of the gym as the bell rang for history class. He stopped on his way for water from the fountain.

History class . . . this was the only time he had ever been looking forward to it. No, it wasn't really history class he was looking forward to . . . it was that girl . . . Reina Yoshida.

He skipped to his remaining class and sat behind the beautiful girl. He stared at her beautiful, brown hair. It seemed smooth as silk. He could not take his eyes off her, not even to focus on Miss Andrews, giving a lecture on how Marco Polo had traveled to China. Not even enough to focus on Miss Andrews when he asked a question.

"Let me repeat this. What was Marco Polo's first job?"

Wow, he thought, looking at Reina's perfect shoulders.

"TAKUMI!"

"Ah!"

Takumi almost jumped out of his seat in fright. He suddenly realized where he was. Reina turned around and giggled at him. Takumi froze in horror. Did she know he liked her?

"Takumi, perhaps you can tell me what Marco Polo's first job was?"

He then found out that he hadn't been paying attention for the last thirty minutes. He tried to think. He needed to answer.

"Duh - a delivery boy?"

"See me after class, Takumi."

It wasn't so bad. Because Miss Andrews and Mr. Akimoto were afraid that any cruel punishment may cause Takumi to rob a house, he was given a warning and nothing else. He walked out of history class, feeling as though he had made a fool out of himself.

At that moment, Teran Turpis was strolling down the hall, hanging out with two of his friends, one an incredibly chubby boy with a tattoo of a snake wrapping around an apple, another a skinny boy nicknamed Bones.

Takumi couldn't help noticing his loud conversation.

"Hullo, I'm F-boy," he imitated, and walked around the room like he was drunk. "Duh - I think I'll come over and rob this house. What do you say, boys?"

Bones smirked, Chubby laughed stupidly.

Anger burned in Takumi's heart. If he was going to prove that Shun was good, he was going to have to do it right here, right now.

"Hey, you better be quiet about Shun!" Takumi ordered. A group of kids watched, including Ryota and Reina.

"What, you mean F-boy?" Turpis asked, looking at Bones.

"You know who I'm talking about. And don't call him 'F-boy'!"

"Oooh . . . and . . . what are you going to do if I don't? Fight me? Huh? Huh? Huh?" He imitated Takumi, throwing weak punches.

Takumi would have backed down, for a fight with Turpis and his friends was not a wishful fate, but his anger supported him.

"Look - just because Shun's got other things on his mind than school doesn't give you any right to call him F-boy!"

"Right?" Turpis snarled. "I don't need any rights. I can say whatever I want. Right, Bones?"

He tapped Bones on the shoulder, who was snickering loudly.
"Besides," Turpis continued, "everyone knows he's a stupid little idiot. I mean, who the heck would rob a house when it's LIGHT?"

"Don't talk about things you don't understand!" Takumi ordered.

"There you go again," Turpis continued. "Listen, here. I can say whatever I want. Got that?" He brandished a huge fist.

"Shun robbed that house for a good reason!"

"Yeah," Turpis laughed. nudging Chubby. "Drugs."

At this, Takumi's anger went beyond the limit. He hit the oversized boy a big blow on the chest.

Big mistake.

Turpis aimed his gigantic first at Takumi's shoulder. The blow went in. Takumi fell over with a CLUNK.

"If anyone wants to question me, they'll have to question my fist!" Turpis roared, his friends laughed.

Suddenly, the boy fell over.

He fell, head-first, onto the hard floor.

Ryota had come from the crowd and kicked him on his back.
"I'll question your big stupid fist," Ryota announced, then punching Chubby in the stomach. The fat boy fell over in pain, with a sickening groan.

Bones, who had no plans to fight, ran from the scene.

Takumi heaved himself onto his legs.

"Sorry about earlier," Ryota whispered to him. "I promise, I'll make it up to you." Suddenly, Turpis stood up and lunged at Takumi. He jumped to the side just in time, allowing the heavy bloke to crash into a wall, knocking his head into it.

Chubby managed to get himself up, then heaved a fat fist at Ryota. Ryota jumped back, ducked, then aimed another blow at the boy's stomach. He fell again, this time crashing into a locker.

Turpis stood up, his hands over his forehead.

"For your information," Ryota said, "Shun did rob the house for a good purpose. And his name is Shun, not F-boy. And if anyone wants to question that, then -"

Takumi kicked Turpis in the ankle, who fell down in pain.

"- they'll go down just like these guys," was the final announcement made by Ryota, who happily marched out of the hallway, who managed to step on Chubby's back.

The crowd that was watching broke into a cheer. They had been bullied constantly by Turpis and his gang, and they were glad that someone had taught them a lesson. Takumi caught a glance of Reina, her features broke into a warm smile. He smiled back.

He felt glad as he hopped onto the bus with Ryota. Turpis had finally been brought down, Reina appeared to like him. But most of all, Ryota had become Takumi's friend. He would look upon this day as one of the best in his life and would never, ever forget it.

Next time, on Digimon Genesis!
Miho's decided to hold a little Digimon tournament! Who is the most powerful Digimon in their group? Who has the best skills? Who has the most control? But the question in the minds of all are: Will the tournament spell disaster? Find out on the next Digimon Genesis:

TOURNAMENT OF TROUBLE