Author's Note: To anyone out there still reading this story: please don't. It's been over a year since I last updated and I want to apologise, but the best thing I can think of is just posting this long overdue update. A special shoutout to Nat-chan, who went over the whole thing and gave me pointers on what needed to be addressed first.
As of this chapter, character arcs will start overlapping as we reach the rising action of the storyline. What this means is that the main focus will change alternately between the remaining ones, but I swear I (kinda) know what I'm doing.
[06/28/16]
A Splintered Thing
Everyone knew that when Her Royal Majesty's fingers tapped any surface, someone was about to lose their head. They had learned not to let this get in the way of work though, for they had seen firsthand that panic only made her more irritated. So with the pressures of a conventional job out of the way, the Digimon in Her Royal Majesty's service could attend her needs and see to her plans in a highly organized, cost-efficient way. Some had an inkling though, that their leader didn't really care about what they did. She was often in her chambers, emerging only to allow any one of her generals in, and leaving only by night, when no-one could see her.
The Chessmon that had remained in the palace as court-placers to the Queen had been offended at first that QueenChessmon had left them there. When LordKnightmon came with news of her demise though, and with her data to prove it, they had been grateful, for once, to have been left behind. Their jobs seemed to entail very little actual work, as Her Majesty seemed to be concerned more with gossip than anything else. Nothing new for the Chessmon, but curious once they realised the kind of boring gossip she cared about.
Every now and then, Digimon from all over the Digital World came to her with whispers of a moving island that appeared out of nowhere. It had been seen, for two days, from the Eastern coast of Server, but that was a week ago and no-one had found it since then. While on shift, he accidentally stumbled upon the knowledge that what she was looking for seemed to be a village of sorts, which contained something very dear and precious to her. The Chessmon took this information and carefully stored it, thinking maybe that if he happened to hear something more about this village, his new Queen would be pleased.
And she probably would have been, if there was anything at all that pleased the Queen.
.
.
The town was abuzz with activity as fixing and re-building occupied most of its inhabitants, causing a flurry of movement to and from and a great deal of noise. Despite the urgency of the situation, Monzaemon had insisted on imposing his gratitude upon them, practically begging them to stay a day ("Or two! Or forever!") in Toy Town. They had taken him up on the offer almost too readily; still sore and stiff from their battle, too mentally exhausted to follow up on any previously made plan. They tried to rationalize this decision by saying they were short on supplies (they had lost several items in the seize), but the truth was that their encounter with Cho Hokkaimon had cast a dark, perilous shadow over them. In all their years as Digidestined, in all of their adventures, they had never encountered such torture and horror as this. Still, the excuse seemed to be a balm for their injuries and pride, and after being slowly nourished into some semblance of health, every one of them looked and felt much better.
With Jyou and Sora looking into replenishing their medical supplies and Koushiro still hacking away at her Digivice (she had no interest in joining Taichi and Yamato as they helped with the reconstruction of the town), Mimi had been practically dragged by Hikari and Takeru around town, having their own list of implements to replace. The prospect of working hard being somehow sweetened by the promise of some sort of shopping spree, Mimi grudgingly agreed. That they had somehow stumbled into a few randomly stocked boutiques was proof enough to her that there was a higher power involved in the design of this world, and she could have cried for joy the moment she set eyes on a new pair of boots. Why the Digimon carried a selection of human clothes was beyond them, and, not being in a position to question this, Mimi decided she didn't care to solve that particular mystery. She ended up being left alone at the store while they slipped away to finish gathering everything, glad, after a moment, to be left alone.
"You okay?" Takeru asked well into the morning, looking at Hikari out of the corner of his eye while she pretended to examine the pattern of a particularly horrendous towel.
"I'm fine," she lied, shaking her head. "Still a little tired, I think."
Takeru sighed, looking back at the list and the basket he carried. It was laden with things such as repellent, matches, flashlights and batteries, and he threw in a measure of rope.
"We haven't really had time to rest," he said. "You should go back to the inn, I can handle the rest of the stuff."
"And let you do the shopping on your own?" Hikari snorted. "Right."
"You know, you're the only one here who doesn't trust me."
"Because I know you, Takeru-kun. You'll forget half the things on the list and add twice as much."
"I can't believe you'd bring that up," he groaned.
"Who needs industrial-level adhesive for an art project?"
"I was twelve Hikari."
"And yet, you're holding a protractor in your hand..."
He let go of the item, scowling to hide the tint in his cheeks.
"I was just looking at it."
"Sure you were." But she went on smiling, bending down to pick up different coloured toothbrushes, and a thick hairbrush that she thought Mimi might appreciate.
Takeru pretended to be indignant, turning his back on her as he helped himself to other things such as new blankets, water bottles and a sewing kit to replace the one Sora had lost.
"Will Sora-san like this?" Patamon asked, carrying the box atop his head.
"I'm sure she will," Hikari responded, folding a towel and stuffing it into the basket. "She's always mending and patching things up, it'll be useful."
Tailmon, perched atop a tall shelf as the Digimon filed below her picking up nails, hammers and other tools for their rebuilding efforts, watched them out of her slit pupils.
"Humans are so strange," she purred, eye fixed on Hikari's turned back, and then at Takeru's frown.
Replacing the things that they needed wasn't difficult; Koushiro had managed to salvage most of their biggest things in that sad little fort he had built. By that evening they had come back to the inn and had packed their bags neatly, each taking care to add a few individual items. Sora and Jyou had re-stocked his medical supplies and had found a hefty measure of non-perishable food that they could carry without adding too much bulk, (Sora felt rather pleased about this fact) and she had just finished putting everything away when Takeru presented her with the small padded box.
"Hmm? What's this?"
"A sewing kit," Patamon answered happily, lying atop Takeru's head. "Hikari-chan thought you'd like it!"
Sora blushed, turning it over in her hands and giving them a sheepish little smile.
"I can't believe you'd think of that," she said. "You and Hikari-chan are very sweet. Thank you."
"Don't thank us," Takeru said, yawning. "We're assuming we'll need you to patch our clothes up."
She rolled her eyes, playfully flicking his forehead as he laughed.
"Have you seen your brother?"
"I think he's upstairs. You want me to get him?"
"No," Sora shook her head. "I'll go myself. Try not to eat too much," she added, eyeing the way he was reaching for the food that was being laid out for them.
Takeru stopped mid-reach, then gave her a resigned little grin. "We don't know when we'll have our next meal," he said, biting into it. "I'm going to eat until I puke."
Sending him one last scolding look (hanging out with Taichi was rubbing off on him the wrong way, she'd have to have a talk with him), Sora, still holding on to the little box, climbed the stairs up to his and Yamato's room. She knocked on the door twice and, upon hearing no answer, hesitated before turning the knob.
The rooms were very simple, decorated in quaint wooden furniture and with vases that carried fresh flowers. Sora tried not to think about her mother, mentally scolding herself for being so sentimental. Yamato was on the far end of the room, looking out the window as he ran a towel across his head, drying his hair. He was naked from the waist up and when he turned to see her, the briefest hint of pink coloured his cheeks.
"Sora," he said, hanging the towel from his neck, a little self-consciously.
"I knocked," she excused herself, looking right at the floor.
"Ah, I didn't hear you," he said. "But please, come on in."
He sat against the windowsill and Sora took a seat on a bed, placing the box next to her.
"Your brother and Hikari got me a sewing kit," she answered his quizzical look.
"That's very thoughtful of them," he said with a nod.
Sora, schooling herself not to gape at him too much so as to not forget what she had come to say (which was the mildest effect of looking directly at Yamato), only smiled, nodding.
"Those are nice," she commented. "Where did you get them?"
Yamato looked down at his pants, then at the stack of clothes neatly folded on the other bed, then at her, tilting his head to one side.
"What do you mean?" he asked. "I thought you left this here for me."
"Me?" Sora asked, shocked. "Why would you think that?"
"Because you were shopping, and these are all my size…"
Sora blushed, her cheeks matching her hair. "Yes, for emergency supplies with Jyou-senpai."
"Then…?"
"It was probably Mimi," Sora reflected after a moment, twisting the ends of her baggy shirt between nervous fingers. She couldn't stop herself from getting up and reaching towards the pile of clothes, eyeing each piece carefully. Each one was perfect for Yamato, she noticed. She picked out a plain white t-shirt and a deep blue, long sleeved overshirt and held them out for him.
"These look perfect," she said. "You should wear them."
Yamato did not move at first and when he did, he took the clothes hesitantly, holding them in one hand. There was a strange look on his face and when Sora was about to ask, he placed them on the bed again, with much less care than she'd had. He took the towel again and bent forward, drying his hair more meticulously than ever. When he looked up, she was still looking at him, eyes strangely listless.
"Sora?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You came in to say something?"
She snapped out of her reverie, taking a couple of seconds in analysing his question.
"What?" Oh, yeah," she said. "Dinner's just about ready. Takeru intends to make himself sick eating, so I thought I'd let you know."
"Thank you," he sighed. "Listen, about…"
"I'll let you change now," she squeaked. "We'll wait for you downstairs!"
"Sora…"
But she had already gotten up and closed the door behind her without a second glance. Yamato hung his damp towel on the back of a chair, glaring into the clothes that had been so carefully picked and pressed, and changed into the white t-shirt. The material was soft, breathable, and he let out a scoff because it shouldn't bother him that she had done something like this for him but it did, because he didn't know how to not be defensive, and how to not be ungrateful, and uncomfortable, and self-doubting. He kicked a chair, finally, and let himself fall down on the bed.
Outside, Sora leaned into the closed door, eyes closed. She jumped when she heard the sound of wood falling and pressed her ear against the door but nothing else happened, and Yamato did not come out. Startled, she moved away towards her room, barely looking inside before closing the door behind her.
"You're back!" Mimi exclaimed happily, shrugging into a long-sleeved shirt. "Are you coming down for dinner?"
She was wearing new clothes too, she noticed, and the gut feeling she'd had before increased tenfold.
"Mimi, where—,"
"I brought you something!" Mimi said, winking towards Sora's bed. There was another pile of clothes there, freshly ironed and neatly arranged in colours (Sora's yellow, orange and blue), right next to her pillow. "I thought you'd want to, you know, have clothes that weren't old and smelly. Tell me if you like anything, I'm starving."
Mimi skipped out of her reach, throwing a playful smile over her shoulder as Sora slumped down on the bed, head in her hands.
I'm a terrible person.
.
.
The table spread was simple, cozy, very tasty. There was stew and several vegetables, white rice with chives, grilled fish, meatloaf and cold dessert with fruit. Most of the children (and how odd it felt to think of themselves as such) sat there except Sora and Yamato, who were still in their respective rooms. By the time Sora came down, they had already begun eating and she shyly slid into a place next to Jyou and Taichi, inconspicuously stealing glances at Mimi, who seemed to be amused feeding their Digimon partners in some sort of game that she normally would not approve of.
When Yamato came down, he stopped for a moment to look at Sora, then at Mimi, and then at everyone else.
"Hey," Taichi greeted him, swallowing a mouthful of rice. "We thought you were asleep."
"I was," Yamato lied, not even faking a yawn. His eyebrows shot up. "Cool vest."
"Right?" Taichi asked, preening like a peacock. "Mimi brought us all some stuff. Hey—that shirt looks great on you." The last part was said with a degree of indignation, as though Yamato ought to be ashamed to look better than Taichi—which was not the case, clearly.
He gave Mimi a side-eye glance. "Honestly, Mimi, it's like you don't even try."
"Get over yourself, Taichi-san," Mimi responded idly, toying around with her food. "We couldn't go about saving the world in rags."
"You're right," Sora said suddenly, breaking apart a small loaf of bread in her hand. "Thank you so much, Mimi-chan," and she brightened up, smiling at her and drawing Taichi's attention. "I hadn't even thought of new clothes! We're so lucky to have you to worry about those things…"
Mimi blinked twice, slowly.
"Sure..."
Jyou watched her over his spectacles, eyes narrowing ever so slightly, just enough to make Sora blush and want to shrink into her seat.
"Are we leaving tomorrow, Taichi?" she asked, eyes passing briefly over Mimi without lingering on her. She didn't think she could bear it if she smiled.
His bearing was a little more serious, and she marveled once more at how quickly he could change from being his usual laid-back, goofy self. Taichi chewed slowly, taking his time. Beside him and completely opposite to his semblance, Agumon was happily wolfing down everything he could possibly fit into his mouth.
"I guess," he finally answered, swallowing. "We're thinking we'll take the Trailmon out of here, then continue on foot once we cross the valley. Shouldn't take more than three days; four at most."
"Are you okay, Sora?" Piyomon asked, eyeing her human partner. "You're not eating at all!"
"That's no good," Tentomon said. "You need to keep your strength, Sora-san."
"I'm fine. Just tired from today, and all this planning..." her smile was strained. "I just don't have much of an appetite."
'Not having much of an appetite' wasn't a problem the Digimon, Takeru or Taichi had ever had, so Sora let the rest take over the conversation as she focused on making herself eat. From what she had gathered from the maps and hearing Yamato speak about it, they had a long way to travel, longer than they had before. It was easy to imagine this was just another adventure, but Sora felt more nervous with each passing day. The fact that they had already spent weeks here was lingering in the back of her mind, a warning sign of some sort that things were only going to get worse, but she refused to let her worries show. Instead, she opened her mouth and spooned a large amount of food in, avoiding Yamato's inquisitive look, or Jyou's steady stare for the rest of the meal.
Packing turned out to be pretty easy, and it unnerved her how quickly she was done. She stole a quick look at herself in the mirror, frowning. The ensemble that Mimi had picked for her was very pretty, comfortable and functional. She had even made sure they all had coats, which most had lost, and Sora felt bad once more for treating her with such cheek. But, she told herself, it wasn't really about Mimi; it was about Taichi and Yamato, and this darned place.
A knock on the door brought her back from her reverie.
"Come in," she said, folding a blanket neatly and stuffing it carefully inside her bag. She looked up, but the blue eyes that looked back at her were not the ones she had expected.
"Jyou," she said softly, then smiled. "I thought you were Yamato."
"I'm sorry," he apologised, and he meant it. "Yamato-kun is finishing up too, I just wanted to have a word with you, if I may?"
Her heart started beating a little faster, but she managed to nod gracefully and sit on the bed.
"Of course," she said, gesturing towards Mimi's bed. "Do you...?"
"Sora-chan, are you okay?"
"What do you mean?"
"These past few days..." he began, as if unsure of how to continue. "We've been through a lot. I haven't had the chance to speak to everyone but, I think some of us might be under a lot of strain and that's very dangerous," his eyes darkened. "I would know."
"I'm fine, Jyou," she breathed out, relieved that this was all he wanted to talk about. "Besides, we've all been through worse, haven't we?"
Jyou, still not smiling, looked at her levelly.
"I don't think we ever have."
Sora was surprised, hurt even. She hadn't expected him to speak so seriously, or to so coldly dismiss her optimism. True, Jyou had always been kind of a pessimist but that was only because he worried so much. To hear him speak about it now made Sora more nervous than she had been at dinner or before that, with Yamato.
"We still don't know why we're here, and you still haven't found your crest activator. Nobody has, except for me, Yamato and Koushiro. I'm afraid the search might turn us all a little mad."
"Crest activator?"
Jyou blushed slightly, and the corner of Sora's mouth curled up.
"Koushiro ... you know him."
"I know you both," she said. "And it's good, that you're trying to find answers."
Jyou looked surprised for a moment, then frowned.
"It's all we've been doing since we got here, Sora."
She nodded, but he had the distinct impression that she was not listening, or rather, didn't care much for what he was saying, which was a bit surprising because he would expect that from Mimi, or Takeru, but not from her. Jyou chewed on the inside of his cheek, idly watching her as she folded what little clothes Mimi had gotten her. He wanted to press her, but he also knew that Sora didn't react very well to that sort of approach; years of experience had taught him that.
"Just find me, if you need to talk," he sighed. "Okay?"
She watched him stand and smile feebly at her in a way that made her nervous suddenly, that she ever would.
"Okay."
.
.
They decided to take the midnight Trailmon out of Toy Town, partly for the cover, partly because it was a really long drive. They loaded their luggage, muttered sleepy good-byes and within minutes, the town was out of sight. Sora chose an empty compartment and threw her bag in, sliding the door shut before Mimi had any ideas to join her. She knew she was being petty, but Jyou had truly shaken her up and she didn't feel like making small talk.
Mimi, understanding that Sora may have been making it clear she wanted to be with Yamato, did not make the fuss she otherwise would've made. Things were bad enough as they were without her going full princess on them, so she graciously conceded a few defeats every now and then. Huffing, she sat down next to Koushiro, who still hadn't given her Digivice back; the thought of not having it on her made her giddy despite her claims not to be. Instead, she took to hovering about him more often which in turn, made him nervous as well.
"How's it going?" she asked, peering over his shoulder.
"It's complicated," he answered shortly. "Whatever you did to your Digivice Mimi, it has been doing fantastic things to my program. It's like you fed it stratospheric amounts of information and I'm—," he paused, taking a moment to collect himself. "I should have an answer soon. This is really prodigious."
Mimi was gazing out of the window, already bored with his explanation. It wasn't so much that she didn't care, it was more like she hardly ever understood the complicated procedures Koushiro often talked about when he was completely wired. It made her feel a little silly, and feeling silly was never a good thing when it came to Mimi.
"Shiro-chan," she spoke after a few minutes. "Do you remember what happened with those DarkTyranomon, a few weeks back?"
It took him a moment to answer, but his fingers still typed away.
"Yes," he said. "What about it?"
"My Digivice took the dark matter away. Why is it always my Digivice?"
"Maybe because you're always doing things you shouldn't."
They both looked up at the door, where a grinning Taichi stood. Koushiro was frowning and Mimi, rolling her eyes.
"I don't remember asking you."
"Hey," he warned playfully. "Drop the attitude. No sign of Gennai?"
Koushiro shook his head.
"Nothing. I'm getting a lot better at keeping up our firewalls but it almost seems…" he trailed off and Taichi raised an eyebrow.
"…like he doesn't want to be found."
"Why would Gennai…?"
"Think about it, Taichi. If he has found something seriously big…"
"He wouldn't want us to know until he was sure it was safe," Taichi concluded, nodding. "You know, I wish everyone would cut back a little on the mystery. I'm getting tired of only knowing what's going on here."
Koushiro became silent at that, once again absorbed in his laptop but Mimi caught the tension in his shoulders, frowning.
"Oh Taichi," she sighed, sliding seamlessly past him. "It's cute how you think you know what's going on."
He glared until she disappeared out the door and then he glared some more.
"Sometimes, and don't ever tell her I said this, I swear to you, Koushiro ... I miss when she's mopey and crying."
"That's not a very nice thing to say, Taichi-san."
"Yeah, well," he gestured with his hands before finally dropping them. "She can be a handful. Just the other night we were ..."
Koushiro paused, raising an eyebrow. Taichi caught himself, scoffing and looking away before he betrayed himself completely.
"Whatever, it was probably nothing."
"You know, Taichi-san, Mimi is..."
"What?" he asked, irritably.
Koushiro chewed on the inside of his lip, then shook his head.
"You're right, it was probably nothing."
Taichi, either too thick or too tired to care, let the matter drop. He looked at Koushiro gravely, squaring his shoulders.
"Listen, I need you to do something for me..."
.
.
As the journey wore on, Sora became increasingly anxious. She was irritable, moody and snappy, and even Yamato, who had never had any problem understanding her, had taken to avoiding her if he could. As her discomfort grew, she spent more time with Jyou, who had been as unsuccessful as any in getting any useful information out of her, but worried about the bits she did share. Finally, on the second day, he found her in her compartment, packing whatever little belonged to her in a sturdy rucksack.
"Is this a bad time?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm getting off on the next station."
"What do you mean, you're getting off?" Taichi demanded loudly. "We still have two days to go."
Sora raised her digivice, showing the incessant beeping that had been driving her crazy the past two days.
"I have to, Taichi," she said stiffly. "You wouldn't understand."
"I can't just let you go off on your own," he said incredulously. "We don't know what we're up against!"
Sora, feeling the colour rise to her cheeks, was suddenly on her feet, furious.
"What about Koushiro, and Yamato?" she snapped irrationally. "You let them both go alone!"
"But they're not you!"
He had gotten closer during their argument and now he towered in front of her, wet, brown eyes fixed on her. He wasn't holding her hand, wasn't touching her at all and she wanted to cry, that he wouldn't. Her lower lip trembled when she spoke.
"Tai—,"
Over his shoulder, she barely had time to catch a glimpse of faded rose. Closing her mouth tightly, she pushed him away.
"I'm not asking for your permission."
"What about Yamato?"
Sora paused.
"I'm not asking him, either."
"Sora..."
"I'll meet you at the valley in a day, maybe two. I don't know how long it'll take me."
Taichi, with his hands closed into fists, sighed.
"Not very long," he said. "Trust me."
He stalked off and after a while, Sora relaxed, wondering if he'd have let her go so easily, if it had been Mimi instead. Her heart sank.
She had just finished changing into fresh clothes (sturdy denim pants, a cotton shirt and an open button shirt to protect her from the sun), when Yamato came in. His hair was a little dishevelled and he looked like he had just woken up; the bags under his eyes were darker than before and it made Sora's heart sink.
"Tai said you're going off on your own."
Of course he did, the traitor.
"Yeah," she said. "It's just a few hours off course. I'll meet up with you at the valley entrance at Engine."
Yamato sat opposite her, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Are you all packed? You should take one of our maps."
It was strange, seeing him so calm and collected. She had expected him to at least try to stop her, like Taichi had, and she bristled slightly.
"You're not mad I'm leaving?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"It's what you have to do," he said, matter-of-factly. "So do it. You'll be glad I'm not coming, trust me."
She was about to retort, ask what was so damn mysterious about it that they all seemed to keep to themselves, but he was already in front of her and once she found his eyes, she was already drowning. Yamato hugged her tightly, kissing her cheek.
"We'll wait for you."
Trust me.
Startled, she hugged him back and clumsily touched his cheek.
"Yeah," she said. "Wait for me."
She left that night, a few minutes into their stop at an abandoned Digi-station. The cold desert air bit into her skin but she and Piyomon walked for a while, admiring the starry skies. Despite her partner's company, Sora felt for the first time in a long, long while, completely alone in the Digital World. She didn't want to think about Yamato, letting her go so easily, or Taichi, who had been the opposite. And she definitely didn't want to think about him being sad, and worried, and turning to Mimi, who could somehow make it all better.
"Can you turn into Birdramon?" she asked, throat clenched tight. "I want to get this over with."
In the dark of the night, a blaze illuminated the skies like a mid-summer comet. They watched it from afar, the great bird that soared further away until it was swallowed by the first few rays of the morning sun. Sora clung tightly to her Digimon's back, gaze split between the horizon and the signal she was following on her Digivice.
.
.
It was strange, how compulsion worked.
She had been sitting, playing around with Piyomon when it began. It snuck around her ankles, her wrists, the column of her neck and it was as if it all snapped her towards one direction at the same time. The urge was like a great hunger, a terrible ache that clouded all other pains and condensed them in one fixed point. And she was angry. Angry at Jyou, for going off on his own. Angry at Koushiro, for being away whilst they were held captive. Angry at Yamato, for handling it all so well. Angry at Taichi, for not understanding, for having no idea how it felt to have this thrust upon with no chance of escaping. And she was angry at herself, for not knowing how to handle it.
They travelled all night, and rested for a few hours during the morning, when the sun was brightest. They made camp near a few big rocks, seeking their shadow for protection against the cruel sun and even crueler sandstorms that threatened them. Piyomon nestled between her arms and they ate good food they brought from Toy Town, which made the first part of their journey comfortable if not completely enjoyable.
She was still struck though, by the loneliness in a desert she was sure had been thriving with activity years before. By the time she got off Birdramon's back the second time, in front of what had at some point been a Digimon school, Sora felt close to crying. The wood was rotten and old, but the sign was still visible and the structure was mostly there. It looked more neglected than attacked, and she wondered if it was any indication of how much time had truly elapsed. The thought made her eyes itch anew.
"Are you well, Sora?"
"Yeah," she lied, wiping her eyes. "The light's too bright."
"I don't like how this place feels..."
"Neither do I. Stay here," Sora said. "Don't let anything in."
She looked over the safety of the structure as best as she could, considering she didn't have Jyou's knowledge and experience, other than that one time he forced them to sit through two hours of intensive revising with him. Making sure that the building wouldn't fall on her head the minute she stepped in, Sora waved one more time to Birdramon and lowered her head to get inside.
The smell of old paper pervaded, but it was off-set by the smell of dust and rotting wood. There were tiny desks, tiny cushions, forgotten books that had been half-eaten by moths and old age, and though there were a few signs of raiding (no food storages, no valuables), there were none of a real struggle. The signal in her Digivice grew stronger, louder until her ears ached and she thought they might bleed, when she found it. It was no bigger than a tennis ball, incrusted into the opposite stone wall and looking dull and bleak. Sora's fingers were closing in around it when she withdrew, the light dimming immediately.
"Why are you here?"
"What do you want?"
She was looking at two girls, clad in white and black outfits. Her eyes narrowed.
"You're the Sistermon, aren't you?"
"You didn't answer our questions."
"You know who I am; I'm not going to hurt you…"
"Of course we know who you are, Bearer of Love…"
"…and you could never hurt us."
Sistermon Blanc tilted her head to one side, almost curious.
"I wonder how it'll all play out for you, in the end…"
"You have so much to lose, and your judgment will come, as it must."
"As it must, yes…"
"What are you talking about?"
They were suddenly very still, eyes glazed over. Sora felt cold and her fingers instinctly curled over the rock that bore her crest, activating it. The rock, jagged and sharp started melting between her palm and fingers and the pain was almost blinding. Sora screamed, letting go as the crest was burnt into her hand while the others' eyes were upon her, unblinking.
"We are called upon," Sistermon Noir announced. "Two more Keepers have found what they must."
"As they all will, too."
She paused, as if reconsidering something. Later, Sora would remember the look on her eyes as she glanced over her shoulder to warn her.
"Love divided, Takenouchi Sora, can conquer none."
She was shaking by the time they left, crying and holding her bleeding hand. Outside she heard Birdramon's furious screeches as she shot a jet of fire in a rage.
"Sora!"
"Did you see anyone coming out of the building?"
"No, but I heard you scream. Are you alright? You're bleeding!"
"I'll be fine," Sora gasped. "Just-just give me a while, okay?"
She collapsed on the floor, near her rucksack, and carefully washed her wounds and dressed them as well as she could. She sucked her teeth in the moment her wounds came in contact with liquid, and she moaned quietly, wrapping her hand in fresh bandages. She was tired, hot and sweating and scared, and she ducked her head between her knees, sobbing as Birdramon watched helplessly and tried to protect her from the angry sandslash that beat against them.
"Sora, did anything happen?" Birdramon asked after a while. When her answer came, it was more disheartening than her silence had been.
"I want to go home."
.
.
The compartment would've been empty, had it not been for the brooding blond in it and his Digimon partner. Gabumon had his eyes closed, drifting in and out of sleep as Yamato slipped in and out of his brooding silences to chew out someone else in the group. Yamato stared outside the window, looking at nothing in particular as he drummed his fingers lightly on the wooden panels.
"What's eating you?"
He stopped the drumming, tense.
"Nothing."
Gabumon opened one eye, looking straight at Yamato who didn't even have the decency to look away.
"She's going to be okay," he said carefully. "Sora knows how to take care of herself, and she's not alone."
"Yeah," Yamato murmured. "That's the problem."
He imagined that at this point, Sora would have already found her crest activator. Not two hours had fully passed after they were back on track that Takeru and Hikari claimed they too, had to leave the train. It had been difficult, restraining Taichi. He imagined how he felt, letting Sora and then his sister go. His own struggle seemed minimal in comparison, and yet … it was the same.
The most immediate problem he had to face now though, was the emptiness of the train. Without Sora, without his brother and Hikari, Yamato felt awfully alone. He had walked by Koushiro and Tentomon, who had been working on Mimi's Digivice while she dressed Palmon and Gabumon in different clothes. Taichi and Jyou were sometimes in conference, other times Jyou slept, and Taichi climbed to the roof with Agumon, trying to glimpse any of their friends on their way back. Yamato only lied on his back, trying to sleep away his fatigue and the nagging feeling on the back of his head that they were forgetting something important. So he'd taken to walking around the train while everyone slept, knowing there was nowhere he could get that way.
At the sound of voices, Yamato suddenly stopped, tense.
"Mimi?"
"Did I wake you? I'm sorry."
"No, don't worry. I couldn't sleep anyway."
From the half-light, he saw Mimi pull her hair over her shoulder, lowering her head.
"Are you worried about Sora-chan?"
"I'm worried about everyone," Jyou lowered his papers, dimming the light. "Taichi, most of all. Have you seen him, today?"
"I walked past his compartment earlier. He was asleep, of course."
"I guarantee he's not," Jyou grimaced. "Would you mind checking up on him for me?"
"You know," Mimi sighed. "I hate doing Sora's job."
"But you love Tai."
"But I love Tai," she conceded.
"So you'll do it?"
"Fine, but you get Koushiro. Tell him to hurry with my Digivice – I'm going crazy without it."
There was some mumbling that suggested her craziness had little to do with her temporary loss, to which Mimi responded by playfully sitting on his back, later joined by a recently woken Palmon and Gomamon that insisted on jumping. Yamato, deciding he'd seen and heard enough, simply faded out and went straight over to his compartment, wishing he hadn't left.
.
.
"Jyou, how long do you reckon we have?"
Jyou rubbed his face, stifling a yawn.
"An hour, maybe two. This is far as the old tracks go."
According to the map they had worked in, they had left the desert well behind and were entering the valley they had agreed upon. The Trailmon could take them up until the old train station, and then would turn tail and head back West to Toy Town, where it would pretend to have been derailed and wandering aimlessly for the past week. If their calculations were correct (and they almost certainly were, with Koushiro and Jyou in charge), this was as far East as they could go and crossing the valley would take them to the very edge of the continent, which was exactly where Taichi wanted to be.
"Alright, Digidestined, this is 'bout as far out as I can go," the Trailmon said, revving engines as they lowered all their bags and suitcases.
"Thank you, Trailmon," Koushiro said, bowing. "We know you've taken a big risk bringing us here."
"That's fine," the Trailmon laughed sonorously. "You can't win it if you don't risk it. Stay safe!"
When the smoke had blended into the clouds, they finally turned around. Taichi had expected the valley to be a big obstacle, but even he was surprised by the sheer size and depth of it. It was sandy and hot for miles, but he could see the green beginning in the distance and he was struck with a speck of hope. Still, there was no sign of Sora, Hikari or Takeru.
"You think Sora will get here on time?" Palmon asked, voicing everyone's concern out loud.
Yamato gingerly pat her head and she looked up at him with big, wet eyes. It wasn't up to him to comfort her, he knew, especially not when there were so many others willing to do so. But it had struck a chord that she'd be worried about them, about Sora — his Sora, when she could've easily worried about the tough trek crossing the valley would be for her.
"She has to be."
Palmon sighed softly, giving him a dubious look, but smiling.
"Yeah," she said. "They have to."
.
.
Most Digimon were dreadfully terrified of interrupting their Queen's musings, but they had learned (through trial and error), that it was always best if she heard news – good or bad, as soon as they hit the castle. Their Queen was patient, but not unforgiving.
"Halt! Who goes there?"
"I bring tides of the East, for Her Royal Majesty."
"What tides?"
"BishopChessmon."
Both Digimon froze in place, stiff.
"Let my General through."
The guards, cowering in the presence of their queen bowed deeply, granting the intruder access to the throne room.
"Your Grace."
"Mervamon."
Mervamon smiled softly, pushing cerulean bangs out of her eyes. In the centre of the throne room, before a grandiose throne and her Queen, the Digimon General still managed to make an impressive sight. She was built in the manner of humans; tall of stature, thick, sturdy muscles hidden by a relatively slender frame and further styled by horrendous armour. The skull above her helmet alone was known to bring nightmares to her foes, and there was no amount of charm or physical allure that would make them forget how truly terrible Mervamon was. She laid her sword on the floor and knelt, as was customary for all of Her Majesty's generals and lackeys.
"Well?"
"We have lost Toy Town, My Lady."
"Cho Hakkaimon?"
"Dead."
"What about her prisoners?"
"Gone, as far as I can tell."
The Queen was silent, and Mervamon shifted only slightly.
"Alive, I trust?"
"There's strong indication of it, My Liege. There was a lot of activity and a bit of an informational hazard a few days ago. The source has not yet been identified, but we have received reports that the crests have been breaking in all of their locations," she paused. "Two have been salvaged."
"We need them to break all of the seals. Beyond repair, if possible, but I will settle with considerable damage. Make sure that the next one cannot be salvaged … too many in possession of them could easily become a liability."
Mervamon's eyes slowly rose to her Queen. The throne had been pushed back into the wall, where the windows had been tapered and covered with thick slabs of wood, and the sunlight could not touch her. It had been many moons since she was allowed to gaze upon her, and Mervamon could only barely make out the outline of her body and armour.
"We could kill them," she said hesitantly. The clink of armoured fingers against the cold metal armrests of the throne enthralled her, and she let her words sink in for a moment.
"I could," the Queen replied. "And then, who would get the seals for me? I can … no longer reach them. Would you do it for me, then?"
"My allegiance is to you alone, my Queen. I would gladly —,"
"It's not about what you would gladly attempt, child. It's what you could never accomplish. Find the Keepers, lead them to their seals, destroy them."
"My Queen —,"
"You have your orders."
"Yes, my Queen."
The doors closed behind her with a deafening roar.
"Guard?"
"Mervamon, sir?"
"Send word to the Starmon. We're going hunting." She paused near the doors, eyeing her scabbard. "And send for the smiths. I want my sword sharpened."
"Sir, yes sir!"
The night echoed around her, swallowing all light in a shrill call for blood.
