A/N: A day late. Sorry. I've got a new friend who seems to be convinced that she can make me as extroverted as she is. Not happening, but she won't give up, so thus hung out all night, making crafts and getting ready for a dance today.

So, thus, I just wrote this right now. I'm not entirely pleased, but I don't want to change it. Kari has always been hard for me to understand enough, just because my concept of her is so defined in my head. I know, that doesn't make sense...if she's so defined, why can't I write her? Well, she's not like Joe or Yolei, who, when you place in a situation, you can just hear their reactions. Kari's reactions are more subdued. She thinks a lot, in my opinion, and it's hard to transfer thoughts into writing while keeping it flowing well.

Anyway. Just read and enjoy! I was tempted to do her barrette instead, but I liked the camera idea more.


The camera came from a friend of a friend. Of a friend. To be honest, Kari had no idea who the actual owner of the camera had been. But that didn't matter, because—somehow—it found its way to her.

"What are you going to do with a camera?" Tai asked incredulously, when she had brought the electronic device home one night, proudly showing it off to her family.

"I'm going to take pictures," Kari had responded. Because, really, what else was a camera good for? Tai had responded that it could be a lethal weapon, but Kari wasn't convinced.

Later that night, as the two children—rather, the one teen and the child—got ready for bed, Tai had asked once more. "Since when do you take pictures?"

"Since now."

And, thus, Kari became a photographer.

Her earliest pictures were sources of simultaneous pride and embarrassment. Blurred, they often caught the floor as much as they would catch the object she had been trying to photograph. A memorable one was of her brother holding their cat—which was immortalized as a picture of Miko's tail.

Tai helped her with the string, making the camera into a kind of electronic necklace. He claimed it was because she looked strange without her whistle. Nevertheless, there was something about herself and wearing silver usable items around her neck that she appreciated.

And, one day, Kari realized that she knew how to photograph and get the desired results. A picture of the sunset was just that, a picture of a sunset, but it wasn't blurry, and she knew how to capture it forever. That's what a camera did: it captured memories, at least for as long as one could remember them.


"Kari? You coming?"

"Yeah, just a second." Kari held up her camera. Ahead of her, her teammates were walking quickly back to the television set; today had just been a walk-around kind of day, with nothing attacking and nothing to do. Not a bad day, overall. Ken and T.K. were laughing over something, Cody was saying something to Veemon and Armadillomon, and Yolei and Davis were preparing to have a race.

Kari wanted to capture the moment. The sun, setting. Her friends, just enjoying themselves.

"Just one moment…" She waited until Davis and Yolei began sprinting, and then took the picture.

Gatomon rolled her eyes, sighing. "Why'd you take a picture of that? Nothing special just happened."

"That's what you think," Kari responded.

After all, she had plenty of pictures of various Digimon and places around the Digiworld. She had started scrapbooking, simply to keep track of everything. Not that she could show anyone those pictures; they would look fake. Monochromon and other such beasts didn't exactly roam freely in her world.

But a picture of her friends simply laughing…she didn't know why she hadn't tried to get something like that before.


It was Tai and Davis' fault.

Oh, Tai blamed Matt, and Davis pointed his finger at Yolei, who then said that Izzy was to blame. Izzy, for his part, simply raised an eyebrow and nodded at Tai, who glared.

Still, no matter who's fault it was, the damage was done. The camera lay on the ground in several pieces.

"I'm really sorry, Kari," Davis apologized.

Kari just smiled and patted his arm. "No worries. I know you didn't mean to break it."

Izzy offered to look at it, but everyone knew that it wouldn't be reparable. So Kari declined and, after the entourage left, she picked up the pieces and put them in a trashcan.

"Want any help?" Tai asked as she was picking up several of the smaller splinters. She shook her head, but her brother was already on the ground beside her, squinting to find the remains.

"It's not bad," Kari said, half to herself, half to her brother. "I save all the files on my computer each night, so the only material I lost were the ones I took of all of us today. And they weren't that worthwhile, anyway."

"Want me to take you to the store tomorrow?" Tai offered. "We can grab Izzy on the way and get him to help find a good new model."

Kari thought for a moment, then shook her head. "You don't need to come. I've got enough money saved up, I think."

"You sure?" Kari nodded. "Well, any problems, just call, okay?"

There were no problems. Kari was sentimental, she was nostalgic, but she was also practical. It was an old camera. She risked it every day taking it to the Digiworld, hoping she didn't break it there.

More than that, it in and of itself wasn't that special. It was just a camera. What it created—the pictures—was what mattered.

And those, she still had.