CHAPTER TWO
The Yagami siblings seemingly sighed in unison. As much as they cared for their excitable friend, it was very much like her to invite herself, and others, into their house.
Tension settled in thick waves around the dining room table, the sound of chopsticks scraping against porcelain bowls being the only refuge for the pair of worried parents. It wasn't like their children to go without talking for long. Both having semi-agreeable personalities aided in their close bond. Well, that, and their trip to the Digital World.
Recently, however, their inside jokes and banter had been replaced with thick static. Hikari, while once a quiet creature, was rendered mute the moment she stepped through the Yagami threshold. Taichi hardly escaped his room and only made an appearance for meal times.
Yuuko, though observant, could not place the sudden shift in her children. She knew that this past battle had been the worst yet, and that the nightmares left her babies screaming into the pitch-black darkness. Her babies needed each other now more than ever, and yet, it seemed that neither spoke a word to the other.
The brunette siblings excused themselves from the table, leaving the blackened tuna melts behind. Many things have changed, but Yuuko's cooking stayed consistent.
Nestled between her rosy pink sheets, Hikari quickly pressed the "reply all" option on her gray device. "Mimi-chan," the message began, "how kind of you to invite everyone over. I will be sure to ask my mom to cater for this event (please, build up your gag reflexes, her cooking has only gotten worse). I'm sure she wouldn't mind if we all hung out; I think she misses you all more than me. Just reply to my e-mail if any of you can make it. Hikari." Her fingers danced across the keyboard, and eventually pressed the dainty "send" button.
Before the device could be laid to rest on her (currently messy, currently disorganized) desk, a small vibration shook her arms. Someone had already replied.
With the cover flipped upwards, mahogany eyes scanned over the pixels, and typed out a quick reply before turning over and falling into a restless slumber.
In the room beside her, a deep frown settled onto tanned skin, an expression the so-called-leader began to wear more often. Despite having faced one of the most difficult tribulations that life had to offer, trying to bridge the distance between himself and Hikari appeared to be a more daunting task. Maintaining the balance between worlds was easy;
His D-Terminal chimed with an incoming message. Frustrated, he ran his calloused fingers through his mop of brown hair. It was the first time in three months that his younger sister had communicated with him, if one could call a group message a valuable source of conversation. Another alert signaled a different response.
From: Hida Iori
To: Everyone
Body: Thank you, Hikari-san, for inviting us! But I believe you forgot to mention your brother in the last message, haha! (Also, consider this my R.S.V.P) Goodnight, everyone!
Taichi didn't hesitate to read his sister's reply:
From: Yagami Hikari
To: Everyone
Body: There was no mistake. Goodnight.
His shoulders, lean and strong from years of football training, slumped. Hikari was upset with him, and there was nothing he could do to remedy that. She knew, just as well as the rest did, that the only way to save the worlds (and themselves) was to sacrifice one of their own. If only she knew how much he hated himself for the murder of a comrade. If only she knew how hr often woke up in a cold sweat, envisioning fluorescent red lights and ragged breaths and one last raise of a hand, stretching, g, until the inevitable thump against a bloodied countertop.
She would never know about her brother's panicked breathes against plexiglass windows and how his fingernails cracked when he tried to scratch his way out. She would never know that her words haunted him, twisting and constricting his heart until he felt as if he couldn't breathe:
"I will never forgive you!"
Takaishi Takeru stared at his popcorn ceiling, his mind tracing out constellations and the bodies of his Digimon friends. His train of thought quickly shifted to those of his human friends. Despite Mimi coming on strong (as per usual), the blonde couldn't stop the excitement that filled his cheeks with a rosy hue. It had been so long since he had seen the others.
The silver cell phone that rested in its owner's gray sweatpants found itself pressed against said cheek, and familiar voice filled the speaker.
"Aniki," Takeru began excitedly, "did you get Mimi-chan's message? Are you excited to see everyone together again?"
A sigh could be heard from the elder brother, though he was not annoyed at his sibling for calling him at such an hour. The first Digital Adventure taught Yamato to be appreciative of the small things, and to never take Takeru for granted.
"Yeah, I got the message, and the replies that came with it. Is everything alright with Hikari?"
Takeru ignored the flutter in his heart at the mention of her name; this wasn't the time. "I'm not sure. To be honest, we haven't spoken much. Since middle school started, we have been in different classes. Whenever we walk home together, we mostly talk about easy things; the past few months have been painful enough. Do you think she could still be mad at Taichi?"
"I think so. You know her better than I do, though. The last time I talked to her, she was eight and the world was ending. Are you going to this get together?" Yamato absent mindedly kicked a pair of dirty boxers that landed amongst crumpled homework assignments and empty soda cans. I'll clean tomorrow, the rock star thought.
"Yeah, I guess so. I really miss all of us hanging out. There used to be a time where our parents couldn't separate the lot of us. I want us to hang out without the threat od he apocalypse hanging over our heads."
"Hmm, I guess you are right. See you tomorrow?"
After the usual closing remarks, Takeru closed his phone. His bed felt empty, however, without the comforting pressure of a small, orange body pressed against his side.
A week passed with uninteresting happenings. The life of the Chosen Children never remained still for long, and things were quickly stirred up by a feisty head of lilac hair. With the return of the memories came the return of other things: banter and sleepovers, and most importantly, important discussion held over greasy fast food.
An uninteresting week did not easily translate into an enjoyable week. With six bodies pressed into a booth, conversation flowed. Iori spoke with a new-found confidence.
"I knew that being in the sixth grade was going to be tough, but I was not expecting so many homework assignments in a week. I'll be working until I'm thirteen, at least." An uncharacteristic sigh escaped his lips, and he rested his chin on his palm.
"Oh, yeah?" Daisuke's rash voice interjected, "Try having to study for midterms. I have six classes, so that means I have to study six times harder than I usually have to."
Hikari and Takeru laughed, but the other four only looked forlorn at their rice balls.
A somber voice broke the atmosphere. "You know, being missing for months has its downfalls. We all may get held back a grade for leaving all of our courses incomplete."
Ken spoke for the first time that evening, "I'm positive things will work out, Miyako. Our parents and the digital detectives have already discussed the matter with the school board, and I am sure that it all will work out." He offered the group a weak smile, and the table sobered up. One could grow up a lot in an impromptu summer.
"Hey, I have an idea," started the lilac-haired female, leaning over Iori's burger, which is in danger of being squashed by her newly developed chest (there was more than one way to grow up in a summer.) "Why don't all of us meet up before Mimi's party and pull names for Secret Santa? I know that we all haven't been on the same page since Ordinemon's death," Hikari visibly winced, "and I feel like this could bring us all a little closer together." Miyako finished; her brazen voice echoed off the diner's walls.
"You know, I think that would be a fun idea. Miyako, send that suggestion to everyone. We could all meet up tonight at the playground that sits right outside of Odaiba Elementary school." Takeru's blonde hair was temporarily swept into a sky-blue beanie, the only evidence of the frosty weather inside the toasty restaurant.
After furiously typing a message into her D-Terminal, Miyako settled back into her seat and adjusted her scarf back into its place. Conversation continued as normal, with the old friends regaling each other on their (happier) times in the Digital World, gracefully dancing around the harder-to-swallow subjects.
The children paid for their meals and subjected themselves to the chilly weather. As icy winds nipped at uncovered skin, six little nose turned differing shades of pink, and they all hurriedly said their goodbyes, and split off into six different directions.
Daisuke shoved his hands into the pockets of his winter coat, and was bombarded by mental images of a jacket adorned with appliqué flames. His fingers tingles, and he became all too aware of the puffy, pink trails on his abdomen. The worse of the blisters had already burst, leaving pinpricks of shiny, purple flesh in their wake. Flamedramon hadn't meant to miss the orange flash of fur, but it ran so fast and it was hard to focus, so the Digimon fired at will, hoping the attack made contact with something (and, oh, it did).
His hand-me-down goggles took the brunt of his fall, cracking on impacts. The shock momentarily blocked the lapping of a fiery tounge against his soft skin, but agony soon followed. In the back of his mind, his pre-school teacher begged him to stop, drop, and roll, but he couldn't focus. The smell of charred flesh wafted towards his nose, forcing his stomach to contract in painful dry heaves. Shrill scream echoes off the digital forest, and bile rose in his throat. He remembered trying to stand on his feet, but his melted flesh adhered to the dirt below him. Daisuke never considered himself to be a religious man, but when white circles clouded his vision, the screams were replaced with prayers.
The brunette stilled himself against a light post, shaking as these images invaded his mind. He expected nightmares and found some comfort in the consistency of their arrival. Flashbacks left him staggering, unsure of where he was or who he was with.
Coming to, his chocolatey brown eyes were met with a stranger's concerned gaze.
"Young man, are you okay? Do I need to call someone to come and get you?" the woman asked.
Daisuke didn't bother with a response, and ran the rest of the way home.