Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.
Digimon Trinity
Chapter: 167/ Episode: 24: Responsibility
Impmon floated amidst the glowing void, sinking further and further down into its light as numbers, letters and equations hovered about. He moaned softly and cracked open his eyes. It wasn't quite the sight he expected – or even remembered – from the last time he entered the dimensional distortion that lay between the worlds. He wondered if that meant something important.
"Have I died and gone to heaven?" he asked the void around him. He half expected to get a response from the voice that had called him back over, promising him power. Promising him with the digivolution that evaded him for so long while blessing Renamon and her companions. No voice came to answer his questions though and all that he heard was the sound of electrical pops and clicks.
"Wait a minute… In heaven I'm supposed to feel like a million bucks! But I feel like a turkey with the stuffing beat out of it."
He cringed as he attempted to move. The wireframe of his data was still badly bruised and battered, not wanting to endure any kind of shifting no matter how weightless he felt in the sea of warm light.
"Oh well. At least I know I'm alive."
Alive. He supposed he ought to be grateful for at least that much. After what Indramon had done to him, he was lucky to have gotten away in just this condition. Now if that voice made good on its promise to him to return him to the power he had previously. The power he had as a Demon Lord before defeat robbed him of both it and his past.
"Do you really think it will do you any good? Can you really trust it? What will it cost you?"
That other voice emerged from the depths of his being, soft and as exhausted sounding as he himself felt. He tried to remember when he last heard it.
Right. Once. Down in the tunnels. And then it didn't talk to me again.
"What do you care?" he asked, feeling a bit of anger flashing through him. "You wouldn't talk to me after I got slugged. Is it because I'm a Demon Lord? Because I'm something special? Who are you anyway?"
The voice didn't respond and Impmon let out a tired sigh, suddenly feeling dreadfully alone.
Why… Why does it have to be like this?
"What did I do wrong?" he asked the void quietly. "I wanted to be stronger. Is it wrong to think that way?"
He wondered about that. If the old stories were true, that had been his thinking back when he had been a rampaging Demon Lord. Or something to that effect, desiring to possess whatever he wanted. That desire had followed him to the next life as well, like it had been programmed into him.
"In the end, I'm just data," he said, his expression falling at that. For some reason, that left him feeling sad. "Does that mean I'm more suited for this world?"
The light clicked and buzzed about him. Its only answer to his questions as he continued to sink into its embracing depths.
###
Takato gazed out the window, his pencil tapping on his notebook and the crude sketches that marred its open pages. He didn't want to look at them now. They showcased all his inner worries. Broken buildings and black smoke rising above them while below stick figures lay scattered all throughout the streets. Some of them obscured now by the addition of a fallen building on top of them. And among them all, Makuramon, a vicious, fanged grin, holding onto Calumon, who openly wept and called for help. Impmon lay next to them. His fate remained unknown.
He's got to be alive, he thought, his crimson eyes sweeping across the expanse of clear blue sky. He's got to be!
He wanted to feel certain of that, but the last two battles left him with doubts gnawing away at him. Impmon was a Rookie after all, and he had been swatted away by an Ultimate across many blocks. On top of that, he had been badly injured as well. Close to deletion even. In all likelihood, Takato felt Impmon had died in that impact with the unfeeling street, just like so many other people had died during Vikaralamon's rampage and the invasion of his army.
In spite of himself, Takato glanced back down at his drawings and pressed his lips together tightly. The stick figures, though crude, told him of the lives that were lost yesterday. He wondered who they had been. He supposed he could find out, given enough time and research, but did he dare?
Would that make all of this…too real? he found himself wondering.
"In order to identify the conclusion, let's be careful in the change of topics," he heard Ms. Asaji say as she made her circuit along the desk aisle across from his. Distractedly, a part of him said to flip over the page and begin writing notes for the lesson, but he found himself unable to do so. The very notion of flipping the paper felt far more difficult than it should have been. Those stick figures held his attention and he couldn't break it. "Depending on which composition…"
Her droning drifted out of his attention and he closed his eyes. Images from yesterday's battle replayed themselves through his mind. The fear. The doubts. The thunder. The heat. His fingers tightened about his pencil until his knuckles grew white. The wood groaned with the strain.
"Is my lesson really that boring?"
Ms. Asaji's voice broke him out of his trans and Takato's pencil snapped in his grip, the eraser toppling down and landing atop one of the stick figures prostrate next to a building. Takato, missing this, jolted to his feet. She was there. His teacher was very suddenly there! Somehow she snuck up on him without him noticing!
"N-No!" he stammered out guiltily. He tried to look at her but found himself unable to do so. "I'm sorry, Ms. Kamiya."
Ms. Asaji cocked an eyebrow at that and, blushing, Takato quickly corrected himself.
"Asaji. I mean Ms. Asaji. Sorry."
Ms. Asaji sighed and shook her head, deciding to ignore this small slip. She had heard about how closely she resembled her predecessor – from Mr. Mori especially – and she also heard about Takato's vivid imagination and lack of attentiveness. A fairly easy and forgiveable slipup this early in her tutelage of the boy and his classmates.
Especially with everything that's going on, she added mentally, taking in his 'doodles' and easily guessing what was on his mind. Well, guess I shouldn't be surprised, but he ought to remember his responsibilities.
"It might not bother you," she began, turning away and walking down the aisle toward the front, "but it's a problem for me. I don't want the average score of this class to go down in the standard tests."
"I'm sorry," Takato answered, hanging his head. Two rows down, Jeri watched the scene unfold, her amber eyes glittering with a gleaming ember of sympathy, determination and defiance.
This isn't right, she thought as Ms. Asaji drew up behind her desk. He's been through so much already and she should know that he's a Tamer. Why is she doing this to him? How can she think about average class scores at a time like this?
She could think of a few reasons. It was the way of adults, she knew, to push through difficult times and try to continue with an appearance of 'normalcy,' as her father at times did. If failing with a façade, it was considered the responsibility of adults to continue to push being at their best in the spheres that they maintained; doing their part to uphold society in times of crisis. It was a responsibility that, she supposed, children had as well.
That didn't change that it felt unfair to Jeri. Ms. Asaji knew – should know – Takato's responsibilities as a Tamer were different from his responsibilities as a child.
Maybe Ms. Asaji doesn't care? Or maybe she just doesn't see the difference. Maybe to her, it's another lesson she thinks she needs to teach him.
Jeri frowned slightly at that. She couldn't fault her thinking in that regard, but she didn't like it either.
"You'll stay after class and write a reflection essay," Ms. Asaji continued, looking at Takato imperiously. "Pull your act together already. You're in sixth grade now."
That did it. Something inside Jeri snapped and at once her hand went up, followed swiftly by the rest of her as she rose to her feet.
"Ms. Asaji! I wasn't paying attention to the lesson either."
The brown-haired teacher looked at Jeri, utterly baffled by this unexpected course shift in her lesson. She expected Takato to simply accede to her order, slump back down in his desk and everything would continue from there like normal. Jeri had caught her completely flatfooted and a quick search of the brunette's fiery gaze revealed nothing as to why she was doing so. Nothing save for a defiance. A command even to do to her as she was doing to Takato.
Kazu now stood up in the back of the row between the two students, joining his voice to theirs. "And I was…taking a nap!"
The excuse would have sounded lame even if Ms. Asaji didn't know it for the lie that it was. He most certainly had not been taking a nap when she checked in with him minutes ago. And why was he winking at Takato?
"Ah, I was thinking about something else!" Kenta chimed in, rising up behind Ayaka Itou, the copper-haired girl mirroring Ms. Asaji's increasing befuddlement at the situation. What was going on here?
"It's an all-out…mutiny," she stammered out in realization. They must be Takato's friends. Of course. And as his friends, they would stand in solidarity with him. Foolish sounding, as they were children, but it was the only thing that made sense. Well, if that were the case, then there could only be one response so as to reestablish order before things got out of hand.
"All of you… Stand in the hallway!" Yelling now, she stabbed a hand in the direction of the classroom doorway. "All four of you are staying and writing a reflection essay after class!"
As one, the four students filed outside without complaint.
###
"This is the noblest thing I have ever done," Kazu grinned smugly, throwing his back against the wall and folding his arms behind his head. Kenta chuckled, taking up his spot by his side.
"Dude, you just wanted to cut class."
"Whatever," Kazu shrugged nonchalantly. "As far as I'm concerned, they're one and the same. We're going to the digital world anyway, so what's it matter if we get a detention or two?"
"Speaking of which," Kenta continued, pushing up his glasses, "it's the first time for you, right Jeri? Being sent out here, I mean."
Takato gazed at Jeri's beaming face as she nodded, and he felt a warm blush grow across his features. She had stood up for him and to their teacher no less! Not quite what he expected from her. Up until Leomon entered her life, she didn't normally rock the boat like this.
"This could be our last lesson, right?" she asked suddenly, still smiling. Takato's blush slipped away at this and he tilted his head at her. The mood of the group sobered a little. Kazu didn't look the least bit fazed, but Kenta lost a bit of his own smile, becoming introspective, an expression matched somewhat by Jeri, though hers held a bit more of an excited look.
"Summer…is already over," she said softly. Takato frowned questioningly at her.
"Is that… Are you quoting from something?" he asked. Summer had been over for a while now and they were almost in October. Or maybe they already were and he had missed the calendar in all the confusion from the fighting. He'd have to check later.
"Just something I remember my mother saying once," Jeri replied, looking at Takato with a happy smile. "I think it was when something big happened in her life. I don't know what though, but it just kind of fits."
She shrugged. "Sorry if that sounds weird."
Blushing again under her gaze, Takato scratched at the side of his face.
"No, it's not weird at all. It's…kind of cool actually."
"Oh, yuck," Kazu laughed, feigning disgust. "Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'll be glad to see the back of this place. Man, how much longer until the other Digidestined find a way to the digital world? I'm stoked!"
Takato looked away, not answering. Without a cellphone, they had no way of knowing until they saw Izzy or Ken.
And now we're all stuck in detention because of me. He balled his fists up in self-recrimination as he thought back to all his earlier worries and doubts. Ms. Asaji's right. I'm in the sixth grade now. It's time I pulled my act together.
###
"According to the Ministry of Information's Network Administration Bureau, the massive damage to the Shinjuku area caused by the appearance of several digimon was an isolated incident that would not be repeated. Apparently, the rampage was due to incompetence of a certain network official who has since been reprimanded. When questioned further about the numerous incidents involving digimon in the last month, the ministry would not comment. However, the Ministry announced that they took this event extremely seriously, and they are looking for its causes as well as preventative measures, or so the chief secretary announced. Now in other news…"
Takeru barely heard the news report from his television, or the ringing of his telephone, as he sat on his couch, his laptop and various computer equipment laid out on his table before him, accompanied by mashed cigarette butts in ashtrays. His lungs felt like a hot mess. He had never smoked before, and in the fit of his anxieties, built up to the screaming point from everything that had happened in the last twelve hours or so, he decided to follow in his father's example.
He gave a light cough, on one part regretting doing so and on the other understanding why his father had developed the habit in the first place. He still felt the tension, but it felt controlled. Leashed. He knew it was temporary. The cigarettes gave only a façade of calm; covering the symptoms without actually treating the root cause. Nonetheless, he felt a bit better for it.
Not that it changed anything. Even the caller recognized that as his cellphone flashed a call number, but no voicemail.
Years of work. Research. My brilliant plan to wipe out the Dark Ocean… All flushed down the toilet. Failure does not become me.
Defeat. Complete and utter defeat. Hypnos was out of commission. The firewall lay damaged and many Digidestined were badly injured. Davis especially.
Without him, there won't be any Imperialdramon. The world's most powerful digimon won't be of any use now. And it's all because of me.
He heaved a sigh. The irony was not lost on him. He had spent his entire life defending the human and digital worlds from the Darkness, and in the end, he had been the greatest weapon against all that he cared about. With everything laid bare, it seemed there was nothing left to do but to wait for the end. Maybe go down fighting, but the Darkness' victory was most certainly assured. And it would be the final victory. There would be no new light to shine in that darkness that would cover all three worlds. No rebellion save from other sources of darkness jockeying for power.
He closed his eyes beneath his sunglasses. A part of him wondered if there could be something to turn the tide, but for the life of him he couldn't think of anything.
It's over, he told himself. Just accept it.
He heard a knocking on his front door, followed by a muffled voice that sounded like a calling of his name. He ignored it. Whoever it was, it was far preferable if they thought he just wasn't in and left him alone. He didn't want to see anyone.
Another knock. Followed by another, louder call. More muffled voices, indicating that there was more than one person there. And one of them sounded strange.
Is that kansai dialect?
He didn't have long to contemplate that before an enraged, animalistic roar bellowed outside. This was followed by a heavy, reverberating crack and in the next instant Takeru saw his door fly off its hinges, a wide crack splitting along its surface where a foot had connected like a sledgehammer. Immediately, Takeru shot to his feet, his eyes looking about for something with which to defend himself. However, a quick look at what lay behind the door told him that nothing he could have had would help him.
Very few things could once Yolei Ichijouji was on the warpath.
"You didn't have to do that," came Cody's voice as the woman hobbled her way in, favoring one foot with a grimace.
"Of course, I didn't, but I feel good doing it anyway," came Yolei's snappy response. Behind her, Hawkmon sighed.
"It seems your foot disagrees with you," he said.
"Oh, trust me. It'll change its mind once I shove it up a certain Digidestined's ass." Leaning against the wall, Yolei's eyes quickly locked with Takeru. The blond-haired head of Hypnos, former child of Hope, felt the urgency wash out of him and he sat back down.
"Ichijouji," he greeted. "Hida."
"Hello, Takeru," Cody returned with a nod as he and the digimon followed after Yolei, the woman hopping a short way before coming to a rest in front of her former superior. She tsked at seeing him and the way he sat at the couch. It was as if he had given up completely.
"So, you're just going to sit here and mope?" she asked scornfully. Takeru harumphed at that.
"Well now, that sounds like a brilliant idea. There's nothing I can do anymore and I seem to have made quite the mess of things."
"You made a mess of things because you thought you could handle it all on your own!" Yolei exploded. She stomped toward him, only to cringe as pain shot up her ankle. Cody was by her side right away, wrapping an arm about her waist and supporting her weight.
"I've got you," he said before fixing Takeru with a hard, reproachful look.
"She's right you know," he said.
"Goddamn, I'm right," Yolei seethed. "He took away everything we needed to keep what was happening from happening and…and look at what's happened!"
"Yolei…"
"Don't 'Yolei' me, Cody! Or you, Hawkmon!" She made a growling noise and glared at Takeru. "Just let me get one good kick in! I'm done holding back! I've played nice for way too long now!"
"Not with your ankle the way it is," Cody pointed out. Yolei made a grumbling sound, clearly convinced that her foot would fight its way through the pain long enough to find its way over to Takeru. She pulled against her friend's grip, but Cody held fast, long experience with her tempers coming to him as though they were teenagers again and back in middle school.
"Takeru… TK," Cody continued, deciding to get straight to the point. "Kari has gone missing."
That got a reaction out of Takeru. Straight away, his back went rigid and his eyes focused on them. Even with his sunglasses, the way his eyebrows knotted up suggested an attentiveness that hadn't been there before. Cody pressed on hurriedly before he could regroup.
"We think the Dark Ocean might have captured her again following the events of last night. According to Yolei, Izzy says there are tears forming throughout the city. Some kind of effect either from the digimon attack or your weapon or both. I don't know. Either way, someone is using it to their advantage and targeted Kari."
"Assuming that is that Kari's not having trouble with her cellphone still."
"That's been clearing up," Yolei grumped, still attempting to disentangle herself from Cody's grasp. "She would have called us back by now. Besides, you think this guy has any right now to help us or even try and help Kari after everything he's been pulling these last few months?"
"Yolei…" This time from Hawkmon. Yolei shot an angry, dagger-filled glare at her partner, but the feathered digimon remained undaunted. "Yolei," he continued. "Don't you think this goes against everything you've professed to believe in? Remember, you married Ken and forgave him for everything he did as the Digimon Emperor."
"That was different!" Yolei exclaimed just as Takeru nodded.
"She's right," he said, earning him a series of raised eyebrows. "Ken was influenced by Milleniummon's Dark Spore. Everything he did during that time was informed by that influence. Everything I did was a conscious choice with no other influence except from myself."
"Well… At least someone sounds like he's woken up," Yolei said after a moment.
Takeru found himself surprised by how calm he sounded. Inwardly, he was a mess. Kari…captured again? By the Dark Ocean? His mind raced, refusing to surrender; to fail as he had before.
But Ichijouji's right. I don't have the right to try and save her anymore. I'm not her friend. I haven't been her friend in years. I am responsible for everything that's happened to her now. There's no guarantee that I'll be able to make everything better by involving myself.
Hawkmon however didn't look the least bit convinced. Neither did Cody.
"Even if she's right, you can't just close yourself off again," he said. "Isn't that how things turned out this way to begin with?"
"We were a team, once," Hawkmon nodded.
"Not to mention a far better one than that stinky ol' Hypnos or whatever it is you were in," Armadillomon chimed in. "Why, I bet if we worked together like we used to, we'd be all set to win this thing and rescue Kari! There's got to be something, right?"
Takeru's brow furrowed, their words hitting a chord in the urgency blazing up from within him. Something they could do? There wasn't. The prophecy had made that certain. There was nothing that the Digidestined could…
Actually… Maybe there is something I can do.
Without saying a word, he turned his laptop toward him and called up the profiles of the three Tamers. The ones who had been central to the defeat of the Nightmare Soldiers during the 'Summer War,' as the incident had come to be called in certain circles.
The prophecy…
He called that file up too and began to skim it. There was a plan in there, and with it, key events to watch out for. He wasn't entirely certain about much of it. The further into the future one went, the chancier prophecies became, which had been why he gambled on Juggernaut to end it all for good. But with Juggernaut no longer an option, that only left the Trinity. The 'Primary Colors.'
The Dreamer. The Princess. The Machina. Yes. Perhaps… Perhaps it was far better to rely on these three after all.
"Great," Yolei sighed, watching the man disappear into his thoughts and plans and counterplans. "Now, he's not even listening to us. Let me go, Cody. I've still got a bone to pick with him."
"You'll do no such thing, Yolei," Hawkmon said, waving a feathered finger at his partner.
"At least wait and see what plan he comes up with," added Armadillomon. "For all we know, it might be helpful."
Yolei turned to Cody. He shook his head.
"I think it's better this way. At least, if we get his help, and I mean really get his help, we'll be better off for it."
The woman huffed. "Fine. His ass-kicking has been postponed. But I'm still going to lodge my foot up there one of these days. That's a promise."
Takeru made a final, loud tapping noise on his laptop and then looked up.
"Get me Izzy."
7
