Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.
V-D Day
A Digimon Tamers story by: Crazyeight
A brown-haired boy gazed at his reflection in the bathroom mirror as though he were looking at a complete stranger. The face he recognized as his own. The slightly tanned skin, the brown hair that was held back from his eyes by a pair of yellow-rimmed goggles seated on his forehead. The odd, red-colored irises that were currently full of slight anxiety mingled with eagerness. It was him in every sense. The very same Takato Matsuki that got up every day, went to school and saw his friends, but at the same time, the eyes that looked back at him were different from what they should have been. A boy of thirteen going on forty, as it would appear.
As if to add still more age to him, Takato's eyes glanced down at the dark blue tie wrapped around his neck, framed by the white, button shirt, deep-blue vest and blue coat. He tugged at the tie. It didn't discomfort him, but it gave him something to do while his brain thought things out.
"It's sure been a long time, but not as long as you think," he murmured to himself.
"What did you say, Takato?"
Takato glanced over at a tall, red-colored, thickly built, dinosaur-like creature standing next to him, claws piling cream around his face. Takato frowned.
"Guilmon… Didn't Dad tell you not to mess around with his shaving cream?"
The red creature tilted his head to one side, gold eyes blinking questioningly. "Yes, that's why I'm using the soap," he said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Takato gave a soft chuckle and smiled at the reptile.
"I'm pretty sure Mom told you to not play around with that too, boy," he added.
The ears on Guilmon's head, shaped like little bat-wings, drooped in recollection. "Ohhh… But I was just trying to get all clean for the party."
"Yeah, but you're supposed to use it for washing, not to wear it," Takato laughed. He paused to look at the creature for a moment in consideration. It was hard to believe that almost two years ago he had created Guilmon – a digital life form known as a digimon and his best friend and partner – with little more than his crude drawings and the miraculous digivice born from the alternate reality world formed from the Earth's Internet, the Digital world. Even harder to believe that he would actually visit that plane of existence and fight off not just digimon bent on world domination, but also a malevolent entity known as the D-Reaper. All in the time span of a year. And now, here he and Guilmon stood, two years later.
"Takato?" Guilmon prompted, seeing his hesitation. "What's wrong? I thought you were getting ready. But you're just standing there."
"I am, I'm just thinking about where all the time went, that's all." He smiled and his reflection smiled back at him. He was almost fourteen. The shape of his head was a little less round than before, thanks to puberty, but it was clear he took after his mom more than his father. He wondered if Rika would keep calling him 'Little Boy' because of that no matter how old he got.
Could be worse, he chuckled mentally as a soft blush rose unknowingly to his cheeks at the thought of his friend, Rika Nonaka, the self-styled 'Digimon Queen.'
"It really has been two years though, hasn't it?"he continued aloud. "I guess I'm just wondering if I'm really the same me as I was then? Or am I different?"
Guilmon cocked an eyebrow in further confusion before leaning toward the boy and gave him a sniff.
"You smell like you've always smelled since I first met you. Did you smell different before you drew me?"
"Ah…" Takato scratched the side of his face uncertainly, unsure of how to answer that. This conversation had taken an unexpected turn. "I don't think so? I mean, I'm pretty sure I did anyway…"
"Takatooo!" came the call from his father downstairs. "Are you coming or what?"
"Ah!" the boy jumped, startled. "Yeah, we'll be right down."
Deciding that he had delayed long enough, he turned away from the bathroom mirror.
"How come you were asking if you're still the same you?" Guilmon asked, trailing behind him as the pair made their downstairs where his parents were waiting. "I'm still me whenever I digivolve, so why not you?"
Takato paused a step and looked at his partner with surprise. Coming to a halt himself, Guilmon cocked his head to one side questioningly.
"What? Did I say something wrong?"
"No, it's just…" Takato shook his head. "You always have a way of looking at things so clearly while I just get mixed up in my head sometimes. Maybe Rika's right and I'm just overthinking things."
"Hmmm… So, she's right again? She's been getting things right about you a lot lately. Do you think she's learning from Renamon? Because she's always right."
Takato couldn't help but laugh at that. Resuming his walk down the stairs, he thought again of the fire-haired girl he called his best human friend. Of all the others, she had changed the most. Two years ago, if someone had suggested that the two of them would grow as close as they did, he would have looked at them as if they had grown a second head.
Funny how things work out, he mused, joining his parents at the door leading to their bakery.
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"This is so stupid."
A golden-furred, blue-eyed, fox digimon looked up as a girl with red hair tied up into a stiff, spiky ponytail emerged from her room, her violet eyes set in an annoyed frown. This was hardly new to Renamon. It was uncommon that Rika wasn't annoyed over something and in this case, the answer appeared obvious at first glance. Renamon traced her eyes over the girl, taking note of the black dress she wore and its light, thin, almost translucent sleeves and flared cuffs and collar. An unusual outfit for her to be wearing, but one that Rika herself had picked out in preparation for the upcoming event. Rika wasn't a fan of dresses or skirts but did wear them on occasion for special occasions such as this.
In the time that they had been partners however, Rika's vocal frustrations were often a cover for something else that bothered her. What that was, however, took time to tease out, and needed to be done with care.
Renamon's eyes narrowed briefly, and an image of a crimson-eyed boy with a thick mop of hair held back by goggles came to mind. A small smile curved on the vulpine digimon's lips, barely visible to all but the most attentive observers.
"Don't laugh, Renamon," Rika said upon passing her, not even bothering to look at her. Such was their long association that both rarely needed to read the other's mind to know what they were thinking.
"You know I wouldn't in this case," the kitsune replied, falling into step by the girl's side. Rika hmphed, clearly not convinced.
"Yeah, but you want to. I know that look. You're thinking about how ridiculous I look in this getup, aren't you?"
A soft smile once again graced Renamon's features, this time more visible.
"I think you look quite beautiful, Rika, as I'm sure the others will as well."
A dark blush rose up on Rika's cheeks and bowing her head like an angry bull about to charge, she picked up her pace.
"I don't care what they think!" she snapped. "This is so stupid! Why'd Yamaki insist on making this a public event anyway? We did it privately last year and we didn't have to get all fancy about it!"
Renamon withheld her response. Both knew the answer to Rika's question. The first anniversary of the D-Reaper's defeat had been initially private to maintain the secrecy that digimon – the Tamers' digimon specifically – had returned from the digital world. Human society, still rather traumatized by the events of the D-Reaper and the Devas, was deemed not ready for that knowledge becoming public so soon. A fact only reinforced when, barely a month later, an invasion by the parasitic Parasimon, blew the lid off beyond any hope of a maintaining the coverup.
Renamon thought back to those uncertain times. How Rika and Henry found Takato moping in the rain, waiting for the government's decision regarding their partners' presence in the real world. Guilmon was holding a leaf over the boy's head, trying, and failing, to keep him dry. The protests and anger-filled debates. The anti-digimon movement that sprang up as a result and, consequently, the problems that stalked the Tamers. In some cases, literally.
There were times where the vulpine digimon had wondered if it had been a good idea to return to their partners' sides. How different would the world have turned out without them?
Impossible to know, she thought. And not to mention, impossible to even try. What was it that Seiko said? Once Pandora's box had been opened, there was no closing it again?
Renamon felt her lips curve into a small smile again as her gaze fell upon Rika's advancing back.
Not that I could ever remain separate from her, she added mentally, her tail swishing behind her.
The pair soon met up with two other women, Rika's mother and grandmother – Rumiko Nonaka and Seiko Hata respectively. Seiko wore a traditional Japanese kimono while Rumiko was decked out in a light, layered dress of alternating, delicately-sewn fluff that flared at the edges. Rika repressed a grimace at her mother's appearance. Not that the dress made her appear terrible to look at – far from it – but rather how obviously it would draw attention to her.
Mom has a way of being the center of attention, she thought, her expression relaxing. Though come to think about it, if she keeps all the attention off me and my friends, then I can live with this.
"Ready to go?" Rumiko asked, her smirk suggesting she was looking forward to this little outing. Rika nodded reluctantly.
"As ready as I'll ever be," she replied. "Let's get this over with."
As the family exited their home, Rika found herself wondering what kind of ridiculous getup the others would be wearing. She gave a light, dry chuckle.
Can't be any worse than Gogglehead's, she mused sarcastically.
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A/N: I'm a little late getting around to this, but I figured I'd put something out to celebrate the 20th anniversary of Digimon Tamers. This will be primarily a collection of short pieces looking at each of the Tamers and their musings on where they might go using the Runaway Locomon film as a starting point with a light splash of Rukato for those fans of the ship. There's no real, overarching narrative here. It's meant primarily to have fun and be a small dip back into the water that I've neglected since June. Hope you all liked this brief chapter and I'll see you in the next one.
-Crazyeight
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