Digital Shuffle
By famirad
Disclaimer: Don't own Digimon, this fanfic is for fun.
Author's Note: Again, an AUish take on Digimon Tamers. Basically assumes Digimon Tamers was the "best" outcome of a number of possible outcomes, which means this take is a different one. Yamaki confronts Nagamora, Alice tells everyone about her grandfather and a "digital shuffle", and Ryo has a strange dream.
I've removed the fanart links to remove clutter, but if you're interested in seeing them, hit me up with a PM.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Digital Shuffle
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
(Break it Down)
Yamaki was well over the speed limit.
All he could think about was that video, replaying before his eyes. His hands gripped the steering wheel. Nagamora was behind all of this. It was his fault Junko died like that, his fault Yamaki could do little but obsess over Digimon for the next four years.
But the idea he'd been doing it next to a traitor made him writhe inwardly with self-hatred.
Why didn't he see this? How did he let this continue for years, right under his nose?
Yamaki managed to get his rage bottled down for the moment as he tried to formulate a plan. He couldn't just go in there screaming for vengeance and waving a gun over his head. All that would do was alert Nagamora and scare the living daylights out of the graveyard shift. He'd have to make his move when he was alone with the other man. Maybe during this "imperative" meeting. The rooms are soundproofed, so why not?
All he cared about was getting to Nagamora and dealing with him. He should've done it earlier, but he couldn't have known the man was a traitor like that. The image of the Nagamora and Musyamon standing there and talking while he bled, unconscious between them, resurfaced. Yamaki had never experienced a burning rage like this. He thought he had, but this was another beast entirely. It pervaded every corner of his being. It brought back all those past memories with startling clarity even as the present blurred before him.
He reached the Tokyo Metropolis Government Office Building within minutes of leaving his apartment. Yamaki didn't even bother to lock his car as he parked and hurried toward the entrance of the lobby with long, impatient strides. The lobby guard sleepily glanced up as Yamaki stepped in through the doors. He blinked in blurry surprise: first at his unexpected appearance and then noticing that he was without his customary sunglasses. Yamaki looked like a different man without them.
"Morning, sir," the guard touched the brim of his cap in a gesture of respect as Yamaki passed him, shoes clipping neatly on the tiles. "You're here early today."
"I know. Got some business to take care of," Yamaki paused and then came back to the desk. The guard was vaguely startled to find Yamaki's eyes were green, not blue like he'd bet long ago with some friends for pocket change. "Which floor is Ataru Nagamora on?"
The guard leafed through the registrar. He stifled a yawn behind one hand. "Seventeenth floor, conference room 30A."
"Thanks."
Yamaki gave a curt nod and left for the elevators. The doors dinged shut behind him. Standing alone, he checked his shoulder holster. Snug and it released the pistol without any hitches. He'd be able to have it out and aimed within seconds. He had every intention of giving Nagamora the same chance Yamaki's niece had been given.
None.
Yamaki straightened his suit's jacket. His face was as coldly impassive as it had been when he talked briefly with the lobby guard. Whatever peace he felt physically, he felt none within. Memories of what he hadn't, could've, should've done four years ago; his niece's last look. Nagamora's words through the darkness haunted him as the elevator eventually came to a halt on the seventeenth floor of Hypnos' headquarters.
Yamaki stepped out. He made sure his holstered pistol was hidden before continuing down the halls. The corridors were silent, the hums of the central air the only sounds aside from the soft rasp of his shoes against the carpet. Every few feet, meager light spilled out from every other overhead light. He made his way toward the conference room, every fiber within his body tensing with each step as he got closer and closer to his goal.
Conference 30A.
The door was shut but light seeped out from under it. Nagamora was definitely in there. Making sure his face didn't betray his intentions, Yamaki reached for the handle and let himself in. He stopped short, his eyes narrowing at the small group inside the large conference room.
Nagamora wasn't alone. The suited man sat in the chair at the head of the black table, his utterly nondescript face turned toward one of his other companions, who poured him a cup of tea with her gloved hands. Yamaki hesitated. He hadn't known there were going to be more people in this meeting. From his impression, it was going to be just Nagamora and him. He quickly glanced at the two other people in the conference room and somehow managed to keep his face neutral.
Why Kincaid was here, he couldn't even begin to guess. The American wasn't dressed in her normal tech's outfit: the silver-eyed woman wore a tight black dress cut several inches above her knees that was more than a little inappropriate, her short purple hair pulled up into a pony-tail as she faced him. She offered a smile as she flashed her bare legs mockingly at him. Yamaki ignored her.
As for the other one, Yamaki knew he'd seen him before. He was little more than a boy, a small, thinly built kid with a shock of chestnut-hair held back from his face with yellow goggles. For some reason the kid was glowering at Yamaki from his position behind Kincaid with barely concealed hostility in his wide blue eyes.
Suddenly he realized where he'd seen this boy before.
One of those children with those Digimon. I met this one…
Confusion almost overshadowed his initial fury.
"Good morning. Come on in," Kincaid gave an imitation of a bow. "Mr. Nagamora's been waiting for you, sir."
Paranoid or not, Yamaki knew a trap when he saw one. This wasn't some casual meeting. But he couldn't let himself turn and leave, not with what he'd seen only a few minutes ago. Besides, he'd done plenty of stupid things in the past knowing full well the consequences. The stakes were only higher this time. Yamaki stepped in, shutting the door behind him. Would he have to take out Kincaid too? His eyes flicked carefully over the three people in the room. Not the boy – he didn't even know what the kid was doing here – but definitely Nagamora. Kincaid if she tried to stop him. Just those two. He would never hurt a kid.
"It's 3 AM," Yamaki replied with his usual sourness. "What do you want this time?"
Nagamora took a sip of his tea. He beckoned him closer. "We need to talk."
Yamaki moved to stand behind his usual seat, but didn't sit down. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Kincaid circled around the other side of table with the tea pot, maneuvering herself innocently toward him. The goggle-headed boy watched her with an almost hungry expression. Yamaki pretended to be blind to all of this.
"About what?" Yamaki declined Nagamora's gesture for him to sit, not caring if he was rude. "It better be quick. I'd like to go back and get some sleep."
"Trust me, this won't take long. It's just that I've been finding your conduct as of late as being…troublesome."
"And? You didn't need to wake me up to tell me this."
Kincaid had rounded the end of the long table. The boy with blue eyes continued to stare after her, fidgeting slightly.
Nagamora took another sip from his tea. "See, the thing is, you weren't asleep," he set the cup down. "You should know better than to try to hack into my personal networks. Even you can't get in without getting caught."
"Are we done with the wrist-slaps?"
Nagamora almost smiled. "Almost."
Kincaid set down the tea pot a few chairs away from Yamaki and started to pull off her gloves. Under the pretense he was crossing his arms over his chest, Yamaki carefully inched the pistol out from its holster. He'd have a clear shot at Nagamora before the American could possibly react. Wishing the boy near Nagamora would scoot over a few feet away so he wouldn't risk hitting the kid, Yamaki continued the charade:
"Good, because I'm not done yet."
"Is that so?"
Nagamora raised an eyebrow curiously. He made the barest of motions with his hand and Kincaid didn't move any closer to Yamaki. How polite. He's letting me talk, Yamaki thought sarcastically. By now he managed to slide the pistol free without drawing attention to himself.
"You remember our first meeting, right?"
Nagamora nodded.
Yamaki almost shot him right there for pretending to be so innocent.
"You were at the hospital after the accident – "
"I wasn't talking about the time at the hospital."
Realization dawned on Nagamora, registered on his face before he fixed an impassive stare on Yamaki. His fingers twitched slightly in a different gesture at Kincaid. Yamaki burst into action before the American could get any closer. He whipped out his pistol and aimed at Nagamora's head, his arm a blur.
But Nagamora had moved inhumanly fast, his hand closing over the gun barrel with the speed of a striking viper. Yamaki fired anyway.
There was an explosion from the gun as the bullet came blasting out.
It hit the simple ring on his hand and ricocheted off, taking off one of Nagamora's fingers instead of planting itself into his skull. Yamaki jerked his gun free of Nagamora's grasp so he'd get a second shot. Chaos erupted in the conference room.
Nagamora's mouth opened. A deafening roar of pain emerged from him as his finger vanished without any blood. The inhuman sound bounced violently off the walls as the ring that had been around his missing finger disintegrated into a puff of gold and purple dust. The man vanished into thin air as a large monster burst upward from where Nagamora stood.
Three horns protruded from the large creature's black head, his snout lengthening to a black ox's. His chest and arms bulged out with powerful muscles as his head hit the ceiling with a thud that shook the entire floor. Crimson armor coated his massive body as four cloven hooves splayed out from under Nagamora's thick torso and crushed the chair under him into splinters of plastic and wood. A tail lashed behind him and he let loose another pained roar from between his fangs. One of his large, powerful hands was missing a finger.
Yamaki froze. His eyes widened in shock.
Nagamora had never been human.
He'd been working alongside a Digimon the entire time.
That was the last conscious thought Yamaki had as Kincaid sprang up behind him. Her bare hands glowing red, she pressed the tips of her fingers onto the back of his head. Yamaki crumpled at her touch and the loaded pistol fell to the carpet.
It ended in less then a minute.
Kincaid stepped over Yamaki's still form and rushed to the Founder's side. Kaminmon had gotten there first: he'd started to change back into his real form the moment Yamaki moved, but he hadn't gotten much farther then having his fingers meld together into awkward claw-stumps, the beginnings of his head wings only feathery nubs. But despite that, he still tried to tend to Vajramon.
"Let me rip the human to pieces, my lord!" the half-shaped Takato pleaded.
Vajramon shook his long snout, holding his wounded hand to his chest and snarling. "No, this can't be messy! Stand down!"
Kaminmon obediently backed off, muttering, as the Deceiver pushed past him without another glance. Kincaid held out her hands. Vajramon let her examine his shot finger: Yamaki's bullet had torn it off at the base, near the palm. Data particles leaked out from what remained, only a steady trickle that wouldn't be fatal. But the finger would never grow back. Too much had been taken off for any hope of that.
Kincaid didn't want to deal with Yamaki right now. She was of the right mind to side with Kaminmon as she herself was close to taking Yamaki's body and mutilating it beyond all recognition for hurting her close friend.
"Get rid of him!" Kincaid snapped at her servant, jerking a thumb at Yamaki. "Just dump him somewhere outside of the Shield's range and come back immediately."
Kaminmon nodded and began to morph into his normal Champion form.
"Don't waste your time messing with him. He can starve for all I care. It's better than he deserves."
Kincaid turned to Vajramon. Despite the pain, he didn't look as upset as before as he gradually calmed himself. She didn't want to ask why, instead pretending to focus on the injury as if it was more serious than it really was. Kincaid knew what he'd say if she did ask: that it was better he took the hit than she.
Right now she wasn't in the mood for this. She made sure the data leaking out slowed before she turned to help her servant. Kaminmon had finally returned to his normal form, tail swishing in agitation. The sight of both the Deceiver and the Founder made him nervous and he wanted to get going so he'd be of some use. Pulling her gloves back on, Kincaid roughly hoisted the unconscious human onto Kaminmon's bony back. Yamaki wasn't a small man and Kaminmon bowed under his dead weight.
Without another word, Kaminmon opened another Divine Mist and cantered through the portal. He disappeared, leaving his superiors to themselves.
Vajramon sighed, holding up his darkly furred hand. The pain was already going away and he knew it would dissipate entirely. As an Ultimate, he healed quickly. But he hadn't thought Yamaki would worm that deep into his systems. Didn't think he'd be foolhardy enough to try to shoot him at point blank range. Clearly he underestimated the resourceful human, but it didn't matter anymore. The man had been taken care of. Although it was because of Yamaki they were represented with another problem:
"I can't leave this room," Vajramon said.
"That idiot!" Kincaid growled. "Just had to be a pain, didn't he?"
"He's gone. We need to focus on what needs to be done later today," Vajramon remained with his horned head bowed and muscled shoulders hunched forward, but he still towered over Kincaid, far too big for the low human-sized ceiling. "His employees are going to wonder why he disappeared."
"Just tell me what to say and I'll tell them. I can't make you another ring in the Real World."
A brief silence and then Vajramon nodded. He wasn't happy with this and he suspected they'd have to start weeding through the remaining Hypnos employees and remove any others that seemed to suspect anything. This mess could have been avoided if Yamaki hadn't decided right then and there to try to get his revenge for a four-year old offense.
"Of course. Send a message to the Council informing them of my present condition."
"On it."
"Here's what I want you to tell the humans…"
Reika arrived only a few hours later to find her boss already gone. Kincaid came to greet her with a smile of good news: Yamaki Mitsuo had been transferred to a new branch of Hypnos forming in London. He wouldn't be coming back for quite some time.
He was a very busy man, after all.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"I'm sorry, but we can't admit you right now."
Jenrya pointed at Ryo. "Look at his hand!"
The receptionist shook her head, looking sympathetic. "All the doctors are busy."
"With what? He's got a bunch of broken fingers," Ruki cut in. The group gathered around the desk of the ER. Hard plastic chairs lined the walls, the digital display of the wall clock reading that it was late. The nearest emergency room hadn't been close and it hadn't helped that they'd had to walk the entire way after finding it on a map. Everyone was wet, tired and not in good moods.
"I'm sorry," the receptionist repeated firmly. "I'll see if one will be free minutes, but please wait over there until then."
There was no choice but to do what she asked. Ryo slouched into one of the chairs in the corner of the lobby as the others sat down. Their Digimon waited outside in hiding: there'd been group huddle when they realized that they couldn't waltz in there as a group.
Jenrya glanced at everyone. Ruki sat across from him, one leg crossed as she folded her arms over her chest impatiently. Her foot jogged. Alice sat demurely with her hands resting in the lap of her black skirt, still drenched from the downpour outside but looking the same as when he'd first seen her. Next to Jenrya, Ryo was careful to keep his mangled hand from moving. They'd managed to get some wads of gauze from the receptionist: they'd tried to clear away the blood, but gave up after a few minutes of futile dabbing. Ryo settled for holding a big wad of it pressed against the largest of the gashes in his palm.
"Sorry about this," Jenrya sighed.
"What're you apologizing for? You didn't do anything."
Jenrya glanced pointedly at Ryo's hand. "I…forget it."
Ruki leaned forward, remembering something. "Alice, you said you had something to tell us."
The new girl blinked. "So I did."
"Well? We're all pretty much here except for Renamon and Terriermon. We can explain to our partners once we're done here."
Alice nodded. She toyed with the folds of her black skirt, tracing the lines of the crosses with her fingers for a moment before looking up, her blue eyes resolved.
"My grandfather sent me here. He's one of the ones responsible for creating the Digimon program."
Ryo remained suspiciously silent as Jenrya stared at her. Ruki's own expression was skeptical, almost matching Ryo's.
"If you don't trust me, do some research on Rob McCoy. He worked with your father when he was in college," Alice directed her gaze upon Jenrya. "My grandfather moved to California since then. He's been working in Silicon Valley to develop something to combat the Digital World threat. You're familiar with what's going on here?"
"I tried to explain with what I knew," Ryo almost shrugged but thought better of it. "They're basically planning to break through the barriers between our world and theirs."
Alice glanced at Ryo, her lips pressed into a line.
"Close enough. But when that happens, when the two Worlds come into full contact, there will be a 'digital shuffle'."
"A what?" Ruki's eyebrows drew together.
"A digital shuffle. It's a fairly rare phenomenon, since the causes for it usually don't occur naturally: the chances of it happening on its own are tiny. All I know is it's only happened twice in the Digital World. Data gets re-arranged as the Digital World tries to evolve itself in response to new code being fed into it. It...adapts."
"What's wrong with it?" Jenrya asked.
"When data as advanced as the Digital World's starts reformatting, the current base world is essentially erased from existence because of the 'shuffling' of its components," Alice said. "Direct contact between the Real and Digital Worlds will be enough to trigger a large scale digital shuffle: anything between the points of contact will be erased as the Digital World evolves to match it and replace the original."
Silence. Then Ryo spoke up, black eyes narrowed:
"And what point would that serve? The Digimon don't want to destroy the Real World."
"I'm aware of that. It's only an unfortunate side-effect. The place at the point of contact will be erased, but the rest of the Real World would be relatively unscathed, provided they don't open up any more large tears."
"So only Tokyo would be destroyed since it's the point of contact. I already told them this."
"But it's still worth bringing up, considering what my grandfather is working on. He's developing a program to prevent them from making the breach that would result in a digital shuffle. We can't stop a digital shuffle once it happens. But we can do something to stop the conditions that create one...that's the program my grandfather's developing." Alice replied. "It should prevent them from overloading the tear between Worlds. It would stop both the digital shuffle and the Digimon."
Here was some good news for once, Jenrya nearly sighed. So they weren't as alone as he thought. But that didn't mean they could only rely on this Rob McCoy.
"So what's this program they're making called?"
Alice glanced at him. "The D-Reaper."
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Renamon remained kneeling in the shadow with the other two Digimon. She remained quiet as Ruki told her through their bond what was going on, listening intently to her Tamer's telepathic voice. Ruki was brief since she was focused more on listening to Alice and Ryo than talking to her partner. Renamon quietly repeated what she heard to the other Digimon.
Terriermon frowned, scratching at his short arm with a claw. "D-Reaper? Sounds scary. You sure it's on our side?"
"It's our backup," Dobermon said simply.
"Whatever it is, they're not finished with it," Renamon added. "So that doesn't mean we can rely on it."
From what she heard, Renamon wasn't sure what to think of it. It sounded almost too good to be true: a benevolent watchdog program acting as an artificial barrier between the Real and Digital Worlds. Something that could buy them more time if only it was finished. She wanted to believe in it. But she couldn't. Not with their recent string of luck. Not with everything that happened so far. She glanced out from under their shelter, her bushy tail swishing.
I wonder if it's ever going to stop raining. Surely it had to, although it had been pouring for several days in a row. And where was that strange pillar of energy from Odaiba? It had been spreading ever since they saw it shoot into the sky under the black clouds. Rain dribbled off the overhang and onto the sidewalk in an endless drum. Terriermon plopped down with his back against the wall, button eyes staring out into the wet darkness. Dobermon waited next to Renamon.
It was over an hour and a half before she saw Ruki again. Emerging from the large building across the street, the Tamer looked to be in one of her worse moods as she stormed through the rain.
"Two hours!" Ruki railed once she got there. "And they didn't even give him a real cast!"
Ryo's hand had quickly bound by thin bandages, now lightly covered with some kind of flimsy plaster after having all the glass and splinters removed from his palm and fingers. That hadn't been fun, although thankfully he'd pulled out the largest chunk of glass himself back during the Black Growlmon thing. Still, the harried doctor hadn't done much of a job aside from trying to set all his fingers straight. A faint red splotch of blood formed under the bandages.
Still, it'd have to do. Better then nothing. He'd been prepared to leave it as is, so this was a step above his original plan.
"Now what?" Ryo asked.
Ruki exchanged looks with Renamon and Alice. "Nothing's changed. This D-Reaper thing sounds like it'd be a huge help, but we can't rely on it right now if it's not done."
"It'll be online in under a month," Alice interjected mildly.
"A lot can happen in a month," Renamon said. "We can't sit until then and simply hope it'll work like it should – or that it even comes online in time before anything happens."
"It will work like it should," Dobermon rumbled. "It's flawless so far."
"It's better to take precautions anyway," Jenrya said. He glanced at the others. "Ruki, you said you saw something at Odaiba. We better go back then."
"I know that. But Zudomon is an Ultimate – we can't fight him even if everyone went to Champion."
"If Ruki and Renamon go, then we'll go too," Alice met Ruki's gaze. "It isn't something that should be used lightly, but Stromstärke is somewhat effective against Digimon that powerful. If anything happens, we'll at least have time to run."
Ruki flushed but bit back her impulsive retort. Jenrya tried to think of what else they could do. The fact something was going on in Odaiba's harbor wasn't comforting at all. Jenrya looked out at the rain, running a hand absently through his cropped blue hair as he tried to think.
"Whatever you saw, it's probably going to come to Shinjuku. I think we need to tell our families. Or at least get them to go underground or leave Tokyo before it's too late."
"You can't be serious…" Ruki started and stopped. "You are serious."
"I mean it. It's too dangerous. Remember those lights we keep seeing in the sky?"
"Yeah, what about them?"
"They're Golems," Ryo picked up where Jenrya left off. "They're from the Digital World, but they're not really Digimon. Just mindless data shells. If you come into contact with them for more than a few seconds, they can kill you by touch alone."
"They don't come during the day," Jenrya mused. "We should talk to our families then. Ruki, can you see if there's any places safe underground? In case we don't have time to get them out of Tokyo?"
Ruki nodded. "Fine. I'll see what I can do," a thought hit her. "What about Takato's family?"
Jenrya fell silent for a second. He lowered his eyes. "Guess I'll talk to them."
"You sure, Jenrya?" Terriermon looked up at his Tamer, concerned.
"Yeah."
Would they listen to him? Jenrya couldn't say: they knew he'd been close friends with Takato and showing up at their door would bring back memories of their missing son. Takato's parents might not even want to see him. But Ruki going instead was out of the question – she could be callous, even if it was unintentional in some cases. While both Ryo and Alice had obviously known about Takato, they never actually met him face to face. Which basically left Jenrya as the only real option.
Great. Just great.
"Ruki, Renamon, Alice and Dobermon will be going back to Odaiba. Ryo, Terriermon and I can keep looking around Shinjuku for that fake Takato we saw the other night."
Alice blinked. "Fake Takato?"
"Long story. I'll tell you after this," Ruki said.
"We're gonna get ambushed again," Ryo frowned. He looked down at his crippled hand. "They almost got us this time because we were separated."
"We have to risk it. If we're in one group, we'll be safer, but we can't cover as much ground."
"So either way, we can still lose."
Jenrya wished Ryo didn't have to be so pessimistic. "Put that way, yeah."
"If we keep in contact, that won't be as much of a problem as it was tonight. We can work together even if we're apart." Ruki said. "You already have my cell-phone number. We could check up on each other at intervals or something."
Jenrya nodded. This wasn't much of a plan. But the news of this "D-Reaper" made him feel a little better, if not by much. It wasn't something they could put a lot of trust in at this point, but it was still a new reason for hope. Whatever was happening in Odaiba almost canceled that out, though. He knew his Dad would probably listen since he already knew about Terriermon being real.
His family wouldn't be too hard since his Dad was supportive. It was trying to convince Takato's parents that Jenrya wasn't looking forward to.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Ruki came home hours late.
Rumiko Makino wasn't pleased with her daughter, even if she didn't know how to voice it. All she knew was when she got back her photoshoot, her daughter wasn't there asleep. Peering into the empty bedroom, the model sighed. Ruki shouldn't be out this late. Rumiko was tired as she wandered into the living room and sat down so she could watch the door. And wait.
And wait. And wait some more.
What's Ruki doing out this late? Rumiko fretted and bit a dainty lip. It was way past midnight.
This was ridiculous, even by her standards. Rumiko wanted at least to make sure her daughter came back home safely before she started grilling her about where she'd been.
Rumiko wasn't entirely sure where – or when - she went wrong with Ruki. Her daughter was cool to her, as if she wasn't her mom, but a stranger who happened to live in the same house. Her attempts to include Ruki always seemed to fall flat on its face. Even so, Rumiko wanted it to change. Maybe Mom, Ruki and I can go somewhere nice…
That was an idea. She cupped her chin in one hand, listening to the steady ticking of the clock on the low-set table. Maybe Okinawa? Ruki had gone there a few times with Rumiko's mother, and from what Rumiko heard, she seemed to enjoy herself. Okinawa might work. She'd had money set aside for something special like this. Rumiko couldn't help a girlish smile. She wouldn't announce her idea. No, she'd do better – she'd surprise both her mom and her daughter.
And it would be a real vacation. No work whatsoever. Rumiko promised herself she wouldn't even bring up anything relating to her modeling or to Ruki's school. It would be them as a family.
The door opened and shut, jarring Rumiko back to the present. She rose to her feet, smoothing out her skirt as she hurried to the hall. She stopped short, hand on the doorway as she met her daughter. Ruki had brought a stranger with her: a foreign girl with blond pigtails who was currently stepping out of her heavy boots as Ruki kicked off her own shoes.
"Where have you been, Ruki?" Rumiko demanded. To her surprise, her voice came out irritated. "It's three in the morning!"
"I was out."
Rumiko let out an exasperated sigh. She didn't want to get into another fight. The model glanced at the girl standing behind her daughter. The foreigner looked like she'd been running out in the rain like Ruki. "Who's this?"
"She's Alice McCoy, an exchange student," Ruki gestured. "Forgot to mention this, but she's supposed to stay with us. I volunteered for the exchange program."
Rumiko raised an eyebrow. She'd never heard of any of this. But then again, I haven't been home for very long in a few weeks. Ruki was staring at her like she was about to blow her off immediately.
"...I guess it's alright. We do have room," Rumiko said hesitantly. She stepped aside as Ruki started to brush past her. "Wait, I wasn't done."
Ruki impatiently shot her a tired look.
"Let me make you some tea. Don't stay out this late again," Rumiko avoided Ruki's eyes, suddenly feeling awkward. She turned away. "I always get worried when you stay out like that."
Ruki blinked in surprise but her mother was already vanishing toward the kitchen before she could say anything. Alice came up behind her silently.
"Family difficulties?"
Ruki snorted. "Sorta."
The Tamer had changed into fresh clothing and given Alice some of her dry extras by the time the tea was ready. She sat down at the table clothed in a long-sleeved green shirt and black sweatpants. Next to her, Alice wore a pale gray sweater with another pair of the same sweatpants Ruki wore. She'd let down her hair from her severe hairstyle and it fell loosely around her face. Rumiko came back with three cups and a steaming pot of tea only a few seconds after they sat down.
"I don't know if you like green tea, but it's all we had," Rumiko apologized. She poured them some tea before saying, "So I guess you're going to be staying with us, Alice."
"Thank you," Alice accepted the cup. "My grandfather's in the United States, but he sent me here. I hope I'm not imposing?"
Rumiko shook her head. "No, it's fine. It's just we never had anyone over like this before."
Ruki eyed her mother over the steaming rim of her tea cup. Alice was engaging the beautiful model, answering her questions quietly. It baffled Ruki: her mother had to have gotten back hours earlier. Why wasn't she asleep? Confused, Ruki took a sip of the green tea. It was good, nice and rich, without getting sweet or overly bitter. More refined than when her grandmother made it.
Ruki had never tried her mother's tea before.
"…So your only relative is your grandfather?" Rumiko was saying as Ruki turned her attention back to the conversation.
"Yes. I wanted to stay with him but he said that I couldn't."
"That's too bad," Rumiko said. "But you're staying in contact with him, right?"
Alice nodded. She shot a discreet look at Ruki. Was she going to tell her mother about what was going on? Or would she wait? Because talking about Rob McCoy wandered into sensitive territory. It's too late to start going into details right now, Ruki decided. Everyone was tired. It was important, but it could wait until morning. She didn't even know how to approach her mother about this. Unlike Jenrya, she didn't have all the answers all planned out.
They finished the tea quickly. Saying they needed to go to sleep, Ruki left with Alice to her room. Rumiko staying back to gather the used cups and empty pot.
She had finished setting the cups out to dry on the counter's rack when she happened to look up toward the window. Something lit up the sky. Rumiko's hands stopped over the tea pot as she bent over the sink to get a better look, peering outside.
There was a small cloud of wispy light in the sky about a block away. Clouds? Rumiko's eyebrows furrowed as she squinted. The wispy-shapes almost looked like floating animals; strange creatures, like nothing she'd ever seen before. She was imagining things. Animals, she snorted. Yeah, right.
When Rumiko looked up again a few minutes later, they were gone.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Ryo hadn't slept much over the past couple of days.
He shivered as he stepped through the apartment's door after Jenrya. The two boys were thoroughly drenched from the rain. It'd been easy to ignore when they'd been running from Black Growlmon's flames and he hadn't paid much attention afterward. Now it was noticeable. He took a quick – if extremely awkward due to the cast – shower before sitting down on the couch. Jenrya went into the bathroom as soon as he'd left it and came out to find Ryo hadn't moved. He sat with his hands on his knees, lax, and staring off into space.
"What's up?" Jenrya asked in the middle of running a towel through his hair.
Ryo didn't look at him, still staring off at nothing. "Just thinking."
Jenrya sat down next to the other boy. The clock on the TV read it was almost 4 AM, the latest he'd ever stayed up so far. He was tired, especially from today. Ryo had to be the same, but he only gazed out at the rain-slicked window across the living room. Almost as if expecting it to have all the answers.
"What do you think of this D-Reaper thing?"
"I don't know what to think, Jenrya. Almost sounds like it might give us an actual chance."
"With the D-Reaper up, we could focus on defending ourselves and finding Takato."
"Yeah. It'd be nice if it worked."
Silence. Jenrya stifled a yawn. Next to him, Ryo glanced down at his bandaged hand and plucked aimlessly at the parts of the binding protruding out. The bandages on his palm had turned pink from the wounds that reopened when he took the shower. But his fingers at least where in their proper positions now, although they didn't respond and simply hung there as if they were made of plastic. Jenrya glanced at Ryo's hand.
"They should've given you a better cast."
"I can probably get another one later," Ryo shook himself. His eyes refocused. "I'm tired: I'm gonna get some sleep."
Jenrya got him a fresh blanket as he once again stretched himself out onto the couch. Jenrya shuffled off toward his bedroom after seeing Ryo was settled in, as well as he could be, leaving him to himself. The lights flickered off as Jenrya shut the door and left Ryo in the dimly lit living room. He lay on his back with his arms draped loosely across his chest as he tried to go to sleep. He tossed and turned restlessly for a bit before he finally drifted off.
Sleep was uneasy.
He dreamed again.
When he opened his eyes, it was like he never left. Miles of orange desert stretched endlessly in every direction. Rocks climbed up into cliffs going hundreds of feet high in the air. The usual bands of data twisted overhead. A blanket of heat that felt both oppressive and fake. The remnants of a dusty cloak flapped about his shoulders. Long bangs nearly covered his eyes – Ryo hadn't had a haircut in who knew how long. He'd pushed back the visor that covered most of his face to get some air. Even had those fake claws on his right hand that he'd had to wear back then, trying to look as least human as possible. Most of the time it worked. Sometimes it didn't. Then you got very good at running.
The Digital World. Ryo didn't want to be here: not now. Not ever again.
He thought about it enough awake.
It was obvious where this was going. The details sometimes changed but most of the encore was the same. Sure enough, there was a sound behind him, a guttural snarl that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He whirled. A huge silhouette stood behind him, towering over Ryo by over a good meter or more. The sun blazed at its back.
Ryo couldn't move, frozen to the spot as he gazed up at the outline standing above him, the sun shining in his face, hearing the creak of his partner's wings. Time slowed, ticking second by second by second. Time crawled now as it had the first time, as it had all the other times in his memory. Time slowed so much there was no avoiding what came next. No avoiding it at all. It was some kind of twisted fate. It couldn't have been any other way. He'd had this coming.
Sudden pain.
Ryo looked down as dark red blossomed from his side. It hurt beyond anything words could describe.
Claws flashed out as his partner tore at him in a rage, screaming something that Ryo was too busy getting maimed to really register. (Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the words were more important than anything else, hurt more than nearly getting gutted). First his left side was torn to shreds. Then his shoulder. A row of knives dragging down the small of his back. Blood splattered against the desert. His legs choose to give out from under him. It was only then that Ryo fell, hitting the baked ground of the desert heavily. Ryo panted, eyes glazed over in pain he barely registered his partner straddling him.
Blood seeped into his face from a head wound he didn't remember getting as his good eye slid up toward his attacker. The sun was still behind the Digimon, peeking through the rents in those wings of his. It hurt so much, burned so much it made him numb with a seeping cold even in the desert heat. Blood seemed to evaporate into data.
Ryo was vaguely aware of someone cradling his body but he couldn't see anymore, his eyes rolling back as he started to pass out from blood loss. Whoever held him close shuddered with a mixture of pain and some other emotion. His voice came out in double-tones.
"I wanted it to end. It hurt too much knowing what you are."
Ryo couldn't even ask what any of that meant. His head rested against his partner's armored shoulder as he was gently rocked like a small kid in those arms, blood still dissipating into data specks even as he sucked in a bubbly wheeze. Sudden agony from his neck - worse than anything before - and he wasn't able to even breathe as he felt fangs pull themselves free of his throat. More blood, only this time he was choking on it, drowning in red..
He was dying.
"You were so cruel, denying me an end. Living a lie."
Then the voice was gone, leaving Ryo lying on the ground as darkness crept up and started to engulf him –
"Ryo?"
Ryo slowly opened one eye. Jenrya was standing him and looking at him with one of those Jenrya frowns he was starting to get used to. Gray light lit the room. Already morning and yet it seemed like he'd drifted off into sleep only a few minutes ago. Ryo felt uneasy, but he couldn't explain why. All he knew was that he'd had a dream, like some of the others, and he hadn't liked it. Left a bad taste in his mouth. But other than that, he couldn't remember anything about it. He couldn't remember dreaming in the Digital World - he'd only started having the dreams once he was back in the Real World.
Something told him he should probably be glad he couldn't remember them.
The older boy sat up, rubbing at his eyes. "I'm up," Ryo said. Jenrya sat on the floor next to the couch, watching him. "What?"
"Something wrong?"
"You tell me."
Jenrya shook his head. "You look like something's bothering you."
"Something's always bothering me," Ryo raked his fingers through his messy hair, trying to comb it back into its normal shape. "I had a dream, that's all."
Jenrya took up the blanket that Ryo shed as he stood up. The thin makeshift cast around his broken hand was stained red in some places, but other than that, Ryo's hand looked like it was going to survive. The blue-haired Tamer began to fold the blanket. "What was it about?"
"What, the dream? Damned if I remember." Ryo trailed off thoughtfully. "Got a bad vibe from it, is all."
Jenrya draped the neatly folded blanket along the back of the couch. He paused.
"Ryo, if they get bad, you can talk about it with me."
"…I know. Wouldn't get your hopes up that I'll get squishy about it any time soon," Ryo said. He glanced out the living room's window. Rain streaked down the glass.
Jenrya wished Ryo would be more open. The Tamer thought he understood him better, even if his first impression about Ryo hadn't been that good. But the other boy always seemed to distance himself whenever Jenrya tried to help, either flat-out blowing him off or giving a noncommittal grunt as he withdrew. Jenrya didn't know what he could possibly do to help except listen. The only thing he could do was wait until Ryo felt ready.
Not to mention there were other things he had to think about. Too many things.
Dad's not here yet. Jenrya knew his Dad was involved with Digimon in the past, but he didn't know if he was working on that "D-Reaper" program that Alice mentioned. If he was, it wasn't full time since there were no plans to go to the United States any time in the future. No running past this by Dad until he came back. That left the next option. Jenrya really didn't want to have to do this, but he couldn't call and expect them to take him seriously. It'd have to be face to face.
"What's the rush?" Ryo asked as Jenrya got ready to go.
"I have to go to Takato's. I need to talk to his parents."
"And what about school?"
"I'll be late," Jenrya shrugged. "This is more important."
"Want me to come with?"
Jenrya paused. It might be better if he faced Takato's parents alone, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to leave Ryo here by himself like that: who knew if the things that attacked him a few days before would come back? He could leave Terriermon here though. That left Jenrya unprotected, but he did have his D-Arc and if it worked like Ryo's had, then that was good enough. Terriermon didn't look happy when he voiced this idea.
"I wanna go with you!" Terriermon protested.
"That's a bad idea," Ryo said flatly at the same time.
Jenrya already made up his mind. "Terriermon, no. And that's all I can come up with, Ryo, Takato's parents are probably still really worried about him. It'll be bad enough I'll be there."
"And what if you get attacked and we don't?"
Terriermon started to open his mouth to argue. "Jen –"
"No. I mean it."
Terriermon looked away and it looked like he was about to start pouting in sheer frustration, lower lip already starting to stick out rebelliously. Jenrya almost laughed at how silly the Rookie always looked when he acted like this, but bit it back, nodding as he finished stepping into his shoes. Ryo was watching him unhappily.
"Don't get killed over me. Make it as fast as you can."
Jenrya nodded and hurriedly left before Terriermon's resolve strengthened.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
It was only when he peddled down toward the street where the Matsuda's bakery was that he faltered. Jenrya slowed, then finally stopped altogether and got off his bike. Rain still came down, gray as the sky, but he managed to juggle the bicycle's handles and the umbrella as he wheeled it toward the bakery. Okay. Let's do this, Jenrya gazed up at the bakery's sign. Just tell them everything you know without making them worry too much.
If that was even possible. Their son was missing and now Jenrya was going to be the bearer of more bad news.
Although it was a weekday, the small street wasn't busy. Most of the stores were closed, windows dark as he went past them. Some of them had been boarded up. Jenrya kept on the lookout for any signs of an ambush, his eyes quickly scanning the area. A repeat of last night could easily get nasty and the thought it could involve the Matsudas wasn't something he wanted to consider.
Jenrya carefully leaned his bicycle up against the bakery. He peeked in through the window display: fresh trays of steaming bread rolls sat out on the shelves but he couldn't see any customers browsing. The store looked empty. Jenrya went back to the door, and, steeling himself, turned the handle. The door opened and he stepped in.
"Hello?" Jenrya called tentatively.
His voice sounded hollow and small in the bakery. Closing his umbrella and leaving it near the door, having nowhere better to put it, he ventured further inside. If the store was open, one of Takato's parents had to be here.
"Mr. Matsuda? Mrs. Matsuda?"
They could be in the backroom with the ovens. Jenrya had been in the backroom once when Takato volunteered to give him a tour of the place the first time he'd been over, so he knew where it was. Feeling like he was intruding, the Tamer went past the counter and glanced in the backroom. The ovens were still going, judging from the blast of heat in his face.
They're here then. This was the first time he'd seen the bakery look so empty. He called again into the backroom but there was no response, so he went back into the main portion of the store.
"Hello? Um, it's Jenrya Lee, I –"
A door slammed from above. Footsteps and then someone rushed down the stairs. It was Takato's dad. He had dark circles under his eyes and for a second he stared at Jenrya without recognizing him. The baker blinked, as if he was the last person he expected to see.
"Jenrya…? What're you doing here?"
"I, uh…I was wondering if I could maybe talk with you guys?"
Mr. Matsuda removed his cloth cap and rubbed at his forehead. "Jenrya, if you're looking for Takato, he hasn't come back yet."
Before Jenrya could speak, there was another series of footsteps and Takato's mom joined the two at the base of the stairs. The woman had been crying recently. She dashed tears away quickly with the back of her hand when she saw who her husband was talking to. She looked so hopeful Jenrya wished he could just slink away into a hole. Maybe it wouldn't have been such a bad idea to let Ryo do the talking – Ryo wouldn't feel the growing guilt.
Jenrya's tanned cheeks flushed. Mrs. Matsuda stared at him like he somehow knew where Takato was. Her husband just looked like he was too worn to dare to hope.
"I'm sorry, but I don't know where Takato is," Jenrya said and hating himself when he saw Mrs. Matsuda's face fall. "I came to make sure you guys were okay."
"We're fine. It's just that we don't know what to do," Mr. Matsuda said.
"I want Takato to come back home!" his wife sounded close to breaking down into tears again. "I-I just want him back with us..."
Silence that was broken by suppressed sobs from Takato's mom - her husband tried to comfort her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and rubbing her back gently. Jenrya stared at the ground. If he had any other choice, he would've gladly fled the bakery and kept running until he couldn't feel those two pairs of eyes on him.
Jenrya gave them a minute or so to collect themselves. Eventually Takato's mom stopped sobbing, although she couldn't keep the frequent sniffles under control.
Jenrya looked up. Mr. Matsuda was looking at him as if he could force him to leave by making eye-contact. Whatever he had to say couldn't possibly be of any use to them in their search for their lost son. Mrs. Matsuda wasn't even looking at Jenrya, her shoulders drooping as she rubbed at her red eyes.
"I'm sorry. I…I've been trying everything I could to find him," Jenrya said quietly. "I'm as worried as you are – he's your son. And he's my best friend. But that's not what I came here to talk about –"
" - Look, I hate to be rude, but you need to leave," Mr. Matsuda gritted.
Jenrya stood his ground. "I can't."
That broke Mrs. Matsuda's composure. "Just leave us alone!" she cried.
"I want to find him too!" Jenrya remained stubbornly where he stood. "Please, listen to me. I'm sorry I can't help with Takato right now. I know we'll find him eventually – I won't stop looking. But it's an emergency."
They didn't interrupt him, although Mrs. Matsuda looked like she was on the verge of breaking down again. Her husband aimed a tired glare at Jenrya. He managed to sit them down on the stairs before continuing on. Outside, the rain drummed with the same monotonous rhythm of a clock as he began.
"Do you know what Digimon are?" Jenrya asked.
Mr. Matsuda stared at him as if he'd asked the most irrelevant question imaginable. "They're from a game. Takato used to be obsessed with them, he was always drawing or talking about them. It was a harmless phase."
"They're nowhere near 'harmless'," Jenrya said. "They did come from a game. But they turned into real creatures since the game was first created – "
Mr. Matsuda gave a cynical laugh. " – Jenrya, please. We're not in the mood for stories right now."
"I never said I was telling a story, Mr. Matsuda. I'm dead serious," Jenrya said. "You can ask my dad Janyuu Lee. He was one of those who worked on this game, he knows about Digimon. And he knows that three of us are partnered with some of them. Takato, Ruki Makino and myself."
Mrs. Matsuda started at the mention of her son but both remained quiet enough for Jenrya to continue. Jenrya bowed his head, trying to figure out how to say this tactfully. But there was no time for tact: he'd have to say everything as far as he knew without wasting time on making it easy for them.
"Digimon are constantly coming through to the Real World – our world – and they're hostile. If it wasn't for our partner Digimon, all of us would probably be hurt. Or dead," Mr. Matsuda winced at Jenrya's words. "I don't know if you've seen Takato's partner Guilmon – I'm guessing probably not. After Takato went missing, Guilmon went missing too shortly after that."
Jenrya decided now wasn't the time to mention Black Growlmon. It was confusing enough trying to explain to Takato's parents about Digimon and the idea of friendly ones.
"The thing is, more and more Digimon are coming through from their world to ours. And they're not friendly like our partners, I don't think they'd hesitate to kill you. And if it's not them, it's the other things happening in Tokyo right now," Jenrya rushed blindly on. "The lights in the sky at night, for example. They're not lights. If they touch you, they can kill you. A friend of mine already ran into some and he barely managed to escape."
Jenrya paused for breath. He saw their expressions on their faces. Staring. Takato's dad was growing angrier, his lined face clouding over. They don't believe me. He didn't know what to do: there was just too much to explain in too short of a time. It was a bad place to be telling them this, but there were no other alternatives.
"You have to believe me!" Jenrya pleaded, voice desperate. "Find somewhere underground to hide. Or just leave Tokyo. It's not safe here anymore!"
More silence. I've got to prove to them Digimon exist! Once they believed him, they'd have to believe him too about the Golems and everything else.
"I can prove it. Please, go somewhere and hide. That's all I'm asking."
Takato's father got to his feet. "Jenrya, look. I know you're worried. We are too. But we're not leaving."
"You have to!" Jenrya glanced from one face to another.
"This bakery is our home," Mrs. Matsuda said. For the first time she met Jenrya's eyes. "It's Takato's home too."
"I know, but it's for your safety!"
"We can't unless we leave as a family."
Jenrya opened his mouth. Closed it when he saw both adults wouldn't budge no matter how hard he tried to push. For the first time in a while, he felt his eyes start watering with helpless tears and he looked away so they wouldn't see him cry. Everything that could was going wrong. He hadn't lied when he said he'd never stop looking for his best friend – but what if Takato came back to find both parents dead? Dead because Jenrya hadn't been able to do anything?
Jenrya jumped when a hand suddenly placed itself on his shoulder. The half-Chinese Tamer looked up, tears glimmering in his vision. Mr. Matsuda looked down at him with a sad smile on his face.
"You've been a good friend to Takato, Jenrya. I'm sorry I was angry with you," he said. "It'll be alright."
"I…"
"You were trying to help," Mr. Matsuda's voice was soft. "But whether or not there's really a danger to us, we can't leave like that."
Jenrya bowed his head, defeated. "What if Takato comes back and you guys aren't here for him?"
"We will be," Mrs. Matsuda shared a mournful glance with her husband.
Her husband nodded. "Exactly. Dangerous or not, he'll always have a home to come back to."
"Please – "
"That's enough, Jenrya," Mr. Matsuda said firmly. He steered Jenrya toward the door. "Thanks for worrying about us."
Jenrya found his umbrella placed into his numb hands. This wasn't what was supposed to happen! He blinked but found that any further attempts to argue were quickly silenced. He soon stood in the bakery's doorway, rain pattering behind him. Takato's parents stood in the bakery side by side. Mr. Matsuda stepped forward and shook Jenrya's hand.
"Take it easy, Jenrya."
"You too, Mr. Matsuda," Jenrya found himself saying.
"Be careful on the way back."
"I will, Mrs. Matsuda." This felt like it some sort of final goodbye and, feeling a lump in his throat, Jenrya added quickly, "I'll check up on both of you when I can. You'll be the first people I'll contact when I find Takato."
"Thank you. Goodbye, Jenrya."
And Jenrya found himself once again standing out in the rain. The door of the bakery shut behind him. Dazed, the Tamer stared down at the raindrops splashing in the puddles. He was too stunned to open his umbrella and he was distantly aware of moisture trickling down his neck as his hair plastered itself against his forehead. What now? He could turn around and go right back in, but nothing would change. Takato's parents made up their mind and, short of tying them up and dragging the two away, nothing would budge them.
If Jenrya was crying now, he couldn't tell.
First Takato...and now his best friend's parents.
Rain washed any tears away as Jenrya stood in front of the bakery and wondered if this was the last time he was going to see the Matsudas.
To be continued...
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx