The Saturday half day of school went by much too fast for Koji's taste. He'd never imagined a time would come when such a thing was possible, but he desperately wanted to stay in class. He wanted to remain at his desk for hours, days even, focused on the lecture and much too absorbed in frantic note-taking to think of anything else. Too busy to contemplate the greater mysteries of life or ponder the crappiness of their situation. Certainly too preoccupied to feel badly about skipping out on his mother or to stew about how their happiness had been stolen from them. Perhaps most importantly, he wanted to keep his concentration on normal, every day sorts of concerns rather than drift off into the absurdity that was the previous night, and school was just mentally rigorous enough to allow him that. Just for a moment.
But time has an annoying way of moving at its own pace, regardless of what we might wish, and Koji found himself cleaning up the classroom before he realized it. Then he was retrieving his shoes from his locker, then he was meeting his brother at the gate. Before long they were walking down the street together in an increasingly strained silence, neither willing to shatter the illusion of mediocrity the daylight held. It wasn't until they reached the train station that Koji even acknowledged Koichi's meaningful looks, let alone allowed himself to begin contemplating the task to which they'd dedicated their afternoon. Much to his displeasure (though not his surprise), Koichi didn't share his desire to put off the inevitable. The older twin was understandably anxious, so much so that only a deep respect for his brother's space had kept him silent this long. Still, Koji couldn't bring himself to speak. His desire to ignore, to avoid the inevitable exchange he knew was about to take place, was stronger than any compassion he might've had for his twin's urgency. Frankly, whatever it was, Koji didn't want to hear it without the security of the others listening ears, a notion that was matched only by Koichi's need to keep the exchange private.
The result of this dog and pony show was something of a compromise. They arrived at the predetermined meeting place, the bridge in Yoyogi Park north of Shibuya Station (Dorian had found them once without any help; he could do it again) without exchanging so much as a word, but were the first ones to do so. It was abnormally quiet for a Saturday, only a few packs of high school girls with interlaced arms and umbrellas, tailed by some innocently suspicious looking high school boys, and a couple too constrained by the rules of society to enjoy the contact they both so obviously wanted. The splashing of geyser-like fountains in the pond was only punctured by the occasional voice, creating a spell of infinity neither twin felt ready to endure. Finally, Koji allowed his brother to voice whatever sour request he'd been restraining all day.
"What is it," he grumbled reluctantly, leaning his forearms on the bridge and staring out at the water. His face was a mask of passive disinterest, but like always there was a brightness to his eyes that betrayed his true emotions. Frustration, anxiety, but mostly fear. Weakness tucked expertly behind practiced bravado.
"Hmm," answered his twin mildly, taking up a position similar to Koji's, but leaning his back against the rail and staring up at the sky. To the casual observer, Koichi looked completely at ease, even mildly amused, content with the day, but Koji could sense the waves of near-panic come off him like heat from the blacktop.
"You've wanted to tell me something all day, so spill it." His older twin was put off, but not surprised, by the hostility in Koji's voice. He picked his next words carefully, trying to anticipate and minimize the storm they were bound to provoke.
"It's about last night." He paused, waiting for the retort. But none came. Koji continued to stare out at the pond, observing a duck bob for food with great interest and intensity. Koichi rubbed his lips together nervously. "I'd like to keep it just between us, if that's alright."
"What?" Koji straightened suddenly, giving his brother a very offended, very dangerous look, which caused a flicker of shame to cross Koichi's soul. The word was itself soft, but said with such unbridled disbelief and revulsion the older twin flinched visibly from the sound. Then, growing indignant himself, Koichi lifted his chin and took a step back, creating a void between them.
"You heard me," he said with frost, pulling his fears and pains into a reserve so deep, not even Koji could read them. This didn't bother his twin, who was currently so absorbed in his own internal storm he didn't even notice.
"Oh I heard you alright," he growled back, forcing relaxation into his muscles. "I just don't believe what I'm hearing. I just don't understand what kind of craziness would make you even think that was even an option."
"You of all people should understand," Koichi hissed in an undertone, wary of the volume their argument was producing. He could feel the lava of Koji's anger, salted with fear and confusion, pulsing from him in a barely contained eruption that was surely going to cause the grass to catch fire. It pounded in his head, making him impossibly nervous- even a little nauseous. The whole thing was suddenly too much for him and he turned away, his eyes moving across the field to settle on something that made his face pale. The sight of his friends jogging towards him should not have elicited such an unpleasantly visceral reaction, but it did, and it was all Koichi could do to smile and wave back as Izumi and Takuya approached.
"Hey," the goggle-head greeted, bounding up obliviously and clapping Koichi on the shoulder. "Lookin' good! You had us kinda worried there for a bit, buddy, but looks like all you needed was a good night's rest!"
"Yeah," agreed Koichi distantly, giving him a beguine smile. "Sorry for the trouble." Takuya beamed at him, giving his shoulder a reassured squeeze. Even after all these years, the Chosen of Fire still had the innocent belief that a little friendship could solve all problems. It was one of the reasons Izumi had first found herself attracted to him, one of the reasons she'd fallen in love with him. But it also blinded him, and Izumi, ever the more intuitive one, sensed something was still horribly wrong. She slowed her approach and frowned at the glower on Koji's face.
"Is everything alright," she asked, feigning mild disinterest. Pretending it was the sort of off-hand question anyone would ask friends who'd had a rough night. Koji scowled and opened his mouth to say something, but the older twin cut him off with practiced smoothness.
"Everything's fine," he said, still smiling. "It's like Takuya said: all I needed was a good nights rest. So, do we want to talk here, or did someone arrange a different meeting place with the other man- Dorian, from last night?" It was a tactful change of subject that did not go unnoticed by either Koji or Izumi. Once again Koji opened his mouth to speak and once again, he was cut off. This time it was by a new voice, a low, silky voice with the barest trace of a French accent.
"No, no one bothered to clue me in on the secret meeting place." Dorian stepped out from behind a tree just shy of the pond's edge wearing a cold grin that suggested he'd been there for a while. Today, he was sporting white pants, a white button up shirt not quite buttoned to his neck, and a black leather belt with a silver buckle. His hair shone in the sunlight and his eyes made the clear sky appear grey and dismal. Hi white scarf hung around his neck in a single arch. Koichi flushed at the sight of him, feeling an intense, immediate ball of dislike drop into his stomach. Last night's memories were foggy at best, especially where Dorian was concerned, but Koichi definitely recalled the man. His doubts, his accusations, his barely restrained disdain. Somehow, Koichi knew that grin was for him and it made him feel very unsafe.
"How'd you get here," snapped Koji, spinning to face the Frenchman, his anger momentarily redirected.
"The train," said Dorian, examining his short, even nails in boredom. "I'm really not sure what you were expecting; the bunch of you are so unbearably predictable."
"Really. And how might you know that," asked Izumi tersely. Dorian rolled his eyes to her, raising his eyebrows and speaking as one might to an incredibly thick child. His tone was not appreciated.
"Tache's cult has been stalking you for weeks, maybe even months, and I've been following them. This is your little gang's meeting place and every idiot that visit's this park with any regularity knows it. You're hardly discrete or stealthy, so you shouldn't be so shocked when the undesirables find you."
No one was really sure how to respond to that or what to react to first. Should they feel indignation at the blatant insult, revulsion at the idea of Dorian following them around, or disturbed by the thought of Duskmon's followers being so intimately familiar with their movements. Dorian, for his part, didn't really care how they reacted and continued to speak as if discussing the weather.
"It's just as well. Obnoxious as it is, my job would be exponentially more difficult if you had any sense. As things stand, we'll just be thankful I was the only thing waiting for you today and move on." With that, Dorian turned and started walking, ignoring the confused and angry glares the other Digidestined were throwing at his back. After a few steps he paused, tossing a few words over his shoulder. "I meant that literally. This is a lovely park but it's no place for business."
"You got a better plan," scoffed Takuya skeptically.
"Based on what I've seen so far, I think I can safely say I always have a better plan." A younger Takuya would've hit him and the present Takuya was seriously considering it. Koichi, recovering himself from the initial shock of their encounter, tried a different tactic.
"Where are we going?"
"Someplace safe," said Dorian offhandedly, beginning to walk again. With the enthusiasm of a cat in a clown suit, the group followed him. "Someplace private."