It had never been a secret that the twins had something kinda off about them, something the other kids simply couldn't relate to. They were normal enough in conversation or group projects, but that was assuming you could coax either one into such things. Most of the time they were caught up in their own little "being twins" world and everyone could see it. There was something else too, an awareness no one could name. It was more pronounced in the one with short hair, Koichi, but sometimes, Koji's kendo club mates remarked, it was like he too had an almost psychic knowledge of where his brother was. What he was feeling…
Maybe it was an identical twin thing. Maybe it came with living with someone who had a chronic illness like his brother did. Koichi couldn't sit too close to the window, had to have special lights in class, and was frequently struck by cold or dizzy spells. This made him extra odd and thus isolated him from the class, keeping any admirers, who would've otherwise swarmed around him hoping for attention, at bay. Actually, truth be told, it kind of kept anyone who might seek attention from the twins at bay. Both twins had their fair share of admirers, girls giggling behind their backs, chocolates on Valentines Day, that sort of thing, but unlike the popular kids in other classes, Koji and Koichi were typically left alone. Nothing they did surprised anyone. No one interfered with their lives.
This suited Koji just fine. He knew full well that they'd made a scene earlier, but unlike his brother, he really didn't care. Didn't feel the slightest bit embarrassed then and he certainly didn't feel any shame walking in while everyone else was cleaning up, grabbing his and his brother's bags, and leaving without a word. Nor was he fazed by the peculiar stares he received guarding the bathroom door while Koichi washed the blood from his ears and neck. Or the judgment faces when they brazenly walked by classrooms filled with club meetings or homework groups on their way out. Thankfully, he'd already told his kendo buddies that morning he was going to miss the club meeting, thus sparing them the shock of him simply not showing up. At Koichi's insistence, he'd also called the coffee shop to spare them the shock of his brother also not showing up. Diplomatic was not the word to describe the exchange, and it was fortunate for all involved that Koichi's boss liked both him and his father. Koji had neither the time nor the patience to indulge societal niceties. His brother needed to be home, needed to rest, and then they needed to do something. They had to get it out of him…
Umbrellas are not an uncommon way to stay out of the sun in Japan, so the twin boys were able to blend into the bobbing mass going to the train station. A little less common are public displays of intimacy, especially between boys. So in that regard, they blended in to a lesser extent. On most days this would've bugged Koji so much he'd keep his distance from the older twin. Today, Koichi was broken, tired eyes still squinting behind his sunglasses, both his body and mind leaning against Koji. Yet at the same time things were different. More controlled… Koichi wasn't in his mind like some sort of intruder. Rather, he felt aware of his twin's condition, felt himself leaning back on his brother, and somehow this was no more intrusive or intimate than looking at him. For the first time since the Digital World, the phrase "sixth sense" aptly applied. It was the rest of the world that felt foreign, like some alien force observing them as they moved through the crowd, arms interlaced. Enemies were everywhere, yet at the same time Koji knew they weren't being followed or stalked. The storm had done its damage and passed… for now.
They had just gotten off at the Gaienmae station and started heading back to their dad's house when Koji's phone buzzed against his thigh. Koichi started at the noise, throwing his twin an almost panicked look as adrenaline surged through the two of them in unison. Then the phone continued to buzz and the world continued to turn and he relaxed, laughing a little at his own jumpiness. Koji gave him a soft grin, handing him the umbrella and digging out his cell. Kanbara flashed across the screen in bold letters.
"Takuya," Koji greeted, steering his brother off to a storefront so they could talk away from the crowd. Koichi pursed his lips nervously, then tugged at Koji's arm, moving into the shadowed alley between stores and removing his glasses. He blinked at his twin, pupils wide and glinting in the dark. Koji stayed in the light.
"Hey buddy," Takuya answered, his voice loud enough for Koichi to hear. "What's up?"
"Nothing good," said Koji with a short, mirthless snort. "I was actually going to call you when we got home. We need to talk."
"Koichi's not going to work?"
"No." Short. No further explanation. Takuya sighed through his nose and shifted nervously, the rustle of cloth coming across the line like static.
"Well, umm, I guess that's good because… Is he okay?"
"No." This time the word came off as a little annoyed, even indignant, as if Koji was offended that he'd had the audacity to even ask. Koichi frowned, giving his brother a scolding look.
"I can speak for myself," he whispered, holding out his hand for the phone pointedly. Koji pulled away just a little, unwilling to relinquish control of the conversation just yet. He did, however, rephrase.
"He's better now than he was. We were heading to our dad's to get our stuff when you called."
"Ask him if he's okay to swing by Dorian's first." Takuya's voice became suddenly rushed and high, nervousness oozing through the line. He was obviously agitated and had given up trying to play it cool. "He's back and, well, just come by okay? Me and Izumi are already here."
"Takuya, this is not a good day!"
"It's fine." Koichi didn't keep his voice down this time, intentionally speaking towards the receiver so Takuya could at least hear he'd said something. Then, softening his tone just a little and giving Koji a deep look, he added: "There are some things they need to know before this goes any further."
"It can wait," Koji said flatly, pulling the phone away from his ear and pressing it to his chest.
"No, it can't." The twins' eyes locked and something more than words passed between them. "I know you understand."
"Tch," Koji put the cell back up to his ear and, talking over whatever Takuya had been monologuing while they had their brother's moment, gave him his answer. "We're about 20 minutes away by subway."
"Do you want us to meet you at the station?" Izumi's voice asked. Koji rolled his eyes: speakerphone. Great.
"I'll let you know, but for now just assume we both can walk."
Takuya listened to the dial tone for a solid thirty seconds after Koji hung up. There was something very fatalistic about it, like a bell toll or a heart monitor. An emotion of some sort burned in his stomach, something he couldn't really articulate or understand, but it was there nevertheless. Uneasy. Guilty? Izumi pursed her lips and reached out to him, her cool fingers brushing the back of his hand as she gently pushed it down. He worked his mouth into a small smile, then his brown eyes moved to Dorian. His stare was not friendly, but it wasn't outright hostile, either. The Warrior of Wind followed his gaze, her jade eyes narrowing.
Eager as they both were to crucify this psycho, he'd unfortunately gotten in some very valid points before they'd had the chance. The Frenchman had coaxed them back into the main room with promises of explanations and assurances that no secrets had, in fact, been discovered. He'd been planning on contacting them anyway, had learned a few things about the cult during his absence, that sort of thing. What had finally won them over wasn't the assurances and blasé dismissal of their concerns, but Dorian's own insistence that the twins be called in. He was the one that wanted to be honest, keep everyone in the loop. And, in the name of transparency, he wasn't going to disclose anything "vital" until they were all present. Wasn't that what they were here for to begin with? Wasn't that what they wanted from him, transparency? Still…
"They're coming," he surmised, running his fingers through coffee brown hair to push it from his face. Despite the impending summer heat, Dorian had his white scarf draped around his neck, untied and even. Maybe he was genuinely chilly; it was surprisingly cool in the apartment. But there was something about the way he fingered it, as if to check and make sure it was still there. Izumi hadn't noticed that before…
"They're about 15 minutes Southeast of Shinjuku," Takuya answered shortly, his jaw working unnecessarily hard. Dorian nodded, glancing over at the door anyway. This irritated Takuya, fanning the flame of his anger and fear into a sudden outburst he couldn't stop. "You had better have a damn good reason for this."
"I do," Dorian said mildly, moving to the window and occupying himself with his solar panels. "Then again, I would say I've a 'damn good' reason for everything that I do. Anyone would."
"And just what is that supposed to mean," Izumi snapped, her own agitation flaring. Her fingers were still lingering on Takuya's hand and, for lack of anything else to do, she made to grab it. Then she remembered that that hand was holding a cell phone and thus unavailable, so she grabbed that instead, snapped it closed loudly, and shoved it into his pocket. All without looking at the foreign Digidestined. This seemed to suit him just fine; his icy blue eyes stared out at the Tokyo cityscape, pensive. For a man in such a precarious position, he was oddly calm.
"Is there anyone who honestly perceives their actions to be entirely unjustified? Do people exist that would take an action they believe to be misguided? Everyone does what they think is right, regardless of the objective truth of a matter."
"I'm sorry, I don't know too much about French culture. Are you making small talk?" Takuya grinned a little more earnestly at that, thankful he wasn't the target of her biting remarks.
"I'm making a point, one that I think might be important for you two to grasp before the brothers get here."
"I thought you said you didn't want to have this little meeting without them." Dorian sighed in exasperation, throwing Takuya a vexed look. Takuya shrugged, unsympathetic.
"I hate having to repeat myself, so I'm holding off on any conversations regarding Tache and his cult. Unfortunately, he's not the only thing the three of us need to worry about."
"If you're trying to get at something just spit it out," shot Takuya, wrapping an arm around Izumi's waist and pulling her close. The message was clear: you are not a part of us. Dorian slid his jaw sideways, running his tongue over his upper lip as he tried too hard to ignore the gesture.
"Perspective," he said simply, turning to face the couple. "Objectivity. Boundaries. Things we need to discuss without your twins of Light and Dark around."
"Aren't they allowed in your club," Izumi mocked, interlacing her fingers with the ones Takuya had on her hip.
"How far are you willing to go to stop Tache? At what point do the ends stop justifying the means? These are things we need to get straight amongst ourselves because I guarantee your answers will be different from Koji's."
"You think you can just walk into our lives and pretend you understand how we think and feel? Pit us against each other? We're no different from Koji- or from Koichi; all four of us are willing to do what it takes."
"I think your boundaries are different," Dorian answered slowly, decisively. "And you're naïve to believe otherwise. Given the fact that neither of you is related to Tache's host by blood, you both have a somewhat wider perspective on the matter."
"He has a name," hissed Izumi.
"He has many names," Dorian snapped back, heating up just a little as he rounded on her. "I understand that you see him as a friend and partner and all those good things, but there was a time before that when I know you saw what else is there. If you can't admit to his evil, I can accept that, but I need you- Koichi needs you to admit to the possibility of evil. You all need to remember who he was without his memories if you want to get through this world still intact."
"That's not fair-"
"That's how it is, chère. Who he is now can't change who he was or what's still lurking somewhere behind that innocent façade. Don't pretend you don't at least sense that. Some aspect of Tache remains, some connection that we can exploit in order to stop him, but only if you can admit to it and do what needs to be done."
Dorian's words hung in the air like a mist of pepper spray, thick and biting and paralyzing. Izumi felt pressure building in Takuya's fingertips as they pressed against her hip, felt her own hand growing hard against his. Loathing seethed in her gut like some kind of serpent, yet its forked tongue pointed in two undeniable directions: Dorian for suggesting Koichi might be more than he seemed… and herself for knowing that, in this, he was right.
She had sensed something from Koichi, some kind of awesome power that had manifested since she'd known him (the real him). In the Digital World it had only been the one time against Ice Devimon, but that was mainly due to the fact that they all gave up their Spirits to Takuya and Koji for almost every fight thereafter. Koichi had only had the one chance, and she had been thankful he was fighting with them that time. In that moment, Izumi had understood that Duskmon's single-mindedness, the force of will that had made him such a deadly enemy, wasn't an artifact of Cherubimon's corruption, but a fundamental element of Koichi himself. He was, like the rest of them, chosen, and somewhere behind the friendship and compassion Izumi knew enough to fear that. And she hated it.
But she refused to admit it to Dorian. Refused to allow paranoia and instinctual panic to dictate the fate of someone who was fundamentally and irreplaceably her friend. Someone who was kind and gentle and good. The hardness spread from her fingers, up her arm and into her face.
"We're going downstairs," she said in a low, decisive voice. "To wait for Koji and Koichi." Do not follow us.