Everything hurt. His hands, his throat, his chest and stomach, all of it was cramping, shooting, stabbing, or just throbbing with a dull ache. Dry air rasped over even dryer lips and as he tried to move, he felt clotted blood tug at his skin. But the worst pain wasn't in his body. Koichi didn't remember most of the day, not in any sort of form that made sense; nevertheless, there was enough to piece it all together. The team fighting, ganging up on him, Takuya giving him the water, then Tache's hands and tree filling his lungs with black powder and his gut with roots. They'd gotten their wish, used his body to reawaken Duskmon, but to what affect?
He wanted to rub his eyes and push the hair from his face. Or something. Yet when he tried to move his arms a force pulled back, chafing around his wrists. Lethargically, he opened his aching eyes and looked down. Flexing his fingers. Feeling the pain in his heart deepen. He was still bound to that accursed chair, still his own friends' prisoner. A sob burned in his throat as he tried to struggle, straining futilely against his padded bonds. It was pointless. He couldn't get free. He would never be free.
"Koji?" His voice rasped, a pathetic echo of what he'd intended. Silence. Solitude. Koichi forced his head up, eyes scanning the room as he sucked in breath to try again. The words died in his throat.
There was someone standing in the corner. It was just a shadow, he knew that. Rationally he understood there was nothing there, nothing but walls and baseboard and floor. No one. Yet the longer he stared, the more defined the figure became. She had golden blond hair tied in a braid over her shoulder and almond shaped brown eyes. Her body was lithe, her thin arms wrapped around her torso as if to hold some incomprehensible force inside. And she was shaking. Instinctually, he knew who she was, even though rationally he could not fathom how she'd gotten into a corner in his room. Even though he knew she couldn't be there. Ysault.
Firelight lit her features and she readjusted her seat on the log, pulling at her cream blouse and smoothing her black pants. Had she known she was going for an extended, extra-dimensional camping trip, she would've worn something more versatile. Layers, probably. Unfortunately, no memo had been sent out prior to this adventure. It was a split second decision, go through the portal or don't. No planning or logic, just intuition. Regret was the wrong word for how she looked back on that… But at times like this, in the dark cold nights of this moonless Digital World, she did wish she'd brought a jacket. Floramon noticed her distress and tried to use her petal-hands to rub her shoulders. Ysault smiled a little, reaching across her chest to grab the stem that served as a finger gently.
"Do you want me to get more fire wood," she offered, catching Ysault's warm brown gaze with her large blue eyes. The teenage girl widened her smile, wrinkling her nose and eyes as she always did when amused.
"We have enough as it is," she said in a high, lyric voice that had an almost musical quality to it. "Besides, I think Dorian and Bahar are already off 'getting more firewood.' If you go out too, then we'll have to build a cabin to justify stripping the forest to such a degree."
"A cabin sounds pretty good right now." Ysault's smile faltered and she looked forward again, staring into the darkness. A sadness came into her face and she sighed lightly through her nose.
"I don't want to stay here." Floramon coiled her stem around Ysault's finger and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
"They'll be back soon. You know how Gomamon is; she won't let Dorian stay out too late. She gets sleepy."
"Yes, that's true…" Ysault seemed distracted and the sadness did not leave her delicate features. A shiver racked her lithe form and she leaned closer to the fire, holding her free hand towards its tongues. "Thank the Lord for Gomamon… and for Huckmon… And for you, my dearest friend." They sat in silence for a minute, holding each other like frail barriers against the dark.
"Please tell me what's wrong," Floramon finally said in a rush, coming around to face her partner. "I know there's something; please tell me what it is. I may not be able to do anything, but what kind of friend would I be if I didn't at least try!"
"Oh, Floramon." She gave a faint, compassionate smile, reaching out to stroke her Digimon's cheek. "I'm sorry. How long have you been this worried about me?"
"About as long as you've been worried about whatever's bothering you." Ysault gave her a sympathetic look. "Is it about the Poyomon?"
"The Poyomon… The Digimon that came before him and the ones that will follow. It's like a never ending whirlpool of sorrow and… I just feel so powerless to do anything against it. I know I was brought to this world for a reason and I know that we're strong when we're together. But we're not together… We haven't been together since that night… Not since before then."
"Ysault! Don't talk like that!"
"Everything's falling apart and I just wish I could hold us in one piece. I just wish I was stronger."
"Hey," Floramon jumped at the voice, turning around to confront the newcomers. Ysault, on the other hand, wasn't startled at all. She looked up and gave a tired smile, striking up a new conversation as if the old one had never happened.
"Hello Bahar, Huckmon. Did you find what you were looking for?"
"Hardly," snorted Huckmon in his deep, gravely voice. Bahar smirked a little at his assertiveness, resting her hand on the small, steel dragon's head.
"But we're gonna keep looking."
"Tonight?" Ysault tried to catch Bahar's black eyes, but the Destined of Justice was determined to avoid her. Her curly brown hair hung ungroomed to her chin and, as she shook her head, shaded her face. Ysault's lips parted, her brow furrowing. "You're not going back out tonight?"
"Ysault," Bahar started, then, sighing deeply, she came over and settled herself at Ysault's side. Floramon budged over, releasing her partner but not moving far from her. Huckmon went to her and gave a reassuring nuzzle, smiling as best he could. Which just made Floramon even more nervous.
"You're leaving," Ysault breathed into the heavy silence, her voice a lament even as her face hardened into an emotionless mask. She didn't want Bahar to see how much that hurt her. Bahar gave a sharp nod, unable to meet Ysault's warm eyes. So instead she reached over and grabbed her forearm, giving it an awkward squeeze.
"I have to do something," she hissed between her teeth. "Dorian thinks we should hold back, hole up somewhere and come up with a plan, gather allies, all that military stuff. And I just can't do it. I can't just sit here while this Darkness spreads."
"You don't have to leave us…"
"You'll be fine without me. Floramon's got your back-"
"Don't try to make this about me and Floramon!" Ysault pulled away, standing up abruptly and rounding on Bahar. Her loose, golden braid swung over her shoulder, making a slight thumping noise as it hit her chest. Here eyes shone with pain she refused to let in her voice, tears sparkling in the firelight. "I understand that Dorian isn't the easiest person to get along with, but his intentions are good! He just wants to keep us all safe!"
"I know that," she spat, but to her credit, Bahar didn't get up. "Jesus, Ysault, just who do you think I am?" Ysault tucked her chin in shame, her thin fingers curling into tiny fists.
"Why can't we all go together," she asked in a small voice. "Why can't we stay together? We're friends, aren't we?"
"Hey." Bahar patted the seat next to her. When Ysault didn't move, she got up, taking the other girl's hands in hers. "Of course we're friends. Nothing's gonna change that. Not now, not ever. And it's not like I'm going away forever; we'll be back. Huckmon and I… we just need a little space for a bit. Spend some time on our own, you know. And if we find anything important, like a secret lair or that Dark Ocean everyone keeps talking about, we'll come right back and get you. Promise."
Ysault looked unconvinced. Bahar licked her lips, maneuvering her head so she could catch the gentle girl's eyes, giving her an earnest smile.
"Besides, I thought you might appreciate some alone time with Sir Dorian. He certainly appreciates alone time with you."
"Yes, I'm sure he would," Ysault whispered, somehow managing to look even more dejected.
"Come on, I've been third-wheeling since we got here. Don't try to deny it! See, this will be a good thing!" Ysault looked up at her, her face an incomprehensible mask of sadness. She wasn't going to let Bahar off so easily.
"What if we need you? How are we supposed to find you?"
"We'll stay close. Listen Ysault, I've always done everything you ask, even the things I didn't understand. But this… it's something I have to do. Don't stop me."
"I don't want you to go." Tears broke free of Ysault's eyelids and rolled down her cheeks, collecting at her chin like small gems. She was a beautiful crier.
"Shh," Bahar soothed, pulling her closer in a gentle embrace and stroking her hair. Ysault hesitated, then wrapped her arms around Bahar's back. Her frail form trembled as she cried into the brunet's shoulder, her Digimon hovering around her knees. "Shh, it's okay, it won't be for long. You'll be okay."
"What am I supposed to tell Dorian?"
"Tell him… Tell him not to worry."