Digimon: Digital Monsters
Mirror, Mirror—Epilogue
By 7 of 11
It had been 3 months since the battle for the future of both universes. And Kana remembered every single detail of the fight like it was yesterday. Even today, she still felt something eating away at her inside, which she had never gotten a chance to say farewell to her partner Digimon before all of the creatures were returned to their world.
Mata Izumi had recovered from her near-fatal injuries, and the last that she had heard, Koushiro and Mata were taking much-deserved time off from their job at Oxford University. They were somewhere tropical, somewhere remote—exactly where Kana would have liked to be that morning. But no such luck had come her way. It was Sunday morning, and the 12-year-old girl was bored out of her skull.
The phone rang, and from inside her parents' room, she heard her father's voice answer: "Takaishi residence, hello?" There was a pause, and then he spoke again. "You want Hikari? Okay, one second."
During the second pause, as her father handed off the telephone to Hikari Takaishi, his wife, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" She called to her parents, and rushed to the door.
As Takeru entered the main room in their apartment, he heard Kana gasp in fear and shock. "What? KANA!" he yelled, and sprinted to the door, but his daughter was fine. He nearly collapsed when he saw what she was looking at, however. "Kari-chan?" He managed to call.
"Yes?" Hikari hung up the phone, her conversation over, and walked to where the other two were standing. And she, too, froze at what she saw. "What does this mean?"
"It means…" Kana's voice was deadly quiet. "That he'll be back…"
Standing against the far wall of the corridor was a sword, long, sharp, and deadly. Light glinted off of the saber—Alt-Yamato's weapon.
~~~
Alt-Yamato chuckled from outside of the Odaiba apartment building. He couldn't have let the Takaishis see him, of course. It was hard enough getting out of the dimension before the blast leveled the tower. Right now, he just wanted to settle down, live a normal life.
He turned, the long black trenchcoat he had been wearing to conceal the sword blooming out slightly. Maybe he would change his name…maybe even leave the country, go to America. If he did that, then, he would need an American name. Hmm…what about Matt? That sounded like a nice American name…after all, he'd think of something. There were always possibilities.
Alt-Yamato reached into his pocket and produced a pair of sunglasses. Putting them on, he walked away from the past, the horrors, and to a new life.
Because, after all, there were always possibilities.
THE END