Between Alpha and Omega
By, Esmee Concept by, Tenshi no Yuma
– – –
All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
And their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
'Cos I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very
Mad World
Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
Made to feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen
Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me
'mad world'
~Tear For Fears
0.
In the begining, when I first became, I was furious.
I will not say, 'When I was reborn.' because I did not die, nor will I say, 'When I was made.' or 'When I came into being.' for to be made implies that I was waiting to be shaped into what I am now - which I was not - and to, 'come into being' implies that I was nothing before this form, which is also incorrect.
So you see 'became' is the best word to describe what happened.
Anyway, when I first became, I was furious.
Furious at my Master for tricking me.
Furious at myself for believing him.
Then, when I had calmed down somewhat, I realized that he hadn't tricked me at all. All he had said was that he would make me stronger, and he had.
I was furious at myself again. This time for not being smarter, more cautious, anything.
So I raged up and down the corridors for a long time, not caring where I went or who heard me.
When I finally paused in my blind raging, I found myself in front of a door unknown to me - which was rare considering how well I had come to know these dim hallways.
Looking at it, I remember feeling a wild hope rise in my heart.
I was very foolish then, I honestly thought that there was a way of turning back, of escape.
How very, very, naive I was.
I pushed open the door to see . . . nothing but a small, dusty room with a large rectangular mirror hanging on the wall facing me. A sputtering torch hung on either side.
I remember feeling a wave of - disappointment? Resentment? Hopelessness? Perhaps it was a combination of all three - hit me so hard that I felt ill.
But, looking at the mirror, I became curious. What did I look like now? I wondered.
So I stepped closer to the mirror.
I was about half a meter away from it, and even from there I could see that the edges were very finely engraved. I couldn't tell what was engraved on it, it was covered in too much dust, but I wasn't interested in that.
I do not remember clearly what I felt as I wiped the dust from the mirrors surface, but I remember after.
Yes, I remember after.
As I peered into the depth of the glass, the part of me that was still - human is the only term that really fits -recoiled in disgust, and perhaps horror.
I had known that I had changed, I had known from the first moment, but I was unaware of just how much I had changed.
My clothing had changed from the red dress I had been wearing, to a long skirt of stormy-gray; it flowed and billowed about me. It had splits in the front to allow me more freedom of movement, I guess. Underneath was a shorter skirt of a material that started out pale gray (at my waist) and faded into a darker gray, stopping mid-thigh.
I wore boots made of the same cloth as the over-skirt, the one on my left leg stopped just above my knee, and the one on my right leg, at my knee. There were knee-guards at each knee, made of a black metal and edged with silver; a large deep green jewel (beryl I think) was set in each guard. A slender band of the same black metal edged with silver (the clasp was a small silver ring, a fine chain about the length of a finger joint hung with a tiny, round green gem from it) encircled my left thigh, just above the knee, holding up the cloth of the boot. Around each ankle were guards; black, edged with silver, and set with green gems.
The skirt was caught up by a belt of black metal edged in silver that widened on my left hip, to become a metal plate as wide as my palm, veined through with silver and set with a green gem.
My torso was wrapped in the same stormy-gray cloth as my skirt and boots, with a girdle of the black metal (edged in silver, of course) around my ribs. There was a black and silver shoulder-guard on my right shoulder, the obligatory green gems set on the crest and by the clasp to the guard on my right breast. Hanging from the shoulder-guard was a long piece of charcoal-colored cloth.
On the bicep on my left arm was a slender silver armband with a small green stone set as the clasp, and on my left wrist sat a black and silver wrist-brace.
On my right arm was a glove that covered only the back of my hand and stopped mid-forearm. The glove was gray, and another green gem was set on the back of the glove.
Those changes I had already known about (how could I not? All I had to do was look down to see them), what I hadn't known about were the physical changes.
Or had I? I think that deep inside myself I already knew what had happened, but didn't want to admit it.
My hair, once a sugary brown, was now a tarnished silver-white in color.
On my left cheek was a small green tattoo, shaped like a raindrop - or perhaps, as I like to think, a tear drop - with an infinite circle inside. Infinite tears. How fitting for the crimes that I would commit.
I think that, perhaps, I could have stood that or at least, learned to stand it over time. They were nothing more than cosmetic changes really. But rising from my back - just above my shoulder blades - were two huge wings.
They were taller than me by a head and were very black; a disturbing, dark parody of true angel wings.
Only my eyes were still the same, and yet, as I stared at the, the thing, in the mirror that was now me, they were even more alien than the rest of me.
I do not remember leaving the room, but I remember looking down at my hands and seeing them covered in blood and shards of glass.
((CHAPTER IV: STRANGE WIND))
1.
The house was traditionally built with a large garden and koi pond. From the wooden bridge to the black lacquer and rice paper doors, it was a perfectly ordinary - albeit beautiful - house and grounds. Ordinary that is until you realized that instead of birds flitting swiftly through the yard, brightly colored fish did the flitting and that the air had a peculiar blue-green tinge to it, like water. But then, with an owner as unique as this house has, it's to be expected.
Upon entering the house you would find a large mostly empty room, with several doors opening off it. If you took the door to your right, you would end up in a slightly smaller room with even less in it than the first room. It was a rectangle, with a small window in one end and on the wall opposite another door. A fair sized desk sat near the window and faced the back wall, a large cushioned chair stood behind it. Beside these two articles of furniture, part of the wall facing you is covered in bookcases jammed full with old and new books, sheets upon sheets of printouts, and numerous ancient crumbling scrolls. The rest of the wall was covered in a large screen. If you looked at the desktop, you would see a rather large panel, which looked like a cross between a computer keyboard and the controls of a game console. And if you were to enter that room at this moment you would also see an old man dressed in wine-colored robes edged in gold trim, putting away one of the older scrolls and looking older and grimmer than was warranted.
Grimacing, Gennai lowered himself into the chair. He closed his eyes and sighed in relief as his aching bones relaxed. I'm getting too old for these wars. Much, much too old.
"Surely you're not tired yet Old Man?" An all too cheery voice taunted.
Gennai cracked open an eye at the Digimon crouched on his window-still. "So you've finally decided to grace me with your presence, have you Alopexusmon?" He said with a dry chuckle.
The fore mentioned Alopexusmon wore a positively devilish grin as he jumped gracefully to the floor. "We~ll," He drawled. "I got bored and I had nothing else to do, so I thought I would do you the favor of allowing you to bask in my magnificence."
Gennai allowed himself the luxury of a rough bark of laughter. "Tell me Alopexusmon, do you have to work hard to keep so self-centered or is it natural?"
"Eh." He shrugged. "It's hard work being me, Gennai."
"I'm sure." Gennai said blandly.
"Anyway," Alopexusmon said briskly, dropping the banter. "Your message was very brief, what do you require?"
"An end to this foolish war would be nice." He muttered, and then sighed. There was so much he needed to know, but now was not the time. "Where to start." Where to start indeed. Should he inform Alopexusmon first of the loss of the [ Sincerity ] and it's [ Carrier ]? Or perhaps he should ask for a report first, it would be wise to know how far along in his plans Myotismon was . . .
"I need a drink." Gennai mumbled, getting up and leaving a very confused Alopexusmon behind. He shuffled through his workroom, but just as he was about to exit a flash of light caught him eye. He turned around, didn't see anything, shrugged and entered the kitchen.
"Yo, Gennai." Alopexusmon called from the workroom. "What is this thing, and is it s'posta glow like this?"
Gennai gave a long-suffering sigh and hurried out of the kitchen. "Alopexusmon haven't I always told y-" But the rebuke died on his lips as he saw what the Digimon was holding. With a speed that surprised even himself, Gennai darted over and snatched the glowing crest from Alopexusmon's hands. "It can't . . . This isn't . . . It shouldn't . . ." He muttered numbly.
"Gennai, you're scaring me." Alopexusmon said uneasily. "What is it?"
Gennai paid him no attention as his thoughts raced one another. It's not supposed to be able to work! It was the [Broken Crest], it's not possible. For it to glow is . . .! Gennai stared at the steady amber light that pulsed in the crest with disbelief. It's summoning a [Carrier] for it's self!? But we thought it was a failed crest and didn't make a Digimon for it, but now it comes to life? How can it? It needs both a [Carrier] and a Digimon to work! Then a thought struck him. The [Sincerity] must have been destroyed, that's why this crest is reacting! With the loss of [Sincerity] we have one less crest than the [Prophecy] requires . . . so the [Broken Crest] must be used! Now all we need is the [Light] . . . which Myotismon has.
"Report, Alopexusmon!" He snapped. "What are Myotismon's current activities?"
Alopexusmon, startled at the urgency of his tone, took a deep breath and looked at Gennai warily. Gennai was not going to be happy with this report. "His activities are minimal, but there have been rumors . . ." He trailed off unsure of just what to tell Gennai.
"Of?" Gennai snapped with barely concealed impatience.
"There has been talk of some power other than Myotismon's."
"What does this have to do with anything?"
"Well, at first I thought it was just that; talk. To make sure, I went to check the rumors out where they could be proven - the village where the they started - and there was nothing."
"Nothing as in, no truth to them?"
"No." Alopexusmon shook his head emphicly. "Nothing as in there was no village. There was nothing there, it was as if the [ Hand ] of Omegamon himself had wiped it off the face of the world."
"Sweet Alphamon . . ." Gennai breathed softly. "That's not possible, even Apocolymon doesn't have that type of power, trapped behind the barrier as he is. Surely you're mistaken . . .?"
"That was what I had thought at first too, but then I found a badly wounded Tanemon. I took care of him as best I could, but he didn't even live an hour after I found him."
"Did he say anything?"
"Oh yes, he said a lot of things. All of them unintelligible. He was raving mad Gennai. Ranting garbled words as he twitched and convulsed on the ground, there was only one thing he said that I was able to understand and that didn't make any sense."
"Well?" Gennai growled. "What was it?"
" 'Dark wings'." Alopexusmon said simply. "He said, 'Dark wings' and he died."
" 'Dark wings' . . . ?" Gennai frowned. Why was that familiar? He would have to find out more about that term. "If that is all of your report Alopexusmon, then I have som-"
"That's not all I have to report." He interrupted. "Myotismon has also withdrawn his orders to enter the Human World to look for the Eighth Child."
"WHAT?!" Gennai shouted, making Alopexusmon wince. "Why didn't you tell me this immeaditly?!"
"Look," Alopexusmon said hurriedly. "I just forgot about it for a moment. This is good news right? I mean it will give us more time to prepare and get to the Child first, right?"
"You're absolutely sure this isn't a ruse of some sort?"
He nodded. "At first I thought it was to good to be true too, but he gave this order almost two weeks ago now. Some of his soldiers are saying that he's afraid of this new power out there and that why he's withdrawn the orders, but others are saying it's because this new power is his and he doesn't need the Eighth Child anymore because of it. I agree with the latter."
Gennai sagged visibly and pressed a hand over his eyes as he assimilated this piece of news. 'Almost two weeks ago'? The [Sincerity] was lost two weeks ago, surely it's just a coincidence. Sweet Mother Alphamon please say it's just a coincidence!
Alopexusmon looked at him sharply. "You wouldn't happen to know why Myotismon suddenly withdrew orders that he had been preparing for months before hand, now, would you Gennai?"
"Can you tell me precisely when," Gennai asked faintly. It's just a coincidence . . . "The orders where given and when you were suppose to have left for the Human World?"
"Um," Alopexusmon made some quick mental calculations. "We were suppose to have left for the Human world fourteen days ago and the order to withdraw was given twelve, thirteen days ago I think. Hey Gennai you okay? You turned really white just then."
Gennai suddenly felt very ill. "You're sure?"
"Yes." Alopexusmon said baffled and becoming increasingly alarmed.
There was a cold lump in the bottom of his stomach and he was feeling more and more nauseated. All this time I've been leading them into a trap. Every place I sent them he knew, he must have been waiting for the perfect moment to attack. All this time! He knew, all this time he must have known. Sweet Alphamon I betrayed them! I lead them into this attack . . . "We lost the [ Sincerity ] and it's [ Carrier ] Alopexusmon."
"WHAT?!" It was the Digimon's turn to shout. "When did this happen?"
"Almost two weeks ago," He said dully, using Alopexusmon's own wording. "We lost the [ Sincerity ] and it's [ Carrier ] almost two weeks ago."
"Holy Sweet Mother Alphamon." Alopexusmon swore in a round oath, looking as ill as Gennai felt.
"Yes, Alopexusmon we'd better pray," He looked down at the pulsing amber glow of the crest in his hands. "But right now we must plan." As if in agreement the crest's glow grew brighter.
2.
The warm light that penetrated the trees became a rich mosaic of colors where it fell on the forest floor, like splashes of paint some inspired abstract painter had thrown down in a fit of brilliance creating a pattern that only he understood. Jyou found peace was obtainable here, as he walked through trees that looked like they were carved from gems. He found it both pleasant and disturbing to be left alone with his thoughts for any period of time. He cast around for some firewood that he could take back to camp so it would appear like he was doing something useful, and not just wandering aimlessly around the forest trying to alleviate guilt.
"Can I ask a favor of you?"
Jyou squinted up at Sora, from where he was crouched on the ground trying to pry a stubborn piece of dead wood from an entanglement of vines. "Sure." He said standing up and dusting off his hands. "Ask away."
A huge smile of relief lit up her face. "Thanks, you have no idea how much I need your help."
"I aim to please." Jyou smiled slightly. "Now, what do you need?"
Her smile vanished and a troubled light appeared in her eyes. "I need you to talk to Yamato."
"Me?" He raised an eyebrow.
"Yes you." The younger girl made a frustrated gesture. "You're his best friend, surely you can talk him in to sharing his watches. Yamato's exhausted, he needs rest! Anyone can see that, why not him?"
Jyou wanted to say; maybe he knows that if he gave himself time rest he wouldn't be able to stop remembering, that's why he keeps himself exhausted. But he kept the thought to himself. He could see Sora's point though, but he didn't think that he was the right person to ask and said as much. "Look I really don't think I'm the right person for this, you should ask someone else to ta-"
"You don't understand," She pleaded. "You are the only person I can ask. I can't ask Taichi, he's more likely to antagonize Yamato into a fight than convince him to share his watch."
True. Jyou thought dryly. Though they are friends, Taichi would probably say something the wrong way - unwittingly of course - and Yamato would most likely jump at the chance to fight. And I truly doubt Taichi would back down either, he'd welcome it I think. Physical pain to counter mental.
"Koushiro - though he's smart and might be able to talk Yamato into sharing his watch - is have a hard time coping with," Sora had to pause and swallow slightly before continuing. "Her death."
And it's doubtful you could get him away from his computer long enough for him to really talk to Yamato. He much prefers the virtual world of which he is god, than the real one in which he is nothing more than human. He thought with abnormally dark humor.
"The same can be said for Takeru."
Very true. Jyou thought soberly. Takeru had been waking up screaming for the past two weeks, but refused to talk about the dreams that woke him up, sweating and shivering by turns and screaming for help.
"I can't ask the Digimon. Agumon won't leave Taichi's side,"
Even a leader needs someone to lead him at times.
"I won't ask Patamon - Takeru needs him,"
As he should when he won't talk about these dreams to anyone else in more than monosyllable answers.
"Tentomon is glued to Koushiro's side,"
He reminds Koushiro that he needs to eat and breathe; though I'm sure Koushiro would argue that point.
"And I'm sure Gabumon would've already talked to Yamato if he'd had the chance, but he's too busy with Palmon,"
She needs all the supports she can grab. Gabumon is willing to be one.
"And Gomamon seems to be too."
And so is Gomamon. It was all too true, but she'd left out two people. "What about you and Biyomon?" He asked softly.
"We tried already!" She shouted, nearly in tears. "He just ignored us! You're the only one I can ask, out of all of us you are the calmest and least effected-"
"Is that what you think?" Jyou interrupted suddenly, ridged with anger and hurt. "That I'm not as effected as the rest of you by Mimi's death? 'Good old Jyou doesn't care, let's ask him to do it,' is that what you think?!"
"No!" Sora said clearly distressed. "I didn't mean-"
"Well let me tell you something," He glared at her, not letting her speak. "Not a moment of the day goes by that I don't think about her, that I don't think 'what if'. What if I had noticed Yamato before Mimi did? What if instead of standing like a half-wit as Myotismon attacked I had done something? I dread what I going to have to tell her family! And don't even bother trying to tell me that I not responsible. Despite what Taichi says about being the leader, I am the oldest and am therefore responsible for protecting and looking after the younger children in the group, and I could not protect her, Sora! I just stood there and let it happen, I couldn't-" He broke off abruptly, fumbling with his glasses as he rubbed a knuckle across his eyes.
Sora had a stricken look on her face. "Jyou, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"
"It doesn't matter." He interrupted brusquely, not looking at her, feeling ashamed at his outburst but still hurt at what she'd implied. "I'll talk to Yamato, for all the good it will do."
Sora held her hand out in silent entreaty, beseeching him to forgive her.
Jyou barely glanced at her as he brushed past her.
3.
Gomamon walked over to where Palmon sat huddled in on herself next to a topaz-colored stream. "You okay Palmon?" He asked gently, once in hearing range.
"What do you think? Would you be 'okay' if Jyou died?!" She snarled then stalked off, leaving a stunned Gomamon staring after her dumbly.
"I was only asking how she was," he muttered, slightly hurt by his friend's reaction. It's only natural though after what happened, I don't even want to think how it would be if Jyou died! He shivered slightly at the thought. If Jyou died it would feel like half his soul was missing. Not a pleasant feeling.
"Don't take it personally, she's been like that to everyone today." Gabumon said coming up behind him, garnet eyes dark with worry. "She just needs time, that's all. She'll be fine soon. She just needs time."
To Gomamon, the soft reassurances seemed to be for Gabumon as much as himself. "Yes," he agreed. "She needs time, but how much time do we really have left?"
A strange warm wind like the one on the day the children came swirling about the two, running long fingers through their fur and catching up fallen leaves, making them dance madly. A chaotic vortex of ruby, amber, violet and emerald.
"Do we have any time left at all?" He whispered.
4.
"Hey Agumon," Sora greeted the small orange dinosaur. "Have you seen Biyomon? I really need to talk to her." The talk with Jyou had upset her badly. Out of all of them she had considered Jyou to be the most stable, the calm logical adult among them. The rock in the storm, if you will. That he was just as confused, angered, and saddened as the rest of them pulled a large piece of her foundation out from under her. It wasn't that she had thought he wasn't upset by Mimi's death, just that he was in more control. In a strange way the fact that this upset him scared her, almost the same way a child feels scared if they see their parent crying. Right now she just wanted to curl up in Biyomon's wings and have a good cry.
"She's talking to Taichi." Agumon replied, a troubled glint in his emerald eyes. "I'm worried about him Sora, he's not sure of himself anymore. He doesn't think he can lead anymore."
Sora rubbed her arms, suddenly feeling cold despite the tropically warm wind that flowed around them. Though she couldn't put a finger on it, there was something strange and familiar about it. "Oh Agumon," she whispered helplessly. "What are we going to do?"
5.
Jyou found Yamato sitting underneath a large ruby-leafed tree that overlooked the smoky-gold stream. The sunlight spilling through the leaves was bloody and pearly, creating an abstract stained-glass pattern on the ground that shifted into some new design whenever the wind harped through the branches.
"You look awful." Jyou said bluntly, as way of greeting.
Yamato looked up resentful that his self-imposed solitude was being invaded, but the resentment faded when he saw it was Jyou. Yamato did look awful though; his lapis lazuli eyes were ringed in dark circles that only added emphasis to the pallor of the rest of his face. "Thanks man, I really needed that." The weary sarcasm in his voice a pale shadow of his normally biting tongue.
"Where's Takeru?" Jyou asked as he lowered himself to the ground beside Yamato.
Yamato closed his eyes and leaned back against the rough cinnamon-colored bark of the tree letting the warm, strangely familiar smelling wind blow his hair into airy spikes. He absently frowned as he tried to name the smells. Sage maybe? Or ginger? Beeswax defiantly, and vanilla too. "He's taking a nap, Patamon's with him. He's been having trouble sleeping."
Neither talked after that.
6.
Eighteen days, ten hours and thirty-seven minutes.
That was how long ago she had died right in front of his eyes and, coincidently, that was also how long ago he had started researching Myotismon.
Eighteen days, ten hours and thirty-eight minutes.
Not that he was counting, goodness no! He just happened to have a very, very good memory. He was not counting the minutes since one of his friends had been brutally murdered right in front of him, as he just stood there like an idiot, of course not.
Eighteen days, ten hours and thirty-nine minutes.
Tentomon was sitting next to him as he had for the past eighteen days unnaturally quiet and grim, not making any of his customary snide quips or sarcastic remarks. It was still hard to believe - inconceivable really - but he had seen it with his own eyes so he had to believe it, no matter how much he wanted to disbelieve it.
Koushiro scowled darkly as he came to another dead-end. "All we know is that Myotismon is a virus-type Digimon and a powerful one at that! How can we fight something if we don't know more about it?" He growled, clearly frustrated and feeling ready to throw his laptop into the stream.
"Calm down Koushiro," Tentomon soothed. "I'm sure-"
"–That you can figure out whatever it is later," the gravely voice of Gennai broke in. "At the moment I need to talk to all of the Chosen. Now."
7.
Gennai surveyed the children and Digimon like a general surveying his troops, which if you looked at it, was what they were really. "There are only really two main issues you need to know," he began. "The first is this; one of my informants has recently brought to my notice that several villages on File Island have be destroyed completely."
"Completely . . . ?" A no-longer sleepy Patamon whispered.
"Completely." Gennai affirmed. "There is nothing left where these villages stood, not even rubble. Among these was Primary Village." Gennai saw the shock on the children's faces and the horror on the Digimon's. But he wasn't done yet; it got worse. He smiled darkly. Much worse.
"Who did this?" Yamato asked softly.
Gennai looked at the boy sharply.
"Yes Gennai, who did it?" Jyou asked as he pushed his glasses up his nose with his forefinger. "It wasn't Myotismon, if he'd had that kind of power earlier I'm sure he wouldn't have hesitated to use it against us, therefore it must be someone else."
Gennai nodded slowly, approvingly. The boy was sharp. "You're right, it isn't Myotismon. My informant thinks he might have a new subordinate and I agree."
"But you don't know for certain? Why?" Taichi queried.
Here it comes. Gennai thought grimly, as he shrugged helplessly. "No one has survived any of the attacks, there was one Digimon who got away but he died only an hour after he was found. He was incoherent and the only thing we got from him before he died was 'Dark wings'. So the only thing we really know is that it is powerful, more powerful than Myotismon we think."
"What does this have to do with us? Do you want us to go after it?" Koushiro asked impatient to get back to his laptop.
"Alphamon no!" Gennai said alarmed. "I want you to keep as far away from this thing as possible! You are to avoid all possible contact with it. Now the second thing you need to know is this; the [ Prophecy ] foretells of the coming of the [ Eight ]. The last time I contacted you it was to tell you of the existence of an Eighth child, but unfortunately we have lost a crest and it's [ Carrier ] so we shall now require two more children. By sheer luck I happen to have one of the crests, I believe the only reason we can use it at all is because of the destruction of [ Sincerity ]." He held up the glowing crest. "It is summoning it's [ Carrier ]. I don't know where or when the [ Carrier ] will appear, but it should be somewhere near you. Once you get the child come directly to me. That's an order.
"Unfortunately we still have a slight problem, there is no Digimon created for this crest so I will have to ask Palmon to act as the Digimon for the new child-"
"You expect me to replace Mimi with someone else?!" Palmon hissed, glaring at him harshly. "You expect me to just forget about her and play happy Digimon for whatever Omegamon-touched child you're going to replace her with?! How dare-"
"Palmon! Be still!" Gennai snapped. "There is no other choice. If there was I would use it but there isn't. I wish to Alphamon there was. But. There. Isn't. Beside the crest I hold, Myotismon has one. My informant - Alopexusmon - is in the process of acquiring it." He paused and surveyed the children and Digimon once more, looking each in the eye for emphasis. " You are to lay low, do not go after Myotismon. Do not confront what ever this new power is. Once you find the new [ Carrier ], come directly to me. You have no chance of winning against either Myotismon or his new toy at this time. Understood?"
"Understood." Taichi said finally, speaking for everyone after it became apparent that no one else was going to answer.
"When you find the new [ Carrier ] come to me immeaditly. Do not stop for anything." Gennai warned a final time, and then blinked out.
8.
The young boy looked up at the hot blue sky. He couldn't have been more than eight, though he was tall for his age. He was slim and was often teased for having a 'girly' face. Dark hair fell in a soft fringe over large, wide set brandy-colored eyes with impossibly long dark lashes, that adults often assumed were angelic missing the wicked twinkle in their depth.
He appeared to be staring at something in the perfectly clear sky that arched overhead like the inside arc of a robin's egg, white-hot blue. He knew something was going to happen today, he could feel it. Power was coiled in the air around him, making everything appear sharper, clearer. A strange wind - warm and dry that smelled like beeswax, vanilla, and something else familiar - wrapped around him ruffling his hair and caressing his face.
With his face still upturned, he held out his hand and caught the small cold white snowflake that drifted down from a summer sky so hot and blue it vibrated. High in the blue-white dome above him a pinpoint of dark amber light, like a tiny perihelion, appeared.
9.
Hikari looked up wistfully into the sky, from where she leaned on the balcony rail, thinking of her brother. She wished desperately that she knew how her brother and his friends were, whether he was hurt or happy or whatever!
"Please be okay and come back soon, please."
No cloud marred the skyline, so she could see quite far away. The sky was the same blue-white color as the hottest part of a flame. She watched as a point of light the color of dark amber appeared high in the sky. It grew brighter until it was impossible to look directly at it, then it slowly faded away like a dying sun.
"Please be okay . . . Please."
Meko meowed for attention and rubbed up against her ankle, and twining around her legs, while a strange wind tugged at her shirt and played with her hair.
"Please."
10.
Evening came around to find Palmon still wrathful at what Gennai had said and asked her to do, and Taichi didn't blame her –he'd felt like raging at Gennai too and from the looks some of the other had been giving Gennai they did as well. It was surprising he hadn't gone up in flames from the glares he had been getting.
Taichi sighed as he returned to the more pressing matter on his mind. Can I protect them from this new threat? I sure didn't protect Mimi, and this thing is s'post to be even stronger than Myotismon. He thought bleakly. Would he be able to protect his friends from it? He had to; he couldn't stand to lose anyone else.
"Koushiro," he started to ask, still thinking along those lines, "do you–" But he was interrupted but the sound of someone screeching. Rather loudly too.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH," a pause came, as if for air, after which the screeching resumed. "HHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Looking up they could see a small dark dot marring the rich cloth of sky. Looking closely, one could see that the object was falling rather quickly and it also seemed to be the source of the screeching.
"What is it? A crow?" Koushiro asked shading his eyes.
"It seems to be getting closer," Tentomon stated.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"It looks like a person." This was Takeru speaking.
"It does, doesn't it?" Said Sora.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"Do ya think it's the new kid?" Taichi asked squinting.
"Gennai did say the crest was summoning the next child and it would end up somewhere near us." Agumon remarked.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"You think we should, you know, try to catch it?" Biyomon asked uneasily.
"It looks like it's doing fine." Gomamon shrugged easily.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"I suppose we should at least try to help it." Palmon sighed reluctantly.
"We should." Gabumon agreed staring up at the sky, unmoving.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"You know, we should start moving if we want to help it." Jyou adjusted his glasses.
"True." Yamato commented not moving.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
"It's a boy." Patamon said suddenly, while watching in fascination as the form grew bigger the closer it got to the ground.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-"
The boy's screeching stopped abruptly as he disappeared into the top of a tree. They could hear muffled cracks as he hit the branches, and finally an audible 'THUMP!' as he found the ground.
The group quickly made their way over to where the new boy had fallen. He sat up with groan and shook his head, as he brushed dirt and leaves off of his marigold colored shirt. Then he bounced to his feet, brushed his hair out of his eyes-
Brandy-colored eyes, amber eyes, Mimi's eyes . . .
-And grinned cheerily, albeit looking more than a little dazed. "Hullo there! I'm Kohaku Tachikawa, nice to meet ya."
– – –