PAUSE FOR BOURGEOIS LEGALITIES
"Digimon" and all characters and situations contained within are
copyrighted trademarks of Bandai, Saban Entertainment and Upper Deck.
Permission is hereby granted by the author to reproduce this document
unless you try to make money off of it; if so, please contact me first at
Calcite_McWhalen@hotmail.com. I may be a grown-up cartoon fan but I do know
my way around Title 17.
****
Opposites
****
"Alright, people, let's begin," Ken said, and sat down at the table. The meeting room that he and the others were using wasn't anything special as far as meeting rooms went, just a table, a wall-mounted whiteboard, and a large collection of chairs. A pot of coffee was quietly percolating over in the corner. Miyako reflected that coffee was a very good thing as she sat over a steaming cup, nursing it relaxedly.
"This is probably redundant," Ken admitted as he glanced around the room, "but we're all here, right?" Miyako was the first to respond, nodding slowly. After her conversation with Ken had been over yesterday she had somehow managed to be led back to her room before she had let the euphoria go to her head. She'd done it, she realized afterwards; not only had she withstood his sheer charm at close range, she'd also found a way to help out her friends too! She had a mixed victory, though. Thinking about it afterwards had mortified Miyako; she had acted without thinking, running on her emotions, and while they'd helped out her friends back home they'd also driven him away. She'd seen how red he had turned after she'd let go of him and knew what that meant - she'd embarrassed him, and badly. Even now, he was avoiding looking at her even while she snuck looks at him. She probably didn't have much of a chance with him now and that realization had slumped her shoulders slightly.
At the same time, however, she was slightly relieved that she didn't have the opportunity to travel down that path. There was something dark about Ken, something that was lurking back in the crevices of her mind. His voice, his face, the way he walked and talked; they all reached into the dense mists that surrounded her memories of when she was a Chosen, fighting the good fight, and unlocked something. She wasn't sure how, not yet, but Ken was definitely giving her a foreboding feeling, however small. A wasted night's worth of trying to recall what significance Ken wasn't helping much, either. She almost felt better about him when she thought that way. Almost.
"I'm ready," Angemon said. His wings were down, his helmet off, exposing the sternly masculine face and long blonde hair underneath. His dark blue eyes never left Ken as he nodded once, rod clutched in his left hand. To his left, Leomon nodded his assent, growling as he did so. Like Miyako, he also had a mug of coffee; unlike her he kept knocking the whole thing back in a single shot and would pour more from the pot. It seemed to have as much effect as water on him, Miyako marveled, but he did happen to be almost six hundred pounds of muscle and fur.
On the other side of the table, facing the two of them, sat the smooth, fiendishly seductive form of LadyDevimon, wings curled tightly against her back. "Piedmon sent me as his representative," she said, her voice husky and sensuous. "He has to oversee the most harsh realm in the digital world, remember." Her very presence set Miyako's teeth on edge. LadyDevimon wasn't wearing much and what she did wear was extremely flattering. Miyako was still dressed in the modest outfit given to her by the Keeper, her hair pulled back into a simple bun. More than once Miyako caught LadyDevimon giving her a contemptuous glare, one that Miyako returned every time.
If Ken was ignoring their byplay, however, Datamon was completely oblivious to it. He was poring over the reports that Vademon and Ken had given him and barely managed a brief glance up at Ken's request. Sitting at his left elbow was the Keeper, still clad in the thick robe he always wore, his hood up over his head. He waved slightly at Ken and said, "Girls, girls, let's keep things calm, okay?" Miyako and LadyDevimon broke off their latest staring contest and stared aside. For his part Ken still didn't comment on the ill will between the two women.
ShogunGeckomon decided to defuse the situation the only way he knew how; by distraction. He eased himself out of his vastly oversized chair, nodded once politely, and crashed back down onto the chair, throwing a tremor throughout the room. He barely fit into the room even after using his natural sizing powers to shrink himself down to almost human-size. The poor chair didn't have a chance against the giant Shogun and immediately crunched into pieces. ShogunGeckomon remained on the ground, his girth more than enough to allow him to remain at eye level with the other Administrators, who didn't give him much more than a passing glance.
Next to him, Chardsy couldn't help but stare. He was still wearing his street clothes, but they'd been cleaned while he was sleeping by a team of Penmon. They'd had a blast and managed to get things done right at the same time. Miyako had to hold back a quiet chortle as he caught the receiving end of ShogunGeckomon's dark glare and glanced away hurriedly. Chardsy still had quite a bit of catching up and fitting in before he'd really be used to the digital world. His gaze ended up on Elecmon, who had traveled with Angemon all the way from far-off File Island and the Primary Village that he ran to attend the meeting. Elecmon gave Chardsy a tolerant smile.
Stingmon sat on the other side of the table from Miyako. He had taken off his spiked shoulder guards for the meeting and a pleased Biyomon was perched on his left shoulder. Miyako had decided that the two made for fun watching; one would lean over and whisper something to the other, and they'd giggle to each other. It was fun watching a seven-foot insect giggle like a schoolkid and she shook her head slightly at their antics; there was obviously something between them. Ken seemed to agree. "Should we wait for the two of you to finish, Sting, or can we keep going here?" Despite his words he had an amused lilt to his voice, one that made something in Miyako resonate. She promptly put that in its place.
For his part, Stingmon jumped slightly when Ken called out to him, ruffling a startled Biyomon into sudden flight. "Oh, Regent! Yes, we're both ready to begin." Biyomon nodded her head even as she settled back down onto his shoulder.
Across the table, Palmon called out, "Are you two sure about that?" Biyomon nodded her head, suddenly looking a bit more red than pink. Stingmon controlled himself better, merely jerking his head stiffly up and down, looking something like a large mannequin. Miyako had to restrain the urge to yell out just how cute they looked together.
Ken nodded. "Alright then."
ShogunGeckomon levered himself up a bit. "What's all this about, anyway? I don't know about you others, but all I got was a quick e-mail saying, Come quick! Do you feel like telling me why?"
"It's about the old Chosen," Ken started. "They're in a world of trouble in the real world, and we're going to pull them out."
LadyDevimon leaned out across the table. "Why?" Miyako shot her a look that could fuse sand into glass. She wasn't alone in her ire; several others, including Leomon, Angemon, and ShogunGeckomon also replied in kind.
Miyako responded first, of course. "We've saved your world more times than I can count on one hand, that's why!"
"The Chosen have done amazing things when they were walking in our world," Leomon rumbled. His voice commanded attention, and the others were soon hanging onto his words. "When I was a mere kitten they had taken on major evil powers in our world, challenging the altered digimon of Apocalamon and his ilk time and again. They awoke the greatest powers in this world and in theirs. I say that we of the digital world owe them too much to merely abandon them to the powers of darkness; we must respond!" Miyako smiled gratefully at the lion, who nodded back.
Datamon glanced up from his paperwork. "I agree with the lion." There was a murmer of agreement from all of the other parties and somewhat louder ones from Biyomon and Palmon. LadyDevimon shook her head, frustrated.
"Fine, fine," she grated out. Miyako grinned cheerfully at her and received a spiteful look in return.
The Keeper decided to keep things moving. "What do we know about the situation?"
"The Chosen's home world has been more or less conquered by a corporation by the name of the Odaiba Group," Datamon explained. "This corporation has distributed energy-draining mechanisms disguised as the next major power source for the humans. They have also activated a new person-to-person interface called the VandeNet, a device that also streams out dark energy, which the energy-starved humans absorb like water. What goal the corporation has for turning humans evil is still unknown, but the fact of the matter is that they're doing it."
"What is this corporation doing to the Chosen themselves?" Palmon asked. There was an unsteady note to her voice.
"They're withdrawing the Sigils from them," Ken replied.
"The President's sucking out their power!" Miyako said, at the same time. The rest of the attendees exchanged confused looks between the two of them.
"Can you make that clearer?" a baffled Elecmon asked. "What, exactly, is a Sigil?"
It fell to the Keeper to answer that question, and he strode around the room as he lectured. "A Sigil is a physical representation of the personal trait that it represents. As far as I've been able to tell, only humans can get Sigils. Sigils look like tiny crystals, ones that glow faintly in a color that matches the trait that it represents, right? It's the Sigils, working with the Crests, that let a partner digimon Digevolve to the Perfect level."
Miyako's right eye was twitching by the end of the recital, and her hands were gripping the coffee cup far more tightly than was necessary. "Are you saying that I've always had this Sigil thing in me?"
The Keeper shook his head. "No. When you first arrived in the digital world, you started to grow one. As your Crest characteristics improved, so did your Sigil." He favored her with an upraised hand. "All Chosen are chosen, however, because of how well they react to the presence of a Sigil within themselves."
"I have it from a reliable source that the President has all of the Chosen at his base in the real world," Ken added once the Keeper had sat down. "He's going to extract the Sigils from them."
"He hasn't gotten around to it yet, has he?" Angemon asked, and the entire table both held its breath and turned towards the the Keeper. The Keeper shook his head, allowing the table's collection of stiff necks and taut fingertips to relax.
"What do you mean by 'extract'?" LadyDevimon asked, leaning forward again.
"Take 'em out," Chardsy answered, shivering slightly. "He's got some kinda crazy magic beam thingie that pulled it right the fuck outta Tachikawa." Miyako had been watching Ken out of the corner out of her eye - she hadn't gotten around to catching herself - and she saw him sneak a quick glance of his own at Palmon. Abruptly the mists in her mind parted for the briefest of moments, and she remembered: Palmon was Mimi's partner, and they had been exceptionally close even compared to the other Chosen. Miyako found herself both cursing Chardsy for his ignorance and sneaking her own looks at Palmon, who apparently hadn't picked up the connection.
"There's more to it than that," the Keeper interjected. "The Sigils won't just come out, and there's no magic spell that'll yank them out. The Chosen has to consciously reject the particular quality that the Sigil represents, and then it'll literally just spit itself out."
"They would never do such a thing!" Leomon growled out defensively. "All of the Chosen are strong of will and have a core of goodness. They would never be foolish!"
"You ain't payin' no attention, are ya?" Chardsy shot back. "I watched it happen right in front of me!" This time, both Palmon and Biyomon reacted. Angemon didn't look too good himself.
Palmon beat Biyomon to the punch. "Who?"
Chardsy was quick, but not quick enough; Ken cut him off before he could answer the question. "We'll talk about that later. Right now, we need to stay focused." Chardsy shot Ken a dark look but subsided. The three digimon at the end of the table got themselves back under control, but all three looked a bit pale; Angemon in particular stood out.
LadyDevimon decided to keep the conversation moving. "What can these Sigils do by themselves?"
"They emit the power contained within to whoever might have possession of them," Datamon responded. "Most theories involving them place them as a very advanced form of the Digimentals, in terms of what they can do by themselves. As such, they can do all of the things that the Digimentals can do, but with more raw power behind them."
"When I tangled with the President," Ken said, "he proved that he could heal himself with the Sigil he'd just acquired. Seeing as the Sincerity Digimental could do that, we can assume that the identical Sigil." Miyako snuck another look over at Palmon and this time she saw the inevitable shock, fear, and surprise on Palmon's face: she'd figured it out.
Palmon stood, face contorted. "Regent," she managed to say, "I'm sorry, but... where?"
"Medical wing, room 231, you've got permission," Ken responded quietly. "She shouldn't be conscious yet." Palmon turned and tore out the door, leaving a stunned group behind her. After a moment Chardsy got up, face confused and tired but determined despite that.
"Listen, guys," he explained, and the others looked at him. "I don't know jack about all this digital world crap, but I can deal with people easy. Tachikawa ain't gonna have a clue what to do or think when she wakes up, and havin' some nuts plant cryin' on her ain't gonna help things much. I'm goin' to the hospital." With that, he turned and jogged after the receding figure of Palmon. The others continued watching him go, Ken clicking on a little device that looked suspiciously like a cell phone and whispering into it for a moment.
"He could have been a Chosen, if he'd been in Japan," Leomon rumbled out softly. "That's enough on the need for action. When do we make our move?"
"Not yet."
The lion digimon snorted. "Regent. This is about as cut-and-dry a situation as we can get. We need to go in there."
Ken lifted a hand. "Where, then, are the Sigils? Does the President keep them on him, or are they on a shelf or in a safe? What safeguards does the President have to take care of his new prize? We don't know any of these things, and we can't ever know them all, but I do think that some planning is called for first."
Miyako was taken aback, pulling away from her coffee mug. Planning was all well and good, but this Regent guy, this Ken, he didn't sound very reassuring at all. In fact, he sounded very much like he didn't want to help at all! Miyako leaned over her coffee cup, trying to understand. Was he helping or not? "They'd probably be at his base in the real world," she murmured quietly.
"That wouldn't make any sense, my dear," LadyDevimon responded. "You know that the President has your friends; he knows that you know. He'd move them, probably to somewhere you couldn't get to at all." Datamon glanced up from his printouts, ready to interject something, but he was cut off by -
Stingmon leaned out towards the middle of the table, bringing Biyomon with him. "I agree. We don't have much of an idea of what we're up against - and remember, in the real world, dead is dead is dead. Nobody comes back when you die out there. We need to be really careful if we do this." Miyako happened to be pulling up from over the cup, and was facing both Ken and the Keeper. Therefore, she saw the dark look that Ken shot the Keeper. For his part, the Keeper didn't seem to notice.
"Wait a minute," LadyDevimon interjected. "This might not be that hard. If the Sigils are that powerful, shouldn't we be able to just find them with a detecting device?"
"Don't know," Datamon replied, shuffling his papers off to the side. "We weren't ever able to track down the Digimentals that way."
"They do," Biyomon pronounced, and all the others in the room turned to her. "When you partner's in line with his or her Sigil, you can pick up on where they are, and how they're feeling. It's more than just a vague sensation; it's more like you're part of them, and they are part of you, and both of you can feel each other."
"Fat lot of good that'll do us," ShogunGeckomon muttered, "with the Sigils outside of the Chosen."
"Maybe we can come up with a way to track down the Sigils using the Digimentals," the Keeper suggested. "They're pretty much the same thing, right?"
Ken glanced over at the hooded Keeper, and even Datamon had to pick up on the edge of resentment behind his tone of voice. "That won't work - if it did, the Chosen could have tracked down the Digimentals much more easily when they first arrived in the digital world, rather than having to wander around for so long." And that was that; Miyako's left eye started twitching again. Miyako had tried. She really had tried to be patient with this discussion, to let it play out, but she just couldn't take it any more. This Regent guy, he sounded like he was more worried about a bunch of stupid crystals rather than her friends! Not only that, but he thought he could comment on how well they'd done when they first got into the digital world? Granted, they had had to wander around for a while, but -
Her temper snapped.
Standing up suddenly, she shrieked, "I'm sick of this! You guys are talking about Sigils and Digi-thingies and whether or not we're worthy of your help, and you've completely forgotton about my friends! What's more important to you?!"
Ken was the poor fool who stuck his neck out. "Miyako, we're trying to figure out the best way of extracting your friends -"
She cut him off. "Extracting?" she bellowed at the suddenly shocked Ken. "What the hell do you mean by that?! Are they some resource that you'd have to 'extract' to be of any use?! Oh, wait, I remember now; they're just crystals that you want; the people who happen to have them don't matter at all to you!" She stormed out, hands clenched into tight fists, head down, hair streaming behind her as she ran.
For a long moment, they all just sat there: Ken looked to Stingmon, who glanced up at Biyomon, who was glaring at LadyDevimon, who was studiously examining her nails. After a moment Ken stood up, face cold. "I need a few moments. Stingmon, you're in charge." He turned and walked out the same way she'd left: hands clenched into fists.
****
Consuming.
Devouring.
EVERYWHERE!
She looked to the left but saw only the white, white to the right, white above and below. She'd seen this happen several times now - who could say just how many times? It felt like she'd been in here for a day and in for a year. How many times had this happened? Hikari had long since lost the mental abilities required to count. She had to focus on getting through this. Although she knew the truth; eventually, she'd lose the fight again. She always did in the end.
She was lying against a sturdy, smooth tree in a small, gladed part of the park near her apartment complex home; at least, what had been the park before the Odaiba Group had bought the place off the city and built their tower there. A few birds flickered here and there, and a butterfly pair was busily engaging itself in a game of tag, six inches from her nose. She could see a few yards in all directions before the pleasant scene gave way to a kind of blurry whiteness, like a fog of some sort, but it was far too bright for that.
Here it came.
It started much like it had always started. The butterflies decided that a few feet off to the right was a more appropriate spot and flew over there, their iridescent wings glittering in the early morning sun. Ahead of her, she could see emerging from the white a green-clad sandy-haired friend of hers, walking over with a large basket under one arm: Takeru. Of course, he also was holding a modest flower bouquet, but that was to be expected, right?
As he walked towards her he happened to stumble across an outstretched root, sending him and his carefully packed cargo sprawling out on the ground in front of her. She could feel her hand reach up and cover her giggling and Takeru shot her a cross look as gathered himself from his abrupt fall. His hand reached out, grasping for the flowers, and it was in that moment that the white advanced. Flowing like fog and now shining bright as a reflection of the sun on the water it charged across the expanse between itself and the hapless Takeru. It swept across his lower legs first, and the white stripped them of flesh in seconds, exposing pulsing blood vessels and rippling muscle before eating that, too, consuming it down to the bone. It wasn't until the white finally reached the whitened bones that Takeru finally began to scream.
The first time, it had caught her brutally by surprise. The next time, she'd screamed herself raw trying to get him to react, or turn around, or to get away from the white somehow. The sixth time she'd stopped trying, and she couldn't remember how long ago that had been.
The white continued up, devouring wholesale now, eating his thighs, arms, pelvis, and chest in a scant few seconds. Involuntarily Hikari screamed again, the horror just as sharp now as it had ever been before. Takeru didn't have time to draw a second breath before the white jumped up his chest, evaporating the rest of him almost instantly. But it wasn't sated there; it kept coming, eating the ground, the basket, even the flowers. The poor butterflies didn't even know it was coming until they too dissolved under the blistering white, transforming to dust before her blinded eyes. She couldn't even see, now, the light was far too much, and -
Her legs suddenly caught fire, the blinding white burning through and through with a punishing, searing flare. It seemed to take a long time before the pain spread upwards, and even though Hikari knew that her legs were long since gone they still sent their wail of pain up to her brain. It kept coming, cutting though her lower torso, moving upwards towards the rest of her, almost in passing setting her arms ablaze with searing pain. It reached her chest -
And stopped dead. Something was holding it back, something inside her. A kind of brooding darkness was emanating from the center of her being, and it held the white back. Something about it beckoned to her, calling her to sieze it and somehow make everything better again. The first time, she'd shied away from anything that felt like darkness, and had suffered through the rest of it, feeling herself come apart at the seams before the pain was everywhere and she had simply passed out. The second time, she'd used it for a brief moment for respite before letting it go, shocked at herself, only to feel the white come on strong again and char her again. The third time, she'd grasped it and driven the white back and hated herself for it.
This time, she didn't even feel a morsel of regret. She simply embraced the darkness and shoved the light aside, restoring everything instantly, replacing the butterflies and the birds and even silly Takeru and his flowers. And it was all right again... except that the white didn't go anywhere but back to where it had been, and then it advanced again...
****
On the top floor of the Odaiba Group building, the President steepled his fingers, watching the various monitors scattered around him with an intensity that surprised the standing Assistant, his face painted with a darkly satisfied smirk on his face. The monitors showed various pictures: one showed the body of Hikari Yagami floating inside a tube, a breathing mask on her face; another showed Gatomon working a console near her; and a third was an EKG readout on the floating girl. His Assistant, who had long since been disgusted with what was on the screen, turned his head aside again. He had clasped his hands behind his back for some time now. "Sir... is this necessary?"
The President looked up at his Assistant. "Of course it is. In order to obtain the Sigil we have to convince Hikari that it is in her best interests to ignore her natural predilections and embrace the darkness as a whole, and reject its opposite."
"How do you know what characteristic will be the Chosen's natural predilection?" the Assistant asked his master.
Distracted by the cameras, he answered, "Oh, I used to know them all well, once upon a time. You might say that we were business rivals - they opposed a real estate deal that I'd been working on at the time."
The Assistant wasn't especially convinced by this explanation but allowed his suspicions to drain away; in the end, he was only an Assistant, and his boss had to know best. If he didn't, he wouldn't be the boss, now would he? For his part, the President had stopped worrying about his Assistant and focused on another camera, one that displayed Gatomon, working the terminal that controlled the chemical flow into the tube that Hikari Yagami was currently occupying. It was impossible to miss both the evil grin on Gatomon's face nor the slowly spreading black spots in her already blotchy fur.
The President's smirk grew larger. There was nothing quite like killing two birds with one stone.
****
Miyako had gotten about halfway across the palace grounds before her anger broke.
The Palace was intended more for usefulness than reflection, but when the Regent had put a very artistically inclined Cherrymon architect in charge of the Palace's design team he was practically asking for something that could do both. The Palace wasn't simply a large building; it was a roughly hexagonal complex, with meandering fields, a dark and fresh forest, and a beautiful lake system set out in the resulting open center. There were the occasional vendor and cleaning stands but it was more or less open and, seeing as the lunch hour hadn't arrived yet, largely unoccupied. It made a great place for meditation and free thinking.
The cheerful forest certainly didn't suit her mood any, but it was just as good a place as any to sit down and feel bad for herself. She'd gone and told him off. Her mind couldn't manage to move past that place in her head. She'd gone and told him off. She knew that she was justified, that he had no right to think of her friends as objects, that he certainly didn't have any right to talk about their old exploits in that manner, but still - she'd gone and told him off. That did it, right there. She didn't have any chance now, no sir, did she? It's alright, though, right? That nameless something that had been bothering her about the high and mighty Ken wouldn't bother her anymore, now. She didn't have to be confused anymore, because she'd gone and told him off.
So why did not being confused make her feel so very awful?
Considering her mood, it wasn't any surprise that she didn't hear the footsteps crunching through the undergrowth until they were almost right on top of her. Glancing up, she half expected to see Ken, coming to toss her out of his world. But no; the Keeper had decided to come over and say hello. His normal hooded robe concealed his face, but his body language made up for it; he sat down carefully, pulling himself into an meditative position, and turned his shadowed head towards Miyako. "So... feel any better for being out here?"
"How'd you find me?" she asked, not glancing up.
"Easily. I can sense where any Chosen is if they're in this world. But you didn't answer my question."
"Not really," she said, looking over at him. She'd let down her hair, and was toying with one particular strand as she responded. "I suppose that he's decided to get rid of me."
"Don't act like that," he replied, an edge of sternness in his voice. "You and I both know that Ken is rational enough to get past one little outburst."
"It wasn't little."
The Keeper chuckled a bit at that. "You don't know what Ken thinks 'little' is, do you?"
"Hey!" she said, jerking her head up, but the Keeper cut off her quick response.
"Here in the digital world 'little' is a bit of shouting and ruffled feelings. 'Big' would be an description of a Deltamon that wanted a village to walk over and wouldn't take no for an answer." The Keeper sat back on his haunches, out of the carefully adopted stance. "You can relax; the others have already moved past it, provided that you don't do it every time you see them."
Miyako flipped the little piece of hair away and started on another one. "Where is he, then?"
"The answer depends on the question underneath it, doesn't it?"
"Don't give me stupid mental games," Miyako snapped. "Either answer the question or don't."
"Fine," the Keeper replied easily. "He's currently trying to psych himself up to come out here."
That particular answer was not one that Miyako was expecting. "Huh?"
"He's trying to convince himself that coming out here would be a good idea, and he's trying to figure out what to say." Miyako looked at the Keeper, still shocked despite herself. Was he confused or just shy? The Keeper, seeing her soul written on her face, decided to answer her unspoken question. "Ken isn't very good at talking to people he's not comfortable with. On one level, he knows that he got caught up in talking about your friends as just the holders of their various Sigils, and not important in and of themselves, and he probably feels awful about it. On the other hand, he's not sure how to say that in a way that you'll listen to, and he's pretty sure that you won't listen regardless. And, of course, he needs you to show him where the other Chosen are - it's a big world, and they weren't kidding in the meeting when they told us that we can't track the Chosen."
"So... he's just confused about what to say?" Miyako said slowly, sorting through what the Keeper had told her.
"That's the whole of it," he responded, and when he did the obvious course of action was laid out in Miyako's mind; she stood up, strong-arming her hair back into a messy bun.
"Two things before you go," she said. The Keeper had been picking himself up off the ground, but he stopped and looked levelly at her, nodding his shrouded head once. "First, how do you know so much about Ken?"
The Keeper sighed, deeply. "I don't want to talk about that right now," he responded heavily. "I knew you'd ask that, and I thought about it, but I don't want to say anything right now."
Miyako pursed her lips. "What's so bad about it that you think I can't know?"
"I can't, Miyako," he responded. "Right now, I can't do that. I'd have to talk to him and get his permission before I could do that."
"Fine. Then at least tell me why I can't see what you look like."
The Keeper chortled a bit. "You really want to know? It's because you'll judge me by what I look like, rather than by who I am."
He said that with such certainty that Miyako had a hard time questioning him, but she was up to the task. She wasn't that... that blind! "Geez! How do you know that?!"
The Keeper gave her a level stare. "Trust me." She didn't have a quick response for the utter conviction in his voice; and when she didn't say anything he got up, dusted down his robes, and walked away. Miyako watched him go, sauntering through the trees, and as such saw when he encountered another person, not far from where she was. The second person gave him a quick glance, then moved by without a word. The Keeper, for his part, kept going, not responding or even looking at the second person, who coalesced into the form of Ken as he entered the better part of Miyako's sight range.
Ken was quite the sight; rather than the usual blue-grey uniform he'd usually worn, he was clad in a loose silken shirt and pants made from some kind of soft material that she'd never seen before. His entire outfit was a navy blue, with white highlights. His hair wasn't tied in a tail anymore either - he had allowed it to hang loosely around his head. His expression was open with just a hint of determination in it. Miyako was blindsided. Fuzzily, she remembered something about him being unsettling, but that was small and seemed very far away. She also remembered that she was supposed to be angry with this person, and that was enough to snap her out of it.
She could tell from his gait that he'd come to seek forgiveness for his transgressions. Well, she wouldn't just let him have it - he'd have to work for it. Her eyes hardened, just slightly, and she made a show of sitting back down. Apparently, from his expression, he realized that he'd have to earn it. "Miyako. Do you mind talking to me?" he asked her quietly.
"What do we have to talk about?" she asked him. He winced slightly, but kept on a brave front and kept going.
"Well, there is the matter of the way we - that is, the administrators and I, were talking about your Chosen friends."
Glancing at him with a hard gaze, her eyes 'accidently' met his for a moment. She was quite proud that she was able to go on without losing her composure after encountering those intensely dark orbs. "How do you think I was going to react?" she asked him, her tone just slightly on this side of harsh. "You were acting like you didn't care about my friends at all. It was just those stupid Sigil things that had you and your little minions interested."
"That's not it at all," he protested quietly. "We care about the Sigils, certainly, but it would make the most sense if the President kept the Chosen near to the Sigils. If we find the Sigils, we can be reasonably certain that we'll find your friends."
"How do you know that?" she demanded.
He shrugged. "The Keeper said so, and he's the Chosen specialist. His reasoning was that the President hasn't been able to extract all of the Sigils yet, and so he'd keep the others around to discourage the ones that are left." Miyako nodded once, then glanced up at him, and decided that he'd earned it for now. She nodded again, but much more slowly this time; an inviting gesture.
She watched him gather up his courage in the form of a slow breath and his neck stiffening. It wasn't much, but she caught it. "But that doesn't excuse forgetting that they're human. Can you forgive me for that, Miyako?"
"Are you sorry?" she shot out, leaning forward, suddenly finding the impulse to grin slightly. Inside, she realized: I was trying not to do that, and it slipped by anyway!
For his part, Ken seemed uncertain by how direct she was being. "Uh... I'm sorry?" he said hesitantly, as if was worried about her response.
He should have been. "Oh, that's all I get?" she asked haughtily. "Be a man and say it like you mean it, or else don't try!" She turned her nose up at him, something that had Ken taken aback, confused for a moment; but abruptly his vision seemed to clear, and his mouth twitched once in a manner that could only be called mischievious. Miyako suddenly had a sinking feeling -
Ken picked her right up off her seat by her arms, setting her down and kneeling in front of her, head bowed over her right hand. "For referring to your dearest friends as inanimate objects, would you accept my humblest apologies, Miyako?" he asked earnestly.
She was totally unprepared for Ken being so direct, and with both her hand and head tingling slightly she could only murmer out a shaken, red-faced, "O-of course." He let her stay like that for a moment, not daring to breathe; then he nodded once, grinned, and stood back up, taking a look at her flustered face. She turned her eyes away, trying not to meet his gaze. "You didn't need to do that," she managed to say.
"You told me to say it like I meant it," he responded smartly, and broke the spell; her blush stayed the same, but one eyebrow snapped down dangerously and started twitching, and her hands curled into fists. All in all, a foolish manuever. "Regent or not, you'll pay for this, Ken!" She jumped to her feet and burst out laughing at the surprise on his face. He was off and running, Miyako close behind, shouting and laughing all the way back to the complex.
****
The medical wing was not a pleasant place, Chardsy reflected, but few of them were; at least this one was much better than the ones back home. White-clad Wizardmon floated around the halls, above the streams of orderlies and the healthier patients. The harsh antiseptic smell that permeated his home hospitals wasn't here; instead, there was a generally clean and outdoorsy smell that came from the Floramon nurses whose job it was to run the place. Still, Chardsy could hear the various unpleasant growls or squeaks of misery or pain, and more than one Wizardmon calling for an instrument from an assistant. At least he didn't have much brainpower to contribute to observing the place. It took most of what he had to keep running after Palmon. For a four-foot plant she could set an amazing pace when she wanted to.
Room 231 was a corner room, positioned to face the waterfront and the docks there. Huge windows filled the room, which were covered with drapes to allow the patient to sleep. Chardsy reached the room just in time to see Palmon put both hand-tendrils to her mouth and gasp softly. He took a quick look at Mimi and saw her like he'd never seen a picture of her; thin and drawn under the fluorescent lights, sunken eyes staring at the ceiling. From how smooth the covers were around her Chardsy guessed that she hadn't moved since she'd gotten there.
Palmon threw herself onto the bed, clambering to look into the face of her old best friend. "Mimi!" she shouted hoarsely. "Mimi, it's me, Palmon!"
Mimi turned a sapped gaze on Palmon, and her eyelids flickered once. "Hi, Palmon," she managed to say quietly.
"Oh, Mimi," Palmon sobbed, and embraced the prone Mimi. "I'm so sorry I couldn't do anything..." Slowly, Mimi put her arms around Palmon. To Chardsy, staring at the scene from the door, the movement from Mimi could be best described as automatic.
"There's nothing you could have done," Mimi said faintly, distantly, and released Palmon. Grief-stricken and now confused, Palmon pulled back.
"Mimi? What's wrong?" she asked tearfully. Mimi could only stare at her hands. "He was right, Palmon. It doesn't mean anything anymore. Nothing does." She spoke in a monotone. She looked back up at the now very worried Palmon. "The President guy proved it. He showed me how I don't care, how I stopped caring a long time ago."
"That's ridiculous," Palmon protested vehemently. "You were the only person who cared so much about everything that you couldn't help but think of everything, all the time! To everyone else you were a bit ditzy, but that was because you did care so much!"
Mimi's voice became a touch more animated, but just a touch. "I was just a ditz. And I didn't care about anything but myself back then." She moved now, to lower her hands back down. Her eyes were empty. "I don't even care about that, now."
Palmon opened her mouth to tell Mimi how wrong she was -
And the room exploded with light, seemingly coming from all directions. It was so bright that Mimi immediately covered her eyes, that Palmon ducked down. After a moment Mimi could look up again and saw that the window curtains had been abruptly pulled back. Standing with his arms crossed, outlined and shadowed by the light, was a very irate Chardsy.
"Tachikawa," he snarled out, "don' be like that! You ain't like that, or you'da never started that crazy Gardening Sincerity band o' yours! You ain't like the resta' us hopeless scrubs - you give a shit about the world!" He pulled out a Walkman and a few CD cases; tossing them on the bed, he continued, "Listen to that crap! You talk about nothin' but what people can do, and what love is, and how it does things to people, and otha' shit that I can't even get!" Palmon looked stricken by Chardsy's tone, but Mimi was listening. Her eyes weren't as dead as when he came in, so he kept bellowing.
"I don' wanna say this, but when I got in here, you scared the hell outta me! You and ya' band may have sold out to Odaiba, but that didn't stop you guys. You kept writing crap that gave people hope and got 'em feeling like there was somethin' to work for again. And now," he picked up his pitch, "I find you - you, who gave millions new hope - I find you moanin' and groanin' cuz big bad Mr. President told you off. Well that's bullshit! You gotta lot more in you than sittin' in a bed bein' down about nothin'!" He shook his head angrily. "Get off your ass, Tachikawa, and get better!" With that, he turned and marched out of the room.
Palmon watched him go, too shocked to do anything else, and Mimi let her gaze slip off of him. She shook her head. "He doesn't understand," Mimi said. "He doesn't get it. I don't care," she said again, but this time with a stubborn lilt to her voice that wasn't there before. The sensitive Palmon picked up on it right away, but rather than press Mimi she just hopped back up and sat next to her on the bed, wrapping her up with her tendrils. After a moment or two Mimi returned it, this time allowing herself to cry, to feel the pain of some terrible loss that she didn't even understand. If there was nothing else that she knew, it was that she could make it through this if Palmon was by her side. After all, a little voice said, she'd dyed her hair to remind her of Palmon's flower.
****
It was late and Datamon was tired, but his relentless nature wouldn't let him stop working on sorting through the mounds of information that surrounded him. Vademon's scan of Miyako had been very thorough but by nature completely random; and most of the information stored within, from favorite food to random trivia about armadillos, was totally useless. It fell to him to go through most of it, and while he'd managed to pull floor plans for what seemed to be the home base of the enemy, and a few interesting tidbits on what had to be contained inside, but the rest of it was junk that was only fit for the shredding bin next to him.
It was probably the late hour that had Datamon so off his guard that he missed a miniscule but potentially intriguing morsel of information. It wasn't directly related to the problem at hand so he took one look at it and dumped it into the nearby shredding box, joining a dozen other useless bits of computer information and phone numbers. The little piece of paper fell immediate victim to the shredding unit and was cleaved into tiny bits. It was never to reveal its terrible secret; the real name of the President of the Odaiba Group.
Yukio Oikawa.
****
****
Opposites
****
"Alright, people, let's begin," Ken said, and sat down at the table. The meeting room that he and the others were using wasn't anything special as far as meeting rooms went, just a table, a wall-mounted whiteboard, and a large collection of chairs. A pot of coffee was quietly percolating over in the corner. Miyako reflected that coffee was a very good thing as she sat over a steaming cup, nursing it relaxedly.
"This is probably redundant," Ken admitted as he glanced around the room, "but we're all here, right?" Miyako was the first to respond, nodding slowly. After her conversation with Ken had been over yesterday she had somehow managed to be led back to her room before she had let the euphoria go to her head. She'd done it, she realized afterwards; not only had she withstood his sheer charm at close range, she'd also found a way to help out her friends too! She had a mixed victory, though. Thinking about it afterwards had mortified Miyako; she had acted without thinking, running on her emotions, and while they'd helped out her friends back home they'd also driven him away. She'd seen how red he had turned after she'd let go of him and knew what that meant - she'd embarrassed him, and badly. Even now, he was avoiding looking at her even while she snuck looks at him. She probably didn't have much of a chance with him now and that realization had slumped her shoulders slightly.
At the same time, however, she was slightly relieved that she didn't have the opportunity to travel down that path. There was something dark about Ken, something that was lurking back in the crevices of her mind. His voice, his face, the way he walked and talked; they all reached into the dense mists that surrounded her memories of when she was a Chosen, fighting the good fight, and unlocked something. She wasn't sure how, not yet, but Ken was definitely giving her a foreboding feeling, however small. A wasted night's worth of trying to recall what significance Ken wasn't helping much, either. She almost felt better about him when she thought that way. Almost.
"I'm ready," Angemon said. His wings were down, his helmet off, exposing the sternly masculine face and long blonde hair underneath. His dark blue eyes never left Ken as he nodded once, rod clutched in his left hand. To his left, Leomon nodded his assent, growling as he did so. Like Miyako, he also had a mug of coffee; unlike her he kept knocking the whole thing back in a single shot and would pour more from the pot. It seemed to have as much effect as water on him, Miyako marveled, but he did happen to be almost six hundred pounds of muscle and fur.
On the other side of the table, facing the two of them, sat the smooth, fiendishly seductive form of LadyDevimon, wings curled tightly against her back. "Piedmon sent me as his representative," she said, her voice husky and sensuous. "He has to oversee the most harsh realm in the digital world, remember." Her very presence set Miyako's teeth on edge. LadyDevimon wasn't wearing much and what she did wear was extremely flattering. Miyako was still dressed in the modest outfit given to her by the Keeper, her hair pulled back into a simple bun. More than once Miyako caught LadyDevimon giving her a contemptuous glare, one that Miyako returned every time.
If Ken was ignoring their byplay, however, Datamon was completely oblivious to it. He was poring over the reports that Vademon and Ken had given him and barely managed a brief glance up at Ken's request. Sitting at his left elbow was the Keeper, still clad in the thick robe he always wore, his hood up over his head. He waved slightly at Ken and said, "Girls, girls, let's keep things calm, okay?" Miyako and LadyDevimon broke off their latest staring contest and stared aside. For his part Ken still didn't comment on the ill will between the two women.
ShogunGeckomon decided to defuse the situation the only way he knew how; by distraction. He eased himself out of his vastly oversized chair, nodded once politely, and crashed back down onto the chair, throwing a tremor throughout the room. He barely fit into the room even after using his natural sizing powers to shrink himself down to almost human-size. The poor chair didn't have a chance against the giant Shogun and immediately crunched into pieces. ShogunGeckomon remained on the ground, his girth more than enough to allow him to remain at eye level with the other Administrators, who didn't give him much more than a passing glance.
Next to him, Chardsy couldn't help but stare. He was still wearing his street clothes, but they'd been cleaned while he was sleeping by a team of Penmon. They'd had a blast and managed to get things done right at the same time. Miyako had to hold back a quiet chortle as he caught the receiving end of ShogunGeckomon's dark glare and glanced away hurriedly. Chardsy still had quite a bit of catching up and fitting in before he'd really be used to the digital world. His gaze ended up on Elecmon, who had traveled with Angemon all the way from far-off File Island and the Primary Village that he ran to attend the meeting. Elecmon gave Chardsy a tolerant smile.
Stingmon sat on the other side of the table from Miyako. He had taken off his spiked shoulder guards for the meeting and a pleased Biyomon was perched on his left shoulder. Miyako had decided that the two made for fun watching; one would lean over and whisper something to the other, and they'd giggle to each other. It was fun watching a seven-foot insect giggle like a schoolkid and she shook her head slightly at their antics; there was obviously something between them. Ken seemed to agree. "Should we wait for the two of you to finish, Sting, or can we keep going here?" Despite his words he had an amused lilt to his voice, one that made something in Miyako resonate. She promptly put that in its place.
For his part, Stingmon jumped slightly when Ken called out to him, ruffling a startled Biyomon into sudden flight. "Oh, Regent! Yes, we're both ready to begin." Biyomon nodded her head even as she settled back down onto his shoulder.
Across the table, Palmon called out, "Are you two sure about that?" Biyomon nodded her head, suddenly looking a bit more red than pink. Stingmon controlled himself better, merely jerking his head stiffly up and down, looking something like a large mannequin. Miyako had to restrain the urge to yell out just how cute they looked together.
Ken nodded. "Alright then."
ShogunGeckomon levered himself up a bit. "What's all this about, anyway? I don't know about you others, but all I got was a quick e-mail saying, Come quick! Do you feel like telling me why?"
"It's about the old Chosen," Ken started. "They're in a world of trouble in the real world, and we're going to pull them out."
LadyDevimon leaned out across the table. "Why?" Miyako shot her a look that could fuse sand into glass. She wasn't alone in her ire; several others, including Leomon, Angemon, and ShogunGeckomon also replied in kind.
Miyako responded first, of course. "We've saved your world more times than I can count on one hand, that's why!"
"The Chosen have done amazing things when they were walking in our world," Leomon rumbled. His voice commanded attention, and the others were soon hanging onto his words. "When I was a mere kitten they had taken on major evil powers in our world, challenging the altered digimon of Apocalamon and his ilk time and again. They awoke the greatest powers in this world and in theirs. I say that we of the digital world owe them too much to merely abandon them to the powers of darkness; we must respond!" Miyako smiled gratefully at the lion, who nodded back.
Datamon glanced up from his paperwork. "I agree with the lion." There was a murmer of agreement from all of the other parties and somewhat louder ones from Biyomon and Palmon. LadyDevimon shook her head, frustrated.
"Fine, fine," she grated out. Miyako grinned cheerfully at her and received a spiteful look in return.
The Keeper decided to keep things moving. "What do we know about the situation?"
"The Chosen's home world has been more or less conquered by a corporation by the name of the Odaiba Group," Datamon explained. "This corporation has distributed energy-draining mechanisms disguised as the next major power source for the humans. They have also activated a new person-to-person interface called the VandeNet, a device that also streams out dark energy, which the energy-starved humans absorb like water. What goal the corporation has for turning humans evil is still unknown, but the fact of the matter is that they're doing it."
"What is this corporation doing to the Chosen themselves?" Palmon asked. There was an unsteady note to her voice.
"They're withdrawing the Sigils from them," Ken replied.
"The President's sucking out their power!" Miyako said, at the same time. The rest of the attendees exchanged confused looks between the two of them.
"Can you make that clearer?" a baffled Elecmon asked. "What, exactly, is a Sigil?"
It fell to the Keeper to answer that question, and he strode around the room as he lectured. "A Sigil is a physical representation of the personal trait that it represents. As far as I've been able to tell, only humans can get Sigils. Sigils look like tiny crystals, ones that glow faintly in a color that matches the trait that it represents, right? It's the Sigils, working with the Crests, that let a partner digimon Digevolve to the Perfect level."
Miyako's right eye was twitching by the end of the recital, and her hands were gripping the coffee cup far more tightly than was necessary. "Are you saying that I've always had this Sigil thing in me?"
The Keeper shook his head. "No. When you first arrived in the digital world, you started to grow one. As your Crest characteristics improved, so did your Sigil." He favored her with an upraised hand. "All Chosen are chosen, however, because of how well they react to the presence of a Sigil within themselves."
"I have it from a reliable source that the President has all of the Chosen at his base in the real world," Ken added once the Keeper had sat down. "He's going to extract the Sigils from them."
"He hasn't gotten around to it yet, has he?" Angemon asked, and the entire table both held its breath and turned towards the the Keeper. The Keeper shook his head, allowing the table's collection of stiff necks and taut fingertips to relax.
"What do you mean by 'extract'?" LadyDevimon asked, leaning forward again.
"Take 'em out," Chardsy answered, shivering slightly. "He's got some kinda crazy magic beam thingie that pulled it right the fuck outta Tachikawa." Miyako had been watching Ken out of the corner out of her eye - she hadn't gotten around to catching herself - and she saw him sneak a quick glance of his own at Palmon. Abruptly the mists in her mind parted for the briefest of moments, and she remembered: Palmon was Mimi's partner, and they had been exceptionally close even compared to the other Chosen. Miyako found herself both cursing Chardsy for his ignorance and sneaking her own looks at Palmon, who apparently hadn't picked up the connection.
"There's more to it than that," the Keeper interjected. "The Sigils won't just come out, and there's no magic spell that'll yank them out. The Chosen has to consciously reject the particular quality that the Sigil represents, and then it'll literally just spit itself out."
"They would never do such a thing!" Leomon growled out defensively. "All of the Chosen are strong of will and have a core of goodness. They would never be foolish!"
"You ain't payin' no attention, are ya?" Chardsy shot back. "I watched it happen right in front of me!" This time, both Palmon and Biyomon reacted. Angemon didn't look too good himself.
Palmon beat Biyomon to the punch. "Who?"
Chardsy was quick, but not quick enough; Ken cut him off before he could answer the question. "We'll talk about that later. Right now, we need to stay focused." Chardsy shot Ken a dark look but subsided. The three digimon at the end of the table got themselves back under control, but all three looked a bit pale; Angemon in particular stood out.
LadyDevimon decided to keep the conversation moving. "What can these Sigils do by themselves?"
"They emit the power contained within to whoever might have possession of them," Datamon responded. "Most theories involving them place them as a very advanced form of the Digimentals, in terms of what they can do by themselves. As such, they can do all of the things that the Digimentals can do, but with more raw power behind them."
"When I tangled with the President," Ken said, "he proved that he could heal himself with the Sigil he'd just acquired. Seeing as the Sincerity Digimental could do that, we can assume that the identical Sigil." Miyako snuck another look over at Palmon and this time she saw the inevitable shock, fear, and surprise on Palmon's face: she'd figured it out.
Palmon stood, face contorted. "Regent," she managed to say, "I'm sorry, but... where?"
"Medical wing, room 231, you've got permission," Ken responded quietly. "She shouldn't be conscious yet." Palmon turned and tore out the door, leaving a stunned group behind her. After a moment Chardsy got up, face confused and tired but determined despite that.
"Listen, guys," he explained, and the others looked at him. "I don't know jack about all this digital world crap, but I can deal with people easy. Tachikawa ain't gonna have a clue what to do or think when she wakes up, and havin' some nuts plant cryin' on her ain't gonna help things much. I'm goin' to the hospital." With that, he turned and jogged after the receding figure of Palmon. The others continued watching him go, Ken clicking on a little device that looked suspiciously like a cell phone and whispering into it for a moment.
"He could have been a Chosen, if he'd been in Japan," Leomon rumbled out softly. "That's enough on the need for action. When do we make our move?"
"Not yet."
The lion digimon snorted. "Regent. This is about as cut-and-dry a situation as we can get. We need to go in there."
Ken lifted a hand. "Where, then, are the Sigils? Does the President keep them on him, or are they on a shelf or in a safe? What safeguards does the President have to take care of his new prize? We don't know any of these things, and we can't ever know them all, but I do think that some planning is called for first."
Miyako was taken aback, pulling away from her coffee mug. Planning was all well and good, but this Regent guy, this Ken, he didn't sound very reassuring at all. In fact, he sounded very much like he didn't want to help at all! Miyako leaned over her coffee cup, trying to understand. Was he helping or not? "They'd probably be at his base in the real world," she murmured quietly.
"That wouldn't make any sense, my dear," LadyDevimon responded. "You know that the President has your friends; he knows that you know. He'd move them, probably to somewhere you couldn't get to at all." Datamon glanced up from his printouts, ready to interject something, but he was cut off by -
Stingmon leaned out towards the middle of the table, bringing Biyomon with him. "I agree. We don't have much of an idea of what we're up against - and remember, in the real world, dead is dead is dead. Nobody comes back when you die out there. We need to be really careful if we do this." Miyako happened to be pulling up from over the cup, and was facing both Ken and the Keeper. Therefore, she saw the dark look that Ken shot the Keeper. For his part, the Keeper didn't seem to notice.
"Wait a minute," LadyDevimon interjected. "This might not be that hard. If the Sigils are that powerful, shouldn't we be able to just find them with a detecting device?"
"Don't know," Datamon replied, shuffling his papers off to the side. "We weren't ever able to track down the Digimentals that way."
"They do," Biyomon pronounced, and all the others in the room turned to her. "When you partner's in line with his or her Sigil, you can pick up on where they are, and how they're feeling. It's more than just a vague sensation; it's more like you're part of them, and they are part of you, and both of you can feel each other."
"Fat lot of good that'll do us," ShogunGeckomon muttered, "with the Sigils outside of the Chosen."
"Maybe we can come up with a way to track down the Sigils using the Digimentals," the Keeper suggested. "They're pretty much the same thing, right?"
Ken glanced over at the hooded Keeper, and even Datamon had to pick up on the edge of resentment behind his tone of voice. "That won't work - if it did, the Chosen could have tracked down the Digimentals much more easily when they first arrived in the digital world, rather than having to wander around for so long." And that was that; Miyako's left eye started twitching again. Miyako had tried. She really had tried to be patient with this discussion, to let it play out, but she just couldn't take it any more. This Regent guy, he sounded like he was more worried about a bunch of stupid crystals rather than her friends! Not only that, but he thought he could comment on how well they'd done when they first got into the digital world? Granted, they had had to wander around for a while, but -
Her temper snapped.
Standing up suddenly, she shrieked, "I'm sick of this! You guys are talking about Sigils and Digi-thingies and whether or not we're worthy of your help, and you've completely forgotton about my friends! What's more important to you?!"
Ken was the poor fool who stuck his neck out. "Miyako, we're trying to figure out the best way of extracting your friends -"
She cut him off. "Extracting?" she bellowed at the suddenly shocked Ken. "What the hell do you mean by that?! Are they some resource that you'd have to 'extract' to be of any use?! Oh, wait, I remember now; they're just crystals that you want; the people who happen to have them don't matter at all to you!" She stormed out, hands clenched into tight fists, head down, hair streaming behind her as she ran.
For a long moment, they all just sat there: Ken looked to Stingmon, who glanced up at Biyomon, who was glaring at LadyDevimon, who was studiously examining her nails. After a moment Ken stood up, face cold. "I need a few moments. Stingmon, you're in charge." He turned and walked out the same way she'd left: hands clenched into fists.
****
Consuming.
Devouring.
EVERYWHERE!
She looked to the left but saw only the white, white to the right, white above and below. She'd seen this happen several times now - who could say just how many times? It felt like she'd been in here for a day and in for a year. How many times had this happened? Hikari had long since lost the mental abilities required to count. She had to focus on getting through this. Although she knew the truth; eventually, she'd lose the fight again. She always did in the end.
She was lying against a sturdy, smooth tree in a small, gladed part of the park near her apartment complex home; at least, what had been the park before the Odaiba Group had bought the place off the city and built their tower there. A few birds flickered here and there, and a butterfly pair was busily engaging itself in a game of tag, six inches from her nose. She could see a few yards in all directions before the pleasant scene gave way to a kind of blurry whiteness, like a fog of some sort, but it was far too bright for that.
Here it came.
It started much like it had always started. The butterflies decided that a few feet off to the right was a more appropriate spot and flew over there, their iridescent wings glittering in the early morning sun. Ahead of her, she could see emerging from the white a green-clad sandy-haired friend of hers, walking over with a large basket under one arm: Takeru. Of course, he also was holding a modest flower bouquet, but that was to be expected, right?
As he walked towards her he happened to stumble across an outstretched root, sending him and his carefully packed cargo sprawling out on the ground in front of her. She could feel her hand reach up and cover her giggling and Takeru shot her a cross look as gathered himself from his abrupt fall. His hand reached out, grasping for the flowers, and it was in that moment that the white advanced. Flowing like fog and now shining bright as a reflection of the sun on the water it charged across the expanse between itself and the hapless Takeru. It swept across his lower legs first, and the white stripped them of flesh in seconds, exposing pulsing blood vessels and rippling muscle before eating that, too, consuming it down to the bone. It wasn't until the white finally reached the whitened bones that Takeru finally began to scream.
The first time, it had caught her brutally by surprise. The next time, she'd screamed herself raw trying to get him to react, or turn around, or to get away from the white somehow. The sixth time she'd stopped trying, and she couldn't remember how long ago that had been.
The white continued up, devouring wholesale now, eating his thighs, arms, pelvis, and chest in a scant few seconds. Involuntarily Hikari screamed again, the horror just as sharp now as it had ever been before. Takeru didn't have time to draw a second breath before the white jumped up his chest, evaporating the rest of him almost instantly. But it wasn't sated there; it kept coming, eating the ground, the basket, even the flowers. The poor butterflies didn't even know it was coming until they too dissolved under the blistering white, transforming to dust before her blinded eyes. She couldn't even see, now, the light was far too much, and -
Her legs suddenly caught fire, the blinding white burning through and through with a punishing, searing flare. It seemed to take a long time before the pain spread upwards, and even though Hikari knew that her legs were long since gone they still sent their wail of pain up to her brain. It kept coming, cutting though her lower torso, moving upwards towards the rest of her, almost in passing setting her arms ablaze with searing pain. It reached her chest -
And stopped dead. Something was holding it back, something inside her. A kind of brooding darkness was emanating from the center of her being, and it held the white back. Something about it beckoned to her, calling her to sieze it and somehow make everything better again. The first time, she'd shied away from anything that felt like darkness, and had suffered through the rest of it, feeling herself come apart at the seams before the pain was everywhere and she had simply passed out. The second time, she'd used it for a brief moment for respite before letting it go, shocked at herself, only to feel the white come on strong again and char her again. The third time, she'd grasped it and driven the white back and hated herself for it.
This time, she didn't even feel a morsel of regret. She simply embraced the darkness and shoved the light aside, restoring everything instantly, replacing the butterflies and the birds and even silly Takeru and his flowers. And it was all right again... except that the white didn't go anywhere but back to where it had been, and then it advanced again...
****
On the top floor of the Odaiba Group building, the President steepled his fingers, watching the various monitors scattered around him with an intensity that surprised the standing Assistant, his face painted with a darkly satisfied smirk on his face. The monitors showed various pictures: one showed the body of Hikari Yagami floating inside a tube, a breathing mask on her face; another showed Gatomon working a console near her; and a third was an EKG readout on the floating girl. His Assistant, who had long since been disgusted with what was on the screen, turned his head aside again. He had clasped his hands behind his back for some time now. "Sir... is this necessary?"
The President looked up at his Assistant. "Of course it is. In order to obtain the Sigil we have to convince Hikari that it is in her best interests to ignore her natural predilections and embrace the darkness as a whole, and reject its opposite."
"How do you know what characteristic will be the Chosen's natural predilection?" the Assistant asked his master.
Distracted by the cameras, he answered, "Oh, I used to know them all well, once upon a time. You might say that we were business rivals - they opposed a real estate deal that I'd been working on at the time."
The Assistant wasn't especially convinced by this explanation but allowed his suspicions to drain away; in the end, he was only an Assistant, and his boss had to know best. If he didn't, he wouldn't be the boss, now would he? For his part, the President had stopped worrying about his Assistant and focused on another camera, one that displayed Gatomon, working the terminal that controlled the chemical flow into the tube that Hikari Yagami was currently occupying. It was impossible to miss both the evil grin on Gatomon's face nor the slowly spreading black spots in her already blotchy fur.
The President's smirk grew larger. There was nothing quite like killing two birds with one stone.
****
Miyako had gotten about halfway across the palace grounds before her anger broke.
The Palace was intended more for usefulness than reflection, but when the Regent had put a very artistically inclined Cherrymon architect in charge of the Palace's design team he was practically asking for something that could do both. The Palace wasn't simply a large building; it was a roughly hexagonal complex, with meandering fields, a dark and fresh forest, and a beautiful lake system set out in the resulting open center. There were the occasional vendor and cleaning stands but it was more or less open and, seeing as the lunch hour hadn't arrived yet, largely unoccupied. It made a great place for meditation and free thinking.
The cheerful forest certainly didn't suit her mood any, but it was just as good a place as any to sit down and feel bad for herself. She'd gone and told him off. Her mind couldn't manage to move past that place in her head. She'd gone and told him off. She knew that she was justified, that he had no right to think of her friends as objects, that he certainly didn't have any right to talk about their old exploits in that manner, but still - she'd gone and told him off. That did it, right there. She didn't have any chance now, no sir, did she? It's alright, though, right? That nameless something that had been bothering her about the high and mighty Ken wouldn't bother her anymore, now. She didn't have to be confused anymore, because she'd gone and told him off.
So why did not being confused make her feel so very awful?
Considering her mood, it wasn't any surprise that she didn't hear the footsteps crunching through the undergrowth until they were almost right on top of her. Glancing up, she half expected to see Ken, coming to toss her out of his world. But no; the Keeper had decided to come over and say hello. His normal hooded robe concealed his face, but his body language made up for it; he sat down carefully, pulling himself into an meditative position, and turned his shadowed head towards Miyako. "So... feel any better for being out here?"
"How'd you find me?" she asked, not glancing up.
"Easily. I can sense where any Chosen is if they're in this world. But you didn't answer my question."
"Not really," she said, looking over at him. She'd let down her hair, and was toying with one particular strand as she responded. "I suppose that he's decided to get rid of me."
"Don't act like that," he replied, an edge of sternness in his voice. "You and I both know that Ken is rational enough to get past one little outburst."
"It wasn't little."
The Keeper chuckled a bit at that. "You don't know what Ken thinks 'little' is, do you?"
"Hey!" she said, jerking her head up, but the Keeper cut off her quick response.
"Here in the digital world 'little' is a bit of shouting and ruffled feelings. 'Big' would be an description of a Deltamon that wanted a village to walk over and wouldn't take no for an answer." The Keeper sat back on his haunches, out of the carefully adopted stance. "You can relax; the others have already moved past it, provided that you don't do it every time you see them."
Miyako flipped the little piece of hair away and started on another one. "Where is he, then?"
"The answer depends on the question underneath it, doesn't it?"
"Don't give me stupid mental games," Miyako snapped. "Either answer the question or don't."
"Fine," the Keeper replied easily. "He's currently trying to psych himself up to come out here."
That particular answer was not one that Miyako was expecting. "Huh?"
"He's trying to convince himself that coming out here would be a good idea, and he's trying to figure out what to say." Miyako looked at the Keeper, still shocked despite herself. Was he confused or just shy? The Keeper, seeing her soul written on her face, decided to answer her unspoken question. "Ken isn't very good at talking to people he's not comfortable with. On one level, he knows that he got caught up in talking about your friends as just the holders of their various Sigils, and not important in and of themselves, and he probably feels awful about it. On the other hand, he's not sure how to say that in a way that you'll listen to, and he's pretty sure that you won't listen regardless. And, of course, he needs you to show him where the other Chosen are - it's a big world, and they weren't kidding in the meeting when they told us that we can't track the Chosen."
"So... he's just confused about what to say?" Miyako said slowly, sorting through what the Keeper had told her.
"That's the whole of it," he responded, and when he did the obvious course of action was laid out in Miyako's mind; she stood up, strong-arming her hair back into a messy bun.
"Two things before you go," she said. The Keeper had been picking himself up off the ground, but he stopped and looked levelly at her, nodding his shrouded head once. "First, how do you know so much about Ken?"
The Keeper sighed, deeply. "I don't want to talk about that right now," he responded heavily. "I knew you'd ask that, and I thought about it, but I don't want to say anything right now."
Miyako pursed her lips. "What's so bad about it that you think I can't know?"
"I can't, Miyako," he responded. "Right now, I can't do that. I'd have to talk to him and get his permission before I could do that."
"Fine. Then at least tell me why I can't see what you look like."
The Keeper chortled a bit. "You really want to know? It's because you'll judge me by what I look like, rather than by who I am."
He said that with such certainty that Miyako had a hard time questioning him, but she was up to the task. She wasn't that... that blind! "Geez! How do you know that?!"
The Keeper gave her a level stare. "Trust me." She didn't have a quick response for the utter conviction in his voice; and when she didn't say anything he got up, dusted down his robes, and walked away. Miyako watched him go, sauntering through the trees, and as such saw when he encountered another person, not far from where she was. The second person gave him a quick glance, then moved by without a word. The Keeper, for his part, kept going, not responding or even looking at the second person, who coalesced into the form of Ken as he entered the better part of Miyako's sight range.
Ken was quite the sight; rather than the usual blue-grey uniform he'd usually worn, he was clad in a loose silken shirt and pants made from some kind of soft material that she'd never seen before. His entire outfit was a navy blue, with white highlights. His hair wasn't tied in a tail anymore either - he had allowed it to hang loosely around his head. His expression was open with just a hint of determination in it. Miyako was blindsided. Fuzzily, she remembered something about him being unsettling, but that was small and seemed very far away. She also remembered that she was supposed to be angry with this person, and that was enough to snap her out of it.
She could tell from his gait that he'd come to seek forgiveness for his transgressions. Well, she wouldn't just let him have it - he'd have to work for it. Her eyes hardened, just slightly, and she made a show of sitting back down. Apparently, from his expression, he realized that he'd have to earn it. "Miyako. Do you mind talking to me?" he asked her quietly.
"What do we have to talk about?" she asked him. He winced slightly, but kept on a brave front and kept going.
"Well, there is the matter of the way we - that is, the administrators and I, were talking about your Chosen friends."
Glancing at him with a hard gaze, her eyes 'accidently' met his for a moment. She was quite proud that she was able to go on without losing her composure after encountering those intensely dark orbs. "How do you think I was going to react?" she asked him, her tone just slightly on this side of harsh. "You were acting like you didn't care about my friends at all. It was just those stupid Sigil things that had you and your little minions interested."
"That's not it at all," he protested quietly. "We care about the Sigils, certainly, but it would make the most sense if the President kept the Chosen near to the Sigils. If we find the Sigils, we can be reasonably certain that we'll find your friends."
"How do you know that?" she demanded.
He shrugged. "The Keeper said so, and he's the Chosen specialist. His reasoning was that the President hasn't been able to extract all of the Sigils yet, and so he'd keep the others around to discourage the ones that are left." Miyako nodded once, then glanced up at him, and decided that he'd earned it for now. She nodded again, but much more slowly this time; an inviting gesture.
She watched him gather up his courage in the form of a slow breath and his neck stiffening. It wasn't much, but she caught it. "But that doesn't excuse forgetting that they're human. Can you forgive me for that, Miyako?"
"Are you sorry?" she shot out, leaning forward, suddenly finding the impulse to grin slightly. Inside, she realized: I was trying not to do that, and it slipped by anyway!
For his part, Ken seemed uncertain by how direct she was being. "Uh... I'm sorry?" he said hesitantly, as if was worried about her response.
He should have been. "Oh, that's all I get?" she asked haughtily. "Be a man and say it like you mean it, or else don't try!" She turned her nose up at him, something that had Ken taken aback, confused for a moment; but abruptly his vision seemed to clear, and his mouth twitched once in a manner that could only be called mischievious. Miyako suddenly had a sinking feeling -
Ken picked her right up off her seat by her arms, setting her down and kneeling in front of her, head bowed over her right hand. "For referring to your dearest friends as inanimate objects, would you accept my humblest apologies, Miyako?" he asked earnestly.
She was totally unprepared for Ken being so direct, and with both her hand and head tingling slightly she could only murmer out a shaken, red-faced, "O-of course." He let her stay like that for a moment, not daring to breathe; then he nodded once, grinned, and stood back up, taking a look at her flustered face. She turned her eyes away, trying not to meet his gaze. "You didn't need to do that," she managed to say.
"You told me to say it like I meant it," he responded smartly, and broke the spell; her blush stayed the same, but one eyebrow snapped down dangerously and started twitching, and her hands curled into fists. All in all, a foolish manuever. "Regent or not, you'll pay for this, Ken!" She jumped to her feet and burst out laughing at the surprise on his face. He was off and running, Miyako close behind, shouting and laughing all the way back to the complex.
****
The medical wing was not a pleasant place, Chardsy reflected, but few of them were; at least this one was much better than the ones back home. White-clad Wizardmon floated around the halls, above the streams of orderlies and the healthier patients. The harsh antiseptic smell that permeated his home hospitals wasn't here; instead, there was a generally clean and outdoorsy smell that came from the Floramon nurses whose job it was to run the place. Still, Chardsy could hear the various unpleasant growls or squeaks of misery or pain, and more than one Wizardmon calling for an instrument from an assistant. At least he didn't have much brainpower to contribute to observing the place. It took most of what he had to keep running after Palmon. For a four-foot plant she could set an amazing pace when she wanted to.
Room 231 was a corner room, positioned to face the waterfront and the docks there. Huge windows filled the room, which were covered with drapes to allow the patient to sleep. Chardsy reached the room just in time to see Palmon put both hand-tendrils to her mouth and gasp softly. He took a quick look at Mimi and saw her like he'd never seen a picture of her; thin and drawn under the fluorescent lights, sunken eyes staring at the ceiling. From how smooth the covers were around her Chardsy guessed that she hadn't moved since she'd gotten there.
Palmon threw herself onto the bed, clambering to look into the face of her old best friend. "Mimi!" she shouted hoarsely. "Mimi, it's me, Palmon!"
Mimi turned a sapped gaze on Palmon, and her eyelids flickered once. "Hi, Palmon," she managed to say quietly.
"Oh, Mimi," Palmon sobbed, and embraced the prone Mimi. "I'm so sorry I couldn't do anything..." Slowly, Mimi put her arms around Palmon. To Chardsy, staring at the scene from the door, the movement from Mimi could be best described as automatic.
"There's nothing you could have done," Mimi said faintly, distantly, and released Palmon. Grief-stricken and now confused, Palmon pulled back.
"Mimi? What's wrong?" she asked tearfully. Mimi could only stare at her hands. "He was right, Palmon. It doesn't mean anything anymore. Nothing does." She spoke in a monotone. She looked back up at the now very worried Palmon. "The President guy proved it. He showed me how I don't care, how I stopped caring a long time ago."
"That's ridiculous," Palmon protested vehemently. "You were the only person who cared so much about everything that you couldn't help but think of everything, all the time! To everyone else you were a bit ditzy, but that was because you did care so much!"
Mimi's voice became a touch more animated, but just a touch. "I was just a ditz. And I didn't care about anything but myself back then." She moved now, to lower her hands back down. Her eyes were empty. "I don't even care about that, now."
Palmon opened her mouth to tell Mimi how wrong she was -
And the room exploded with light, seemingly coming from all directions. It was so bright that Mimi immediately covered her eyes, that Palmon ducked down. After a moment Mimi could look up again and saw that the window curtains had been abruptly pulled back. Standing with his arms crossed, outlined and shadowed by the light, was a very irate Chardsy.
"Tachikawa," he snarled out, "don' be like that! You ain't like that, or you'da never started that crazy Gardening Sincerity band o' yours! You ain't like the resta' us hopeless scrubs - you give a shit about the world!" He pulled out a Walkman and a few CD cases; tossing them on the bed, he continued, "Listen to that crap! You talk about nothin' but what people can do, and what love is, and how it does things to people, and otha' shit that I can't even get!" Palmon looked stricken by Chardsy's tone, but Mimi was listening. Her eyes weren't as dead as when he came in, so he kept bellowing.
"I don' wanna say this, but when I got in here, you scared the hell outta me! You and ya' band may have sold out to Odaiba, but that didn't stop you guys. You kept writing crap that gave people hope and got 'em feeling like there was somethin' to work for again. And now," he picked up his pitch, "I find you - you, who gave millions new hope - I find you moanin' and groanin' cuz big bad Mr. President told you off. Well that's bullshit! You gotta lot more in you than sittin' in a bed bein' down about nothin'!" He shook his head angrily. "Get off your ass, Tachikawa, and get better!" With that, he turned and marched out of the room.
Palmon watched him go, too shocked to do anything else, and Mimi let her gaze slip off of him. She shook her head. "He doesn't understand," Mimi said. "He doesn't get it. I don't care," she said again, but this time with a stubborn lilt to her voice that wasn't there before. The sensitive Palmon picked up on it right away, but rather than press Mimi she just hopped back up and sat next to her on the bed, wrapping her up with her tendrils. After a moment or two Mimi returned it, this time allowing herself to cry, to feel the pain of some terrible loss that she didn't even understand. If there was nothing else that she knew, it was that she could make it through this if Palmon was by her side. After all, a little voice said, she'd dyed her hair to remind her of Palmon's flower.
****
It was late and Datamon was tired, but his relentless nature wouldn't let him stop working on sorting through the mounds of information that surrounded him. Vademon's scan of Miyako had been very thorough but by nature completely random; and most of the information stored within, from favorite food to random trivia about armadillos, was totally useless. It fell to him to go through most of it, and while he'd managed to pull floor plans for what seemed to be the home base of the enemy, and a few interesting tidbits on what had to be contained inside, but the rest of it was junk that was only fit for the shredding bin next to him.
It was probably the late hour that had Datamon so off his guard that he missed a miniscule but potentially intriguing morsel of information. It wasn't directly related to the problem at hand so he took one look at it and dumped it into the nearby shredding box, joining a dozen other useless bits of computer information and phone numbers. The little piece of paper fell immediate victim to the shredding unit and was cleaved into tiny bits. It was never to reveal its terrible secret; the real name of the President of the Odaiba Group.
Yukio Oikawa.
****