The Footsteps are Fading

Chapter Eight

With fingertips trailing across the interior of the passageway, leaving smudged fingerprints that were at once eaten by dew, Taichi and Sora slid into the darkness that beckoned to them, walking into an existence devoid of any shred of light at all. The walls seemed to be constructed of some sort of asphalt, but the floor was spongy and unadorned. There was silence everywhere; swallowing their uneven footsteps, devouring all trace of their breathing, and biting a trail of uneasiness into their minds. No sound welcomed their straining ears, nor did any discernable figure appear before their deprived eyes. So they pushed onward, (what felt like) against the grain, and into the black vastness of the tunnel. It smelled sinisterly sweet, like the entrails of a ripped petal, like the salt of the sea, and all resided in their sensitive noses, awaiting their categorization and filing.

Time, a so unnecessary thing, would give them no comfort here. It had left them at the doorway, bidding adieu and wishing them luck on their further traveling. No, time, that wretched, conniving wench, was too cowardly to fight alongside of them. So they plodded along, pulling their shoes out of the mud every now and then, and always endeavoring to see some light ahead, or feel a change in scenery. Neither happened for well upon an hour, and such a pressing sentiment of claustrophobia was settling upon their diminishing wits, that they were quite ready to sprint back the way they had came and report that nothing was to be found, just a dead end, when their feet gave off a hollow echo.

Taichi squatted and touched his fingers to the floor.

"It's tile," he reported, erecting himself. 

Now they hastened forward, drinking in the happy sounds of a real floor, with hopes of finding a room ahead of sorts. That's all they were expecting, though, and that would of perhaps been their downfall had not Sora suddenly tripped. Taichi's hand caught her and he was just about to ask of her well-being when a grating sound issued from up ahead. Both snapped their heads to its general location, their hearts abruptly holding a heavy burden of fear. They waited for a moment in total silence, barely twitching, when they heard the sound again. Taichi squatted again and picked up the thing Sora had tripped upon. His fingers slid across the smooth surface of it, acknowledged its bumpy edges, its slim middle and long form, then he held it to his nose and doubled back in surprise, flinging the bone from himself. Before he could hear the expected clatter, the grating sound repeated, and their was a slight cracking noise, then all was still.

"This place is…"

"Booby-trapped?"

Taichi nodded, though all movement was lost in the dark.

"How do we…"

He pressed past Sora with his hands held out in front of him. Soon enough they hit cold, rusted metal, and he calculated with his hands the distance between each spike. Enough for a person to squeeze through…

"Sora, would you go through these, please?"

"Are you out of your mind! There's no way I'm going through those things!" While she spoke the spikes slid back into the wall with much ado.

"Look, they're timed for a pretty long time, maybe around thirty seconds of sitting still."

"Thirty seconds! Hey! I've got children! Why don't you do it?"

"Well, alright, but if I get through you're going to have to do it in the end anyway."

She sighed, but that was all.

He waited patiently by the spikes until they flung back out at an alarming speed. Quickly, he stuck his leg through one of the lower holes and stooped to its level. With maybe an inch spared above and below his back from the spikes, he edged his body in until he had half of his body on the other side. Unexpectedly, the spikes receded. Options flying as fast as the devil could have carried them whirled in his head as he stayed absolutely still, wondering what would happen if he flung himself out of harm's way. But the options were swiftly deserted as the spikes more or less flew out of their hiding places, catching him in an odd design. Even with his immovable self, one gashed him roughly on the shoulder, but he disregarded it and hurriedly pulled the rest of himself through. On the other side, he could just perceive the spikes sliding like eels back into their holes. He cursed inwardly at them and touched his burning shoulder. Cursed, rusty metal – it'd probably give him an infection.

"Tai? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," and after a pause, "maybe you shouldn't do this…"

Like a ghost, he felt Sora's hand upon his shoulder.

"Do what?"

How not surprising…

"You're hurt! Jesus, Tai, that's deep…I wish I had something to dress it with, but…"

"It's alright, I'll be fine."

He felt her fancy him lying, but there was really nothing to be done about it right now; curing would have to wait like always. So they set off again, this time with Taichi leading in the front in case any more spikes popped out, because, like Sora had said, she had children and couldn't afford to die.

Luck filled time's abandoned post for the time being, and they made it to the expected room without further hindrances.

Shreds of light finally harassed their eyesight, and, as dim as it was, it took them a good five minutes to accustom to the change. When their vision was a hundred percent again, they took in the enormous room before them, though it was more than an eyeful.

Blazing torches were distanced several feet from each other on the wall, draperies fell like red satin snakes from ceiling to floor, the floor itself was pitted in many places, with puddles of water residing in the deeper elevations. They were standing clear near to the roof, with the room set sprawling down below them, and as far as the brightness of the torches would allow them to perceive. In the center of such segue beauty, sat that which they were sure to be the enemy. Yet Taichi's sharp eye recognized someone standing close to the enemy, someone…

A tugging feeling pulled at him as he finally focused on the woman's hair, beauty – it told him what he had convinced himself of so many nights ago, while lying in bed: this woman would always be with him no matter what would come to pass. Be she an angel or a devil, Taichi knew that this was a person who, out of animosity or respect, would constantly be with him.

He exhaled his contained breath sharply. What a ride his life would finally turn into.

With a grace evocative of all things divine, the woman lifted her golden eyes up to Taichi's, and smiled such a disturbing, hell-provoking smile, it instantly occurred to Taichi that the rest of his life would be spent in an inferno outside of the devil's residence, with this woman as his sole captor.

Oblivious to the unlucky fate that the stars had bestowed upon her brother, Hikari nestled next to Daisuke, more for warmth than for affection. The clouds still remained locked, and had brought with their cold-heartedness a chill wind that ravaged the trees around the two humans and sent them into violent shivers. Daisuke, for all his pain, managed to bring an arm up and wrap it around the frail body of Hikari. The night (or day, it was still impossible to tell) blackened into a thick cold dread that smeared like peanut butter over the couple, muffling their whimpers to a low whisper in the background. The foreground itself was too occupied with the wind and the clouds to take heed to these two suffering companions, and duly went along with its business, ignoring their trepidation.

"Davis?" Hikari managed to say between her chattering teeth.

He only nodded against her body in response and pushed closer into her small warmth.

"Let's go sit in just the entrance of the tunnel to get away from this wind."

With a short and painful jolt of the head, Daisuke agreed. Crawling slowly and carefully, he followed her over to the open tunnel and eased himself onto one of the lower stairs. The wind howled angrily at their departure, skimming like the ocean on crevices that littered the ground, searching for their bodies to hassle. Aside from the cold dampness in the tunnel, it was warmer without the wind and they now could sit opposite from each other, more comfortably. Hikari looked longingly into the darkness, wondering where her brother was and if maybe he was looking back to where she sat right now, pondering the same question.

Daisuke half-closed the door, propping it up with a stick.

"Hikari…" his mouth loved the feel of her name, "do we have any food left?"

She dug through the packs sitting next to her and pulled out a small container filled to the brim with a pasty, green substance.

"Mm, how 'bout straight wasabi?"

 He pulled a face and dragged one of the bags up to his hand, reached in and lifted out some plastic container. He opened it and sniffed.

"Heh, with California sushi, too. Can't be too expired…"

He heard her laughing, but so did the tunnel, and it stole away most of her happiness before he could enjoy it. He shoved the package back in the bag and kicked it away from himself.

"Hikari," again his mouth got a treat, "do you think we should go after them?"

"It wouldn't help at all. We don't have our digimon…but neither do they."

"Hikari…"

"Why do you keep saying my name," she laughed, "I'm the only other person here!"

"Sorry."

"It's okay, it's just…weird how you're saying Hikari instead of Kari. I'm already creeped out enough without you going all serious on me."

"It's a serious time."

"Yeah, but shouldn't you be worried about keeping calm instead of freaking other people out?"

"I'm just responding to what's happening. Why should I run away from the truth that this is a desperate time?"

"Hm, well, maybe for the sake of your sanity."

"You mean your sanity; I'm fine with this."

Hikari was silent. Yeah, so what if it was only for her, wasn't that a legitimate reason enough to stop?

"Daisuke." She bit her tongue.

"Yeah?"

"I'm worthless, aren't I?"

"To what?"

"To you."

There was a long period of time when she didn't hear his voice again, which she took to be implying her truth. No, she wasn't worthless in a material way, but he really had no use for her soul, right?

"Hikari…what would it matter if you were worthless to me, which you're not be assured, because aren't you worth something to yourself? You shouldn't of had to ask me that question, because you should possess confidence enough to answer it for yourself. You are worthless in some way, we all are -"

"Davis-"

"- because what good are we to the next person but to ourselves? What good are any of us to all of us as a whole? We don't have worth now, I don't think that one person could ever truly have a complete worth without a complete mind."

"And we don't have a complete mind?"

"Of course not! How could we possibly fathom what else others believe? How could we see every person's thought and soul? Maybe if one could do that, then one would be whole, and then worth something. But until we find who that is, just live with the fact that we are ultimately worthless."

"Bravo, but that didn't answer my question."

"Yeah, I know, I was just hoping to throw you off track."

"So am I?"

"Considering what I said before…" he started, but shook his head. "No, Kari, you're not worthless to me, I don't even know where you got that conviction in the first place. But let me ask you this: what good am I to you?"

"Shut up," she whispered, and leaned over to kiss him.