"Everybody's got something
They had to leave behind
One regret from yesterday
That just seems to grow with time."
S Club 7—"Never Had a Dream Come True"

Echoes of Angels Who Won't Return
Prologue, May and December, 2002: "One Regret From Yesterday"

One month after the defeat of Lucemon and the rise of Ken Ichijouji as the Digimon Kaiser
If someone asked Kouji Minamoto his feelings on the subject, he'd say it was about time.

And it probably was. After nearly a month of disguised blushes, embarrassed speechlessness, and turning to Kouji for advice, Kouichi and Izumi were finally going out. It was true that at one time, Kouji had a bit of a crush on Izumi influenced only by hormones that he hadn't learned to control yet, but he was well over it now, thinking of her as no more than one of his closest friends. If anything, he was relieved; now he could spend more time on his music than he did on telling them to get together. Besides, things were getting stressful at home: His stepmother had just found out something important at the doctor's, and it was causing her to be more emotional toward everything. Kouji had caught her crying late one night, and it had done nothing more than to disturb him. He hoped whatever it was she'd found out, it wasn't cancer; Kouichi had said that was what killed their grandmother. During the past month, he'd actually become somewhat close to his stepmother, and he didn't want to go through the agony Kouichi had at watching their grandmother slowly slip away. His father began worrying more and more about money—something unusual for a family as well off as they were—and was searching the phone book for different doctors. Add that stress to a brother and a friend continually asking him for advice on love—a subject he had literally no knowledge of and no experience in—and it was enough to make any sane eleven-year-old a raving lunatic. But even though he wasn't just an average, everyday, sane eleven-year-old due to the special circumstances of his emotional revolution the previous month, he was completely relieved when his one piece of advice: "Leave me alone and go talk to him/her" had been successful.

It was May 17, a Saturday, and Kouji was just now realizing how fortunate he was that Japan's regular six-day school week had been shortened to an American-like five. Though many of the more overachieving students had been upset with the change, he was sure there would be days when they would be as relieved as he was now. A couple of years before, he would have been sitting in class, attempting to pass Japanese, English, math, science, and social studies; but now, he could just sit on his bed, trying to compose a song on his guitar.

The small amplifier was turned down low so he wouldn't disturb anyone. The blue-and-white instrument strummed out different notes until Kouji found the right ones and put them down in a notebook. He wished his friends knew how to play some instruments—the music was supposed to have a slight jazz or blues quality to it that couldn't be captured in a mildly distorted guitar alone. He'd determined that he'd need a drummer and perhaps a bassist for rhythm, a keyboardist for the melody, and a saxophonist for harmony. The guitar would be only to assist in the more upbeat sections, but he unfortunately needed to use it to get the sound of each of the notes as well.

As he played the parts of the music he'd already decided to use, a flash of light caught his attention, alerting him to the two eleven-year-olds standing by his door. He didn't mind Izumi and Kouichi's sudden appearance as much as he minded his father's Polaroid camera and the recently snapped photo Izumi held.

"Not a bad photo," she commented. "It's one of the few I actually managed to get of you."

"I guess we finally figured out the secret to taking his picture," Kouichi joked. "We just have to catch him off-guard."

"Are you done being disgustingly cute?" Kouji asked.

"Not quite," Izumi answered, holding out the camera again. Before she could snap another picture, Kouji grabbed the camera from her hands.

"Expect revenge," he warned.

"Sure, ototo-chan," Kouichi replied. "We'll be waiting for your wrath."

"Are you three ready?" the twins' father checked, coming up the stairs.

"Yes, Mr. Minamoto."

"We're ready, Dad."

"Yeah, Dad."

Though they had spoke in unison, their affirmation was easy to decipher. Kousei Minamoto grabbed his keys and led the children to the car. The three former Chosen Children buckled up in the back while Satomi Minamoto, the twins' stepmother, made her way to the front seat.

"Your stepmom looks different," Izumi whispered. "No offense or anything, but has she put on a little weight?"

"Dad keeps telling her to eat more," Kouji whispered back. "All this happened since she came back from the doctor."

"Is she sick?" Kouichi asked. His brother merely shrugged.

The somber mood in the car soon brightened once they reached the picnic grounds. Tomoki had managed to convince/bribe his older brother into driving the other three there. While Kouichi had packed a baseball and bat, Takuya had brought a soccer ball, which was lucky when they realized just how impossible it was to play baseball with only three people per team. It was no surprise that Takuya's team won, but Kouji managed to snap a very good blackmail photo of the goggle head and Tomoki in their victory pose. Takuya had threatened Kouji with death after that, but his attitude changed when they noticed the so-called "lovebirds" roosting near a tree. Kouji had managed to sneak over and snap a picture of their kiss, but Kouichi saw him and tried to shove him away.

"All right, Kouji, after that stunt you pulled, guess who's not on our team," Kouichi decided once a rematch soccer game had been agreed upon.

"Fine by me," he answered.

"Kouji, Kouichi, can you come here for a second?" their father requested. Confused, they walked over to their father and stepmother.

"What is it?" Kouji questioned.

"We have something important to tell you," Satomi informed.

The chaotic serenity was then shattered by two distinct voices yelling, "What?"


The news of their stepmother's pregnancy had been a complete shock to them, but they readily accepted the fact that they would have a younger half-sibling. Finally, two days before Christmas, they found themselves in the waiting room of the hospital while their half-sister was being born.

"You can come in now," the nurse notified them. Silently and anxiously, they entered to see their stepmother sitting in bed, holding out a tiny baby for their father to see.

"Kouichi, Kouji, come here," Satomi called. Carefully, she placed the newborn in Kouichi's arms. He had the same nervous look on his face that Kouji had when they'd been invited to care for the Baby I and II Digimon in the Village of Beginnings.

"Wow…" was all he could say before he gently handed her to Kouji.

The baby opened her bright blue eyes to stare at him, almost as though absorbing his facial features into her memory. Though she didn't have the full ability of sight yet, that was exactly what it appeared she was doing. Kouichi came over and received the same treatment.

"Get to know us quickly," Kouji whispered. "We're your brothers, and we'll be watching you for the rest of your life."


The last line of AiM's "Tenshi no Inori" softly hung in the air at the Orimoto house as the remaining four members of the Chosen Children's hard-tested friendship sat in the living room in the middle of the most taxing session of waiting they'd ever been through.

"You don't think something might be wrong, do you?" Tomoki asked.

"I don't think so," Takuya replied. "They'd call otherwise. Besides, I think it usually takes this long. It did with my little brother. I think."

The doorbell rang for at least the third time that day, and for at least the third time, they all jumped up to get it. This time, instead of packages or salespeople, the twins stood outside. They were bombarded with a million questions before they even walked in the door. No answers were given while the two removed their coats, causing the others to burn with anxiety.

"It was incredible," Kouichi described once he and his brother got settled. "I've held Baby Digimon before, but never a human baby. She was so tiny…"

"What did she look like?" Izumi asked.

"Like he said, tiny," Kouji answered. "Brown hair like Satomi, blue eyes like us."

"Did you get to hold her?" Tomoki questioned.

"Yeah, both of us got to before they put her in the basinet," Kouichi replied.

"She looked at us like she was trying to memorize who we were," Kouji added.

"What did they name her?" Junpei asked.

"Kouri," the brothers replied in unison, their tone slightly annoyed.

"Kouri?" Takuya repeated.

"We didn't name her," Kouichi responded.

"It was our father and grandfather," Kouji explained. "They're also the ones that named us. They have a habit of coming up with horrible names."

"At least they didn't attach a number to the end of her name like they did for us," Kouichi sighed.

"And we only barely stopped them from doing that," Kouji added. "You don't know how hard it was to convince them not to name her Koumi."

"So if you're Light, and Kouichi's Darkness, what's she going to be?" Takuya joked.

"Hopefully, she'll never have to go through what we did," Kouichi interrupted. "It wasn't right for us, and it certainly won't be right for her. No one should ever be tortured with fighting a sibling or having to watch one die."

Izumi passed around sodas to everyone. "A toast?"

"To Kouri Minamoto, and the future," Takuya decided.

The soda bottles struck each other gently with the wish for good luck. Not a single person thought of the last words Kouichi said, but they would return to haunt the children for many years to come.

Ototo-chan: little brother

Koumi: When applied to the rules of the Kimura-Minamoto family, the name would mean "light three" or "third light." Ri from Kouri (pronounced Ko-ree) holds no significance in the name.

I do not own Digimon or the songs used in this. The "lovebirds" are a name for my friend Melissa and her boyfriend Dan—copyright to Valerie, the Blue Poet. And I probably won't be using translations for words I put in the original "With Broken Wings"—there's really no reason to.