Chapter Three
--Ienji--
Less than a block away, Ienji was cataloging thick library books as he contemplated the events of the day.
It had all seemed so surreal. He'd woken up this morning and felt like he was still dreaming. But it was real, now, he knew. He could feel it.
Ienji was actually in the eleventh grade, despite his young face. That, and he'd skipped a grade; he was fifteeen and would turn sixteen in two months.
He knew he was a pretty laid-back kid, well-liked but with a few close friends. Everyone called him Ien, but he called himself by his full name, when he thought of himself in his mind.
A few minutes ago he'd been on his way to the school, where he had a job working in the library over the summer. He shelved books; it didn't pay very well, but it had its advantages.
Then, something had happened, but he wasn't quite sure what it was.
Well, yes, he knew that he'd crashed into another bike, and both of their travels had been delayed for about thirty seconds. But for some reason he felt that the collision was unimportant, that there had been something abstract.... but he couldn't figure out what it was.
All he remembered was a brief feeling he'd had at the moment of actual impact, like a sudden surge, but it had been so fleeting, he hadn't a clear memory it.
Ienji focused on that feeling, focused on it deeply, so deeply he didn't notice that he'd stopped shelving books, that his hand had stilled.
He continued to focus on the feeling to the point where he was only aware of the sound of his own breathing and the remnant of the feeling amplified in his mind. He was not aware of moving his right hand forward; he was not aware of opening his palm as the ghost digivice materialized upon it.
--Evan--
The man peered across the desk through narrow glasses, somehow managing to hold the appearance of looking down on the new student before him, despite the schoolmaster's low stature.
Evan could sense that the man had a distrustful view of youth, but could not discern the man's opinion of this the prospective student who sat before him. A cold, analytical feeling was all that he could sense of the man's thoughts as the fellow reviewed all the necessary documents.
Finally, after some time, the schoolmaster finished looking over the papers. The man spoke. "Welcome to the Siojaton High School, Evan Ashton."
When Evan took on an alternate identity, he liked to keep his first name for an alias whenever possible; it had been, in this task.
Smiling benevolently, he thanked the man, who replied, "It is an honor to have such a prospective student in our house of learning. I only wish your parents had been able to attend to this; I look forward to meeting them." The schoolmaster's gladness at the transfer student's arrival did not reach his face.
Evan sensed that the man was still slightly suspicious. He had arrived in Siojaton City last night with no cover family, having chosen to rely on bureaucratic impersonality rather than have some amateur 'actors' slow him down; he had no legal guardians outside of these documents.... the same documents that made his age seventeen instead of nineteen, and a junior in high school instead of a college dropout.
He now realized that although such deceptions had been fairly effective in America, cultural--and personal--differences might lower its level of sufficiency in the foreign country of Japan.
Again nodding in thanks, the young man sat up and bowed on his way out the door of the office.
--Evan--
Evan had just stepped outside the door of the school at the moment he felt it. The feeling passed through him like a tumultuous wave. For a moment he was frozen in place with the sheer impossibility of it; they'd calculated this out of the equation. This hadn't happened in.... this had never happened before.
Taking action, he sensed the place at which the link was being forged. It was just east of here, in the library, perhaps. He launched himself into the air and landed on the seat of the bike.
He didn't know whether he could make it there on time, or if it would make a difference, but either way, he was pedaling harder than ever before.
Seventy-one seconds later, Evan threw the bike onto the pavement as he braked in front of the library and leaped up the steps and through the double-doors.
Now that he was in closer range he knew exactly where the link was occurring. He raced through the library, ignoring the disapproving looks of both visitors and staff.
As he made his way to the source of the event, he materialized his ghost digivice. He knew he'd need it.
--Ienji--
Less than a block away, Ienji was cataloging thick library books as he contemplated the events of the day.
It had all seemed so surreal. He'd woken up this morning and felt like he was still dreaming. But it was real, now, he knew. He could feel it.
Ienji was actually in the eleventh grade, despite his young face. That, and he'd skipped a grade; he was fifteeen and would turn sixteen in two months.
He knew he was a pretty laid-back kid, well-liked but with a few close friends. Everyone called him Ien, but he called himself by his full name, when he thought of himself in his mind.
A few minutes ago he'd been on his way to the school, where he had a job working in the library over the summer. He shelved books; it didn't pay very well, but it had its advantages.
Then, something had happened, but he wasn't quite sure what it was.
Well, yes, he knew that he'd crashed into another bike, and both of their travels had been delayed for about thirty seconds. But for some reason he felt that the collision was unimportant, that there had been something abstract.... but he couldn't figure out what it was.
All he remembered was a brief feeling he'd had at the moment of actual impact, like a sudden surge, but it had been so fleeting, he hadn't a clear memory it.
Ienji focused on that feeling, focused on it deeply, so deeply he didn't notice that he'd stopped shelving books, that his hand had stilled.
He continued to focus on the feeling to the point where he was only aware of the sound of his own breathing and the remnant of the feeling amplified in his mind. He was not aware of moving his right hand forward; he was not aware of opening his palm as the ghost digivice materialized upon it.
--Evan--
The man peered across the desk through narrow glasses, somehow managing to hold the appearance of looking down on the new student before him, despite the schoolmaster's low stature.
Evan could sense that the man had a distrustful view of youth, but could not discern the man's opinion of this the prospective student who sat before him. A cold, analytical feeling was all that he could sense of the man's thoughts as the fellow reviewed all the necessary documents.
Finally, after some time, the schoolmaster finished looking over the papers. The man spoke. "Welcome to the Siojaton High School, Evan Ashton."
When Evan took on an alternate identity, he liked to keep his first name for an alias whenever possible; it had been, in this task.
Smiling benevolently, he thanked the man, who replied, "It is an honor to have such a prospective student in our house of learning. I only wish your parents had been able to attend to this; I look forward to meeting them." The schoolmaster's gladness at the transfer student's arrival did not reach his face.
Evan sensed that the man was still slightly suspicious. He had arrived in Siojaton City last night with no cover family, having chosen to rely on bureaucratic impersonality rather than have some amateur 'actors' slow him down; he had no legal guardians outside of these documents.... the same documents that made his age seventeen instead of nineteen, and a junior in high school instead of a college dropout.
He now realized that although such deceptions had been fairly effective in America, cultural--and personal--differences might lower its level of sufficiency in the foreign country of Japan.
Again nodding in thanks, the young man sat up and bowed on his way out the door of the office.
--Evan--
Evan had just stepped outside the door of the school at the moment he felt it. The feeling passed through him like a tumultuous wave. For a moment he was frozen in place with the sheer impossibility of it; they'd calculated this out of the equation. This hadn't happened in.... this had never happened before.
Taking action, he sensed the place at which the link was being forged. It was just east of here, in the library, perhaps. He launched himself into the air and landed on the seat of the bike.
He didn't know whether he could make it there on time, or if it would make a difference, but either way, he was pedaling harder than ever before.
Seventy-one seconds later, Evan threw the bike onto the pavement as he braked in front of the library and leaped up the steps and through the double-doors.
Now that he was in closer range he knew exactly where the link was occurring. He raced through the library, ignoring the disapproving looks of both visitors and staff.
As he made his way to the source of the event, he materialized his ghost digivice. He knew he'd need it.