Disclaimer: Don't own… don't sue.
AN: Sorry this was so long in coming, but, as I'm sure you've noticed, the are rather healthy sized chapters, and proof-reading alone is quite time consuming. In any event, this is going to be a very long story, because I'm already five chapters in and I've only covered part of the first episode. Oh well…
Anyway, please read and review… I find the reviews very helpful if nothing else. Make my day, please!
"Twenty years from now you'll be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
Mark Twain
What makes a miracle? When does the line between science and faith disappear? What is impossible?
What do you say when it snows in July?
Joe Kido was extremely annoyed that the weather reports he had so scrupulously studied before packing for his trip had proved to be so unreliable. Looking out his frosted window, the dark haired teen thought mournfully of his light summer clothing and wondered how long it would take for hypothermia to set in. His brow creased in further worry as he saw the younger campers playing gleefully in the unexpected winter wonderland, seemingly oblivious to the cold in their summer clothing. Joe wondered whether they would come in before they got sick, and quietly resolved to keep an eye out for signs of illness among the younger kids. Although he wasn't typically terribly assertive, Joe felt most confident when dealing in matters of medicine.
Apart from an inborn concern for the welfare of his fellow man that had always set him apart from his contemporaries, Joe secretly admired the intelligence and confidence of the doctors he knew, and inwardly desired to be as confident. Doctors weren't clumsy, or too tall or too smart. Joe dreamed of someday being a doctor, and finally feeling a sense of belonging, a sense of being respected and needed in a group of equals. For a boy as quiet and sensitive as his mother always told him he was, adolescence was a tortuous age of being outcast and ignored by his competitive and territorial peers. Joe wanted to belong…
Joe couldn't wait to be an adult.
A sharp banging on the cabin door startled the pensive camper from his thoughts, and he turned from the window, gazing warily at his cabin mates, wondering if one of them would answer the door. Koushiro Izumi, or 'Izzy,' as he had introduced himself, had been typing away at his little yellow laptop practically since they'd arrived, although the greeting he had given his fellow campers had been warm and friendly, if a bit distracted.
Izzy himself was also ambivalent about having been shipped off to camp. When he'd mentioned to his parents that he'd like to go to camp, he'd actually meant computer camp. His parents, however, feeling he spent enough time in front of a computer and not enough socializing in a healthy way with his peers, had sent him to this camp instead. Luckily his laptop had a wireless Internet uplink or else he'd be cut off from the real world entirely. Which, he reflected wryly, is probably what his parents had intended all along.
Sitting on the bunk above Izzy, coolly shutting out the world was Yamato Ishida. He had obviously not heard the knock over the sound of his headphones, and had not moved or looked towards the door. The blond had quickly isolated himself into what seemed to Joe an extremely unhealthy mental state. Izzy glanced up at Joe who had resignedly begun to move towards the door, and shut down his laptop, closing it with a secure click.
Before the twelve-year-old could reach it, however, the door slammed open to reveal Tai Kamiya, the fourth resident of the cabin that had been built for five, who was soaking wet from head to toe from the snow. He had obviously lost his key and then found it, and was standing triumphantly silhouetted in the bright sunlight, relishing his victory over small, lost objects.
"C'mon guys! How often does it snow in July? Grab your backpacks and live a little!"
Izzy and Joe traded bemused glances as Tai marched determinedly back out into the unnatural weather, obviously intending to enjoy it or die trying. The two were just standing there, silently weighing the options with the care and consideration each cautious teen applied to every aspect of their lives, when a loud thump came from behind them. Matt had jumped down from his bunk and, grabbing something swiftly from his bag, marched straight past them and out into the snow.
The two stared after him for a long moment, then glanced back at the bunk, where Matt's headphones lay abandoned in the crumpled green quilt. The faint, tinny sound of music told them he hadn't even paused to shut it off before he left. Sharing one more glance that clearly said, 'well, why not?' the two grabbed their backpacks and headed out into the blinding light and snow.
"Hope is a state of mind, not of the world. Hope, in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well, or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously heading for success, but rather an ability to work for something because it is good."
Vaclav Havel
Sister Augustine was concerned when she finished her devotions and found that Takeru was not in the convent. It was almost time for supper, although the Arctic summer sun was still high in the sky and would not even begin to set until long after the time when Takeru should be in bed. She sighed fretfully as she paced through the silent halls, wondering if he had wandered down to the dock again, which was a four hour walk by the roads, such as they were, and easily two hours straight through the dense woods. If you're an adventurous eight-year-old boy, through the woods is the only acceptable way to travel.
As the bells began to toll the change of hours, she saw a small figure crossing the plain, sliding nimbly down the slope from the shaded emerald forest and dashing through the sea of golden arctic poppies and blueberry brambles. Even from that distance, she could tell he was carrying something small, and, from the careful way he held it, something delicate. Sighing deeply, she headed out towards the front garden, pausing at the infirmary on the way.
Sister Cecilia was sitting within, speaking to Tuvlaubaa, the leader of the local Inuit people, about medical supplies for the coming winter. The old man, whose name meant 'to shield' or 'to protect' in his native language, had visited the convent often over the years, becoming something of a grandfatherly influence in Takeru's life, and Takeru often went to the permanent Inuit encampment to visit him and his people.
Sister Augustine smiled softly at the two leaders, who had for years carried out an amiable and scrupulous professional friendship, ignoring their spiritual differences in order to best provide for both their communities in the unforgiving environment around them. The pair of elders looked up at her curiously, guessing that her news had something to do with Takeru, as she would disturb their meeting for only one reason.
Bowing briefly to her superior, Sister Augustine said, "He's coming in with another one, Mother Superior. May I let him bring it in?"
At her words, both elders smiled indulgently, especially Tuvlaubaa, whose fondness for the young boy was well known. Sister Cecilia sighed, "That boy will get his hand bitten off one day, picking up injured creatures like that. I am just grateful he has not yet brought home a bear!"
Her Inuit friend only laughed, his dark eyes smiling through the wrinkles of age lining his face. Unlike the sisters, his wisdom was based in a belief in the inherent good of the spirit of nature, and that if one respected nature, than one had nothing to fear from it.
"The animals will never hurt Takeru because they recognize that he needs them as much as they need him. Takeru seeks a purpose in life, and as long as he can help the small creatures of the forest, he no longer feels helpless himself. Mark my words, Sisters; until the boy finds his path again, he will keep wandering."
Sister Augustine bit her lip; she never liked it when Tuvlaubaa spoke as though Takeru was something other than a little boy. "Yes, he wanders, but he always comes home."
Tuvlaubaa looked at her gravely, the smile gone from his eyes. "Yes… and you know as well as he does that this is not his true home. The world will reach out to that boy one way or another… you cannot shelter him here forever."
As the three adults considered the implications of those words, the sounds of small feet could be heard scuffing their way down the polished wood floor of the sanctuary's halls. Hard on the heels of the noise was Takeru himself, his blond locks windblown and his blue eyes wide with shock as they always were when he found Sister Augustine had anticipated his actions. He was the only one who was amazed by this, however. Takeru was painfully transparent, his feelings and thoughts broadcast in the blatant blue of his eyes, making deception an impossibility, although the sisters had not known him to ever attempt to lie in the first place.
A bright smile lit up the young boy's face as his gaze fell on Tuvlaubaa, who, to the chagrin of the sisters, had instilled in the boy through his stories a deep love of nature, animals, and wandering. The ancient Inuit ruffled the young boy's hair in a fatherly manner, looking at the tiny furry object in the boy's hands.
"What have you found today, Takeru? A bear cub, perhaps?"
Tuvlaubaa felt the irate looks of the sisters on his back as Takeru snickered. Opening his hands so the elder could see his foundling, Takeru said, "No… Tumi's dog had her puppies," he paused as Tuvlaubaa nodded, Tumi was his grandnephew and his Malamute had been expected to whelp sometime that week.
"She had seven puppies, but she pushed this one away. Tumi said she didn't have enough milk because she's small for her breed. He said this puppy would die, but I didn't want it to, so he said I could take it and try to save it."
Turning beseeching eyes on the sisters, he asked, "May I? She shouldn't have to die… it's not fair that she was pushed away."
Sister Augustine all but melted into a puddle where she stood, but Sister Cecilia, long used to the sweet pleading eyes of the many nuns who had passed under her authority, held firm. Taking the small creature from the boy, she looked it over, mentally assessing its chances. The odds weren't good.
"Takeru…" she trailed off, looking away from his eyes, "you understand that this puppy will probably die? It's very young to be separated from its mother."
Takeru met her eyes squarely, a troubled expression on his serious young face. "Why?" he asked finally, looking at the three adults gathered around him. Looking at the puppy, he touched it, running a finger over its silky infant fur.
"Why did she push her baby away?"
Looking at each other uncomfortably, the adults declined to answer, realizing the question hadn't really been about a puppy. As the sisters bustled around, assembling the necessary items to sustain a puppy's life, Tuvlaubaa knelt down by Takeru, looking him earnestly in the eyes.
"What shall you name her? Giving her a name will give her a reason to live… something that is loved and named does not easily or lightly pass into death. Name her wisely, therefore, Takeru."
Takeru, his eyes wide with the seriousness off the responsibility, immediately began considering names, not noticing the grim looks traded by the sisters as they labored over the faltering life of the puppy. The Inuit nodded in response to the grateful looks the sisters gave him, and guided the preoccupied boy out of the infirmary with a gentle hand.
They gave me a life that's not so easy to live
And they sent me on my way
I've left my love and forgot my dreams
And lost them all along the way
But God this road can be so long
Another endless day another seven hundred miles
Will take me further from my home…
"I Feel You"
3 Doors Down
Sora realized too late that there are some times when you can't turn back, when reaching out a hand to something that seems insignificant can be like reaching through the doors of destiny to touch your own future. As she gazed at the shiny, red trimmed object in her hand, watching its screen slowly fade, she was overcome with the urge to throw the object away, to toss it from her with all of her might and go home to her family, her mother, and leave this place.
Squinting into the tropical sunlight, however, she realized that she was further from home, further from her mother whom she'd so desperately wanted to distance herself from, than she'd ever intended. And she had no idea how to get back. Like Dorothy dropped unwittingly and unwillingly into a strange land, Sora was besieged with guilt for ever wanting to leave her family and home. What had then seemed oppressive and dictatorial now seemed safe and familiar, and loving.
Her family's love for her… and she'd taken it for granted. How could she ever have made such an obvious mistake?
Clipping the strange object to her belt in an easy, almost natural movement, she resolved to change all that. When I get home, she thought, when I get home I'll make sure they know how much I love them. With the fire of her resolve driving her onward, she pushed forward into the thick brush, determined to find her way.
No matter what.
"Hi! I'm Biyomon!"
Sora froze at the chirpy cheerful voice that sounded behind her, steeling herself before turning to face whoever or whatever it was. Fear turned to shock when her eyes landed on the voice's owner.
A small pink bird-like thing smiled up at her from the forest floor. A vague sense of familiarity kept Sora from turning and running outright as the small creature fluttered towards her, its rose colored plumage shimmering slightly in the scattered sunlight and shade that made a mosaic of the mossy terrain.
"What's your name?" it chirped in a strangely affectionate way.
Sora had to bite her tongue to keep from saying, 'Dorothy Gale.'
Mimi Tachikawa fanned herself with her delightfully pink hat, hoping she didn't look as strung out as she felt. The small green creature before her was looking at her with an extraordinary amount of concern for what appeared to be a talking plant. She continued fanning herself, wondering how she had gotten wherever she was. Unfortunately, her parents hadn't allowed her to bring her cell phone to camp, saying something about her needing a break from the her incessant shopping and her shallow friends.
Although, as she cast an appraising eye at her current surroundings, she realized that she slightly beyond even a roaming cellular signal. Sighing to herself, Mimi recognized that while she was being honest with herself, she might as well say that her parents were completely right about her and her friends. Secretly she'd been relieved to be separated from her friends for a summer… she had begun to feel stifled around them lately… of course, shopping was an important part of life, and pink was certainly to be equated with oxygen, but really, who cares?
Recently she had begun to notice the patronizing looks given to her by store clerks and teachers, as though they were constantly judging her and finding to be, as she secretly feared she was, without substance. Sometimes she wanted to stand up in the crowds of her friends and family and fellow students and shriek at the top of her lungs that she wasn't like that, that she could be smart and responsible and resourceful. That she could be self reliant and independent.
But why should I, if you don't expect it and I don't expect it? If you don't believe in me, why should I believe in myself?
But I know I could… I could count for something… I could matter… and I'm not just another airhead.
I just can't be…
A rustle of leaves brought her attention back to her leafy companion, who was shifting awkwardly before her, obviously having just said something that Mimi, in another trademark ditz move that she loathed herself for, had not heard. She smiled in what she hoped was a flattering way down at the creature as she continued to fan herself with her hat.
"I'm sorry… Palmon, was it? I didn't quite catch that. Could you please repeat it?"
Well, no matter what else could be said about her, no one was going to accuse her of having bad manners, even in the most unusual of situations. Palmon perked visibly as Mimi gave the plant her full attention, thoughtfully angling her hat so both could benefit from the cooling breeze it created.
"I said we should go… we have to meet Gennai soon, and the others! I can take you there!" The plant beamed up at her, and Mimi realized that a meeting with this Gennai person was obviously a big deal, and not to be missed, by talking plant standards, at least.
"Who is Gennai? What do you mean others? Can he help me get home?" Mimi was babbling, she knew, but once voiced her concerns began to dominate her thoughts… where was she? Could she trust this Gennai? What 'others'?
Palmon appeared unruffled by the questions, although she looked a bit uncertain when Mimi mentioned home. "Gennai can help! He'll explain everything, I promise!" Great leafy eyes peered beseechingly up at Mimi, whose doubts slowly began to fade to a growing resolve. She could get through this, she could be courageous, and this was her chance to prove to everyone that there was more to Mimi Tachikawa than meets the eye.
Placing her hat back on her head, Mimi stood determinedly. "Lead the way, then, Palmon. Let's get this show on the road."
Gennai looked around the clearing, standing calmly in the circle of sunlight, waiting for the digidestined to appear. In a lucky twist of fate, Devimon, who would most likely have been the Chosen's first adversary, had been defeated far ahead of schedule by the Child of Hope, and MagnaAngemon. The children could therefore immediately set out after their Crests, and begin working towards restoring the balance of the Digital World.
Looking at the Crest of Hope that was shimmering slightly in his wrinkled hand, the elder prayed that TK would remember nothing of his first visit to the Digiworld, and the terror from which Gennai had been unable to save him. It had been Patamon who had, in the end, disobeyed Gennai and set off to Spiral Mountain alone, and, in a moment of tremendous valor and foolishness, had managed to save the Child of Hope, and send him out of the Digital World through a variation of his 'Gate of Destiny' attack.
Gennai had been sure he would never see Patamon again after the cataclysmic and premature battle, but to his great surprise and relief, Wizardmon had returned the digimon and the Crest only a week later. The digivice was still missing, although Gennai assumed that TK still had it… if not, another was easily made.
Then, as though summoned by his thoughts, Patamon fluttered into the clearing, a distressed look on his face. He was alone, which was surprising, because surely the children ought to be there by now.
Looking at the flying digimon, Gennai asked in concern, "What is it? Where is he, Patamon?"
Patamon, his eyes wide in distress, still looking around
wildly, whimpered back, "He didn't come!
I looked everywhere; he simply isn't here!"
Looking back in later years, Gennai would wonder at how quickly the ramifications of that statement laid themselves before him. Dropping his dignity, Gennai turned and ran from the clearing, looking desperately for Gabumon and his charge. He had a question that only the Child of Friendship could answer.
In later years, Patamon would say that he hadn't followed Gennai because he already knew the answer to the question, as if some of the perceptive powers of Angemon had trickled down suddenly into his devolved form. He simply fluttered there in the clearing, looking up at the golden sun and hoping he hadn't thrown TK to his death when he pushed him so desperately out of the Digital World.
I waited till I saw the sun…
I don't know why I didn't come…
When I saw the break of day,
I wished that I could fly away,
Instead of kneeling in the sand,
Catching teardrops in my hand…
"Don't Know Why"
Norah Jones
Kari stood looking out at the barren landscape, wincing as flashes of lightening illuminated the darkened valley… exposing the corpses of too many digimon to her unwilling eyes. So much death and destruction… this wasn't how it was supposed to end…
She wanted to scream, but the wind stole her voice, tearing her words away from even her own ears… she felt as though she was nailed in place, unable to run from the horror of the truth played out in too much color before her. She could smell the sick sweet smell of death and taste salt and copper as her tears mingled with blood as they traveled down her face…
She heard a gasp from behind her, through the shrieking of the wind and the roaring in her ears, and as though that sound broke the spell that held her in place, suddenly she could move and breathe again. She whirled around, and met his eyes.
He was here… he always came, in good dreams and in bad… and from the expression on his face, he saw exactly what she saw.
Alone in the barren landscape, the two stared at each other, the sole pillars of life in a wasteland of death. His eyes traveled over the surroundings, the bright blue darkening as he took in the enormity of their situation. Then, soundlessly, his hand stretched out to her across the haze of smoke and despair.
Gratefully, she took it, and held on for dear life as the world exploded in sound and light around them.