Disclaimer: I don't own it. no, not even a little bit.
AN: I know what you're all thinking: He's been on his way home for like three chapters, let's get some action here! Well, this chapter isn't it. There is, however, some takari, and the reunion I know you've all been waiting for.
Just don't kill me when you read it.
That said, happy reading and please review! I'm using a computer that's almost as old as I am to bring this to you. That has to be worth something. By the way, that's why the formatting for this chapter and the last are a little ummm-screwy. FF.net doesn't like my word program, and refuses to see certain spaces, punctuation, etc. I apologize to the grammar conscious (like myself) who are disturbed by such things.
Thanks! Review!
I years had been from home,
And now, before the door
I dared not open, lest a face
I never saw before
Stare vacant into mine
and ask my business there.
My business,--just a life I left,
Was such still dwelling there?
"I years had been from home'
Emily Dickinson
The streets of Tokyo were bustling with people despite the continuing unprecedented heat wave. The streets were so crowded, in fact, even in the smaller community atmosphere of Odaiba, that the odds of running into someone you knew were rather slim.
However, there are some people who make a habit of beating the odds, and so it was that two such boys, one looking up at the skyscrapers, like a tourist, and the other looking inward, absorbed in his thoughts, chanced to slam into each other on that sunny, not so average morning.
Backpacks flying, the boys slammed to the ground, grunting slightly as they hit. Both swore rather fluently, and the older boy, brushing his blue- black hair out of his eyes, was surprised to hear the tall blond sprawled before him curse successively in English, Latin, and Japanese. The large gray dog the blond had been leading sniffed its master solicitously, and the turned to him. Sniffing the dark-haired boy cautiously, the animal immediately began to growl.
Looking up, the blond seized the dog's collar, pulling her away from the other boy. Speaking in a language the older boy did not recognize, the blond seemed to firmly admonish the dog before standing and offering his hand. With a final, cautious look at the dog who was obediently sitting but eyeing him murderously, the dark boy took the proffered hand and rose to his feet.
The courteous words of apology died on his lips as the blonde's hand closed around his. Something about this boy was burning him, a feeling like bright fire was charging down his arm and along his senses, finally traveling to the back of his neck where it seemed to intensify momentarily, before dissipating as they released each other. Except for a brief narrowing of his eyes, the other boy made no indication he had felt the same thing. Instead, a look of recognition filled his features.
"Ken!"
It was not a question, nor did the boy sound surprised. In fact, unless Ken was much mistaken, and he very rarely was in his own opinion, this boy looked angry, very angry and a little sad, a look almost like pity and disappointment. Searching the boy's face, Ken was forced to admit that the boy looked extremely familiar. Something about his coloring, although he knew few blondes. The expression on his face was easily placed, however-it was the exact expression that sappy Child of Light often wore when facing his minions, only intensified.
He kept his voice steady, though, revealing little. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met. How do you know me?"
This seemed to startle the blond slightly, and he looked annoyed, as though he had briefly forgotten something. He answered quickly and smoothly, however, in slightly accented but otherwise perfect Japanese.
"Only by reputation, like the rest of Tokyo. I apologize for addressing you so familiarly, I was just startled to find I'd run you, of all people, down in the street." The blonde's expression was closed, guarded, his eyes, an unusually intense blue, looked wise, almost ancient. It was a much older expression that Ken was accustomed to seeing on a person his age, or even younger, though the boy was taller than him by several inches.
Ken smiled affably, falsely, looking the strange boy and dog over carefully. "It's no problem, really, I get that a lot. You look familiar, though. There aren't many blondes of your height in Odaiba, or even Tokyo for that matter."
The boy seemed to consider his words carefully, and Ken couldn't help feeling as though he was approaching a battle. Somehow, he felt instinctively that this strange boy was a formidable opponent, one who would not easily accept defeat. He could almost picture them fighting in his flying fortress. and as he watched the boy, he saw a ugly red welt marring the boy's cheek, as though he had been struck with a whip. When he blinked, shocked, the image had gone and the boy had begun to speak.
"I'm from out of town, actually. I recently moved here from Alaska."
Ken blinked again, surprised twice in as many seconds. "Really? So that must be a-Malamute?--then," he gestured, indicating the dog, who continued to eye him darkly. "It's a beautiful animal. What were you speaking to it before, it didn't sound like English."
The blond pet the dog absently, still staring hard at Ken. "It's a female, actually. And I was speaking Inuit, a native language in Alaska. She knows I mean business when I speak it to her."
Ken arched an eyebrow, his expression equally intense. "Of course. Inuit, and I heard you speaking Latin and English before. And Japanese now. You are fluent in all these?"
The blond smiled calmly, clearly unruffled by what was becoming an intense, if subtle, verbal duel. "Mostly, yes," he replied modestly, but with a clear undertone of pride. "I also speak French."
"You must be quite a gifted linguist."
"Well, once you learn Latin, most other western languages come easily."
"Your Japanese sounds almost native."
"I was born here. I-" here the blond seemed to stumble for the first time, "I left when I was very young."
Ken nodded sagely, as though this explained all. "Well, I really must be going, I'm late for soccer practice as it is. It was very nice meeting you," and he paused significantly, picking up his backpack.
"TK." The boy replied simply, gathering his own things and getting his dog to attention with a brief gesture.
"TK?" Ken asked, an eyebrow arched in feigned polite curiosity.
"Takeru."
Hmph. "Is there a last name that goes with that?"
The blonde's smile was bright, but strangely brittle. He clearly considered the conversation over. "Yes, there is a last name. I'm sorry to have kept you, have a nice practice."
Brushing past him, TK walked firmly away from Ken, his exit a clear slap in the face. The dog hesitated briefly to growl at Ken, before trotting after her master, clearly pleased with having the last word. Watching the boy for a moment longer, Ken turned towards practice with the troubling feeling that he had lost something in that exchange.
***********************
TK walked swiftly through the streets, his feet knowing the way even when his mind did not. He was still reeling from his encounter with the Digimon Emperor, and their ensuing conversation. Clicking his tongue softly to keep Kiu moving despite the interesting smells that caused her to pause every block or so, he wondered that, of all the people he could have slammed into, it had to be Ken. The older boy had almost recognized him, he was sure, and he had felt his Crest react violently to the Dark Spore he knew Ken carried.
Shaking his head, he put his mind on the task ahead of him. He had only a small window of time to catch Matt at home, after his father went to work but before Matt left for school. But before he could face Matt, he had one more trial to get through, and it was even now looming before him, in all its verdant glory:
Odaiba Park.
It looked much the same as he remembered it, and indeed the day was much similar to the day he had last been in it. The day he had last been in Japan. There were fewer children in the park, only small children with their mothers on a weekday. He saw a few older children, in uniform and obviously getting an early start to school, walking the shaded paths in small groups, laughing and chatting with each other in the comfortable patterns of the everyday.
Kiu, not sensing her master's distress in her excitement to see greenery again, began tugging him forward. Swallowing the memories, TK squared his shoulders and walked into the park, watching the children dart across the path and look with curiosity at Kiu, who trotted with her tail held proudly aloft, always one to know when she was being admired.
His carefully constructed composure disappeared when a familiar voice appeared at his elbow, filled with mischief.
"Gee, that's a nice dog, mister."
He stumbled to a halt, causing Kiu to choke against the leash for a moment before she could notice his stop. Standing beside him in the shade of the tall trees, sunlight casting ever changing patterns across her, was Kari, smiling broadly at him.
TK gaped at her for a moment before sweeping her up into a hug, dropping Kiu's leash to swing the girl around him. Kari obligingly threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him as though she'd never let go. She gasped as they spun around, before he finally dropped her and held her out at arms length, grinning crookedly at her, his eyes sparkling.
"Now this is more like what I had in mind!" He exclaimed, releasing her to reclaim Kiu's leash. Kari squinted at him, a puzzled look in her chestnut eyes.
"Huh? I can't say that's what I had in mind for your first words to me!" She said, tone inquisitive, and her hands on her hips in mock annoyance.
TK's expression clouded slightly, although his smile did not falter. "I ran into Ken a few minutes ago-literally. It wasn't how I had planned to spend the first part of my morning, obviously."
Kari smiled sympathetically, although her voice was hard when she spoke. "You didn't tell him too much, did you? He's smart enough to figure all this out before we do, and we can't have that. If he-"
TK cut her off by placing his finger over her lips, his expression amused. "Don't worry, General, I stuck to name, rank, and serial number. The state secrets are safe."
Crossing her arms over her chest, Kari began to pout, although her eyes were still alight with joy. Her tone, however, was rather convincingly put out. "You're making fun of me! I'm trying to save the world, and you're making fun of me!"
He grinned, unrepentant. "Aren't you glad to have me back?"
"Arrgh!" She growled, punching him in the arm. "You are so-so-so-!"
He just grinned at her as she stuttered, watching the way her cheeks flushed and her brow creased as she searched for an adequately scathing adjective. Luckily, Kiu chose this pause to bark in annoyance at being ignored, a state of affairs she was unused to and found wholly unacceptable.
Shushing her, TK saved himself from Kari's wrath. "By the way, this is Kiu. My other best friend."
Kari was about to chastise him for his transparent attempt to change the subject when the silver dog trotted up to her and sat, extending one paw to be shaken. As TK had hoped, Kari melted on the spot, shaking the paw with all gravity, and then scratching the dog behind the ears, as Kiu whined appreciatively.
Glancing at his watch, TK gasped as something caught his eye. "You have to go! Now!"
Kari glanced up at once, startled. "What? Why?"
TK, already backing away, pointed over her shoulder. Glancing back surreptitiously, Kari also gasped, swinging back to him. Coming up the path were Yolei and Davis, both of whom would react badly to seeing Kari with a boy, and both of whom could very well notice TK's resemblance to Matt. Neither seemed to have noticed the pair yet, but Davis' 'Kari-radar' was sure to kick in any moment. The only question was whether it would go off before Yolei's 'cute-guy-radar' did.
Glancing between her approaching friends and the departing Takeru, Kari dashed after him, pushing him behind a tree. Kiu yelped in surprise, and TK opened his mouth to ask, but she shushed him, pressing something she pulled from her backpack into his hands.
"I've been carrying this around all week hoping I'd bump into you! Meet me after school, if you can!" Pulling him into one more breathless hug, she dashed back out onto the path, where TK could hear her greet the approaching digi-destined cheerfully.
Kneeling with his face away from the path, TK pretended to adjust Kiu's collar until the group had passed. Kiu, feeling this was a new game of some sort, helpfully washed his face with her tongue. After he lost sight of them around a curve in the path, TK stood wearily, looking at the object Kari had passed him.
It was a white, cotton fisherman's hat, with 'welcome home' written along the inside band.
****************************
"Remember, Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies."
The Shawshank Redemption
Stephen King
Matt dropped his breakfast dishes into the dishwasher with an irritable clank, sighing noisily as the intercom buzzer sounded. Wiping his hands carelessly on his uniform pants, Matt went to the door and activated the speaker.
"Ishida residence."
The intercom made a scratchy noise, and then a voice came through. "Hello sir. This is the doorman. You have a visitor down here. He says he's your brother. May I buzz him in for you, sir?"
Matt was silent for a long moment, and Gabumon, with eyes the size of dinner plates, watched from his perch on the top of the couch, where he had, until a moment before, been flat out on his back asleep in a remarkable Snoopy imitation.
Finally, he pressed the buzzer again, speaking wearily into the intercom. "You are aware my brother is deceased, correct?"
"Yes, sir. But the resemblance is remarkable, sir. I'm apologize for disturbing you, sir. I--- alright, alright. Sir, the boy says he has something to say to you?"
Matt growled, scowling at the door. "Fine, whatever. I need a good laugh."
There was a long pause, and the a young man's voice came over the com. "Geez, Matt. I had HOPED you would be a bit more FRIENDLY. Well, I guess I was wrong then."
The only sound in the apartment was the loud thump of Gabumon hitting the floor, shock sending him tumbling from his perch. Matt stood frozen, his finger pressed over the reply button, feeling as though he had been encased in ice. That voice-those words-it triggered something deep inside him, something he thought had died so long ago, so very long ago that until that very moment, he had forgotten its existence. That's what told him the boy was telling the truth, the truth about something that he had given up on.
Finally, a strangled whisper escaped him. "F--k me."
Gabumon frowned, wagging his finger at Matt. "Potty mouth, Matt."
"No kidding. That's not what I'm here for, big brother. If you want someone for that you're on your own."
Matt shook himself as he realized his finger was still pressing the reply button. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he addressed the speaker again. "Yes, you can come up. Buzz him in, please."
Silence reigned in the apartment in the interminable time between his strangled command the fateful knock on the door. Gabumon stood behind him, with the stunned look of someone who feels they should be saying something profound and comforting, but can't think of anything appropriate. Matt, meanwhile, stood in the immaculate apartment with the morning sun beating through the kitchen windows, feeling as though he had stepped back through time. He felt as he had the morning after TK's disappearance, when he had seen the police officer at the door and had been so sure, so positive that they'd found him.
The knock came, and Matt moved towards the door, opening it. All his memories of his brother seemed to flash before his eyes as the door seemed to crawl open-or maybe it had flown open? In a second and an hour, the light flowed in and his eyes cleared, and he looked down.
A dog smiled toothily back up at him.
Oh. He's not three anymore, stupid. He's-fifteen? Is that possible?
He looked up, straight into a pair of blue eyes level with his. The boy in the doorway seemed as tongue tied as he did, his deep eyes lost and confused. He was tan, his eyes bright and his blonde hair falling somewhat haphazardly into his face. He was easily as tall as Matt, but was built like an athlete. In his right hand, he was clutching a white hat.
Matt furrowed his brow at the boy, at TK, struggling to make a connection in his mind between the little boy he remembered and the young man before him. He was so big-how had he gotten so tall? What had happened to give him that solemn depth in his eyes? Looking at the teenager before him, something occurred to Matt, something which froze the blood in his veins.
This boy was not TK, not really. He was not the little boy Matt remembered, the small child that needed Matt to protect his innocence, his bright little spirit. Even if it was his brother, and his inner voice, so long silent, told him it was, they could never have what they'd had before. They could never regain what they'd lost. TK no longer needed his protection. He'd made it back on his own, albeit it took him twelve years, but still. He'd done it without Matt's help, after the older boy had so grievously failed him so many years ago.
It was hopeless. They'd never be more than related strangers, with little but blood and pain in common.
TK seemed to sense the destructive direction Matt's thoughts were taking, because he opened his mouth to speak. But Matt, suddenly furious with the universe and himself, did something unthinkable.
He left. He grabbed his book-bag, his uniform jacket, and mumbling something about being late for school, brushed by TK, into the hall. He walked away swiftly, not looking back to see the deeply hurt expression his younger brother wore. He couldn't stay, not to ask the hundreds of questions he knew would eventually be asked, not to hear the explanations, not wanting to hear the truth.
The truth was, he failed his little brother twelve years ago, and that failure had destroyed everything in his life. TK would no doubt blame him, would no doubt tell him what a horrible brother he'd been, and how he'd been much better off away from him.
Matt had his own conscience for those truths, he didn't need people to return from the dead to tell him about them.
He didn't need this, he swore to himself as the elevator door closed.
He had stopped needing it a long time ago.
****
It had taken everything TK had to knock on the door. In another life, in a perfect world, he would have never needed to knock. In a world as he wished it to be, that door would always be open to him. In a universe watched over by a more benevolent heaven, the hope which he had drawn up from his soul would not have been in vain.
But the heaven watching over TK was not benevolent, nor was his universe perfect. In his world, nothing worth having was easily gained. So as the elevator closed on the interminable silence of his long anticipated reunion, he was not surprised.
But the door was open to him, and as he stood in the threshold of the apartment, looking into the rooms that felt foreign, he promised himself: I will be welcome here. This will be my home again-this is where my life is, I just have to keep fighting.
He sighed and looked down at Kiu, who was staring at Gabumon as though she'd never seen the like before. Which, of course, she hadn't.
TK smiled wanly at Gabumon, mentally reminding himself that the digimon didn't know him. Then he glanced at the elevator, at his past that had just run through his fingers like water, and found he didn't care what Gabumon knew.
"Well, that didn't go well, did it? At least you stuck around, Gabumon."
Gabumon started at the sound of his name, and blushed when he realized he'd been staring. He stuttered slightly as he attempted a belated reply, watching TK step inside the apartment, leading an exceedingly curious Kiu. "How do you know my name?"
TK shrugged, a tired look in his eyes. "How do I know anything? No-don't answer that, I was just thinking out loud. I know about the Digital World, I was there, you know."
He was unconsciously rubbing his wrists as he spoke, where angry white scars still told a sad tale. He laughed, quietly, hollowly. "I-I don't know what to do now, though. I thought-I don't know. I don't know what to do now."
He looked so young, suddenly, and his eyes pleaded with Gabumon for help, as though he couldn't withstand the grief and disappointment without help. The digimon felt his heart go out to the boy, the Child of Hope, suddenly helpless amid the ruins despair had left of his family.
"Maybe I could tell you what's been going on since you-uh-left."
TK, lifting his eyes to the creature before him, his brother's partner, smiled in a way that made Gabumon feel instantly better, as though the Hope in TK had reached out and touched him, like Kari's Light had so often. That's when the ramifications hit the rookie, the ramifications for the Digital World. Hope had returned.
Suddenly, he had a lot to tell the boy before him.
*********
Sergeant Mark Hashiba, head of Missing Persons, hung up the phone with a frustrated click. Some days, it felt like everyone was out to fight him, and it was only just after noon. His day had started badly, with his kids leaving late for school, making him late for work, and now his detectives, all overburdened in the heat wave that made people do stupid things, were starting to subtly rebel. They were the usual complaints: too many cases, to few officers; too little pay, too small a budget; the coffee was too cold, the office was too warm, the fax machine was possessed, the printers were the spawn of Satan, it was his fault.
The air conditioning made fitful sputtering noises, not that the antique system did much to cool the building, but it was all they had, and if it went, he was sure his officers would walk out. Praying it would not collapse on him like everything else around here, he looked up at a knock on the door to his not-so-private office.
A familiar looking blond teenager was standing there, a nervous look on his face. He seemed to take a deep breath, and the spoke. "You're Sergeant Hashiba?"
Hashiba nodded, gesturing for the boy to enter and take a seat. A priest, accompanying the boy, stood silently in the doorway after giving the boy a stern but encouraging nod. "Yes, that's me. What can I do for you, son?"
The boy entered, but did not sit. He glanced around as though regretting his decision to come here, although, by the look on the priest's face, perhaps it had not been the boy's idea to come here at all. "I think you worked on my case, sir. My name is Ishida Takeru."
AN: I know what you're all thinking: He's been on his way home for like three chapters, let's get some action here! Well, this chapter isn't it. There is, however, some takari, and the reunion I know you've all been waiting for.
Just don't kill me when you read it.
That said, happy reading and please review! I'm using a computer that's almost as old as I am to bring this to you. That has to be worth something. By the way, that's why the formatting for this chapter and the last are a little ummm-screwy. FF.net doesn't like my word program, and refuses to see certain spaces, punctuation, etc. I apologize to the grammar conscious (like myself) who are disturbed by such things.
Thanks! Review!
I years had been from home,
And now, before the door
I dared not open, lest a face
I never saw before
Stare vacant into mine
and ask my business there.
My business,--just a life I left,
Was such still dwelling there?
"I years had been from home'
Emily Dickinson
The streets of Tokyo were bustling with people despite the continuing unprecedented heat wave. The streets were so crowded, in fact, even in the smaller community atmosphere of Odaiba, that the odds of running into someone you knew were rather slim.
However, there are some people who make a habit of beating the odds, and so it was that two such boys, one looking up at the skyscrapers, like a tourist, and the other looking inward, absorbed in his thoughts, chanced to slam into each other on that sunny, not so average morning.
Backpacks flying, the boys slammed to the ground, grunting slightly as they hit. Both swore rather fluently, and the older boy, brushing his blue- black hair out of his eyes, was surprised to hear the tall blond sprawled before him curse successively in English, Latin, and Japanese. The large gray dog the blond had been leading sniffed its master solicitously, and the turned to him. Sniffing the dark-haired boy cautiously, the animal immediately began to growl.
Looking up, the blond seized the dog's collar, pulling her away from the other boy. Speaking in a language the older boy did not recognize, the blond seemed to firmly admonish the dog before standing and offering his hand. With a final, cautious look at the dog who was obediently sitting but eyeing him murderously, the dark boy took the proffered hand and rose to his feet.
The courteous words of apology died on his lips as the blonde's hand closed around his. Something about this boy was burning him, a feeling like bright fire was charging down his arm and along his senses, finally traveling to the back of his neck where it seemed to intensify momentarily, before dissipating as they released each other. Except for a brief narrowing of his eyes, the other boy made no indication he had felt the same thing. Instead, a look of recognition filled his features.
"Ken!"
It was not a question, nor did the boy sound surprised. In fact, unless Ken was much mistaken, and he very rarely was in his own opinion, this boy looked angry, very angry and a little sad, a look almost like pity and disappointment. Searching the boy's face, Ken was forced to admit that the boy looked extremely familiar. Something about his coloring, although he knew few blondes. The expression on his face was easily placed, however-it was the exact expression that sappy Child of Light often wore when facing his minions, only intensified.
He kept his voice steady, though, revealing little. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met. How do you know me?"
This seemed to startle the blond slightly, and he looked annoyed, as though he had briefly forgotten something. He answered quickly and smoothly, however, in slightly accented but otherwise perfect Japanese.
"Only by reputation, like the rest of Tokyo. I apologize for addressing you so familiarly, I was just startled to find I'd run you, of all people, down in the street." The blonde's expression was closed, guarded, his eyes, an unusually intense blue, looked wise, almost ancient. It was a much older expression that Ken was accustomed to seeing on a person his age, or even younger, though the boy was taller than him by several inches.
Ken smiled affably, falsely, looking the strange boy and dog over carefully. "It's no problem, really, I get that a lot. You look familiar, though. There aren't many blondes of your height in Odaiba, or even Tokyo for that matter."
The boy seemed to consider his words carefully, and Ken couldn't help feeling as though he was approaching a battle. Somehow, he felt instinctively that this strange boy was a formidable opponent, one who would not easily accept defeat. He could almost picture them fighting in his flying fortress. and as he watched the boy, he saw a ugly red welt marring the boy's cheek, as though he had been struck with a whip. When he blinked, shocked, the image had gone and the boy had begun to speak.
"I'm from out of town, actually. I recently moved here from Alaska."
Ken blinked again, surprised twice in as many seconds. "Really? So that must be a-Malamute?--then," he gestured, indicating the dog, who continued to eye him darkly. "It's a beautiful animal. What were you speaking to it before, it didn't sound like English."
The blond pet the dog absently, still staring hard at Ken. "It's a female, actually. And I was speaking Inuit, a native language in Alaska. She knows I mean business when I speak it to her."
Ken arched an eyebrow, his expression equally intense. "Of course. Inuit, and I heard you speaking Latin and English before. And Japanese now. You are fluent in all these?"
The blond smiled calmly, clearly unruffled by what was becoming an intense, if subtle, verbal duel. "Mostly, yes," he replied modestly, but with a clear undertone of pride. "I also speak French."
"You must be quite a gifted linguist."
"Well, once you learn Latin, most other western languages come easily."
"Your Japanese sounds almost native."
"I was born here. I-" here the blond seemed to stumble for the first time, "I left when I was very young."
Ken nodded sagely, as though this explained all. "Well, I really must be going, I'm late for soccer practice as it is. It was very nice meeting you," and he paused significantly, picking up his backpack.
"TK." The boy replied simply, gathering his own things and getting his dog to attention with a brief gesture.
"TK?" Ken asked, an eyebrow arched in feigned polite curiosity.
"Takeru."
Hmph. "Is there a last name that goes with that?"
The blonde's smile was bright, but strangely brittle. He clearly considered the conversation over. "Yes, there is a last name. I'm sorry to have kept you, have a nice practice."
Brushing past him, TK walked firmly away from Ken, his exit a clear slap in the face. The dog hesitated briefly to growl at Ken, before trotting after her master, clearly pleased with having the last word. Watching the boy for a moment longer, Ken turned towards practice with the troubling feeling that he had lost something in that exchange.
***********************
TK walked swiftly through the streets, his feet knowing the way even when his mind did not. He was still reeling from his encounter with the Digimon Emperor, and their ensuing conversation. Clicking his tongue softly to keep Kiu moving despite the interesting smells that caused her to pause every block or so, he wondered that, of all the people he could have slammed into, it had to be Ken. The older boy had almost recognized him, he was sure, and he had felt his Crest react violently to the Dark Spore he knew Ken carried.
Shaking his head, he put his mind on the task ahead of him. He had only a small window of time to catch Matt at home, after his father went to work but before Matt left for school. But before he could face Matt, he had one more trial to get through, and it was even now looming before him, in all its verdant glory:
Odaiba Park.
It looked much the same as he remembered it, and indeed the day was much similar to the day he had last been in it. The day he had last been in Japan. There were fewer children in the park, only small children with their mothers on a weekday. He saw a few older children, in uniform and obviously getting an early start to school, walking the shaded paths in small groups, laughing and chatting with each other in the comfortable patterns of the everyday.
Kiu, not sensing her master's distress in her excitement to see greenery again, began tugging him forward. Swallowing the memories, TK squared his shoulders and walked into the park, watching the children dart across the path and look with curiosity at Kiu, who trotted with her tail held proudly aloft, always one to know when she was being admired.
His carefully constructed composure disappeared when a familiar voice appeared at his elbow, filled with mischief.
"Gee, that's a nice dog, mister."
He stumbled to a halt, causing Kiu to choke against the leash for a moment before she could notice his stop. Standing beside him in the shade of the tall trees, sunlight casting ever changing patterns across her, was Kari, smiling broadly at him.
TK gaped at her for a moment before sweeping her up into a hug, dropping Kiu's leash to swing the girl around him. Kari obligingly threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him as though she'd never let go. She gasped as they spun around, before he finally dropped her and held her out at arms length, grinning crookedly at her, his eyes sparkling.
"Now this is more like what I had in mind!" He exclaimed, releasing her to reclaim Kiu's leash. Kari squinted at him, a puzzled look in her chestnut eyes.
"Huh? I can't say that's what I had in mind for your first words to me!" She said, tone inquisitive, and her hands on her hips in mock annoyance.
TK's expression clouded slightly, although his smile did not falter. "I ran into Ken a few minutes ago-literally. It wasn't how I had planned to spend the first part of my morning, obviously."
Kari smiled sympathetically, although her voice was hard when she spoke. "You didn't tell him too much, did you? He's smart enough to figure all this out before we do, and we can't have that. If he-"
TK cut her off by placing his finger over her lips, his expression amused. "Don't worry, General, I stuck to name, rank, and serial number. The state secrets are safe."
Crossing her arms over her chest, Kari began to pout, although her eyes were still alight with joy. Her tone, however, was rather convincingly put out. "You're making fun of me! I'm trying to save the world, and you're making fun of me!"
He grinned, unrepentant. "Aren't you glad to have me back?"
"Arrgh!" She growled, punching him in the arm. "You are so-so-so-!"
He just grinned at her as she stuttered, watching the way her cheeks flushed and her brow creased as she searched for an adequately scathing adjective. Luckily, Kiu chose this pause to bark in annoyance at being ignored, a state of affairs she was unused to and found wholly unacceptable.
Shushing her, TK saved himself from Kari's wrath. "By the way, this is Kiu. My other best friend."
Kari was about to chastise him for his transparent attempt to change the subject when the silver dog trotted up to her and sat, extending one paw to be shaken. As TK had hoped, Kari melted on the spot, shaking the paw with all gravity, and then scratching the dog behind the ears, as Kiu whined appreciatively.
Glancing at his watch, TK gasped as something caught his eye. "You have to go! Now!"
Kari glanced up at once, startled. "What? Why?"
TK, already backing away, pointed over her shoulder. Glancing back surreptitiously, Kari also gasped, swinging back to him. Coming up the path were Yolei and Davis, both of whom would react badly to seeing Kari with a boy, and both of whom could very well notice TK's resemblance to Matt. Neither seemed to have noticed the pair yet, but Davis' 'Kari-radar' was sure to kick in any moment. The only question was whether it would go off before Yolei's 'cute-guy-radar' did.
Glancing between her approaching friends and the departing Takeru, Kari dashed after him, pushing him behind a tree. Kiu yelped in surprise, and TK opened his mouth to ask, but she shushed him, pressing something she pulled from her backpack into his hands.
"I've been carrying this around all week hoping I'd bump into you! Meet me after school, if you can!" Pulling him into one more breathless hug, she dashed back out onto the path, where TK could hear her greet the approaching digi-destined cheerfully.
Kneeling with his face away from the path, TK pretended to adjust Kiu's collar until the group had passed. Kiu, feeling this was a new game of some sort, helpfully washed his face with her tongue. After he lost sight of them around a curve in the path, TK stood wearily, looking at the object Kari had passed him.
It was a white, cotton fisherman's hat, with 'welcome home' written along the inside band.
****************************
"Remember, Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies."
The Shawshank Redemption
Stephen King
Matt dropped his breakfast dishes into the dishwasher with an irritable clank, sighing noisily as the intercom buzzer sounded. Wiping his hands carelessly on his uniform pants, Matt went to the door and activated the speaker.
"Ishida residence."
The intercom made a scratchy noise, and then a voice came through. "Hello sir. This is the doorman. You have a visitor down here. He says he's your brother. May I buzz him in for you, sir?"
Matt was silent for a long moment, and Gabumon, with eyes the size of dinner plates, watched from his perch on the top of the couch, where he had, until a moment before, been flat out on his back asleep in a remarkable Snoopy imitation.
Finally, he pressed the buzzer again, speaking wearily into the intercom. "You are aware my brother is deceased, correct?"
"Yes, sir. But the resemblance is remarkable, sir. I'm apologize for disturbing you, sir. I--- alright, alright. Sir, the boy says he has something to say to you?"
Matt growled, scowling at the door. "Fine, whatever. I need a good laugh."
There was a long pause, and the a young man's voice came over the com. "Geez, Matt. I had HOPED you would be a bit more FRIENDLY. Well, I guess I was wrong then."
The only sound in the apartment was the loud thump of Gabumon hitting the floor, shock sending him tumbling from his perch. Matt stood frozen, his finger pressed over the reply button, feeling as though he had been encased in ice. That voice-those words-it triggered something deep inside him, something he thought had died so long ago, so very long ago that until that very moment, he had forgotten its existence. That's what told him the boy was telling the truth, the truth about something that he had given up on.
Finally, a strangled whisper escaped him. "F--k me."
Gabumon frowned, wagging his finger at Matt. "Potty mouth, Matt."
"No kidding. That's not what I'm here for, big brother. If you want someone for that you're on your own."
Matt shook himself as he realized his finger was still pressing the reply button. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he addressed the speaker again. "Yes, you can come up. Buzz him in, please."
Silence reigned in the apartment in the interminable time between his strangled command the fateful knock on the door. Gabumon stood behind him, with the stunned look of someone who feels they should be saying something profound and comforting, but can't think of anything appropriate. Matt, meanwhile, stood in the immaculate apartment with the morning sun beating through the kitchen windows, feeling as though he had stepped back through time. He felt as he had the morning after TK's disappearance, when he had seen the police officer at the door and had been so sure, so positive that they'd found him.
The knock came, and Matt moved towards the door, opening it. All his memories of his brother seemed to flash before his eyes as the door seemed to crawl open-or maybe it had flown open? In a second and an hour, the light flowed in and his eyes cleared, and he looked down.
A dog smiled toothily back up at him.
Oh. He's not three anymore, stupid. He's-fifteen? Is that possible?
He looked up, straight into a pair of blue eyes level with his. The boy in the doorway seemed as tongue tied as he did, his deep eyes lost and confused. He was tan, his eyes bright and his blonde hair falling somewhat haphazardly into his face. He was easily as tall as Matt, but was built like an athlete. In his right hand, he was clutching a white hat.
Matt furrowed his brow at the boy, at TK, struggling to make a connection in his mind between the little boy he remembered and the young man before him. He was so big-how had he gotten so tall? What had happened to give him that solemn depth in his eyes? Looking at the teenager before him, something occurred to Matt, something which froze the blood in his veins.
This boy was not TK, not really. He was not the little boy Matt remembered, the small child that needed Matt to protect his innocence, his bright little spirit. Even if it was his brother, and his inner voice, so long silent, told him it was, they could never have what they'd had before. They could never regain what they'd lost. TK no longer needed his protection. He'd made it back on his own, albeit it took him twelve years, but still. He'd done it without Matt's help, after the older boy had so grievously failed him so many years ago.
It was hopeless. They'd never be more than related strangers, with little but blood and pain in common.
TK seemed to sense the destructive direction Matt's thoughts were taking, because he opened his mouth to speak. But Matt, suddenly furious with the universe and himself, did something unthinkable.
He left. He grabbed his book-bag, his uniform jacket, and mumbling something about being late for school, brushed by TK, into the hall. He walked away swiftly, not looking back to see the deeply hurt expression his younger brother wore. He couldn't stay, not to ask the hundreds of questions he knew would eventually be asked, not to hear the explanations, not wanting to hear the truth.
The truth was, he failed his little brother twelve years ago, and that failure had destroyed everything in his life. TK would no doubt blame him, would no doubt tell him what a horrible brother he'd been, and how he'd been much better off away from him.
Matt had his own conscience for those truths, he didn't need people to return from the dead to tell him about them.
He didn't need this, he swore to himself as the elevator door closed.
He had stopped needing it a long time ago.
****
It had taken everything TK had to knock on the door. In another life, in a perfect world, he would have never needed to knock. In a world as he wished it to be, that door would always be open to him. In a universe watched over by a more benevolent heaven, the hope which he had drawn up from his soul would not have been in vain.
But the heaven watching over TK was not benevolent, nor was his universe perfect. In his world, nothing worth having was easily gained. So as the elevator closed on the interminable silence of his long anticipated reunion, he was not surprised.
But the door was open to him, and as he stood in the threshold of the apartment, looking into the rooms that felt foreign, he promised himself: I will be welcome here. This will be my home again-this is where my life is, I just have to keep fighting.
He sighed and looked down at Kiu, who was staring at Gabumon as though she'd never seen the like before. Which, of course, she hadn't.
TK smiled wanly at Gabumon, mentally reminding himself that the digimon didn't know him. Then he glanced at the elevator, at his past that had just run through his fingers like water, and found he didn't care what Gabumon knew.
"Well, that didn't go well, did it? At least you stuck around, Gabumon."
Gabumon started at the sound of his name, and blushed when he realized he'd been staring. He stuttered slightly as he attempted a belated reply, watching TK step inside the apartment, leading an exceedingly curious Kiu. "How do you know my name?"
TK shrugged, a tired look in his eyes. "How do I know anything? No-don't answer that, I was just thinking out loud. I know about the Digital World, I was there, you know."
He was unconsciously rubbing his wrists as he spoke, where angry white scars still told a sad tale. He laughed, quietly, hollowly. "I-I don't know what to do now, though. I thought-I don't know. I don't know what to do now."
He looked so young, suddenly, and his eyes pleaded with Gabumon for help, as though he couldn't withstand the grief and disappointment without help. The digimon felt his heart go out to the boy, the Child of Hope, suddenly helpless amid the ruins despair had left of his family.
"Maybe I could tell you what's been going on since you-uh-left."
TK, lifting his eyes to the creature before him, his brother's partner, smiled in a way that made Gabumon feel instantly better, as though the Hope in TK had reached out and touched him, like Kari's Light had so often. That's when the ramifications hit the rookie, the ramifications for the Digital World. Hope had returned.
Suddenly, he had a lot to tell the boy before him.
*********
Sergeant Mark Hashiba, head of Missing Persons, hung up the phone with a frustrated click. Some days, it felt like everyone was out to fight him, and it was only just after noon. His day had started badly, with his kids leaving late for school, making him late for work, and now his detectives, all overburdened in the heat wave that made people do stupid things, were starting to subtly rebel. They were the usual complaints: too many cases, to few officers; too little pay, too small a budget; the coffee was too cold, the office was too warm, the fax machine was possessed, the printers were the spawn of Satan, it was his fault.
The air conditioning made fitful sputtering noises, not that the antique system did much to cool the building, but it was all they had, and if it went, he was sure his officers would walk out. Praying it would not collapse on him like everything else around here, he looked up at a knock on the door to his not-so-private office.
A familiar looking blond teenager was standing there, a nervous look on his face. He seemed to take a deep breath, and the spoke. "You're Sergeant Hashiba?"
Hashiba nodded, gesturing for the boy to enter and take a seat. A priest, accompanying the boy, stood silently in the doorway after giving the boy a stern but encouraging nod. "Yes, that's me. What can I do for you, son?"
The boy entered, but did not sit. He glanced around as though regretting his decision to come here, although, by the look on the priest's face, perhaps it had not been the boy's idea to come here at all. "I think you worked on my case, sir. My name is Ishida Takeru."