Hn. Everything's been getting a bit too happy in the last few chapters. So there will be a heavy, heavy dose of angst in this chapter. Inspired by my good friend Alene and the great work of Ladya Maxine, I've decided to add some content that may force me to bump the rating up to R if anyone thinks I should. (Evil laugh) I needed this.
Also, I've noticed that I've kinda stuck on Mitori's thoughts, so in this chapter I'll be showing the POVs of Matt and their Digimon (I'm sure lots of you would love to see what goes on in Shimamon's head) along with a brief Taichi moment. And, eh heh heh, there's no action like I said there would be (Gomen!). Just loads of drama and angst.
This chapter's theme is a Pat Benatar song that I've never heard but the lyrics were inspiration enough to write this.
Disclaimer: If Digimon were mine 02 would have been all about angst and teen drama with some bloody Digimon action thrown in.
Spirit, Sleeping Somewhere Cold
Chapter 6: Hell Is For Children
Whispers, whispers.....
Drifting somewhere between the light of awareness and the darkness of sleep, she could hear voices, the ever lurking voices, calling to her. Reminding her of her every deceit, her every sin. Try as she might, she couldn't shut them out, and soon she gave up trying and slowly, slowly let herself be consumed by her inner demons....
Shimamon watched her partner with intelligent golden eyes from above, striped tail twitching dangerously. Something was very obviously wrong with Mitori. She knew there was something ominous about her from the moment they met, though as Miaomon she couldn't register any feeling of dread that may have come from her. As Chosen and guardian, the two shared a spiritual link of sorts, and it was easy for the Data-type Digimon to sense the girl's emotions.
She wasn't a happy kid. That much she knew and could define. Not that she was surprised; not every Digimon was a bundle of happiness, and she herself had a few personal dilemmas. But Mitori's were different. Something told her that there was more to what happened between Yamato and her, and whatever it may be it was eating her from inside, and was drawing something to her...
Ochroid eyes narrowed when she saw Mitori wipe at her eyes with her arm, and her sensitive hearing could pick up a quiet sniffle. Great. She was crying. Shimamon had thought that Mitori was the type to keep her feelings bottled up and never let her true emotions show, especially around others. Maybe it was because she thought everyone was sleeping, and she wouldn't bother or worry them.
It was too late for that. The cat Digimon wasn't sure if Mitori knew, but Yamato was already worried sick about her. He was a lot better at keeping his troubles to himself.
With a disgruntled sigh, Shimamon rose from her belly to stretch out on all fours. Positioning herself carefully, she dropped from the tree limb, executing a few graceful somersaults in mid-air before landing silently in front of the raven-haired girl. She sat back on her haunches, waiting for Mitori to acknowledge her presence. The girl's head was slightly lowered, her arms wrapped around her knees as she sat back against the trunk of the tree, but she should have been able to see her.
Shimamon was unnerved by this; Mitori was staring right at her, and yet did not seem to see her at all. She tried calling her by her full name. "Mitori."
No response. The usually bright verdant eyes gazed listlessly ahead of her. Even the tears were running unnoticed down her cheeks. Shimamon frowned and butted her leg hard enough to get her attention. "Mitori," she repeated more sternly.
Finally, the emerald eyes blinked, then widened. Mitori jerked her head up, staring at Shimamon with surprise. "Shimamon? I was sleeping. Why did you wake me up?"
When Shimamon remained strangely unperturbed, Mitori laughed nervously. "Nani? Why do you look so serious?" She tried to not let the Digimon see her anxiety, and knew she was failing miserably, but tried anyway. "You wanna have a staring contest or something?"
"You were crying." Mitori didn't say anything, all traces of false humor leaving her face, and the Digimon continued. "Look, you're my partner, an' my friend, so you're s'posed to tell me what's wrong. It has something to do with Matt, doesn't it?"
There was a long moment of silence, Shimamon glaring with a mix of worry and irritation as Mitori gazed back with her hidden sorrow creeping up into her eyes. Her emerald gaze shifted to the right around to the other side of the trunk, where Yamato was sleeping peacefully with Takeru cradled in his arms, their Digimon resting on either side of them. They were half bathed in the warm sunlight, whereas she was closer to the shadows of the surrounding brush.
She looked back to her own Digimon, determination in her eyes as she forced herself to speak. "Please, don't tell Matt. I can't let him know yet. I think it really started one day when I was little, about T.K.'s age, and I went into the kitchen for something. My father came in, and..." She paused, obviously having difficulty with having to say this, replaying what had happened in her mind. Mitori wrapped her arms around herself to stop the shudder that came, and she looked downcast for a moment, biting her lip, and Shimamon had to set a worried paw on her leg to stop her from locking up inside herself.
Encouraged by her new friend, Mitori swallowed and continued. "What... what happened next would prove that my life was not what I thought it had been...."
(((())))
A small grin graced the face of Taichi, and he crossed his arms as he watched Sora fuss over Jyo, helping him to dust off his clothes. Mimi's face was flushed in embarrasment, and Koushiro chuckled quietly to himself, their Digimon all content with being back with their friends.
Well, most of them anyway.
A small frown creased his brow, and Taichi placed a hand on his chin and cast his eyes down as his thoughts turned to Yamato. He was deeply worried about his friend, little Takeru, and even the girl who was important enough to Yamato that he jumped over a cliff for her. If she was the eighth Child, then the dark forces of Myotismon would no doubt be after them. He knew Yamato and his Digimon were strong and could take care of themselves, but still, his mind and heart wouldn't be at ease until all of the Chosen were reunited. If anything happened to any one of them, he would...
A gentle tug on his shorts and Agumon's words brought him out of his troubled thoughts. "Tai? Something the matter? Everyone's starting to worry about you."
"Hm? What?" Taichi blinked, then brought his hand down to look at the concerned faces of the small group of Digimon and children. "Hey, it's cool," he assured, smiling broadly and letting his eyes wander to meet each of the others, his gaze lingering on Sora before he continued. "Really, I'm fine. If everyone's ready, let's go and find the rest of the gang."
Everyone nodded, each relieved to see that their leader was taking the absence of his close friend well, and started towards where the Digivices had indicated the three missing Children.
(((())))
She knew she couldn't understand, no, she would never be able to begin to comprehend the pain that was so clearly etched in Mitori's words and expression. Shimamon was a Digimon, born of a egg, and had no parents. No loving mother, no protective father. But every human child had these things, by far the most important people in their lives. So why would someone who had loved her, raised her, do something like that?
"I... I should have known," Mitori said, her words wavering as her lip quivered. "But I had been so young, so hopeful, thinking that nothing could ever go wrong in my little world. But that day, I knew there was something wrong. I can still feel...." She wrapped her arms around herself tightly, rubbing her arms as if trying to fight away the feeling of those rough, large hands that still lingered on her. "He reeked of alcohol... I've hated that smell ever since. It wasn't sake; beer, some real strong American brand. Just the thought of it makes me sick..." Mitori choked back a sob, and Shimamon noticed as the girl was biting her lip that a fiery rage was slowly building up in the watery emerald eyes.
The power of that rage... Shimamon could feel it, like some demon was trying to break free, threatening to tear apart Mitori from the inside in a ruby shower of despair... She pushed that terrifying image away and, seeking to quell this power, she spoke her thoughts. "Why would your father do a thing like that?"
Instantly, like a sudden downpour of cold rain, that fire burned out, but what replaced it alarmed Shimamon even more. Now, she felt Mitori was fading away from her. Physically, the girl was still there in front of her, but it felt like she was drawing away from her. Sinking into some ocean of her fears... Shimamon had to keep her talking. "Tori, please explain. I don't understand. He's the man who bore an' raised you. Why would he do that?"
"... Because he could," Mitori replied quietly after a few moments. "You see, after that I learned that he wasn't my father." She was silent.
Shimamon was confused. So the bastard wasn't her father. She could understand why Mitori would be so tormented after that. Her life had been somewhat of a lie. But there was one question left. "Tori, what does this have to do with Matt?"
It would have gone unnoticed to anyone but a sharp-eyed Digimon, but a tremble went through Mitori briefly, then she sighed, not with composure, but with a melancholy acceptance of whatever it was she had to admit to.
"It has...everything to do with him. The reason he's so... lost, damaged... It's all because of me. It's really all my fault." A new set of tears began to cascade down her face, and Shimamon knew that she was suffering from another breakdown. "It's all my fault!"
The Digimon didn't mean to cause her so much distress, but now that the wound was exposed, she only needed to dress it and let it heal. It would leave a scar, but over time the pain would fade away. Shimamon would help her, and she wouldn't be alone. The other Chosen Children would surely help her, and of course Yamato would.
He needed to know.
Shimamon crawled into Mitori's lap, rubbing her head against the girl's cheek and purring softly.
"Shimamon...?" The Digimon guessed that she was surprised at her tenderness. Why should she? Underneath all the spunk and attitude Shimamon was still Mitori's partner, friend, and loyal guardian.
"I'm not going to ask you how this is your fault, 'cause that's not for me to know right now. After what you said earlier, I don't think I can take much more. But you need to tell Matt."
"I can't," Mitori said hopelessly, her hands clutching the cat-like Digimon. "If I do, he'll-"
"Don't think that way," Shimamon interrupted sternly, moving her head back enough to look at Mitori straight. "If you don't, the same thing will happen as before. You two don't like keeping secrets from each other, do you? I'm sure Matt doesn't think it's fair that you know the cause of his depression when you've never told him yours, yet he doesn't complain or mind at all. Your pain is the same as his, and he understands that even if he won't say it in words. Don't you think he deserves to know the truth?"
"But, Shimamon, what if he... I can't bear to...!" Her voice was beginning to waver as was her resolve, and her sobs were interrupting her words.
"Yare yare, you humans," Shimamon sighed, then laid a scarlet clawed paw on the dispirited Chosen. "I thought you all had faith in your feelings, but you're always doubting them. He won't leave you, if that's what you're afraid of. To each other, you two are the only ones that make sense in that screwed-up world of yours. He'll stick by you, no matter what."
Without any words, Mitori hugged Shimamon to her, holding to her lest she sink into an ocean made of her own doubt. The Digimon was glad she was finally accepting her fate and her as a friend, someone else she could rely on.
"Don' worry 'bout a thing," Shimamon comforted quietly, her feathery whiskers brushing Mitori's ears. "Whatever goes down, I'll be right there with you."
(((())))
Yamato watched in surprised interest at the interaction between Mitori, his brother, and the three Digimon. Maybe it was Takeru's contagious cheerfulness, but she was smiling and happily going along with their antics. She was explaining about the culture of America, occasionally pausing to scold Shimamon who would make a snide comment. Those two seemed especially different. At first, they had argued like two bitter rivals that were forced to get along. Now, he could only describe them as bickery but loving sisters; it was like Mitori would forget that Shimamon was a Digimon.
Maybe he shouldn't have been that surprised. Gabumon was by far the only true friend he had in this world, as he was always somewhat distant from the other Chosen Children, sometimes even from his brother. They were overly sensitive to the feelings of everyone around them. Remarkable beings, what humans often strived to be like, but far too cruel to ever achieve that near perfection.
Right now, Yamato wished he was at least as receptive as Gabumon, Patamon, and especially Shimamon were. He had a feeling that everyone was involved in some big secret, and that he wasn't allowed to be in on the news. A part of him almost didn't want to know; though they were all jubilant, he would briefly catch glimpses of condolence aimed towards Mitori from the Digital Monsters. Only Takeru was oblivious to the conflict of emotions in the air. He could also tell that Mitori was trying to hide something from the others, forcing herself to keep smiling.
And every time she would look his way, she would just as quickly avert her eyes, but not before he could get a peek at some sort of regret, maybe, in her emerald orbs.
Could she just not stand the sight of him now? Did just looking at him make a piece of her heart break away, as the very thought of her would make his?
"-san? Nii-san!"
Yamato brought his head up at Takeru's call. Walking behind the others with his hands jammed into his jean's pockets, he hadn't noticed that his little brother had been addressing him. Takeru looked so happy, walking with Mitori, holding her hand and getting to know her, and he was sure he had forgotten about him. The group had halted and were all focused on him now, the unnamed leader with the absence of Taichi. He wasn't used to all the attention, but kept the indifferent tone in his voice and expression. "Nani?"
"Do you think we'll reach the others before it gets dark?"
Takeru's question prompted Yamato to turn his icy gaze upwards to the sky, and he saw that night would be upon them in a few minutes. They had all taken that nap at about noon, and he had no idea how long they had slept, but they had been traveling for less than an hour. "No. It'll be night by the time we reach them, and you know how dangerous it is to travel when it gets dark. And besides, we haven't eaten anything."
"A'ight, I've got that covered," Shimamon said, nodding her head towards the right to indicate the distinct gurgle of a stream. "I'll catch some fish. You humans can stick to fruit and stuff, but I need mah meat."
"Shimamon," Yamato saw Mitori turn her eyes from the sky to her partner. "Be fair, you baka neko. We need our protein, too."
"Oi," Shimamon growled, translating whatever the ebony haired girl said as an insult. "Ya need protein, dig up some bugs or somethin'."
"Etchi!" Takeru stuck out his tongue. "No thanks, Shimamon!"
Yamato almost smiled at this, but instead only sighed and closed his eyes. "Alright, then. Shimamon can handle the fish, and Takeru, Gabumon and I will gather some firewood. Tori," Yamato opened his eyes to look at her, not surprised to see her giving her attention to something in the bushes. "Think you can handle finding some fruit or nuts? Patamon can help you."
"Sure," Mitori only nodded, again avoiding meeting his eyes and turning to Patamon. "I need to ask a favor, Patamon. I think I see my backpack, but it's deep in the brush. Think you can reach it?"
"Of course," Patamon said, hovering over to Mitori.
"We'll be making camp in that clearing over there," Yamato said, planting his right hand on his hip and jerking the thumb of his left one to the group's left. "Digimon will probably come to the stream for water, so we don't wanna camp too close to it. Everyone meet here in about thirty minutes, okay?"
(((())))
"America sure sounds like a fun place, ne, nii-san?"
"Sure, yeah," Yamato casually replied, trying to keep his mind on just gathering small logs.
He heard Takeru laugh, a sound like that of a choir of angels caroling in reverence of the Child of Hope. "You sound distracted. Are you thinking about Tori?"
Yamato unceremoniously dropped the logs he had gathered, mentally cursing himself for being bothered by his brother's simple question.
"You okay over there, nii-san?" Takeru asked over his shoulder from where he was crouched, gathering some thin long sticks to grill the fish on once Shimamon returned.
"I'm fine," Yamato said slowly and quietly, his voice coming out like the growl of an irritated wolf. He took a breath to compose himself and steady his words. "This is where we'll make the fire," he continued, kneeling for a moment to arrange the logs into a pyre, then stood up straight and glanced around. "Now, for some flint..."
"Allow me," Gabumon suddenly said at Yamato's side, depositing his gathering of wood. The blonde stepped back as he sensed his Digimon's intention and, courtesy of his blue fire attack Blue Blaster, a fire was soon roaring.
"Arigato, Gabumon." With a weary sigh, Yamato settled down near the flame, wrapping his arms around one drawn up knee and resting his chin on it. His crystal blue held flecks of orange as he gazed into the blaze, sinking down into his darker thoughts and imagining the flames of hell before him, seeking to scorch the deepest pits of his soul in eternal torture, for no amount of fire would be able to purify him.
"Nii-san?"
Yamato jerked at his brother's cool hand on his bare arm. Shaking his head to clear his mind, he looked at his brother, finding himself entranced by the blue orbs. Together, most people would mistake them for twins, but though they shared the same head of golden blonde, there were vast differences in their other shared feature. Their eyes were the same shade of azure, but his always held an icy steel glare, forever keeping all his feelings locked away from all who would seek them. Takeru's, he always felt, were more like the soothing waters of a gentle sea with the purity of a cherub. He would always feel inferior whenever he looked at the perfection that was his brother.
"Nanda, Takeru?"
A worried frown marred the gentle features of the younger blonde. "You seem upset. Is it because of Tori? Don't you like her anymore?"
"... What do you mean?" Yamato asked, the usually cold tone replaced by untainted curiousity as he leaned back on his palms. The way Takeru had asked, it seemed like he knew that he had known Mitori for a long time, but he hadn't told him that he only knew her from school. And Takeru had never met Mitori before, right?
Those precious crystal blue widened in amazement. "Gee, have you forgotten? You and Tori were always together. I remember once, when I was real little, I was playing and fell down and got hurt. I cried, but soon you and Tori were there and made me feel better. You would play your harmonica and she would sing. You loved Ri-chan's singing, Matt, so how could you forget?"
Yamato was in a bit of shock. Normally he would have had his doubts, but his brother was usually quiet, and when he spoke he was one to be listened to. Ri-chan.... That was what he had called Mitori earlier. Maybe it was because he was younger, but Takeru could remember his early childhood better than he could, and he had been able to recall that incident clearly.
They all knew each other when they were little?
/Come to think of it, even before the Digital World I've felt like I've known Tori for a long time. I thought it was because I... No, forget that./
"Did something happen when she came to Digiworld? Are you mad at her for something?"
"No, well, not really..." Yamato couldn't take it anymore and looked away from his brother.
"Whatever it is, please make up and get along. Tori's always been your best friend, and you care for her a lot. You still do, right?"
That was a question that Yamato couldn't even pretend to answer, and his eyes shimmered in overwhelming emotions as he kept his gaze locked on the tiny inferno in front of him, watching the logs crackle and burn in agony.
"Matt," Gabumon said softly from Yamato's left. "Tori is your friend, is she not?"
"Yeah."
"So what kind of Child of Friendship do you think you'd be if you don't talk to her?" Yamato turned his head to his partner, who smiling his warm -but always toothy- grin. "Her friendship means so much to you. Are you willing to let it fly out of your grasp?"
Before he could answer, Yamato's attention was grabbed by a sudden rustling in the brush. Instinctively, he pulled Takeru closer to him, but soon relaxed when the forms of Patamon, Shimamon, and Mitori emerged from the undergrowth.
"Wassup with the long faces?" Shimamon questioned curiously, six fresh silver fish dangling from a vine string tied around her tail.
"Nani mo," Takeru replied simply, a smile so bright that it countered against the impending darkness of night on his face. With a brief glance and affectionate squeeze to his brother, he got up and rushed over to Mitori. "Whatcha got there, Ri-chan?"
Yamato turned his gaze from the flames and noticed for a second that there was a flash of disbelief on Mitori's face. He guessed that she too already knew about their meeting in the past.
So, she had been keeping something from him. What other secrets were hidden down in those emerald depths?
A smile soon graced her, covering up her bewilderment. "Patamon said that these are kinda like apples and almonds. Also," -she turned slightly to show him the bag on her back- "I found my backpack. So we can have dessert afterwards, if it's okay with Matt."
"Can we, nii-san?" Takeru looked back at Yamato, his eyes shining with the hope of having real candy after such a long time.
It wouldn't do him any harm, as long as he didn't have too much. "Whatever," Yamato replied quietly with a shrug.
Within a few minutes, the six fish were propped on the twigs Takeru had gathered and roasting near the fire, with the guidance of Yamato who was quite the chef compared to Mitori who couldn't bake a potato without the assistance of a microwave. She and Takeru, along with Patamon and Gabumon, conversed quietly while enjoying the fruit and nuts while Shimamon dozed nearby, mumbling something about baka ningen and their burnt food.
Yamato silently listened, his eyes glued to but not seeing the half eaten food in his hands. It was odd how normal and carefree Mitori could sound when she was just talking. Then again, Takeru had said she liked to sing, so maybe she was just good at disguising her voice and making sound however she wanted it to. Come to think of it, he could remember a few times when he would catch her singing or humming softly to herself, but it was always a sad, mournful tune, much like the music on his harmonica.
Well, there was that one song they both liked. It wasn't exactly melancholy, but more of a song of loyalty and devotion, even if the feeling wasn't returned. How did it go again....?
"Here."
He recognized the melodic but haunting voice of Mitori through the dark fog of his mind. Yamato then chided himself for describing her like that. Her voice had done nothing but haunt him for the past few months; there was nothing melodic about it. Lifting his eyes only by a little, he saw that she was offering him a cooked fish. He wanted to raise his gaze further, but fearing what he would see -or wouldn't see- he only murmured a thank you and gently accepted, inwardly flinching when he felt the brush of her fingers against his gloved own. He heard her hesitate before going back to sit by Takeru, and the rest of the meal was finished in silence.
Wanting to break the tense calm that had settled, Yamato rose as soon as he was finished and announced that he was going to keep watch. He asked Gabumon to stay behind and hastily left the group, and the girl that was beginning to plague his thoughts.
(((())))
Gabumon sighed heavily after Yamato's departure, giving his attention to the raven haired girl after the blonde disappeared into the darkness of the night.
"You're not going to go after him?"
Gabumon smiled compassionately when he saw that Mitori was taken aback by the reptile Digimon's question. "Don't be alarmed. I overheard only the end of your conversation with Shimamon earlier."
"So, you know everything," Mitori said despondently, hugging a sleeping Takeru closer to her side and glancing towards the snoozing Patamon.
"I just know that you need to talk to Yamato. You know, you and I are probably the ones closest to him in a special way. He loves Takeru and is very protective of him, but he is his brother and the only one of his family that he's somewhat close to. But now that they've been in the Digital World, Takeru is beginning to rely on others and take care of himself. Lately, I believe he needs Takeru more than Takeru needs him."
Mitori's next words proved she wouldn't be persuaded so easily. "But he has you, and the other Chosen Children. It doesn't matter if he has me or not."
"Every friend is dear to Yamato. You know that he is very selfless and willing to risk himself to protect those he cares about. Still, he distances himself from everyone, even Takeru, and I'm glad that he at least relies on me enough to confide in. And I would never abandon Yamato," Gabumon added sincerely, "He really is my best friend.
"But you are a special case, Mitori. I've never seen Yamato so emotional around you. You know that he doesn't express himself in words, but I can see it in all kinds of other ways. It's like he's in pain and yet more joyful than I've ever seen him when he's around you. He knows that you're keeping something from him, and it's tearing him apart."
"I know, I know, but... You know that it's my fault. I'm sure you know what will happen if I tell him. You know that when he's upset, he pushes others away from him, and I don't want to.... I don't want to...!" Not wanting to wake Takeru, she eased him down on the thick carpet of grass quickly but carefully, then wrapped her arms around herself to ease the trembling of an approaching breakdown, hanging her head. "It's not important!" Her voice was quiet but hoarse from choking back sobs. "He's one of the Chosen! And I don't even know why I'm here! How can I distract him from saving this world?"
"Mitori...." Gabumon had thought Mitori was like Yamato, who often closed himself off whe he was about to reveal too much and apologize afterwards for showing what he most likely thought was weakness. Mitori, as he could see, didn't quite shut herself off, but forgot about the world and hid inside of herself, but it showed much more vividly than Yamato's emotionless wall of ice.
He wondered if Yamato had ever witnessed one of her breakdowns. Judging from how upset he was at Mitori keeping her secret from him, he most likely had not. Maybe that was why he cared about her so much. She was always comforting him, and never weighed him down with her own problems. Instead of thinking it was unfair, he must have thought it was most gracious of the girl who often felt like she was alone and forgotten by the world.
There was no way he wouldn't stand by her. Yamato would need to time to meditate about the revelation on his own, but in the end he wouldn't leave Mitori alone. She had not, after all.
Rising to his feet, Gabumon went to Mitori's side and laid a leathery paw on her shoulder, the gesture causing her convulsions to cease and peek at him through her ebony bangs.
"Don't be afraid. Yamato won't abandon what little hope he has in his life. You believe in your friendship, right?"
Mitori immediately nodded. "With all of my heart."
"Then go to him." Gabumon smiled reassuringly, and he was startled at the sudden hug Mitori gave him. She didn't seem like the hugging type; she just seemed to be full of surprises. He could feel all of her gratitude in that one quick gesture, and she swiftly got to her feet and headed off towards Yamato.
"I'l have to ask Shimamon how everything turns out," Gabumon said to himself as he settled down beside Takeru to keep him warm, the fire ever so slighty beginning to grow dimmer.
(((())))
/What could she be doin'?/ Shimamon mentally growled, swishing her tail impatiently. With everyone distracted with their own worries, she had slipped out of the small camp during the meal. She was now perched on the limb of a tree that bordered the edge of the forest that led into a small clearing on the banks of the stream. Yamato was sitting just by the edge of the stream, the waters an inky black with a few streaks of the deepest blue in the dark night.
The Data-type Digimon was sure that Gabumon had a small talk with the girl, and she was expecting her to show up any minute. Then her sensitive ears picked the sound of someone coming from the woods.
/About time./ Shimamon saw Yamato stiffen when he picked up on the sound too, then relax, but not with comfort. She only had to turn her head a little to see Mitori emerge from the shadows, hands folded in front of her in a... timid gesture? /She must be really nervous about this./ Her head was bowed, and she only raised it when she neared Yamato. Even her voice was hushed and restrained, sounding muffled and weak in the surrounding gloom.
"Yama--mmf!"
/Well THAT ruins the mood!/ Shimamon silently groaned, slapping a paw over her face. Not watching where she was going, Mitori had ended up tripping over a root and planted facefirst into the ground. /Oh yeah, real dramatic. /
"Tori!"
At hearing Yamato call her name in concern, Shimamon removed her paw and was surprised to see him kneeling beside her. /Aw, so he does care./ Mitori drew up her knees under her before pushing herself up with her palms firmly on the ground. Shimamon watched as two children's eyes met when Mitori lifted her head. They couldn't look at each other for long, and Yamato was first to turn his gaze away. The Digimon's sharp eyes could pick up on the little frown in Mitori's brow.
"You should go back to camp," Yamato said quietly.
"No. You know I have something to tell you." Mitori's frown deepened in determination. "I don't want you to beat yourself up over your parent's decision anymore, because.... Because it's not your fault."
"Of course it is. I couldn't be the perfect child they wanted, and I wasn't enough to keep them together. They loved Takeru so much, and mom didn't want me to set a bad example for him. So she left, all because of me." When he finally looked back at Mitori, his eyes were lackluster. "That's it. I'm sure Gabumon told you to tell me that it's not my fault and everything will be all right, so I can have the faith to go on and save the Digital World, but it's not that simple."
Yamato rose and walked over to the stream, stopping at its edge. "I'm the reason I don't have a family, and I'll live with this burden until my death and throughout eternity. So, go back, Mitori. There's nothing you can do."
Mitori sat back on her heels, and Shimamon saw that her frown had been replaced with a look of utter disbelief. In the next second, she imitated Yamato's expression earlier with a stoic look, composing herself with what she had to say to next. "Gabumon doesn't care if you save this world or not. That's your choice, and whatever you decide he will be with you. He just wants you to be happy.... and so do I."
Mitori stood, sighed heavily, then gazed at Yamato, even though all she saw was his back. Shimamon tensed, suddenly sick, and knew that she was experiencing Mitori's current feelings which were so strong that she felt even the slightest tremor.
"I'm sure you've figured out by now that we grew up together. I think the reason we don't remember is because we were separated at a young age. Our parents knew each other somehow, maybe from college or something. Everything was fine for a while, until we were about six or seven. My father found out that I wasn't really his daughter, and that my mother and your father had been fooling around for quite some time. My mother and... stepfather, I guess, stayed together, though they haven't been happy ever since. And your parents divorced. So there you go. My very existence is the reason your life is a living hell."
Shimamon held her breath, thinking that the slightest exhale would shatter the silence that fell over the two children, and for a few tense moments was left with her own musings. Humans were such fragile and weak creatures. So fickle, with such little trust. That must be why children were often the hope of the world, for every adult was flawed beyond repair. Then again, these two children had already been through more ordeals than most adults would see in ten lifetimes, their hearts cracked to the point that a feather could shatter their very souls.
The Digimon could see that there was a tiny glimmer of hope in Mitori's eyes as she waited for Yamato say or do something. The blonde, though Shimamon couldn't see his face, was struggling with himself, as she could discern the shuddering shoulders. He dropped to the ground with a thud, resting his elbows on his knees and his head on a fist enclosed in a palm.
That glimmer of hope was beginning to fade. Mitori took a step forward, and began to reach out to the blonde. "Yama--"
"Don't."
The ice in his voice made her freeze, but it was his movement that caused her to recoil her hand as if she had been burned. Shimamon saw that when she began to say his name, Yamato had cringed as though he had been struck.
She just gave up. Mitori's bangs covered her eyes, but Shimamon thought she saw her lip tremble, as if she was going to say something. No words came out, and in a swift movement Mitori turned on her heel and began to trek back towards Takeru and the others.
Shimamon rose from her belly to follow her partner, but not before glancing back to Yamato. Focusing, she could just determine a wet shimmer on his cheek.
Just how long would these two have to suffer?
In silent leaps, Shimamon pursued her partner, listening and translating the whispers of the leaves in a gentle breeze...
Losing, losing....
((((((())))))))
Editing done, chapter over. Thank you for the new review, Ginger-chan. I would love it even more if I received more before the next chapter. If you are in desperate need of more drama, check out my new Frontier fic. Afterwards, you can head over to the website managed by my friend Alene and me. There's not much up, but we will be accepting fanfics, art, etc. Just paste and e-mail. The site is dedicated to Fallen Angel/Demon Digimon, and the address is
A mix of drama and action will be in the next chapter, demon's honor.
Yare yare - good grief
etchi - gross
baka neko - stupid cat
arigato - thanks (More formally it would be domo arigato gozaimasu- thank you very much)
nanda - what is it?
nani mo - nothing
ningen - human (Shimamon said "stupid humans")
Review or be damned to the sulfurous pits of hell!