And so it begins. Again.
Back during my days in the Teen Titans fandom, I got into the habit of doing Episode Rewrites. Taking bits and pieces of established canon and blending it with prior comic knowledge and a dash of originality to create something new and fun. It was a fantastic exercise in imaginative storytelling. Each one of my subsequent attempts grew more and more bold.
This time will be no exception, only more episodes = bigger story. MUCH bigger.
If you've come here looking for a close parallel of TRI with a few modest alterations, I'm afraid you've clicked on the wrong fic. Will I still keep to the same approximate timeline? Yes? Will there be some scene parallels in my retelling? Of course. But otherwise, I'm telling the entire story from scratch. MY way.
And yes, there will be headcanon.
Kinda like this:
DIGIMON TRI: BALANCE
-Prologue-
Fourteen Years Ago...
o
Rumour spread far and wide across the land. Little more than whispers in the wind at first, but even the faintest breeze could strengthen into a great storm. And in the eye of said storm lay the Village of Beginnings. Aptly named, for it was there that all life in the World began.
Including the one clutched protectively in the guardian digimon's arms.
Elecmon was well aware of the eyes watching his every move as he stepped from the cave's entrance. He paid them little heed, devoting the sole of his attention to the swaddled child. So small and helpless. Too helpless. Unable to move or speak or even see, with tiny eyes shut in peaceful slumber.
Babies were not meant to sleep so soon after hatching. It was unnatural. They were meant to expel all the pent up energy contained within their egg. Burst forth and greet the new world in birth—or, sometimes, rebirth—before venturing out in search of their next evolution. This Baby could do none of those things, and yet, deep down, Elecmon knew it was not a simple matter of defection. Nor the curious mystery of missing eggshells surrounding the area in which it was found.
Little of that seemed to matter when the mere sight of such an innocent face brought about warmth as he had never known. Warmer than any evolution he'd ever witnessed.
Not a sound could be heard for more than a kilometer. Unusual for so diverse a crowd of that size.
"Well?" It was Ogremon who spoke first, impatient to the point of anxiousness.
"Patience," Leomon closed his eyes, emitting a scoff at his eternal rival. "A moment such as this must not be rushed."
Tensions rose as the crowd eyed Ogremon with caution. Several of the smaller digimon braced themselves to scatter, if necessary. However, for once, the viral creature's hair-trigger did not go off. He shot a single look Leomon's way before slouching against the nearest tree.
Fabric rustled. Attention returned to the Baby, who had begun to stir, A series of small, nearly indiscernible twitches of muscle. Elecmon used the blanket to carefully wipe at the Baby's face, and all too soon after, the Baby fell still once more. There was no crying. No laughter. No other signs of movement.
And yet...
"Healthy."
Murmurs erupted throughout the Village. Some of them, happy, Others, wary. Surprised. Curious. Wondrous. There was no single consensus over how to feel, and it showed on each of their faces.
"It should not be possible."
"Is it broken?"
"Is this some kind of miracle? Or a warning?"
"But what will become of—"
"Enough." Elecmon's eyes narrowed, silencing the masses with a single look. He did not dare raise his voice for fear of disturbing the Baby further, though the impact was no less powerful. The world around him fell still in their lingering uncertainty, and he took this time to properly clear his throat before continuing. "Gossip as you will, but I have found no singular reason not to treat this as more than any other birth. Even if the circumstances are...unorthodox."
"Unorthodox!" One of the Gekomon croaked, throwing its wiry arms in the air. "It's unprecedented! Everyone knows that Digimon are to be born from eggs. EGGS! And the timing..." he trailed off, visibly shuddering in lieu of finishing his own sentence.
"What do we tell them?" A lowly Candmon wanted to know.
Metal clinking. Everyone turned back to see Leomon resting a paw against the hilt of his sword. Though his body language remained calm, perhaps even relaxed, the bodies of several others around him tensed again. Moreso when Ogremon, too, mirrored his movements with his club.
"How concerned should we be?" The lion Digimon questioned.
All eyes turned to Elecmon in anticipation.
But it was another who answered: "Perhaps your proclaimed wisdom is not so vast after all, dear Leomon."
Eight wings glistened in the early afternoon sun. Each extending to the full of their span, casting a shadow over Elecmon and the Baby. In the center, a cherub. Fair, with blonde curls and perpetually youthful face. Only the four metal rings around each limb hinted at the true power contained within such a small creature.
"Lucemon," Elecmon bowed his head in greeting towards the Holy Digimon.
"Not quite."
The words gave Elecmon pause. He looked again and nearly did a double-take.
It was not so easily perceptible at a glance. A face so normally deceptively in its cheerfulness was blank. Eyes that usually shone brighter than twin suns were as cold and distant as a moonless night. Skin left pale to the point of iridescence—and, in fact, was enveloped in a faint, ethereal glow indicative of the true entity within.
Realizing his error, Elecmon stumbled back in shock.
"It's...you." Fear irrationally swept over him. Not for his own safety, but for that of the Baby he clutched that much more protectively in his arms. "But how? Why?"
"You know why I am here. Let me see the Child."
A shiver ran down the guardian's spine so deep, he forgot to correct the evolution label.
His hesitation did not go unnoticed, and an apathetic sigh passed through the cherub's lips.
"Steady your mind. I am neither here to hurt nor punish. What is done cannot be undone. A new life in and of itself is not a crime." With a single tilt of the head, the Baby in Elecmon's arms was now within its view. Empty eyes stared at the swaddle of warmth and light and remained unfazed. "But a life such as this one will not go unnoticed for long."
Another shiver. "Surely, he has no reason to care?"
"On the contrary. He has ever reason. Which is why the Child cannot stay here. Not where detection is not only likely but certain."
A cluster of Numemon began dancing in place, their beady eyes wide.
"We would gladly take the Baby back with us! It would be our honor! Our underground home is often overlooked, and there is safety in numbers!"
"But not brains," Ogremon scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. He sent the Numemon a look that sent their numbers scurrying in fear, only to be silenced in turn by a heated glare from Leomon.
"Pay him no heed," Leomon shook his head, then surprised the Numemon by taking a knee. His expression softened. "Your offer is a noble one, Numemon. It does not go unnoticed."
Their faces visibly brightened, eyes shimmering with joy.
"But is is not enough." The being inside Lucemon cut in, shaking its head. "Numemon's underground community goes unnoticed, not unknown. For the sake of all, the Child will be sent away. Far beyond even our reach."
Elecmon's jaw dropped.
"You would banish one so defenseless?! In such a state, even isolation would mean certain death."
"I said nothing of isolation."
It was then Lucemon descended upon then, closing the remaining distance. Movements were swift and deliberate. The Baby was taken from Elecmon's arms before the guardian had time to process what was happening. Yet, to his great surprise, a similar degree of care and caution was given to holding it. Lucemon even began to rock back and forth in a manner so lulling that more than a few Numemon's eyes dropped from watching.
Any attempts at protesting died before they could be fully realized; Lucemon rose into the air once more, leaving the digimon below to stare up in awe.
"The Child will be given protection. That much is still within our power. A guardian...no," in a rare moment of self-correction, the entity gave pause. Contemplation followed. Then a solution: "Two guardians. Should the first one fail. Arrangements will be made at once."
"I don't like it," Elecmon muttered, claws anxiously twitching at empty air. Already, he could feel the lack of warmth filling his person combined with the crushing new weight of the unknown to come.
"Fortunately, that is not a factor in this decision. My word is final. The Child will be brought to a place where even He would not think to look."
o
o
o
o
o
Present Day...
o
The cabin of the plane shook from turbulence, startling the young boy awake.
"Are you alright, sweetie?" His mother asked from the adjacent seat.
"Hai—" He began, in a semi-automatic response, before realizing his error. English. Not Japanese. Not for a few more hours, at least. "I mean...I'm fine, mama. You don't need to worry about me."
He followed it with a charming, if slightly hazy, smile. This seemed to satisfy the woman, who returned to the novel she'd been reading.
Adjusting himself in his seat, Wallace winced upon realizing there were parts of him that had yet to receive the memo he was awake. A crick in his neck was solved by rolling his head back and forth. The slight tingling in his left foot proved a greater challenge, but it went ignored as he instead glanced at the large tote bag sitting partially beneath the seat in front of him.
Two pairs of glossy eyes were peeking back at him through an opening along the zipper.
Smiling, he checked to make sure there were no attendants in sight before grabbing a few peanut packs and slipping them into his bag. The fabric jerked sharply a few times until agreements were made, and Wallace sat back in his seat to look out the window.
It was early afternoon in Tokyo. Countless buildings below reflected the light of the sun off their respective rooftops, giving the illusion of a sea of daytime stars. It was a sight that brought an even brighter smile to his lips as the last remnants of dreams faded, allowing far more pleasant thoughts to fill his mind.
"I wonder if Miyako and Hikari will remember me?"
o
o
Inoue Miyako paused mid-sentence to sneeze.
"...uh-oh. We've been found out." To her right, Motomiya Daisuke gave an exaggerated grimace at the phone screen. It lasted less than a second before melting into a more sly grin as he risked a glance out of the corner of his eye. "She knows we're talking about her."
"Funny."
Miyako pretended to glare at her friend for a solid two seconds before getting up. She didn't want to risk getting the blanket between them dirty, even if they were still wearing indoor shoes, so she took just enough care to walk along the outer edge before unceremoniously plopping herself directly next to Daisuke. Making certain to invade his personal space as much as physics allowed.
It had an added advantage of giving her full view of the boy on the other side of the screen: "Besides, I know you only ever have great things to say about me. Right, Ken-kun?"
"Ah...right, Miyako-san." Ken laughed nervously at the thought of getting caught between them, hand rising to the back of his head.
"Speak for yourself," Daisuke muttered darkly.
The girl was so close to him now, he had to place a hand to the ground to maintain balance from leaning away. When he showed signs of complaining, however, she promptly ignored him and put on an even brighter smile for the camera.
But not before giving the back of his head a light whack.
"Ow! The hell?!"
Across the city, Ichijouji Ken hid the laughter at his two friends behind one hand. Three years had come and gone in the time he'd gotten to know them, and since then, nothing had changed. Almost. They were all in middle school now, and though their uniform designs bore a number of similarities, the respective emblems denoting two very different places of learning served as one more reminded how far away he still resided.
Most of the time, it didn't bother him. He had very few friends at his own school—they were more like friendly acquaintances, at best—and so the majority of his afternoons were spent in Odaiba anyway. And ever since Daisuke's mom had given him a new video chat-enabled phone, they were able to talk during shared lunch breaks as well.
"Will you move over? Your head's in my way."
"It's my phone!"
Then again, there were times when he was thankful for the safety of distance between them.
"Are you ready for school festival week?" Miyako was asking.
Within the last several seconds, it seemed she and Daisuke had finally come to a truce. She got to lean heavily on his shoulders to keep up with the conversation, chin resting awkwardly on his shoulder, and he no longer had to hear her whining about not being able to see. A win-win all around, obviously.
"I suppose." Ken nodded. "Our homeroom voted on the tea cafe, but the class treasure's older sister studied tea ceremonies when she was in school and is helping us with some of the blends. There really isn't much else for us to do but set up on Monday and serve."
"Ah, that sound so cool!" Miyako exclaimed.
But Daisuke frowned. "It sucks that everyone does it all at the same time. I'm practically tied to my soccer club's noodle cart the whole week."
"Weren't you the one who suggested the noodle cart?" Miyako side-eyed him.
"All the more reason I have to be there!" He looked offended she would think otherwise. "It's my recipe, and without me, they could completely mess it up. My noodle reputation would be forever ruined!"
Sensing another rising argument between the pair, Ken cut in: "Ah...I'm sure I'll still have plenty of time to stop by your noodle cart, Daisuke-san."
"Maybe we can all meet up and go together," Miyako suggested. "Noodle boy over here might be too busy, but the rest of us should have time. Right, Hikari-chan?"
Silence.
"...Hikari-chan?"
When the remaining member of their lunch party didn't answer, Miyako lifted her head.
Yagami Hikari sat on the edge of the school rooftop several meters from their blanket, back resting against the safety fence. Unmoving, save for the occasional gust of wind teasing her long bangs. Her head was turned, eyes focusing on something on the ground below. To many, her expression seemed blank. Passively neutral.
Miyako knew better; rising to her feet—and nearly pushing Daisuke down from the force of movement—she marched herself right over to Hikari's side before following her line of sight.
Takaishi Takeru's golden hair stood out in the middle of the school courtyard. He was surrounded by about five girls. Underclassman, mostly, though Miyako recognized at least one of them as a third year. His smile was bright and cordial as he addressed each of them in turn. Their eyes had stars in them. The longer he spoke, the brighter those stars shone, until two of them look to one another in delight while the remaining three gave a mixture of cheers and delighted squeals.
Miyako's brows furrowed. She wasn't sure what to make of the sight. Or how to react, especially with Hikari sitting beside her.
"He...seems to be getting more and more popular lately." Her words were cautious. Chosen deliberately and with care. Awaiting the inevitable reaction, and prepared to step in as comfort to her best (female) friend.
Hikari didn't flinch.
What she did do was reach for the mobile phone in her pocket. A flip model, unlike Daisuke's, but sufficient for what she had to do next. Pulling up the text message option, she quickly typed in a succession of characters and hit send.
Her attention returned to the ground below.
So did Miyako's.
Takeru reached for his mobile phone. A mode similar to Hikari's, he too had to flip it open in order to read something on the screen. His eyes scanned the message in less than a second before he lifted his head towards them both. And pouted.
Hikari bit back a wave of giggles, and it was then Miyako was able to catch a glimpse of what she'd written on her screen:
How many tickets did you promise them this time?
"...ah!" The gears were turning, and as realization slowly dawned on her. "That's right. Tickets for Yamato-san's concert have been sold out for weeks, haven't they? Takeru-kun must be the only one left who can still get tickets."
She sat back, feeling more relieved than the situation probably required. Takeru had an overwhelmingly positive reputation around their school. He was athletic and lean, friendly and gentle, and oozed charm. But, somehow, he had yet to get in trouble for it, always knowing exactly where to draw the line. Which was fine with Miyako, if it meant holding off on having to scream at him on Hikari's behalf for another day.
Even if Hikari, herself, never seemed to mind.
Her phone was buzzing. Miyako leaned over to catch a glimpse of the receiving message:
Are you implying they only like me for my industry connections?
"One each, then," Hikari murmured humorously, biting her lower lip as she set to work sending her best friend another message.
The girl surrounding him were walking away, chatting excitedly amongst themselves. Takeru hardly noticed; even from a distance, it was clear that Hikari had the whole of his attention the way he cradled the small electronic device in his hands. Another buzz, and his eyes lit up in amusement at her latest message.
He started typing his next response.
Hikari's phone buzzed again.
-followed by the sound of her phone slamming shut. Hikari gave a sharp gasp, and by the time Miyako turned back around, she looked as taken aback as Miyako had ever seen her.
"What did he say?!" She just had to know!
"Nothing." The response came a little too quickly. Hikari made a point of tucking the phone in her back pocket, purposely ignoring a follow-up message buzzing in her uniform skirt. This gave her enough time to steady herself as she turned back to Miyako with an overly exaggerated smile. "He's heading up here now. Unfortunately, his new girlfriends won't be joining us."
Miyako stared at her incredulously. "I really don't get you two."
"What do you mean?" Hikari asked innocently, averting her eyes as she moved to stand.
"You know what I mean," she huffed back. Why did it feel like every person in her life was conspiring to make things unnecessarily difficult? "Neither of you are fooling—Hikari-chan!"
The girl in question had barely risen to her feet before stumbling back into the fence. Miyako and Daisuke both rushed to her side, the latter nearly dropping his phone in the process. A concerned Ken could he heard coming through the speakers, asking what was happening.
Blinking several times to clear her vision, Hikari rose a hand to her head. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly before opening them once more. Her shoulders relaxed, and she looked to Miayko sheepishly.
"I'm alright. Just a little vertigo. That's all."
Neither of them looked convinced.
Still, she made a deliberate show of pulling back and proceeding to brush the remaining dust from her uniform skirt. Her movements were swift and at ease and showing no further signs of fatigue or injury, and in time, seemed to appease the suspicious pair. It was then that something in the distance caught her eye, and she looked up to see one of the larger international flights passing high above, through a mostly cloudless sky.
"Do you think that's Mimi-san's flight?" Miyako questioned, hands clasped excitedly together as she too caught sight of the plane.
It was Ken who answered: "I was told she wasn't due to arrive until Friday."
"Oh. Right."
Dejected, Miayko returned to her previous seat on the blanket, this time taking charge of Daisuke's phone as she brushed back her hair and lapsed into conversation about computer club. All other topics of conversation either since forgotten or pushed to the back of her mind to make room for her latest train of thought.
The sound of her voice faded into the air as Hikari lingered back. Eyes continuing to follow the glint of silver in the distance. Watching it fade away as it headed for Tokyo International. There was nothing extraordinary about it. No reason to suspect it was anything other than one more flight that wasn't bringing Mimi back to them just yet.
But...all the same...Hikari couldn't shake the feeling it was carrying something important.