I know, I know. I wasn't expecting to update so soon either. There's just something about typing out shorter chapters that makes it easier to type out snippets throughout the week and then do final edits on the weekend. I can't guarantee this will be a regular occurrence, especially once concert season begins, but...I can only Hope.
o
As I stated in the prologue chapter, there will be a LOT of changes from the original series. Shadows of familiarity are woven in between an altering of timelines, all of which are deliberate, with elements of some scenes appearing in an entirely different context. Certain characters (*coughMeikocough*) will be replaced by others, and yes, I have much bigger plans for the 02 cast. I swear I have something resembling a plan ahead, but as tends to happen, there is every expectation that this story will continue to grow and evolve with each new update.
In addition, I have several twists and surprises set in store. Some have already been foreshadowed, some will be hinted at in this chapter, and there are many more clues to come.
During my Teen Titans era, I had an ongoing game with a group of fellow authors by having them guess what I was trying to do. It was always fun on all sides to see who came close, and how each individual interpreted what I wrote. Or what little easter eggs they spotted along the way. Similarly, if there are any current readers who want to attempt something similar now...well, obviously, I don't want to give it all away from the start, but I still encourage you to try.
o
DIGIMON TRI: BALANCE
o
"It's quiet this afternoon, don't you think?"
Sitting atop one of the amp speakers, one leg bent at the knee and supporting the weight of his arm, Yamato turned his head away from the window. The view from the practice room was pathetic on a good day, but he'd almost managed to catch a glimpse of cloud in the sliver of sky visible. His attention soon focused on the room's sole other occupant, and he waited a few seconds to see if Takeru would elaborate on his statement.
He didn't.
"That's ironic, coming from the person playing guitar." He smirked behind the rim of his soda can. "Curl your wrist a little more. Otherwise, you won't be able to position your fingers for the third chord."
Takeru smiled brightly at the advise, unfazed by the thought of error, and set to work fixing his posture. A slight shift in the seat, and he nodded to himself before trying again. His fingers where nowhere near as the comfort levels of his brother when holding the stringed instrument, but enough time spent fiddling had gotten him to the point where he could feign confidence in a grand total of three chords. Maybe four, if he could figure out the proper angle to bend his fingers.
For once, it was just the two of them. A peaceful lull in between afternoon band practice—the other members already having gone home for the day—and time during which the brothers would have to part ways. Both their parents were scheduled for late work nights; Takaishi Natsuko was finishing a last-minute editorial for the weekend edition, while Ishida Hiroaki was, coincidentally, hammering out details for Yamato's upcoming concert broadcast. The show was in less than two weeks' time, and with a primetime slot guaranteed for a live airing, he insisted that everything be perfect.
Of course, it wasn't like Takeru and Yamato ever needed an excuse to spend time together. Just...well...it was all the easier to justify when they knew they'd only be returning to empty apartments.
"It feels awkward," Takeru admitted after a moment, pausing long enough to shake out the threat of a cramp in his hand.
"Only because you're not used to the grip. In time, it'll become like second nature."
Without the amplifier, Takeru's subsequent strumming came out in dull, muted sounds, but Yamato listened close enough that it didn't matter. Each chord was awkward and stiff, lacking the reverberations of experience, but were otherwise correct. A fleeting wave of pride washed over him at being able to teach Takeru something successfully. He still wasn't sure when exactly his little brother had taken an interest in music, or why he suddenly wanted to learn to play the guitar. The skeptic in him suspected Takeru was up to something. The rationalist hiding behind told him there was only so much trouble the boy could get into with that kind of skill.
Then again...
"You said you needed five extra tickets, right?" Straightening, Yamato pushed himself up from his makeshift seat and towards a small desk in the corner of the room. Resting atop was a small envelope. He picked it up and began flicking through the slips of paper inside. "General admission or VIP?"
"General is fine. I don't think they mind so much where they get to sit, as long as the seats are better than the ones they were able to get originally."
Nodding at the reasoning, Yamato counted out five tickets from the envelope, pulling them out to check they were the proper type, before replacing the envelope and heading back over. Concert sales had already exceeded the last show, to the point where he didn't bat an eyelash at his brother suddenly asking for extra seats. Members of the band had a few dozen to spare, and once he took into account certain VIPs he'd already invited—present company obviously included—there was enough of an excess to fulfill Takeru's request.
"I am a little surprised, admittedly." As he passed the tickets over, he took care to watch the younger boy's reaction as he stated: "Five cute girls come up to you at lunch, and none of them end up VIPs for the weekend?"
If Takeru was surprised by his knowledge, he didn't let it show. "Who told you that? Daisuke-kun or Miyako-san?"
"Hikari-chan, actually." The corners of his lips twitched upward and he folded his arms across his chest. "I saw her yesterday afternoon to drop off her ticket."
"She's coming too?"
Success; even Takeru couldn't hide the look of honest surprise at the news, momentary dropping his cool facade entirely. His eyes widened in a very telling manner, to the point where Yamato had to bite back the threat of a laugh.
Channeling his young brother's acting skills, he bore a mask of neutrality, his voice coming out in a similarly passive tone: "You didn't know? I thought you two were supposed to be best friends."
"We are." Any hints of pleasure were soon marred by confusion, however. "But I thought she was supposed to go to Taichi-san's soccer match that day."
This much, in Takeru's defense, had been true. She'd mentioned the conflict to him a few days prior, during one of their semi-regular habits of walking one another home from school. On days when neither of them had after school clubs or other obligations. It was all too easy to fall into step with one another, walking along at a leisure pace as they caught up on all the things they no longer shared, now that they were in separate homerooms. Sometimes they talked about nothing at all, and were amazed at how quickly the time together flew regardless.
Miyako used to join them, since she and Takeru lived in the same building, but lately seemed more interested in precisely the opposite direction. The fact that said path took her to a park in between their and Ken's schools was more than mere coincidence.
"She still is," Yamato confirmed. "But she said she could make the times work out if she planned accordingly. Sora was worried about the same thing, so I told Hikari-chan to get in touch with her to help with that."
Too late did Yamato realize he'd left himself open; a mischievous glint in Takeru's eye appeared, and through his own joy at the latest news, he shook his head. "You're not going to help her yourself? That's no good, Aniki..."
"I-I'll be busy that day!" Yamato balked, brows furrowing in annoyance. A cough, to conceal his momentary lapse in composure, followed. "There's last minute practices and set-up and...wait, we're supposed to be talking about you and Hikari-chan!"
"We were?" Takeru's tone was far too innocent for Yamato's liking. "Why?"
"You know why."
"Not really." The facade was fully back now. Continuing to feign a passive ignorance, Takeru returned his attention to the guitar. He repositioned his hands in a much more appropriate manner, and the series of chords that followed were precise and crisp. "...but if it bothers you that much, Aniki," he glanced upward, smile unfading, "You know you're still the one I love most, right?"
Yamato's cheeks flushed a bright red, and he closed his eyes and turned away. Waving a dismissive hand in the air, his voice betrayed the frustration at his brother's ongoing 'joke' once again successful in its intention: to distract.
"Don't you start with that again."
Takeru chuckled softly at his brother's response. Exactly as he'd expected.
o
o
Taichi let out a sigh of exasperation.
"Seriously? There's no way you can all be that tired so quickly."
His only response was a chorus of moans. Several of which came muffled from the teammates face-planted into the grassy field.
Hands on hips, the seventeen-year-old captain narrowed his eyes as he stared down each and every boy. Most of them were wise enough to avoid visual contact. One of them looked half asleep. Another looked half-dead, face and part of his practice jersey drenched in sweat. Combined with the audible gasps of breath and defeated postures, and Taichi was forced to admit that he may have been the only one on the team with any decent stamina.
"Fine," He relented, head bowing in defeat. "We'll take a break. Five minutes."
More moans.
"...ten, then."
Unwilling to negotiate further, he headed over to the sidelines, where his bag lay half open. There was a towel sticking out of the main zipper, and he wrapped it around his neck before reaching for a bottle of water. The liquid was still cool enough to be considered refreshing, and once he'd chugged a good third of it, he plopped down on the grass, reaching for his cell phone and laying flat on his back. A few wisps of clouds passed by overhead before the view was obscured by the screen.
There were five missed calls, all originating from the same caller.
Before he had a chance to call back, however, his phone began to ring again. This time, it was Koushiro's number. On the second ring, he accepted the call, placing it to his ear.
"Hello?"
But it wasn't Koushiro on the other end: "I knew it! You are avoiding me again!"
Taichi shot up in his seat at the sound of Sora's voice, visibly recoiling from her tone. Looking like the child with his hand caught in the proverbial cookie jar, he winced for about two seconds before a certain realization dawned on him, and he pulled the phone back long enough to stare at it suspiciously.
"Why do you have Koushiro's phone?"
"We're on a date," came the reply. Flat and dry.
Behind her, Taichi heard the sounds of a certain auburn-haired high schooler sputtering. Muffled protests followed, and if Sora's tone weren't enough evidence she wasn't serious, Koushiro's reaction cemented the notion in his mind.
He snorted. "Yeah, right."
A pause. Koushiro's voice came through a bit clearer now that it was no longer panicking: "I'm not sure I should feel relieved or a little insulted he doesn't believe you."
"So what's this about, anyway?" Resigning himself to whatever impending fate the universe had in store for him, Taichi lay back down and threw his free arm over his eyes. "You're not gonna yell at me because of Yamato again, are you?"
"Why? Are you two fighting again?"
"No. Not really. Not unless you count my pointing out his horrific lack of taste when it comes to quality ramen seasoning."
He was fairly certain he heard a slight giggle on Sora's end, but wisely chose not to comment. Still, it was a good sign she was relaxing—an opinion he also decided to keep to himself for the moment.
"I wanted to double-check with you about this Friday evening."
"Why? What's Friday?"
"Tai. Chi." She deliberately emphasized each syllable in his name in such a way he couldn't help smile. Sora only ever did that when he really annoyed her. Intentionally or otherwise. "Don't tell me you forget already. We've been planning to meet Mimi-chan at the airport for weeks now!"
"Oh. That." He waved a hand in the air, even though they were on a voice call and she wouldn't be able to see. "I'll be there. Hikari will make sure of it. You know that already, Sora. You really didn't have to call me six times during practice."
The pause on her end was much longer this time. Telling. When she finally spoke again, Taichi could hear her sheepishness: "...you're at soccer practice?"
"Well, yeah. Why else wouldn't I pick up? I can't exactly answer my phone when I'm on the field."
"Right. I knew that."
It wasn't often he managed to get a leg up on Sora. Normally, the teen was so on top of everyone's schedule, she could have recited Hikari's after school clubs, Jou's exam dates, and every sale Mimi was anticipating. Either she was having an off day, or else there was something more behind it.
For half a second, Taichi even considered questioning her on it before deciding that was probably a conversation better suited for Hikari.
"Anything else?" he asked instead.
"Not so long as you promise you'll be there. On time."
"Yeah, yeah. If it makes you feel better, I'll even show up early."
This time, Sora did laugh, and Taichi felt himself relaxing at the sound. As fun (and rare) as it was to have the upper hand, he always preferred Sora when she was at her best. Happy and confident. Even if it came at his expense: "I'll believe it when I see it."
Snorting, Taichi said his goodbyes there and then before hanging up. When he caught his reflection in the metallic surface, he realized he was still smiling.
A faint gust of wind blew across the field, cooling his skin. Taichi closed his eyes for a moment, blocking out the ongoing complaints in the distance. The hand with the phone fell to his side. His shoulders slumped. He repositioned himself to lay back down again, moving to adjust the towel around his neck into a makeshift pillow.
Footsteps approached. From the opposite direction of the soccer field.
Peeking one eye open, he was surprised to find an upside-down image of his little sister bending over him.
"Hikari?" Confused, he sat up once more and turned to face her. "What are you doing here?"
Wordlessly, she revealed a small package hidden behind her back. It was the bento box their mother made for him that morning specifically for that day's practice. Taichi was remiss to admit he'd forgotten about it completely until that moment.
"And just what is this good deed of yours going to cost me?" He held back a smile as she placed the box on the ground beside him, already knowing what she would say.
"A super-sized cone of the latest choco-cherry swirl from the convenience store."
One of the rare times in which Hikari was completely predictable. Be it a bribe or reward. Her growing sweet tooth was an open secret among their most inner circle of friends, and yet absolutely none of them could bring themselves to tease her about it. Especially not the older children. Especially since she never seemed to gain an ounce in spite of the quantity.
Taichi made a point of sighing audibly, feigning annoyance at the request. Even though he knew he would have gotten it for her regardless. Such a relatively simple request coming from that face? It was almost impossible to say 'no'.
And the worst part of it all was that Hikari probably knew that too.
"Deal."
Her expression brightened, and Taichi couldn't bring himself to care that he was a total pushover.
"Oi! Hikari-chan"
The siblings turned at the sound of her name. Much to Taichi's chagrin, the entire team was suddenly up and about. Several of them were doing leg stretches on the ground. Others were racing jumping jacks, while the rest were simply quick-stretching their arms at a pace too rapid to actually be productive.
His eyes narrowed. "I thought you guys were too tired to move."
"Don't be ridiculous!" The boy in the middle called back. He smiled so brightly the sun seemed to shine off his pearly whites. "We're all here to do our best always. Right, Hikari-chan?"
The younger Yagami blinked twice before offering a faint smile in return: "Right!"
A wave of laughter and other exclamation of glee at her reaction followed, and Taichi's shoulders slumped for an entirely new reason. Raising a hand to his forehead, he massaged the threat of an oncoming headache with the tips of his fingers as he muttered a few choice words under his breath.
"I'm not sure whether to ask you to stop by practice more often or tell them you have a boyfriend and get it over with."
"I don't have a boyfriend," she pointed out.
"They don't have to know that."
"Oniichan..."
Ignoring her disapproving tone, Taichi finally moved to stand. His armed reached up and over his head, neck cranking from one side to the other in attempt to alleviate the knots. The gestures were rewarded with a few satisfying pops. He inhaled deeply once and let out a slow, audible exhale before turning back to Hikari.
She was already reaching for her phone, checking a new incoming message.
"I have to go. Miyako-san and I are supposed to meet up at the mall, and she's just about to leave the park with Ken-san." The latter news didn't seem to surprise her in the least, despite the fact that he was not part of the original plan: "I promised to help her find a new dress for this weekend."
"You'll still be home for dinner, thought, right? Or were you three going out to eat?"
She shook her head, tucking her phone back in her pocket. "No, I'll be home. You?"
"Same." He reached out to lightly ruffle her hair. "See you then. And thanks for bringing my lunch."
Some girls might have taken offense to such a thing, but Hikari always took the gesture in stride. Waiting until he was done to fix the short strands, smoothing the sides back down and brushing the stray bangs from her eyes. When she was satisfied with the result, she backed away with one last wave before heading to the entrance field. Her bike was resting against a bench.
Taichi took the time to watch her head off, waiting until she was out of sight before heading back to the rest of his team. Most of whom looked noticeably more dejected than they had a moment prior.
"Man, Taichi," The one holding the soccer ball called out to him. "You're so lucky to have such a cute sister!"
In response, he stormed right past the lot of them, forcefully grabbing the soccer ball along the way: "There are so many things wrong with that statement, I won't even dignify it with a proper answer. Now get back out here, so we can finish practice."
The command was met with a series of regretful groans.
o
o
High above the Tokyo skyline, a cluster of clouds drifted aimlessly.
Until they began to slow.
Then change direction.
A gradual swirling of air as they danced around one another. Increasing in speed until seemingly merging with one another just long enough to form a distinct eye in the center.
Lightning crackled. But no thunder crashed.
Then, the air itself warped. Twisting and bending until a rift appeared.
And thought that rift, a lone figured emerged. Dropping down several meters, coming to a low crouch atop one of the buildings. Far above the eye of any casual onlooker. The clouds above continued to swirl for several seconds longer, dark sparks emitting from the phenomenon, before dissipating into a peaceful blue sky. All in the span of a few seconds.
Below, not a soul seemed to notice.
The figure stood. Clothed in a thick robe made of a pale material lined with brown, and secured by a dark brown belt. Steady on his feet, he straightened just enough to survey the area from beneath a large hood. Brushing a few strands of brown hair from the edge of his forehead, he barely pulled away when a small beeping noise emitted from the earpiece.
"Are you there? Can you hear me?"
A voice. Slightly distorted. Female.
Lips twitched upward. Two fingers were placed to his ear, steady the communicator bud to maximize audio.
"Careful. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were worried about me."
"I'm worried about the mission," came the reply without missing a beat. Notably defensive. "Communication would have been that much harder if the worlds were out of synch again."
"Fortunately, that doesn't seem to be the case."
"Something had to go right eventually. What do you see?"
There was enough of a pause to contemplate the question. And whether or not he should give an honest response.
"A beautiful, late afternoon skyline. Picturesque, really. You should see it this—maybe I'll bring you with me next jump."
"...I'm hanging up now."
"No, you won't."
Silence followed. Long enough that he actually began to suspect his current partner had followed through with her threat. But then...behind the silence, there was movement. A slight rustling of fabric as she was no doubt folding her arms across her chest and leaning back in the chair. He could picture it in his mind's eye as clear as if she were in front of him. The way her lips turned downward. Eyes boring into him with the intensity of a laser. Cold and disapproving to most. Secretly reveling in the attention to him alone; he wouldn't have persisted this long if he even suspected otherwise.
Deep down, he knew such thoughts were trivial. Unimportant in the grand scheme of things. And yet...they brought a comforting smile to his lips all the same.
"I'm not seeing any signs of distortion. Yet." He lifted his arm, brushing back the cloak sleeves to reveal a small computerized wrist watch. Only the numbers blinking back at him weren't the current time. A few taps to adjust the settings, and he nodded in affirmation at the data. "No detection within a seven kilometer radius. It's entirely possible..."
Something caught his eye. A flash out of his right corner. High in the sky, less than a kilometer from his current location.
"What is it?"
Easy as it would have been to call her bluff then, the concern in her tone was matched by his own quickening heartbeat. He was just thankful they weren't monitoring his vitals that closely.
"Forget what I said before. Looks like I made it here just in time."
o
o
The signal to cross turned green.
Hikari took a single step off the sidewalk before a sudden chill down her spine stopped her cold. Around her, the street population remained oblivious. Most ignoring the young teen frozen in place, staring blankly at the crosswalk stripes as her mind desperately tried to catch up with what her body was telling her.
Her phone rang. She reached for it, glancing just long enough at the screen to see Miyako's name.
"Miyako-san?"
Distorted sounds came through the receiver. A low crackling. Like static.
"Miyako-san, can you hear me?"
For a split second, she could have sworn her friend's voice was coming through the other end. Shouting, but at a volume too soft for her to make out the proper words.
Then the line went dead.
Gusts of wind began to pick up. Leaves on the ground swirled to life, rising up higher and higher into the air. Hikari followed them closely, neck cranking to get a better view.
In the distance, someone's scream echoed off the adjacent buildings.
A flicker. A trick of the eye at first, maybe, except it happened again seconds later. And again. Over and over at an increasing frequency. The sky waving and rippling like the surface of a disrupted pond until...it opened, revealing a giant bird-like creature.
Hikari dropped her bike in shock: "Parrotmon!"
Chaos erupted, but for Hikari, it was as if the world around her slowed to a crawl. People fled. Cars drove erratically on the street, honking in vein hopes of clearing a path to escape. All of them fearing the monster which had just inexplicably appeared in the sky. A monster reminiscent of those that had once terrorized their fair city years before.
Above, the wild digimon screeched and fluttered. Every flap of its massive wings send strong gusts of wind to the streets below. Strong enough that Hikari had to brace herself to keep from falling.
In the midst of it all, a second distortion appeared. Bending and warping in a manner not unlike the first, except the creature that emerged this time was unlike any digimon she had ever seen before. From that distance, it was difficult to discern little more than a dark silhouette, but she was fairly certain it was humanoid in shape. A muscle body. Dark in color. A horned helmet not unlike that of Greymon. Shapes reminiscent of wings protruding from its body. Broken wings.
The new creature let out a fierce roar before slamming its body directly into Parrotmon, the resultant collision sending them both flying through the air.
o
o
Sora held up one scarf in both hands. Each bearing a similar, yet still distinctly different design. One was a lavender color, interwoven with a deeper purple, with a braided pattern border and snowy wintery scene embroidered on the front. The other was more peachy, with various shades of pink and brown, and the scene depicted was of a cherry blossom field.
"Either of these would be lovely on her," Smiling at the options, she glanced back towards Koushiro. "You said you got your father a tie, correct?"
The younger boy shuffled awkwardly in place before nodding. Clearly uncertain by the decision. "Is...that alright?"
"Actually, it works out better than you think," she reassured him with a nod. "If you go with the scarf for your mother, then it'll be like the gifts match. Which would work perfectly for anniversary gifts."
Her words seemed to ease some of his worry...until the ground beneath them both shook, nearly sending him to the ground. Sora's reflexes saved her, and she instinctively planted both feet to steady herself.
"...an earthquake?" she questioned, glancing around the department store. Most of the other customers seemed to be of a similar mind, and questioned only whether it would be necessary to seek shelter.
Less than a second later, however, screams erupted from just outside, and they turned to find a large crowd of people rushing passed the store windows. Frantic with panic.
Koushiro met her gaze and shook his head.
"No. Trouble."
o
o
Takeru's head shot up when the ground shook. Then towards the window when he heard the distant sound of screams. A tightness was forming in the pit of his stomach already.
Turning to his brother, the two of them nodded in unison before moving to head out.
Yamato reached for his cell phone.
o
o
Jou could only stare in silent horror at the sight.
"...how could this be?" His hands trembled, clutching the papers in his hand tight enough to wrinkle the edges. It took several seconds for him to calm himself down enough to gently replace them back on his bedroom desk. "I thought I'd studied hard enough this time. How did I still score so low?"
Behind him, the sight of two wild digimon engaged in battle filled his window. But he had already buried his head in his arms, voice coming out in defeated, muffled tones:
"This day could not get any worse."
o
o
With one kick, Taichi scored a clean shot into the net.
"Yes!"
He pumped a fist into the air, only to lower it when he realized the appointed goalie didn't even seem to notice. Nor did any one else for that matter. Frowning, he glanced around to confirm that there wasn't a single person on the field who was paying him any attention. Their eyes were instead glued to something else in the far distance.
Following their gazes, Taichi saw smoke. Coming from the same area he remembered Hikari had been heading towards.
His face paled. Practice was forgotten immediately as his body moved of its own accord, taking off at a dash's pace.
o
o
Everything happened too fast for Hikari to react.
Shattering of glass. Twisting of metal. Smoke erupting from the point of impact. Inhumane twin roars of pain and madness. There was something about the fight unfolding. More than echoes of a memory. It held her captive. Frozen in place, staring up with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. Her breathing synched with her heartbeat. Mesmerized to the point of hypnosis.
It dulled her senses to the point where she didn't recognize the danger until it was too late.
Parrotmon attempted to swipe at its opponent, giant claws going in for a slash. But the other digimon was too fast, and all that was struck was a large corner of the skyscraper. Enough to send a large chunk hurling directly at the ground. Exactly where Hikari was standing.
Her breath caught in her throat.
The blood pounded in her ears.
She opened her mouth to scream-
A sudden force knocked her to one side, enveloping her in a warm, tight embrace as they rolled away to the safety of a small alleyway. Seconds later, she heard the distinct crash of impact. Fabric brushed across her skin, and when she tried to breath again, she caught a lung full of dust. Wheezing gasps followed. She coughed twice. Legs shaking as the weight covering her was lifted, giving her the chance to look up.
Through blurred vision, she saw what appeared to be a white hood with hints of spiky brown hair sticking out from beneath it. And a smile that, in any other circumstances, one might describe as charming.
"...you..." the resemblance was strong. Incredibly strong. Enough that she knew she could not rely on her eyes alone, closing her mouth and swallowing once as she let her instincts guide her next words: "...you're not Gennai."
Her ears were ringing, but she was fairly certain she heard the young man chuckle. "No. I'm not."
"Then who are you?"
"A friend."
The sounds of battle drew their attention back to the present. The hooded figure turned back, and the smile was replaced by a deep frown.
"Stay here, Hikari-san. Wait for your brother. No doubt he's already on his way."
Her jaw dropped. "How did you know-?"
But the figure was already up and running off, leaving her to stare after him. Wondering not only who he was or where he'd come from...but how he'd known her name.
o
o
Half a dozen computer monitors blinked in unison. All of them signaling precisely one thing: danger.
In the center was the most prominent screen. The one everyone kept an eye on, regardless of their actual assignment. It was there the images of thirteen children were on full display. Names, dates of birth, and—in certain cases—noted relations. Eight of them were larger than the others, displayed across the top in a single line. Below, and to the right, were four additional pictures. The remaining thirteenth was isolated to the opposite corner.
Data scrolled along the bottom at a pace too quick for most to decipher, but for the young woman sitting in the middle, there was no need. Her fingers were already gripping the arm rests tight enough to turn her knuckles white despite her otherwise calm exterior. She knew what it meant.
So did the man standing directly behind her. Who paused just long enough to take a long drag of his cigarette, exhaling with a nod towards their shared reflection in the screen.
"It's begun."