**SPECIAL AUTHOR'S NOTE: A comment in the review section asked about Maki and Daigo's ages, to which I can only respond… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
According to my research, the Original-Original Chosen might have been about eleven years old in 1995, when their fight against Piemon took place (which COINCIDENTALLY is also the same year as Hikarigaoka. I see you, TRI writers). With TRI taking place in 2005, that would put Maki and Daigo at all of 21. I think. However, Balance purposelydisplaces this encounter all the way back to 1991, which would age them up to about mid to late 20s. Which, given Maki's status with the Agency and Daigo's school placement, makes a little more sense to me.
NOW THAT THAT'S BEEN SETTLED (somewhat)...I shall now interrupt your irregularly scheduled Adventure updates to do a little World Building; I openly admit a fondness for Season 3, and with TRI containing so many Tamers parallels, the opportunity for a solid crossover was too good to resist. I'll also be borrowing a bit of influence from Brave Tamer, though I promise you won't have had to play the game to understand. (I've never actually played the game, either.)
o
o
DIGIMON TRI: BALANCE
o
A gust of wind blew through a windowless room. It smelled of grass and earth. Screens lining the walls began to flicker. A glass of water vibrated as it hit resonant frequency. Fluorescent bulbs surged and dimmed at the frequency of a rapid pulse.
Not unlike the increased heartrates of everyone left to pay witness.
In the center of it all, the growing portal continued to swirl around itself. Stabilized in all three triangulation points, it would have been easy to equate it to the eye of a hurricane in its serenity. Until the first ripples appeared. Like water flowering over a mirrored surface.
First, came the familiar. Ryo and Cyber—no, the moment the fearsome digimon touched their reality's surface, he devolved back into Monodramon (much to the relief of several technicians). Ryo stood tall and proud and allowed himself a moment to revel in his return, reaching up to stretch both arms over his head. The Legendary Tamer then needed only glance at his now Child partner to garner his attention, and together, they shared a nod before stepping to one side. And waited.
Two more ripples appeared. Two new figured emerged.
Ken's entrance was a bit less dignified, stumbling forward before coming to rest both hands on his knees. His breathing was labored and he had to close his eyes to suppress an oncoming wave of vertigo. Miyako didn't fare much better, almost immediately collapsing to her knees with her head bowed.
"Ugh. I think...I'm going to be sick…."
Ryo winced sympathetically, scratching at the back of his neck. "Sorry. I forgot how disorienting it can be the first time. You get used to it after a while."
Neither of them found that very reassuring.
Ken swallowed a rising lump in his throat, which was dry and scratchy. He tried to remember if he'd been this thirsty a few moments earlier. Was it the berries Miyako had foraged for them? They'd been sweet and juicy and she'd been certain they were safe to eat, but maybe interdenominational travel was like swimming. Better to wait fifteen minutes before diving in.
"Here." A woman's voice spoke. "Take this."
There was something...vaguely familiar about it. Something his mind was still too caught up on digital berries to fully process. Rather than dwell on the thought, he took one last breath to steady himself before straightening.
And did an immediate double-take.
She was older, for certain. Late twenties. Maybe early thirties, with a fantastic skincare regime. Her hair was more on the reddish-brown side and her eyes were a mesmerizingly deep shade of blue. So there were some notable differences to take into account. But beyond that? Her features...her voice...for a second, Ken would have sworn he was looking at an older Miyako.
Otori Reika didn't give much thought to the younger boy's staring. Not at first. He was clearly in shock from an ordeal previously thought to be beyond reach to all but one. And almost certainly dealing with temporal-spacial displacement sickness. Poor thing.
She reached over, placing a glass as securely in both his hands as he seemed capable. "It's mostly ginger ale. I added a few drops of aromatic bitters to help with the..."
But she trailed off when the young girl beside him finally managed the strength to stand. Their eyes met, widened into mirroring expressions, and suddenly the boy's staring made sense.
"...oh..."
"Akiyama-san!"
A cry of delight rang through the air, and Ryo had only a split second to react before being attacked by a blur of brown and green. Deceptively strong arms threw themselves around his neck. He flinched, but only in surprise; their weight wasn't nearly enough to knock him over. Once his mind caught up, he recognized the subsequent fits of giggles as belonging to none other than one Katou Juri.
He felt himself relax. A smile appeared, and he gladly returned the hug.
"Careful, Juri." He teased the enthusiastic seventeen-year-old. "You're gonna end up making your boyfriend jealous."
She pulled back to meet his gaze, still giggling. "Never!" Lowering herself back down to ground level, she reached up to brush back some of the hair that had gone astray in all her excitement. "Besides, Takato-kun would have beaten me to it if he were here. He says patrols go so much smoother when you're out there with him, and he's missed you a ton."
It didn't take much for Ryo to imagine all the things that could have gone wrong in his stead. He spared his fellow Tamer a pitiful thought as he stepped away from Juri long enough to check the clock. It was an old analogue model—the better to minimize risk of digital interference—and so, even as he got 2:19 from its hands, he had no way of knowing whether that meant it was the middle of the afternoon, or late at night.
"Are they still out?"
"No." Juri shook her head. "They came back maybe half an hour after you called, but we had the portal up ten min—and there he goes..."
Ryo hadn't bothered to wait for her to finish. He was already halfway to the exit, and judging from that particular gleam in his eye, Juri knew it would be pointless trying to call him out on it now. His mind was elsewhere. His motives obvious. Hands resting on both hips, she could only shake her head as she watched him disappear down the corridor.
"If he's lucky, she'll be too tired to kill him properly."
Miyako glanced over at Ken in silent question. He shrugged, as lost in all this as she was.
"I highly doubt she'll ever be too tired for that."
A new voice. Male.
There was a palpable change throughout the room. With the exception of Reika and Juri, every last person tensed. A chorus of eyes turned to the doorway Ryo previously disappeared through, only to find a blonde man more than ten years his senior standing just inside the frame. Dark shades hid his eyes from view, further emphasizing his stoic features. Features that also looked familiar.
Then he removed the sunglasses, and though his eyes were also different, the resemblance grew that much stronger.
Miyako's jaw dropped. "Takeru-kun?!"
"Yamaki." The man appeared unfazed by the mistaken identity. Nor did he look to question it. "Yamaki Mitsuo. And you are…?"
"Extremely confused," Ken responded weakly.
"What he said." Miyako's shoulders slumped. She was starting to get a headache. "So who's your goggle-wearing soccer player, then?"
She'd meant it as a joke, but Juri immediately glanced over her shoulder with a look of amusement. "Actually, Takato-kun's an artist. He's really good. And I'm not just saying that because I'm biased...even though I definitely am." With that, she turned back just as Yamaki came up beside her, offering her superior an emphatic salute. "Sir!"
Only Reika would notice the subtle change in Yamaki's expression as he flickered his attention towards the young girl. It was an open secret (one of many) how he held a soft spot for her. Even more than the rest of the Tamers. Because she'd been through so much more, and somehow came out of it smiling that much brighter. Not to mention, unlike Hirokazu, her shows of respect were always genuine.
She was rewarded with a light bow of his head and a ghost of a smile before it was back to business.
"I imagine the two of you must have a lot of questions right now," he addressed the two newcomers.
They nodded.
"If we're lucky, we might be able to answer some of them. In due time. But first..." He turned to Reika. "Have you scanned them yet?"
"I thought I'd give them a minute to adjust. They're just kids."
"And in another dimension, that might actually mean something."
"...fine." (Was it Miyako's imagination, or did that sound a little curt? And...wait...did she just sigh in annoyance at her supposed boss?!) "The two of you, follow—oh, wait."
She'd taken a single step before doubling back. Fortunately, neither Ken nor Miyako had yet to even budge.
"You're not pregnant, are you?" She abruptly asked.
Miyako's face went redas Ken's soul momentarily left his body, leaving him a pale ghost of his former self.
"I'm fifteen!"
"I'll take that as a 'no'." Reika stated casually. As if she hadn't been defending their innocence seconds earlier. Her thoughts seemed strangely distant as she nodded to herself. "Good. Two of the scanners emit a bit of low level radiation. Fine for you and me. Bad for baby."
Never before had Miyako wished so badly for an inter-dimensional portal to rip open through the very fabric of space and time and swallow her whole. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. Ken was very pointedly not looking at her. She was going to die right there and then of utter mortification, but not before disowning her former alleged doppel—
One of the chairs stationed at the center console swiveled around to reveal a tiny, white creature. A digimon, perhaps, although neither Miyako nor Ken recognized it. Wearing a head-set much too large for its head to be effective, it smiled and wave before throwing its little paws into the air in excitement.
"Culumon!" Juri laughed, coming to a crouch in front of the seat to meet the digimon at eye level. "What are you doing?"
"I'm helping, Juri~culu!"
Biting back a laugh, she didn't have the heart to tell him the com system was currently turned off. "I'm sure you are."
The heat slowly faded from Miyako's cheeks as she watched the scene unfold. Little Culumon squirmed as if he were a human child rather than digimon Child, nuzzling his face into Juri's open hand while she gave him a scratch behind his ear. They were either partners, or else shared a similar form of human-digimon bond. One that reminded Miyako all too much of her dear Poromon.
Without realizing, her hand had reached for Ken's. She squeezed his fingers in search of support.
Consciously or otherwise, he squeezed back.
o
o
Ryo heard her voice before he even reached the common room entrance.
"For the last time, I told you not to listen to those broadcasts. Not only are they unsanctioned, most of the time, they're embarrassingly stupid."
And he knew at once who she was talking to. Because he knew her.
Her silhouette stood in the center of the far walled window, shadowed against an unusually cloudless night sky. Moonlight poured into the room, illuminating more than half of the two dozen rooms lined on either side. From where he stood, four were immediately visible. Only one was cracked open, remnants of steam drifting into the air. She was alone; the others were either dead to the world in sleep behind closed doors, or simply elsewhere.
Originally intended for HYPNOS staff in consolation for mandatory hours once required, the dormitory wing had long since become an unofficial home away from home for the Tamers. Somewhere to crash safely, away from prying paparazzi or spontaneous glitches (rogue digimon gone mad from a yet-unidentified viral infection). Over the last few years, personal effects were brought in. Not much. Clothing. Toiletries. Some sparring equipment from Jian and Xiaochun's family dojo. Takato apparently papered several quarters with artwork doodled in his few precious hours of spare time, and no one ever had the heart to take them down.
Similarly, understandings of privacy went unspoken between the eleven. No one dared enter the quarters of another, and they all knew perfectly well which belonged to whom. There were, of course, a few obvious exceptions. Siblings were constantly renegotiating terms of how often check-ins could be performed. Makoto and Ai also stillshared custody of their digimon partner, though Impmon more often than not preferred to go out at night. On a less familiar note, Takato and Juri were known to trade off sleeping arrangements to such a degree that they'd probably forgotten who was originally supposed to be where. It was a running joke among the rest of the group that typically left the boy in a stuttering, blushing mess.
Most of the others were content to remain in their self-imposed isolation—
"I wasn't with them! The idiots ran off to the West Sector without checking in. Alice and I spent most of the night chasing after them instead of herding glitches."
But she wasn't in her room then. Neither was he.
"Not many. Only two."
Her back was to him, staring out the window as she continued arguing over the phone. At fifty stories above ground level, the cityscape below looked as distant as the heavens above. Streetlights twinkled like stars. A backdrop of peace and quiet. No further signs of disturbances that night.
He stepped inside the room. Silent as the night.
She remained oblivious to his approach.
"I am not being unreasonable," she snapped into the phone before lifting her head. "I'm just—"
Her eyes refocused as a second face in the reflection appeared, and Makino Ruki darted around to find herself standing meters from (a very pleased looking) Ryo. She froze, lips parted in mid-word.
A few months back, she'd made a spontaneous decision to chop off most of her hair. He still remembered the day she'd spent half her lunch break trying to justify it to Juri. Chin-length bobs were far easier to manage, she'd insisted, and so much better to deal with when merged with her partner. Yet her fiery, auburn locks proved as stubborn as she at any length. Even then, they stuck up at every imaginable angle. Strewn across her forehead and cheeks. Wild and uncombed. And wet. Either it had rained recently, or else she'd just come from the shower.
"Ruki-chan? Are you there?" The voice of Makino Rumiko echoed from the cell speakers, cutting into their wordless reunion. "You better not have hung up on me, young lady."
She was staring at him, openly and blatantly. The look on her face was one he knew he would cherish for weeks to come. Stunned and utterly speechless from either the shock or awe. He liked to flatter himself into thinking it was the latter. That his sudden reappearance had left her in a state where words failed. That, no matter what Juri said, there were still some unpredictable qualities left in him.
"Ruki-chan!"
"...I'm here, 'kaa-san." Not only did she managed to reclaim her voice, but it remained as steady as if the person she'd been waiting for three weeks' time hadn't just up and magically appeared in front of her with that stupid smile filled with impossibly perfect teeth. "I'm not hanging up until I can get you to listen to reason."
"I'd like to think I'm the one being perfectly reasonable here."
"You would," Ruki muttered in such a dry tone, he had to chuckle.
By then, the situation had become clear to him. Rumiko had always been one of the more accepting and supportive of the Tamer parents. More than Juri's. Definitely more than Ryo's. Possibly even more than Jiangyu, despite the ex Wild Bunch member's unparalleled comprehension of all things digimon. But every mother had her limits, and not every mother had Ruki for a daughter.
There was only one solution to their impending stalemate: Ryo extended a hand for her phone.
Confusion. At first. Alternating between his hand and eyes. She couldn't decide if he was being serious. When she realized he was, she raised an eyebrow. The delay in reaction was such that, for a moment, Ryo was starting to think she would brush him off. Maybe even slap his hand away. But then, either out of curiosity or simply because his presence had thrown her that much off her game, she relented.
Grinning, he held up the receiver to his ear. "Hello, Rumiko-san."
"...ah! Ryo-kun! "Her change in tone was immediate. "Is that really you? Does that mean you're finally back! How wonderful!"
Ryo never did fully understand why Ruki's mother liked him so much. He certainty didn't mind, as it came with a number of advantages on his part. He just had no explanation. His perceived looks and/or charismatic charm might have had something to do with it, except he'd seen her on the road interacting with idol-level superstars. Makino Rumiko was not a woman to be taken in by outward appearances alone, despite what many thought of her. She was friendly and sweet and, yes, sometimes even a little flirty with those types...but he always swore there was an ever subtle change to her demeanor whenever they spoke.
For example, right then? She was definitely gushing.
"Does Ruki-chan know? No, wait. Don't answer. Of course she knows. You're on her cell." Laughter at her own mistake. "Is she still there with you, or did she run off to sulk again?"
As if to prove her point, Ruki glowered at the insinuation.
"She's still here," Ryo insisted, watching the girl in question's facial features with renewed interest.
There was a small mark on her lower jaw. Faint discoloration. The beginnings of a bruise starting to form. He hadn't noticed at first, but the longer he took her in, the more apparent it became. With his free hand, he curled a finger beneath her chin, tilting her head up ever so slightly. She didn't protest, and with the aid of the moon, he was able to get a proper look.
She'll need ice, with that much swelling.
"I hope you'll forgive me for interrupting." All he while, he maintained his casual tone with Rumiko. She was none the wiser. "It's just that I couldn't help overhearing the two of you earlier, and I thought it might help if you knew that yes, she's still standing in front of me right now...which is how I can say, in all truth, that's she's fine. There isn't a single scratch on her."
Ruki's brows both rose at his statement.
"I see. Well...that is a relief to hear." As he predicted, she didn't once consider second-guessing him. It was too easy. "Some of the latest outlets were reporting on the day's sightings, and they distinctly mentioned Sakuyamon taking a particularly nasty fall against that one bug...thing...oh, you know the one."
Off the top of his head, he didn't. He tried looking to Ruki for answers, but she was suddenly finding eye contact to be a challenge. Well, now he at least knew where her bruise came from.
"The media's taken to exaggerating a bit lately, Rumiko-san. You're in the entertainment business, so I'm sure you understand. Ever since the glitch appearances slowed, they'd had to fill their airtime with something. A story for their audience. That's all it is."
Even Ruki had to admit, he sounded extremely plausible.
"You're absolutely right, Ryo-kun." He could practically hear her nodding on the other end. "Heroic and clever. Have I mentioned how glad I am you're back to look after my Ruki-chan for me?"
It was, in every way, exactly the wrong thing to say; Ryo didn't have to look to know there was lightning in Ruki's eyes. She glared heatedly at her own cell phone, as if hoping to transmit her annoyance via radio waves.
"You haven't." Remaining calm in the face of an oncoming storm, he tilted his head to one side long enough to catch her gaze before adding, "But, you see...the thing is? She takes care of herself just fine."
The lightening faded. Her eyes softened. A little.
"Ohoho...as expected from Ryo-kun! Ah! If she's still there, could you put her back on, please?"
Nodding his agreement, he pulled the phone away from his ear. Before Ruki had a chance to take it back, however, he gently pressed the receiver to hers, holding it securely in place on her behalf. She looked to him in surprise, reflexively bringing up one hand to place over his. Her fingertips felt like fire against his skin; normally, she ran cooler than he did, so the difference was immediately apparent.
The rest of the conversation was lost to Ryo's ears until long after she bid her mother farewell and hung up. At some point, his hand slid out from beneath hers, but only so he could close most of the remaining gap between them. She stuttered once at his sudden proximity, then recovered quickly. Centimeters apart, only slivers of moonlight were left between them. He reached up to brush over the bruise on her chin. Gently, so as to not cause her any more pain. The area was already tender enough. Then his fingers gradually moved upward.
It wasn't just her hands, after all. Her cheeks remained flushed.. Heat radiated off every inch of her exposed skin. He could even feel it through the thick, over-sized sweatshirt she wore. Except her eyes were far too clear for it to be from fever. She'd cranked the water temperature of her shower up to scalding again. Something she only ever did when returning from a battle that left her particularly sore.
She was, in multiple senses of the word, a hot mess.
He was captivated.
She was aware.
"You lied to my mom," she murmured at one point.
"Technically, that's not true. I told her you didn't have a single scratch. I never said anything about bruises."
His grin was a bit too smug. He was right, but in the most aggravating way.
She scoffed. Closing her eyes, she shook her head. Inhaling once through her nose, she held it for a solid count of four before slowly let out the breath in a steady stream of air through barely parted lips. Part of him recognized it as a technique Jian had taught her to better calm her mind whenever she grew frustrated. Part of him was a little too distracted by said technique to think of much else.
But then she abruptly pulled away from him. His hand and body immediately registered the lack of warmth, bringing him back to the present moment. And their current situation.
He wagered a guess.
"How mad are you right now?"
"Yes."
He guessed right.
A wince. "Would it help if I said I had an excuse this time?"
Her expression had gone neutral. It unnerved him. She was too calm. Ruki was never calm. She was a hot-headed firecracker who wasn't afraid to let the entire world know when she was pissed off. She yelled. On rare occasions, she cursed. But she never fell so quiet that he couldn't tell what she was thinking. Or feeling.
He was beginning to think he had really screwed up this time.
"Ruki, I—"
"I'm not mad you were gone for three weeks." Her arms came up to lightly wrap around her torso. Ryo could have sworn he saw a certain wetness to her eyes, but he brushed that thought aside. "You've left before. You'll leave again. And don't say you won't, because then you will be lying."
He didn't. Because she was right.
At the same time, however, he was left even more confused. "Then why…?"
Her head dipped downward, eyes lowering to the ground. Her lips parted. She took another breath, as if to speak, but nothing came out. Then he saw it. The very slight tremor in her hand. She was shaking. Not from cold. Not from anger. There was only one possibility.
His body moved of its own accord as he once more went to her, but this time, not even the moon would get between them. He held her close as he had ever dared. Forehead centimeters from hers, not quite touching. If he closed his eyes and thought about it, he could smell the scent of honey from her shampoo. Feel her staggered breath colliding with his. His hands came to rest on her shoulders before gradually sliding down her arms.
"Ruki," he murmured her name with none of his usual charming facade. That was gone now. Only raw emotion remained. "Tell me."
She wasn't...unresponsive. Her head dipped forward, and for a time, the skin of her forehead brushed against his. Then she pulled back to meet his gaze, and it was there Ryo finally saw it. The same war he waged with himself every single day. Words unspoken between them. Sentiments unshared. Feelings unacknowledged. A line barely the width of a single strand of hair that neither dare cross.
"I just...hate that you go where I can't follow."
He felt the breath leave his lungs. "Ruki..."
He should have realized sooner. Cutting her com-link was one thing when it was only for a few hours. A day, at most, to give her time to get over it. He'd done it before. But this time, he hadn't cut her off for only a few hours or even a day. As far as she knew, he'd disappeared for two and a half weeks without so much as a word.
Not only was it blatantly obvious in hindsight, but the evidence was literally on her face. Her bruise. A wound earned in battle. Physical evidence that she continued to fight on the front-lines with the strongest of them, rather than hide behind someone else. That's who she was. That's why it never bothered Ryo much when she got hurt. At least, not superficially. With any of the other girls...Ai...Xiaochun...Alice...and especially Juri...the slightest hint of grievance would have him seeing red. They were fighters in their own way, but the differences in power to the enemy were too apparent. Because they weren't Ruki.
He still remembered the day she first transformed. That stupid, brave leap of faith necessary to become one with her partner in Matrix Evolution. He'd been right there to witness it. Naively thinking he was the one who would have to rescue her. Standing by her side until he suddenly wasn't. And then she became Sakuyamon in all her ethereal presence, and his fourteen-year-old self had never felt such awe as he did for her then.
Of course someone so strong and capable would resent being left behind.
She was looking to him now. Awaiting his reaction.
He didn't know what to say. His eyes turned downward. Her lips were dry. Chapped. Dangerous thoughts crept into his mind. Actions he knew he wouldn't, couldn't, and shouldn't pursue. Not even on her cheek or forehead.
The first time he'd gone back though the portal, about a month after Yamaki claimed to have perfected the stabilization process, she'd refused to see him off. Everyone else had come. Even Renamon was there, lurking in the back of the room behind the rest. He hadn't thought too much of it at the time. He was newly seventeen-(the same age she was now)-and prepared for the risks. Though, in the back of his mind, there had been that nagging thought that, should they fail in bringing him back, he would never get the chance to see her again.
The second time came almost a year later. He'd been alone with Yamaki and Reika and the latter had handed him a small cell. Ruki's voice had come through. He couldn't remember what exactly she'd said to him or what he'd said back. If she'd been yelling or upset or just wanted to get in one last snide remark before he was gone again. He'd been a week shy of his eighteenth birthday. She was still months away from turning fifteen. Neither of them had technically said goodbye before he was all but forced to hang up.
More than two years and a half dozen experimental trips later, and she refused to let him go unless it was her voice on the other end of the com-link. So stark a contrast from her earliest reactions. Yet...as he later came to realize...they were all for the same reason.
...where I can't follow…
"What if you could?" He found himself asking. "What if it were possible after all? Would you come with me?"
She stared up at him, mouth agape. She hadn't expected him to ask.
And he didn't expect her to answer. She didn't need to.
His was a duel existence; he'd spent half his life as a resident of another world and the other half drifting in and out of this one. Memories of before were stillhazy on a good day, but he did remember consciously making the decision. He'd wanted to leave his original world behind. His was a wanderlust that could never be fully satiated because he had no solid roots keeping him tethered.
Ruki did. This world was her life. The only life she had ever known. She had her mother and her grandmother. She had Juri and Jian and the rest of the Tamers. Friends. Family. There was a reason why he could never truly ask her to leave them all behind, throw it all away and run off to worlds unknown with him.
Because he knew she would say no.
o
o
"Did Ryo-san have to go through all of this?" Ken asked as he watched the man who wasn't Takeru closely.
The metal table he sat on was cold to the touch. And uncomfortable; from the other side of the curtained partition, he could hear Miyako shifting uneasily. She hated doctors. She even hated visiting the school nurse. The last time Hikari had gotten sick, she'd spent so much time working herself up over going to visit her that Taichi had already come to get her. He never got around to asking what it was about them that made her so nervous...though, right then, he could easily share the sentiment.
He also wondered if vaccination needles had been that big back home, or if he was somehow misrepresenting.
"Akiyama is a...special case," Yamaki told him. His words were hesitant, but he was very deliberate in his neck actions. Filling the disposable syringe with half a vial of clear liquid. Checking for air bubbles. Lightly pushing any out through the needle. "I understand you two were previously acquainted. If so, you should hear it from him. It's quite the tale."
Movement from the other side. Gentle humming of machines. A split-second of whirring. Miyako's older counterpart must have been finishing up the last of her blood-work as well.
Ironically, it had been Miyako herself who'd first realized what it was they were looking for.
"Pathogens," she'd stated, surprising even herself.
"Pathogens?" he'd echoed
He knew what they were, of course. A broad term for anything that could potentially carry disease. Viruses. Bacteria. Germs. Any microorganism they carried on their person. His confusion came as to why they were suddenly a factor. He and Miyako had traveled to other worlds before. Multiple times. And the digimon had been back and forth to the Real World without so much as a single stop at the local vet.
"Because The Digital World is made of data," she had explained. It was the calmest she had sounded since their whole ordeal began, so even though that had been enough for it to click, he let her continue. "And so are the digimon. But this is the Real World. Or at least a Real World. With flesh and blood humans. Heavy emphasis on the blood. We could be carrying something this world had never seen before, or exposed to something our immune systems aren't prepared to—OW!"
"All done," he'd heard Reika declare, no doubt finding opportunity in her distraction to administer the needle.
And now it was his turn.
He supposed they were lucky. After an hour-long, full physical exam, they'd come away with only a single missing antibody. Everything else was normal. All five senses. All twelve cranial nerves. Pulse. Blood pressure (that one, admittedly, came as a surprise to him). They'd even done that thing Jou-senpai had once showed them where the doctor tapped over the front and back torso to listen for any abnormalities. What did he call it? Percussion? That.
Yamaki must have noticed his wary gaze, because he lingered back. The needle was prepared, but there was still one thing left he had to do.
"I know we can't expect you to trust us quite so easily."
Ken was taken aback by the bluntness. He had hoped his facial expressions hadn't betrayed him so easily, but apparently they had.
Yamaki turned back to the small cupboard he'd pulled the vaccine from. On the other side of the top drawer, there was a large strip of medical tape. He pulled out a sufficient length, cutting it at the base with his teeth. With that, he set to work wrapping it around his arm, just above the elbow. He tied it tight, constructing blood flow to his brachial pulse.
"You have no reason to. Trust is something that needs to be earned. Not vouched for by an old acquaintance." To Ken's shock, he plunged the needle into his own vein, slowly pushing the syringe until the entirety of its contents were gone. "...but you have my word that we'll do what we can to earn that trust for as long as you remain here."
He supposed it was meant to be reassuring. In a way, it...kind of was? At least, in the sense that Yamaki had proven the vaccine was safe. If he was willing to inject it into his own veins to prove a point, then who was Ken to argue? Not a doctor. Not even a medical student.
He nodded his consent.
Yamaki administered the shot. It hurt, but no worse than any other he'd received before.
He felt tired. He shouldn't have felt tired. They'd only been up for a few hours, Digital World time. And he was pretty sure he'd gotten a full night's sleep. So why was his body so ready to comply when Yamaki offered to elevate the table into a makeshift bed? Why did his eyelids feel so heavy?
"You might feel a bit drowsy afterwards. It's pretty normal for this strain."
Oh, right. That.
"...Ken?"
Miyako was calling to him now. Not the older one who wasn't actually her. Miyako-Miyako.
"Here," he called back.
The machines in the back of the room continued to hum, filling the pockets of silence with a lulling white noise. It was just the two of them now. Not!Miyako and Not!Takeru had left. He didn't remember the door opening or closing. Rustling paper alerted him to her movement, but it was slow and carried a weight of lethargy. She must have turned over on her side.
"I'm scared," she admitted, and for some reason, he felt an ache in his chest. "...but...I'm glad you're here with me."
He stared at the lights on the ceiling, counting each tiny speck floating around the glowing light. Barely registering her words, even though he heard them as clear as day. He didn't blush. He didn't stutter. He still felt uneasy about it all, but...as he slowly drifted off into a drug-induced slumber…a soft smile appeared.
"I feel the same way, Miya...chan..."
Miyako could tell from the way his voice drifted off that he was asleep. She smiled weakly too at the shared sentiment, pressed her lips together before willing her own eyes to close. Settling down into a slightly more comfortable position, head resting against the small pillow she'd been provided…
o
...until his last words echoed in her mind's ears, and she sat up with a start:
"What did he just call me?"