I think I cursed myself with that last author's note; these last several weeks decided to up the workload by about a thousand as my fellow teachers and I "winded down" the school year with workshop after workshop.
THAT BEING SAID, it is officially Summer Break, Digimon (2020) is BACK and SO AM I.
This chapter is the closest parallel to TRI's school festival shenanigans, and I even made sure to include my absolute favorite line from the movie. As for the crossover reference...let's just say if you have never seen High School Babysitters before now, it will be the purest, most precious anime you ever watch. Pretty much every friend I've ever had in the convention circuit who knows me has either recommended it to me at some point and/or asked if it was an accurate representation of my job working with young children. (It is)
Why did I choose to include it in the story? No meta reason, really. I was already writing the subplot knowing it would involve young children and figured 'why not'?
o
o
DIGIMON TRI: BALANCE
o
"Wait. Did you say New York? As in...New York, New York?"
Wallace nodded.
The girl sitting directly across from him let out a soft squeal in delight, momentarily leaning back into her seat with a grin. Arai Tamami's eyes had gone as wide as the frames of her glasses, and while the other three girls in their group didn't seem as outwardly excited, she paid them little heed. Taking just enough time to push her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, then brushing some of her silky black hair behind one ear, she proceeded to lean in that much closer than before.
"I can't tell who I'm more jealous of right now!"
"I..have always wanted to go," Endo Kagome chimed in with her delicate soprano. Ironic for a girl who spent so much of her life performing onstage to be so reserved in her daily life. "Broadway is supposed to have the best show productions in the world."
Tamami waved a dismissive hand. "Forget Broadway! Tell me, does Times Square really look just like Shinjuku? How's the shopping? What's it like to watch the ball drop on New Year's Eve? Is there really a roller coaster on top of the Empire Building?"
"Breathe, Tama-chan." To her immediate right, Onishi Suzume bit back a laugh.
"I'll breathe when he tells me about the roller coaster!"
Wallace let out a sheepish chuckle of his own at that, smile never once wavering as he shook his head.
"I think I might have said that wrong. Please forgive me. I did not mean to imply that I'm from New York. Only that I was there at that time."
As he spoke, he risked a glance up at the classroom wall clock. More than twenty minutes had passed since Takeru mysteriously absconded without explanation and with Hikari. Not that be begrudged the obvious best friends their secrets. He was just curious what they were up to. And if they were planning to come back for him anytime soon.
Which wasn't to bemoan his current choice of company, by any means. The President of the Drama Club herself had been first to notice him standing off to one side, with Tamami's curiosity quickly spreading to three of her fellow members. She was friendly and wildly animated in conversation, and before Wallace knew what was happening, he had been half-dragged over to a group of desks and pressed for more details.
His accent must have been thicker than he liked to believe, because they'd identified him as American almost immediately. Which led to even more questions.
"What about the pizza? Or the bagels?" Vice President Noguchi Kaiya had her own agenda in mind, subconscious licking her lips. "Or...oh, what was that one thing called? The special sandwich? The one with the eggs?"
All in all, not the worst way he'd ever spent passing the time.
"Oi!" A second year still atop the ladder called down to them in audible exasperation. He had garlands draped around his shoulders matching the ones partially hanging from the walls. "Are any of you actually going to help, or are you going to sit there and flirt all morning?"
Kaiya didn't miss a beat: "You all have it covered. Besides, we don't open for another half hour. Plenty of time."
"We open in ten minutes."
"Like I said. Plenty of time."
"How long exactly were you there?" Tamami turned her attention back to Wallace.
"Only a few days." He shifted in his seat, trying to think of the vaguest way to explain things to their satisfaction. He didn't want to lie to any of them, but there was no way he would be able to tell them the entire story. "I was...in the middle of a cross-country trip and had to get back to Colorado, so I couldn't stay longer."
"And you somehow managed to run into both Hikari-san and Takaishi-kun while you were there?" Tamami rested her chin in one hand. "That's a pretty amazing coincidence."
"Their families must have been on vacation at the same time." Kaiya nodded to herself before turning to Suzume. "Aren't Yagami-san and Ishida-senpai friends too?"
"They are. You're right, Kaiya-chan. It would make sense for them to meet up while they were all there."
"Lucky." Tamami sighed, eyes sparkling with imagination. "I'd give anything to go on vacation with Ishida-senpai."
"Actually, Taichi and Yamato weren't in New York." Wallace corrected. "It was just Hikari and Takeru. I'd heard about their brothers then, but I didn't get to meet either of them in person until last week."
A reflexive response. Given very little prior thought beyond the fact that it was a detail he could safely verify.
Or so he thought.
All four girls immediately froze in place, shock displaying over each of their lovely features. Kaiya's mouth hung open. Kagome audible gasped. Tamami stared as if he had suddenly switched to speaking French mid-sentence. Even a few of their casual eavesdroppers had given up all pretense of feigning indifference, with expressions ranging from bemused to amused to...slightly forlorn.
"Hikari-san and Takaishi-kun...were on vacation...together?" Tamami's face lit up as she turned to Kaiya and extended one hand. "I win. Pay up."
"T-That doesn't prove anything!"
"I can't believe Yagami-san would be okay with that," Kagome murmured, still visibly taken aback. "He's so protective of Hikari-chan."
Suzume smirked. "At least now we know why Hikari-chan didn't show us many pictures from her trip."
"Oh my gosh, you're right, Suzu-chan! I never thought of it like that!"
Wallace was slowly coming to the horrific realization that he'd said something he probably shouldn't have. Though his mind had yet to fully process exactly how or why, he knew there was every chance he'd just accidentally gotten the pair into some kind of trouble. And that he needed to fix it before they got back.
A loud crash echoed into the air. Followed by a scream.
One of the smaller girls—either a young second year, or still a first year—stumbled backwards into a group of camera tripods, knocking them all to the ground. And herself along with them. At the same time, a sheet hanging on the far corner wall crumpled to the floor. Then continued moving.
"Mori-san!" Two second year boys were at her side, helping her to her feet. "What happened?"
Her finger trembled as much as her lower lip as she pointed. "A rat! I saw a rat!"
Three other girls immediate shrieked.
A look was shared between the second year boys, mutually strengthening their shared resolve. One reached for a broom. The other began inching towards the pile of crumpled fabric.
It twitched again.
Then—
"I am not a rat, you stupid girl!"
More shrieks—from boy and girls alike—as a high-pitched voice (muffled as it was) cried out.
Wallace's eyes hardened with a growing realization. He shot up from his seat. At the same time, movement at the front of the room drew his attention in time to see Hikari and Takeru appear in the doorway. Their eyes met his in silent question. He nodded.
Neither seemed surprised.
o o o
o o o
Lopmon was frozen in place, every centimeter of his being stiff as a dry ice cube. At one point, he felt a shiver trickle up his spine and resisted the urge to visibly shudder. Completely unable to move or blink or do little more than watch the horrifying scene before him unfold, helpless to stop it.
"More tea, Bunny-chan?"
To her credit, the toddler was gentle as she tipped the plastic cup to his lips. Far more controlled than some of her rambunctious peers in the background, at least one of whom was still darting from tree to tree with a toy sword. Screaming at the top of his lungs about some kind of monster.
Warm liquid touched his lips. A few drops trickled down his chin. The girl noticed, putting the cup down to reach for a small napkin. She used it to dab at his face. His nose twitched. He felt the irresistible urge to sneeze and managed to suppress it just long enough for her to momentarily turn away.
"...hn?"
Unfortunately, it drew the attention of one of the larger boys. The one who had been staring at the screamer with an odd degree of outward indifference. He glanced Lopmon's way long enough for the child digimon to feel a bead of sweat form on his brow.
For ten long seconds, they engaged in a one-way staring contest before, mercifully, he looked away. Towards another large boy in the middle of helping his younger brother step into some sort of rubber outfit.
"Where did you even get that thing?"
The second boy looked up, then over to Lopmon, then back to the first boy.
"Ah..." He winced, rubbing at the back of his neck. "That's right. Kotarou found it laying on the grass on the way here. We meant to drop it off at the lost and found, and...well..."
The first boy's expression could not have been any flatter. "You got lost yourself, didn't you?"
"H-hey! We still made it here on time, didn't we?"
"Hn."
For a time, the first boy seemed content enough to leave it at that. His attention returned to the screaming child, and was no less stoic about it as he followed the seemingly erratic movement with his eyes. At one point, he slowly raised his fist, timing things so it would make contact with the child's head on his next pass.
"OW! THAT HURTS, NII-CHAN! OW OW OW!"
"Hayato-san...you didn't have to his him that hard..."
"From his seat, Lopmon discreetly winced in sympathy.
o o o
In the tree above, Terriermon also winced. Right before his ears dropped.
"It's no good, guys." He face-planted dramatically into the branch beneath him. A position that should have been extremely uncomfortable. Not that he seemed to notice. "There's too many humans around. If he can't even sneeze without them noticing, there's no way we'll ever reach him without being seen!"
"Maybe we don't have to worry about being seen."
Terriermon lifted his reddened face as the group turned to Gomamon. Unlike his Chosen child, the digimon relished in his moment of spotlight, grinning at each of his friends before gesturing towards a large banner several meters from their current hiding place.
In messy, elementary-level hiragana, the words "SCARY CUTE CONTEST" were scrawled out, completely with a toothy hand-drawn character. Directly below was a wooden platform less than a meter high. Lights adorned either side, one highlighting a sign at the foot of the makeshift stage detailing the minimal rules for entry.
Young children had gathered on either side. All roughly the same size as the toddlers that had digi-napped Lopmon. All wearing monster costumes of varying degrees of craftsmanship.
"I could be wrong, but...don't some of those outfits look kind of like digimon to you?"
o o o
o o o
Takeru sprinted across the field, albeit far slower than his legs could potentially carry him. Partially because Hikari was close at his heels, but moreso because Wallace was trailing several strides behind her. Something which could easily be attributed to the large, cumbersome bundle of jacket he was currently carrying.
"Daisuke-kun!" He heard Hikari call out. Sure enough, he caught a glimpse of their fellow Chosen sitting at the base of a tree. A second, equally familiar figure was next to him. "Iori-kun!"
"Hikari-chan!" Daisuke's face broke into a wide grin at seeing her. He shot up with an enthusiastic wave, only barely registering the other two, until a thought occurred to him: "Wait. Not that I'm ever not happy to see you, but what happened to the photo booth? Wasn't it schedule to start...like...now?"
"Not anymore." Takeru cut in, jerking his head towards Wallace. "We have a problem."
As if on cue, something inside Wallace's jacket forcefully poked him in the ribs, knocking some of the wind out of him.
Daisuke and Iori shared a look. Their expressions flattened.
"Terriermon?"
Wallace sighed. "Surprisingly? Not this time."
"F'u''y A'a'k!"
A muffled cry rang out from inside the jacket just as Wallace was thrown backwards. The force was great enough to knock him off balance. He stumbled for several decimetres before unceremoniously falling on his rear with a painful hiss.
The jacket was tossed aside, revealing a familiar-shaped creature. Bat-like wings stretched wide before resuming their natural fluttering rhythm. A shake of the head, followed by blinking of the eyes to readjust to the bright outdoor light followed. Once his vision was cleared, the child digimon's very first action was to then hover down to where his captor had fallen and blow a deliberate raspberry.
From there, he flew right past Takeru and took refuge in a surprised Hikari's arms, where he proceeded to glower menacingly at all four of the boys. It was a hard, cold look that might have carried greater effect if it hadn't come from such wide, child-like eyes.
Or if the digimon's fur wasn't indigo in color.
"Uh..." Daisuke's jaw dropped. "Did somebody paint Patamon when we weren't looking?"
"I'm not Patamon! I'm Tsukaimon!" He puffed out his cheeks in pure indignation, then looked up at Hikari. "Are all humans this stupid?"
"Hey!"
"Where did he come from?" Iori wondered. "Another gate?"
"At least this one's small enough for us to take on ourselves," Daisuke smirked, folding his arms across his chest.
"Say that to my face!"
Hikari glanced down as the child digimon, feeling his body stiffen. But also tremble. Not in the way a digimon would tremble with adrenaline, either.
Coloring and demeanor aside, there were several notable similarities to Patamon. His face bore the exact same pout when caught in a frightening situation and didn't want anyone to know just how scared he felt. His eyes darted back and forth, clear and alert, with an identical degree of resolve. He was protective to a fault. Convinced, for some reason, that Hikari was under threat from four of her closest friends.
He also responded to a few gentle strokes of his fur in the exact same way, body slowly relaxing the longer she continued to pet his head. His fur was just as soft as Patamon's, a comparison she had held Patamon enough times in her life to make with confidence, and his nose also twitched at the calming sensation.
"It's alright," she murmured soft enough to reach his ears alone. To give away his 'secret' would be betraying his pride. "You're safe. None of us are going to hurt you. I promise."
In the momentary lull that followed, Takeru took it upon himself to check on Wallace. The other blonde was still sitting on the ground, so he offered a hand.
"Thanks," Wallace nodded his gratitude, pulling himself to a stand. "You never mentioned Patamon was a twin too."
"I didn't—"
"We are not twins!" Tsukaimon bristled at the insinuation. "Why does everyone always compare me to that weakling goody-goody? As if I would ever want to share an egg with the likes of him."
If the repeated insults slung at his partner affected him in any way, Takeru didn't let it show. His expression remained neutral as he tried taking a step closer to Hikari, only to recoil back when Tsukaimon blew smoke from his nostrils. Both his hands raised in defense.
He tried not to smile; while he could hardly blame the little digimon for taking such a shine to Hikari, of all people, he had to wonder Tailmon's reaction when she found out.
Iori was next to speak, wisely lingering back. "Do you have a partner, Tsukaimon?"
Tsukaimon turned to the youngest of the children, gauging proximity to be satisfactory before shaking his head in response.
"If you're talking about Dorumon, we're not friends anymore." His nose turned up at the particular memory. Hikari sensed a fresh pang of sadness tugging at his heart. "Ever since our last game of hide and seek, he changed. Just 'cause I'm a virus type doesn't mean he can start growling at me for no reason. He even tried to attack me!"
Glances were exchanged between the five.
"How long ago was that?" Hikari asked.
"I don't know. I don't usually pay attention to the sun when we're playing. It was before he chased me all the way here."
Daisuke straightened, hands falling to his sides. "You mean, he's here too? In the Real World?"
"Yeah. And if you see him, you cant tell him I'm not playing with him again until he says he's sorry!"
o o o
o o o
Mimi was annoyed.
Beside her, Jou was making a point of avoiding any and all eye contact.
If circumstances had been any different, Sora might have laughed.
"I thought you said your mom was watching them!"
Koushiro winced, discreetly sliding himself a little further behind Taichi. He'd expected some of the ire when they caught up with Mimi and Jou to explain the situation. It still didn't prepare him for having to face the former's infamous wrath.
"I thought she was?" It came out more like a question than statement. He tried to force a smile. Mimi's eyes narrowed. A large bead of sweat formed on his brow. "...unless...maybe...her favorite Drama was on this morning..."
"It isn't his fault, Mimi-chan." Sora stepped in, much to Koushiro's gratitude. At the very least, her presence had a slightly more ameliorating effect on the younger girl. "We all should have known better than to think they'd stay put for so long. Remember last time."
"Last time wasn't my first Festival Day in over four years!" She didn't actually stomp her foot and pout, but they could easily picture her doing just that. "Do you know how much effort it took for me to drag Jou-senpai out of his room this morning?!"
Four pairs of eyes turned to Jou, whose face went red as he promptly choked on his own defense.
Loudspeakers at the head of the courtyard were activated, and an ear-piecing feedback rang out; the group turned to see a small crowd gathering.
There was a woman they surmised to be one of the middle school teachers standing on a makeshift platform. She tapped the microphone several times to test for volume. Behind her were more than two dozen figures unusually-shaped figures, the tallest barely reaching her waist in height. The banner hanging directly above was all the explanation anyone needed as to what was going on.
"Before we announce the winners, I want to take a moment to thank the parents and children of our sister daycare and kindergarten school for the time and work they put into this year's Scary Cute Costume Contest." Her voice carried far too chipper for any time of morning. Loudly. "How about one last round of applause for our wonderful contestants?"
The audience complied with thunderous claps and even a few whistles. A man who could only be the father wailed about how adorable his little 'Kirin-chan' looked in her outfit before snapping a rapid series of photos. His daughter was prepared, posing for each and every one.
Mimi, however, was not done being annoyed.
"How are we even supposed to find them?" She wanted to know. Not caring who the question was directed to or who answered, so long as she got one. "The whole courtyard is full of people, and that's not even counting inside the building. We could spend the rest of the day looking! They could be anywhere!"
"...or they could be right there." Sora lifted one finger and pointed.
They followed her line of sight.
Taichi blanched. "You have got to be kidding me."
All together, there were twenty seven participants in that year's Scary Cute Costume, each one standing shoulder to shoulder onstage. Two of the blonde boys were holding hands, one looking close to tears and he clung to his twin brother. Another looked so stoic, it was difficult to tell whether or not he'd fallen asleep with his eyes open. Each child wore an outfit that fit the theme perfectly.
Which made it all the easier for thirteen familiar faces to blend right in.
No, correction: twelve faces, and the back of Lopmon's head as he was held by the stoic-faced boy.
Koushiro's jaw dropped, as did his poor Pineapple Laptop. Mimi's eyes were wide. Jou raised a hand to his temple, lightly massaging back a growing headache. Sora bit back an awkward laugh.
Yamato slapped his forehead before groaning, "Please tell me I'm not seeing what I think I'm seeing?"
"How did they even get up there?"
"You have to admit, it's a pretty clever idea."
"For what? What, are they giving away tickets to an all you can eat buffet as a prize?"
"GO PALMON!" Mimi cupped both hands to her mouth, startling everyone around her.
Onstage, a few of the digimon froze. Realizing they'd been caught. Gabumon and Upamon had the grace to look ashamed. Palmon simply waved back.
Several times, Taichi opened his mouth, closed it, then repeated the gesture. Until finally, his shoulders slumped in resignation. He exhaled most of the tension from his shoulders. Any residual fight left him. The corners of his lips twitched upward. He shook his head, pushing the goggles up and on top of his head.
"Nothing we can do about it now."
For once, Yamato was in begrudging agreement. "The important thing is that, as soon as this is over, we get them out without drawing any more attention to—"
He was cut off by the sound of a drum-roll.
"And now, the moment our little ones have been waiting for. The winner of this year's Scary Cute Costume Contest is..." The woman paused. Mostly for dramatic effect, but also because it took her a moment to properly read the name scrawled out on the card. "...Terror...mon? Did I say that right?"
Yamato's head shot up, eyes narrowing as he raised a clenched fist.
"Hey! What about Gabumon?!"
Sora and Mimi burst into giggles.
Onstage, Terriermon reeled from the shock of victory. He rose both paws to his cheeks, giving them a light squish. A group of high school girls in the audience cooed. Some of his fellow digimon—the ones who weren't hanging their heads in shame at seeing their partners in the audience—were clapping for him too.
Terriermon was so not used to others clapping for him, and resolved to lap up ever moment.
An unseen stagehand brought out the plastic trophy, along with a second envelope. The announcer lady held one in each hand as she bent down at the knee, gesturing for Terriermon to approach.
"Come here, sweetie. These are for you!"
"This is the best rescue mission ever!" Terriermon gushed as he stepped forward. All eyes were on him as he reached up with tiny paws to claim his prizes.
All eyes, that was, except one: Lopmon was still being forced to stare over the stoic-faced toddler's shoulder, in the exact opposite direction everyone else was looking.
Which is how he saw it.
Rustling bushes. Hints of shadow. Flickers of erratic movement, small, but lurking through the brush with ease. A predator zooming in on its prey. One with sharp claws and a fluffy tail swaying rapidly with adrenaline-fueled anticipation.
In the blink of an eye, Lopmon saw Pink.
He had a split second decision to make.
The other digimon leaped forward, and instincts took over. Lopmon's pupils dilated as he came to life, jumping out of the now-shocked toddler's arms before spinning through the air to gain momentum.
"Lop Punch!"
Screams rang through the courtyard as his fist made contact mid-air with Dorumon's large snout. Gusts of strong wind blew from the sheer force. Both digimon were knocked backwards.
The children onstage wailed in confused terror. Some of them scattered. Some fell down, unbalanced by their outfits. The stoic boy was still staring after Lopmon, who had managed to land on his feet. Frozen in a mixture of fear and awe. Parents started rushing the stage, desperate to reach their defenseless babies with little regard for their own safety.
Yamato was the first of the Chosen to react, steeling himself as he reached for his digivice—only to be stopped by Taichi's strong grip on his wrist.
"What the—?" He looked down, then back up at his best friend. Too caught off guard to be angry. "What are you doing, Taichi? We have to—"
"We can't fight here. There's too many people. Too many kids."
"Which is why we have to fight!" Yamato wretched his arm back, his eyes growing heated. "What part of digimon attacking children do you—"
He was cut off again.
By sirens.
A black van drifted into the school courtyard, miraculously avoiding every single pedestrian despite blatant hazardous driving. Some of them continued to run. Others stood in shock as the back doors flew open, revealing three individuals. Two women and a man, all wearing identical white jumpsuits. One of the women was holding a large device of indeterminate nature.
"Where is it?" The man stepped out first, a picture a calm admist chaos. From behind dark shades, he fixated on the Chosen digimon longer than any of the children felt comfortable with. "We got a report there was a wild animal sighting at Odaiba Middle."
The woman holding the large device was next to step out of the van. She gave it a sharp cock, but remained otherwise silent.
A few of the toddlers screamed, burying their faces further into their parents' legs.
It was the remaining woman who chose to focus her attention more on them, even coming to a low kneel. When she spoke, her voice was much gentler than that of her male peer. "It's alright. There's nothing to be frightened about. Our little friend over there is just sick and lashing out, but we're here to take him back to the animal hospital to make him all better."
One of the toddlers risked opening an eye, sniffling twice
"Really?"
"I promise." With a maternal smile, she nodded. Then rose to her feet. "Keiko-san, you're up."
The silent woman took three steps forward before sharply dropping to one knee. The device was hoisted up onto her shoulder, revealing it to be a canon of some sort.
Dorumon's eyes flickered pink as he let out a low snarl, saliva dripping from exposed fangs. He swayed on his feet, still reeling from Lopmon's attack. Then he jumped again, this time leaping far above and over Lopmon, onto the stage. Only the other digimon were left. He had no interest in any of them, either, instead dashing directly through their group to the edge. Towards the van.
The canon was fired.
Yamato's eyes widened: "NO!"
A net sprung from the barrel, expanding as it flew into the air. Dorumon had little time to react before being ensnared. The weights attached to each rope end clacked together with momentum, tangling into a makeshift knot. Trapping the digimon inside.
The man and silent woman moved to retrieve their capture while the third woman approached the Chosen. She peered at each one of them over the rim of her sunglasses, and they saw unexpectedly, warm brown eyes behind her otherwise cool exterior.
"We'll take it from here," She told them. Voice thick with unspoken understanding. "Though, from the looks of it, there may be a few more in the immediate area you...may want to deal with yourselves."
With that, she indicated for her peers-(or were they actually her subordinates?)-to return to the van, protesting Dorumon close behind. The digimon was placed securely on the floor of the back. The doors were closed. The engine roared to life, and the van took off for the exit as wildly as it had appeared, sirens fading into the air as it disappeared through the school entrance.
Sora and Jou stared blankly after it.
Yamato turned to Taichi accusingly: "You called then?"
"Does it look like I called them?!
"Umm..." Mimi cut in, her voice uncharacteristically timid. "What exactly just happened?"
She wasn't annoyed anymore.
o o o
o o o
Dorumon strained against the thick restraints, banging his head several times against the metal table. The straps held. Barely. Highlights of deciphered code scrolled along several monitors, unaffected by the thrashing.
But large portions still remained blank, causing the head Scientist to frown. She turned to her peers with a look of dismay, shaking her head.
One of the assistants came forward with a needle. He held it upside-down and flicked at the syringe until satisfied all the air bubbles reached the surface. From there, he pressed until a squirt of the liquid came through the needle, verifying it was safe to inject.
Dorumon's thrashing increased.
"You could have done that out of his line of sight," the head Scientist chastised. "The poor thing's terrified as it is. We don't need to make this any harder than it has to be."
The assistant's cheeks burned with embarrassment as he muttered an apology before stepping towards the table.
A single prick. Centimetres above the left elbow. Not enough to hurt, but enough to alert Dorumon that something had been done to him. Something his mind was too busy waging war with itself to properly register. All he knew—and all that registered on the neurological scans—was danger.
He roared loud enough to shake several smaller objects on a nearby table.
In the back of the room, Daigo glanced to his left: "You know...I'm starting to think I was assigned to the wrong school."
For once, it wasn't a quip.
Maki ignored him anyway.
Her fists clenched tightly at her sides. Knuckles turning white as her nails dug into her palms. She knew she should have been paying more attention to the scans. Committing every bit of data to memory in order to make her next informed decision. But all she could do was watch as Dorumon continued to protest, albeit notably weaker than before, against anything and everything that dared to approach.
She kicked away from the wall and took a step forward.
One of the scientists made a move to stop her, but she silenced him with a single hand in the air.
Consolation had never been her strongest suit. Even when she wanted to say the right thing, what typically came out was a cold, sobering truth few wanted to hear. Dorumon could have somehow not understood Japanese, and her tongue would still find a way to make things worse.
But Itsuki would have known what to do.
Maki closed her eyes and allowed herself to think of her late friend. She thought of her bright smile that could light up even the darkest room. Of the sweet, delicate voice that had charmed every last one of their friends and allies. Her gentle touch, which somehow always carried with it the smell of cherry blossoms, for those moments when words weren't enough, or simply not needed.
Fingers traced along the edge of a rubbery snout; when Maki opened her eyes, she saw Dorumon staring straight at her. His breathing was still laboured. She thought she saw a charge of pink energy flicker in his eyes, but was unable to verify before they closed and unconsciousness mercifully took over.
"Report."
The head Scientist jumped at the sudden command. "I-Inconclusive."
"Excuse me?" Maki turned back with an incredulous look. "We have the best equipment in the world, a digimon whose data at least two of us in this very room can validate on sight, and the best you can give me is 'inconclusive'?"
"It's just...the data isn't making sense." She risked approaching the nearest keyboard to type in a few commands. Above, the screen switched to a series of graphs and charts. "Even the identification scanner returned only a partial match." More clicks. A stock image of Dorumon appeared on screen, accompanied by a 76% in bold red. "Everything we know about Dorumon has been programmed into the database, including his coding signature, yet the scans insist there's something else there. Something that's not just affecting his core programming...but perhaps even changing it."
Maki stiffened.
Daigo straightened.
But he could do little more than watch as she spun on her heel and marched straight out of the room, leaving a trail of nervous computer scientists in her wake. For once, he didn't bother to follow after her.
He already knew where she was heading.
o o o
o o o
"Sir?"
Yamaki head shot up at Reika's voice. Regardless of who was in the room, she only ever addressed him as such if things were urgent. A quick glance around the room proved they were alone. So...very urgent. And, given recent developments, not entirely unexpected.
The corners of his lips twitched upward. He reached for a cigarette.
"Put her on."
Even with the temporal discrepancies between worlds, it took relatively little time for the image of one Himekawa Maki to appear on the center screen. There were shadows beneath her eyes. She looked haunted. Yamaki could only guess how long it had been on her end since their last conversation.
"My, my, this is a surprise." He kept his tone light, smirking openly as he flicked his lighter in one hand. An old habit of yesteryear he never saw fit to change. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you again so soon."
"Shove it in your ashtray, Yamaki," Maki snapped.
(Yamaki could have sworn he heard a low snort coming suspiciously from Reika's direction.)
"I want the truth, and I mean all of it. Now." The camera shook just enough for him to tell that she was on the move. Where she was, where she had been, or where she was going was blocked by her hardened stare. "This is about more than inter-dimensional rifts, isn't it? Something's attacking the digimon. Almost like some sort of virus."
"It's not a virus," he corrected with a shake of his head.
"Then what the hell is this?"
Yamaki allowed himself the time to take another long drag of his cigarette, tilting his head back to blow excess smoke into the air. But he wasn't gloating. Nor did he seem particularly pleased at the thought of his answer. Because he knew exactly what she was talking about without having to verify.
After all, there was only one thing it could have been.
"Something we thought we had gotten rid of years ago."