Chapter One: Yesterday's Children

Inoue Miyako stood in front of the Izumi's door, balancing several books in one hand as the other reached out to knock. Just before her fist connected, the door flew open.

Izumi Koushiro stood before her looking as if he hadn't slept, and from what he had told her over the phone, Miyako guessed that he probably hadn't. Despite his apparent weariness, there was a vivacious look in the older boy's brown eyes, though whether it was born of excitement or anxiety she couldn't tell.

"I'm glad you're here," Koushiro told her, guiding her inside and taking the books from her arms. "I could really use some help decoding this message."

"Have you managed figure out any of it?" Miyako asked, getting straight the point as they hurried to his room.

"Some," Koushiro said, pulling another chair up to his desk for her to sit on. Something in his voice told Miyako that whatever he had discovered, he didn't like it.

Miyako sat down, pulling her long hair back into a messy bun to get it out of her way, and stared at the garbled code of numbers displayed on the computer screen. "Do you really think it's from– ?"

"I'm not sure," Koushiro interrupted. "It originated from the plane the digital world is on though, so it's definitely a possibility."

Her heart sped up at the thought. "Shouldn't we contact the others?" she asked.

"Not yet. We need to figure out what's going on first so that we have something to tell them," Koushiro said. Miyako couldn't help the pride she felt at the fact that she had been the first person he called, and the only one he thought could help him figure this out.

Koushiro picked up one of the books. It was entitled Mysterious Kyoto: Legends of the Ancient Capital, and Miyako had borrowed it from Professor Takenouchi just this morning on Koushiro's request. "Thanks for bringing the books. From what I've already deciphered, we're going to need the information in them."

Miyako turned to face him, a serious expression on her pretty face. "Tell me everything."

She had been feeling odd all day.

It was just a feeling, a tingling deep in her chest beneath the place where her tag and crest had once rested years ago, but if nothing else Yagami Hikari had learned to trust her instincts.

She had considered telling Takeru, because he was the person most likely to just believe her, no questions asked- but Hikari had decided to wait. No use troubling her best friend with something that might turn out not to mean anything at all.

Not that Takeru would mind. It was one of the things she loved about him, his ability to take everything in stride, and then to put an optimistic spin on whatever the problem turned out to be. But this time she was determined to handle things on her own, even if "handling" at the moment meant pacing her room.

Catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror, Hikari sighed. Her hair was only a bit longer than it had been when she was twelve- she'd been told that the shorter length made her look older, which she had hoped would help Takeru see that they weren't children anymore, that there could be more than friendship between them. They had always been close, but they were older now, and she wanted more.

Hikari shook her head, clearing it of her desires. She wasn't going to let what she felt get in the way of what she shared with Takeru. If he didn't want to see it, then she could pretend that there wasn't anything to see.

Suddenly, the tingling sensation intensified, and Hikari gasped, clutching at her chest. What was going on?

She could recall feeling like this only twice before. The first time had been when she and her brother had first met Koromon. The other had been after the original digidestined had defeated VenomVandemon. Both times there had been an overlapping of this world and the digital world.

Maybe…

Hikari wandered out to the balcony, eyes searching the sky.

A soft "meow" caused her to glance down, as Miko, the Yagami's cat, wrapped himself around her ankles. To her surprise, Hikari felt tears in her eyes. As much as she tried not to dwell on it, she couldn't deny how much she missed the digimon. This was where she had first met Tailmon as her partner.

Gathering the cat up in her arms, Hikari sat cross-legged on the cool cement of the balcony and waited.

"Ta-da! What do you think Mimi-san?" the girl said, holding up an obnoxiously coloured ensemble. Her leader frowned, putting a well-manicured hand to her forehead in exasperation.

Tachikawa Mimi was a person who could appreciate the colour pink- after all, her hair had once been this very shade- but this was ridiculous. As cheerleading captain, she was responsible for choosing the squad's new uniforms, but Mimi had thought it would be nice to take suggestions from the other girls. She was starting to regret her decision.

"I never thought I'd say this, but maybe it should be a little less pink, Aya-chan," Mimi told her younger friend.

Aya sighed heavily, letting the outfit drop to the floor. "We'll never find something we all agree on," she said despairingly. "We'll be here all night!"

Once upon a time, Mimi might have been the type of girl to agree with that, but her past experiences had taught her that giving up was generally the worst possible plan of action. She planned to apply the same philosophy here, though, of course, this was a trivial situation compared to such crises as, oh, the fate of the world for example.

That final battle had led to a lot of changes in her life, such as the loss of her best friend, Palmon. Not all the changes had been bad ones though: it had also led to her parents finally realizing that the "digimon experience", as her father put it, wasn't limited to Japan. After what had happened in New York, they decided to move the family back to Odaiba where they had always felt more at home. Mimi knew she had enjoyed her time in America much more than her parents had, but she was still glad to be back. She had friends in both countries, and Michael was even a digidestined child, like herself, but her friends in Japan had shared something with her that no one else in the world ever would.

So excuse her if she didn't think that being unable to agree on a cheerleading uniform was the worst thing that could ever happen. Mimi surmised from the frustrated murmuring and tense faces that most of her squad didn't feel the same way. As if Tachikawa Mimi ever had ever disappointed fashion-wise.

"We are going to finish this," Mimi declared passionately, "and nothing is going to distract us from our goal!"

The sound of a high-pitched ring-tone pierced the air. After checking their own phones, the girls stared at their leader, and she flushed in rare embarrassment.

"Uh, that's mine. Be back in moment, girls," Mimi told them.

But she wasn't.

Ishida Yamato glanced up from stove at the sound of the apartment door opening.

"I'm really sorry I'm late you guys, practice went longer than I thought it would," came the apologetic sound of his younger brother's voice as Takaishi Takeru hurriedly kicked off his shoes and came running into the kitchen from the foyer, holding a basketball in one hand and his gym bag in the other. "Yamato!" he said, taking in the other boy's apron and sweats. "You're not dressed yet…where's Sora-san?"

Yamato casually leaned back on the counter, trying to hold back a grin at Takeru's anxiety. "She called to say that she got tied up at the flower-shop, but she'll be here soon."

Takeru looked relieved. "So I'm not late."

"Right, which means you have time to shower," Yamato said, wrinkling his nose in mock disgust. "You stink, Takeru."

Takeru stuck out his tongue, before replying, "You try playing basketball for two hours straight and then we'll see how nice you smell." With that he left to get cleaned up.

Yamato laughed, and turned back to the rice. He was glad to see Takeru, even if the kid had a smart mouth. Their father had gone to a weeklong conference in Nagano, and had suggested that Yamato invite Takeru to stay at the apartment while he was away, which Yamato had happily done. Despite the fact that his mother had moved back to Odaiba with Takeru, the boys' busy schedules kept them from seeing each other as much as Yamato would have liked. Now that school was out for the summer, however, he was planning on spending some quality time with his little brother. Not that Takeru was exactly "little" anymore. In the past three years, the younger boy had shot up like a weed. He was just as tall as Yamato now, as much as the eighteen-year-old hated to admit it.

Glancing at the clock, Yamato saw that the time Sora had promised she'd arrive was fast approaching. Putting a lid on the pot of rice and turning off the oven, he untied his apron and headed to his bedroom to get changed.

He heard the shower stop as he was changing from his sweats into a pair of dark jeans and a black button-up shirt, which meant that Takeru would be in soon to get dressed himself. Pausing to look in the mirror, Yamato ran a hand through his blonde hair and arranged a few strands stylishly around his face. Satisfied, he left his room, just as there came a knock at the door.

"Hi, Yamato," Takenouchi Sora said brightly, when he let her in. She looked lovely in jeans and a yellow halter-top, her shoulder-length red hair held back by the clip shaped like a lily that he had given to her as a White Day gift.

"Hey," he grinned, giving his girlfriend of almost two years a light kiss on the mouth. "How was your day?"

"Tennis practice went all right this morning, but don't even get me started on the flower shop." She made a face, and Yamato gave her shoulders a sympathetic squeeze. "Hanako called in sick so my mother and I had to do all of her arrangements." Sora slipped off her sandals and followed him into the living room. "Mmm…it smells great in here."

"Thanks, I hope it tastes as good."

Sora smiled at him. "Of course it will." She looked around. "Where's Takeru?"

"Here," said Takeru, entering the room with still-damp hair and a wide grin. "It's so nice to see you, Sora-san," he said, giving her a hug.

"You too, Takeru-kun. Gosh, you've gotten tall!" she said, looking up at him. "And handsome, too. Next thing you know, Yamato's fans will be mistaking you for him." Takeru immediately blushed, much to the younger boy's chagrin and his brother's amusement. Sora giggled, winking at Yamato to let him know she was only joking.

"Thanks," Takeru said, and then changed the subject. "This was a good idea, Sora-san."

"I think so, too. It's been a long time since the three of us did something together," she agreed.

"All right, all right," said Yamato, rolling his eyes. "Enough flirting you two. Let's eat before the food gets cold."

They had just started eating, taking bites in between good-natured banter and gossip about the other digidestined, when the phone rang.

"I'll get it," Takeru said, pushing back his chair.

Two minutes later, they were running out the door.

Fumbling with his cup of coffee, Kido Jyou stared in amazement at the television screen. Some of the hot drink sloshed over the rim, scalding his hands, but he didn't even flinch.

There were digimon in Kyoto. Digimon!

In between studying for the tests he was positive his professors would surprise him with the first day back from break, Jyou had switched on the evening news, hoping to relax a bit before starting another chapter in his readings.

But he definitely wasn't relaxed.

In fact, Jyou didn't know what he felt, frozen in his chair, listening to the newscaster describe the creatures that had magically appeared in several of Kyoto's temples. Some of what he felt was terror, he supposed, but underlying that was a great sense of anticipation. He knew what those creatures were, if not what they meant.

"Gomamon," he whispered. "Am I finally going to see you again?"

"Pass the ball, Daisuke!" Yagami Taichi called from where he stood in the middle of the soccer field, watching his team run the drill he had planned for them. "We already know you can score goals by yourself! That's it! Now run it again, guys!"

This year Taichi was coaching senior high school soccer, as well as playing for a competitive team at the local college where he was working on a degree in politics. He planned on taking his team of fifteen-year-olds to the top, which meant practicing over the summer break. Of course, with players like Motomiya Daisuke and Ichijouji Ken on the team, Taichi was pretty confident of their success.

Both young men had grown, Ken so much so that he was taller than most boys Taichi's age. Personality wise, neither of them had changed all that much since their adventures in the digital world three years ago: Daisuke was still quick-tempered and passionate, while Ken was coolly intellectual and remained the only person Taichi knew who was able to make Daisuke see reason.

Taichi was just about to switch the drill, when he heard the familiar ring of his cellular phone. He frowned at the interruption, but headed over to retrieve it from his backpack nonetheless.

"Come on in and take a break!" Taichi called, and the boys jogged over to the side of the field where their own bags lay.

Recognizing the number displayed on the screen, Taichi flipped open his phone. "Hello?"

"Taichi? It's Koushiro. Listen, you need to meet me at the park right away."

"What? As much as I'd love to hang out, I'm a little busy right now, Koushiro." Since school had started, Taichi hadn't seen a whole lot of his redheaded friend. He missed the closeness the Chosen Children shared, the closeness that had diminished a bit since he, Yamato, and Sora had began their studies at the university.

"Taichi, this is serious! Something's happened in the digital world!"

Taichi felt his heart stop for a beat, and adrenaline flooded his body. The Digiworld. Were they finally going back, after all this time? Taichi had never really believed that their adventures there were over, even when they had defeated Belialvandemon and the digiports had been closed off. And he had never really given up hope that he would be able to see Agumon again.

"What happened? Are we going back?" he asked excitedly. A few of his players looked at their coach with idle curiously from where they lounged on the grass with their water bottles, but Daisuke and Ken had stood up and were looking at him with anticipation. They couldn't possibly have known what Taichi was referring to, yet some instinct inside of them did. Going back meant something to them, something immensely important.

"I can't explain it over the phone; we need to get all theChosen Childrentogether," Koushiro told him, and Taichi could hear the urgency in his voice.

"All right, I'll be there, and I'll bring Daisuke and Ken."

"Good, that will save me some calls," Koushiro said. "Hurry!" And with that the connection ended.

Taichi stared at the phone for a beat, and then said in a tone that sounded as if he was trying much too hard to be calm, "Practice is over, guys.Pack up your things and head home."

As their puzzled teammates scattered, Daisuke and Ken rushed over to Taichi.

"It's the Digiworld, isn't it?" Daisuke asked excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Ken seemed more calm outwardly, but his voice held a slight tremble when he said, "Has something bad happened? Are our digimon okay?"

"I'm not sure," Taichi said, "but we're going to find out. Do you two have your D3's?"

Both boys nodded. "In my bag," Daisuke said eagerly.

"Mine, too," said Ken.

Taichi gave a wry grin, lifting his shirt a bit to show the digivice clipped to his belt. "I guess old habits die hard," he said. "Let's go!"

Hida Iori couldn't say exactly what had made him open the box.

Maybe it was because today was the anniversary of his father's death, or maybe it was because he'd been watching a television show about North American wildlife and they'd featured an animal called an armadillo that had looked painfully like Armadimon, but whatever it had been, he had opened it. And now Iori sat on his bed with his most prized possessions laid out carefully before him, like some strange museum of his soul.

There were pictures of his father, and of his grandfather who had died last year. There were medals from Kendo competitions, and awards from school, and other treasures from the past. And, of course, his D3, lying blank and quiet on his bedspread.

But the digivice had been silent for a while now; Iori was used to that. Still, he couldn't help but miss those adventures of his younger days.

Not that Iori's life was some horrible tragedy. He liked all his classes at the junior high school, and was the best fighter of his age in the Kendo league. He had many friends, both old and new, and was generally a happy boy, if a pragmatic one. But there would always be that empty space inside of him that was meant for his digimon.

Suddenly, the light in the room shifted, and a faint beeping noise met his ears: it was his D3. Iori stared at it, disbelieving.

For the first time in three years, there was something on the screen.