Chapter Six: Four Go Alone

"Oof!"

Iori landed with a grunt, Upamon popping out of his arms and onto the grass beside him. He lay for a moment, flexing his limbs to check for broken bones, before coming to the conclusion that while he hurt, there had been no serious damage done to his body. Holding one hand against his head, Iori sat up and looked around. They were in the park, and it was just past dawn, if the sun peeking up over the distant cityscape was any indication. He was relieved to see that Miyako, Daisuke, and Ken had landed nearby with their digimon.

"Is everyone all right?" Iori asked.

"I…think so," Miyako said, sitting up and brushing hair from her eyes, Poromon hovering just over her shoulder.

Daisuke was on his hands and knees, looking ill. "Ugh. I feel like I did that time we decided to ride the roller coaster at Tokyo Dome City six times in a row."

Ken reached over and patted him on the back. "At least you haven't thrown up…er, yet." He backed away a bit, to which Daisuke stuck out his tongue. Iori rolled his eyes at them.

"Hey!" Miyako suddenly said, staring at her watch. "It's the wrong time!"

They stared at her. "Maybe your batteries ran out," Daisuke suggested.

"No, baka." She made a face at him. "I mean it's not the same time as it was when we were in the Digiworld. It was just after dark there, remember?"

Iori checked his own watch, intrigued. "She's right. And we couldn't have been traveling for that long."

Ken looked thoughtful. "But does that mean that time is going faster here or in the Digiworld?"

"Well," Miyako said, "Time had pretty much equalized when we were there, but I know that when the original Chosen Children went to the digital world for the first time, time went a lot slower here. I mean, Koushiro-san told me that they were gone for months, but returned to find only a few days had passed in our world."

"So...this is confusing, but maybe we when we left the Digiworld it was already tonight there," Daisuke said, looking dizzy from the possibility. "Right now has already happened, because everything is faster there."

"Maybe," Ken said. "But does that mean we have more time to free the Guardians or less?"

It was a good question, and they were all silent, considering. Iori felt the weight of their task settle down upon them like a quilt of lead. It was almost overwhelming. He stood, scooping Upamon up into his arms. "We should get going. We need to get to Kyoto."

Miyako got to her feet as well. "Right. Should we take the train?"

"That's probably the fastest way," Iori agreed. He turned and started to walk in the direction of the train station. He figured he had just enough money in his pocket for a one-way ticket, and Upamon could be easily snuck on board as a toy. Although, he thought ruefully, not many thirteen year olds still carried around stuffed animals. Suddenly, a tentative hand grasped his shoulder.

"Iori," Ken said. "It's Sunday. The trains don't run this early." He smiled, a bit ruefully. "I should know."

Iori felt himself slump a little. "Oh…."

"I've got an idea," Miyako said brightly. "Why don't we all go home and get a bit of rest and grab a bite to eat, and then we can meet at the stationto catch the first train to Kyoto. That way we'll be fresh when we face off against…well, against whatever's waiting for us."

"That sounds pretty good to me," said Daisuke. "I'd really like a change of clothes…."

As the other boy trailed off, Iori noticed for the first time that both Daisuke and Ken still wore their soccer uniforms, cleats and all, from the evening before. He could see how they might want to change into something a bit more practical for fighting evil digimon. It was logical, certainly, but he didn't like the thought of wasting any more time than they already had, especially when their friends in the Digiworld may well be fighting for their lives by now.

"Iori," Upamon said, interruptinghis thoughts, "I'm really hungry." He gazed up at him, widening his eyes for effect, and Iori almost smiled despite himself.

"Okay," he said, not really seeing any other option. "Let's all go home then."

"Yay!" Upamon cheered. "We get to eat, da'gya!"

"What time is the first train, Ken-kun?" Miyako wanted to know.

"Ten o'clock, I think," the dark-haired boy replied, glancing at his watch. "Which means we should meet at the station in about four hours."

Iori frowned as a troubling thought crossed his mind. "What about the others' families? We need to contact them."

Miyako nodded. "You're right. But what do we tell them?"

"The truth," Daisuke said simply. "They've all been through this before, right?"

"True," Miyako said. "So should we each call some of them?"

"That's probably best," Ken said, and then pursed his lips in that way he did when he didn't like what he was about to say. "I don't mean to somehow try to get out of helping, but I don't really know any of -"

Daisuke cut him off. "Don't worry about it. We'll get it done between the three of us."

Iori narrowed his eyes a bit, and was about to say something about sharing responsibility, but before he could open his mouth, Miyako spoke up.

"Right," she said, casting a warning glace at Iori. "There are only seven calls that need to be made. I'll call Koushiro-san, Mimi-san, and Sora-san's families."

"I'll take the Yagami's," Daisuke said quickly. "And Ishida-san has a soft spot for me, I think, so I'll call him, too."

"I guess that leaves me with the Kido's and Takeru's mother," Iori said, not really minding.

"Thanks." Ken looked grateful, and Iori found himself suddenly sympathetic toward the older boy. Iori had never felt that close to the other Chosen Children, with the obvious exception of Miyako who was like a sister to him, but he still knew them better than Ken did.

"I should get going, if I'm going to make my bus," Ken said.

Daisuke frowned at him. "You're not going back to Tamachi, are you? Just come over to my place."

Ken shook his head. "Thanks, but I need to talk to my parents, and it's probably better if I do it face to face." He headed toward the street. "I'll see you in a few hours."

"Bye!" Minomon called over Ken's shoulder.

Chibimon waved after him, and then bounced over to his partner's side. "Come on, Daisuke! Let's go get breakfast!"

"Relax," Daisuke said, laughing as the little digimon tugged on his pant leg. "I'm coming." He turned toward Iori and Miyako. "Later, guys!"

Iori and Miyako watched him disappear down the path, before starting toward their own apartment building.

They were quiet for a long time, each spinning the situation around in their own mind, trying to see it from all angles. Miyako would be looking at it scientifically, Iori knew, analyzing each separate aspect individually, to see how it all connected. Iori wasn't so methodical. He tended to focus on the whole picture, viewing it in his mind as if from a great height, looking over the entire landscape of the problem. The trouble was, there were gaps between what they knew for sure, spaces that could only be filled by experience.

"What are you thinking, Iori-kun?" Miyako asked softly, glancing over at him. Iori met her eyes, glad that he had finally caught up to her in terms of height.

"I'm thinking that we're flying blind on this one," he said truthfully, knowing that she wouldn't expect anything less from him. "And I don't like it one bit."

There was a police officer waiting by the front door.

Inwardly, Ken cringed, but he approached the man calmly: he had been half-expecting this. The officer raised his brows, and ducked inside the door, calling for Ken's parents.

His mother was hysterical, as Ken had known she would be, though that fact didn't make him feel any less guilty. He had suspected that his parents had never quite believed that their son had made a full recovery from everything that had happened three years ago, that he would never be psychologically stable. Ken thought differently, but he could hardly blame them, even if it was irritating not to be trusted. He had tried very hard over the last few years to be the perfect son to make up for his past, never once missing a curfew, always making top grades despite the loss of his genius. He thought calling the police had been an overreaction on their part- surely he deserved some amount of confidence from them by now.

But that just wasn't how things were, and so he would have to play politics with his own parents.

Ken had explained the situation once before, had told them how he had become involved with the digimon, and all the reasons why he had to protect them. He couldn't fault them for their concern -they had already lost one son, after all- but their smothering overprotection was a little too much to take. His father kept asking "Why, Ken? Why do you have to go?" over and over again as if it were a choice Ken had made just to hurt them. How could he explain what it was like to be a Chosen Child? How could he explain the need to atone for his sins in a world his parents hardly believed existed?

It couldn't be done. All Ken could do was apologize, and tell them he loved them, and that he would be home just as soon as he could.

It was his mother who finally accepted it, wiping her eyes on her apron. Ken didn't know whether to be relieved or alarmed by her resignation, until met her eyes, and something passed between them. It was as if she was finally seeing him for what he was, not as some little boy hiding in his brother's shadow.

"I think," she said, placing a steady hand on her husband's arm to stop his desperate rant, "that this is something Ken needs to do. Isn't it, Ken?"

"Yes," he told her quietly. "It really is."

"Then you have our support." The words loosened some of the tightness that had formed in his chest. He would be going to Kyoto regardless, but he couldn't deny his need for their support. "Just," his mother's voice caught on the word. "Just come back."

"Don't worry, Ichijouji-san," Minomon spoke up from where he had been resting silently in Ken's arms. "I would never let anything happen to Ken-chan."

His parents stared at the digimon, as if they had forgotten he was even there. His father looked skeptical about the tiny creature's ability to protect his son, but his mother's face had softened.

"Thank you," she said, smiling down at the digimon.

Wormmon blushed, and Ken chuckled a little. "He always takes good care of me." He looked at his parents, deciding to end to negotiations with a few last irresistible words. "Just like you."

Daisuke turned over again in bed, unable to surrender his exhaustion. His anticipation was making him restless, and he finally gave up, throwing off his covers.

A whimper made him look down, and his smiled softly at Chibimon who was curled up on the pillow. Daisuke pulled the blanket up over the little digimon. "Sleep tight, little guy," he whispered.

He padded over to his desk and slumped into the chair, absently picking up a pencil. He began to doodle on a scrap of paper in an attempt to dispel some energy, not really paying attention to what he was drawing. Sighing, he brought his other hand to his chin, leaning on it as he gazed across his desk and out the window. The morning had grown cloudy, the dark sky foretelling rain. Not a superstitious person by any means, Daisuke didn't really think of the weather as any sort of omen, but if they were going to be fighting, he would much rather have clear skies, especially since most of their digimon's higher forms involved flight.

He glanced back down at the paper he was writing on, and almost dropped his pencil in surprise. He had drawn his crest. Cocking his head to one side, Daisuke considered the symbol on the page before him, the quartered circle bordered by four smaller triangles. The Crest of Loyalty.

Even now, he could hardly believe it: he finally had his own crest! Daisuke had always been proud to be the Chosen Child of both Courage and Friendship, but at the same time he had felt as if he had not so much earned the title as he had borrowed it from Taichi and Yamato. When Ken had been given the Crest of Kindness, Daisuke had been admittedly envious, and since then he had always hoped to one day discover a virtue that was truly his own. And now he had.

A thump from the room next to his brought his attention back to the present. Jun was awake then, probably getting dressed. His parents weren't up yet, but then they hadn't gone to sleep until he'd arrived home. After the initial yelling -more from anxiety than true anger Daisuke reasoned, a bit guiltily- his parents had calmed down enough to listen to his story, taking everything in with growing horror and fascination. They believed him, taking into account what had happened three years ago, but that didn't make them any happier about the situation.

Daisuke sighed again. It was easy to forget that his involvement in the Digiworld affected other people besides him and his friends. He didn't like worrying his family like this, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Ken was probably having a harder time explaining himself, and Daisuke outwardly winced at the thought of dealing with his friend's overprotective parents.

It was different for people like the Yagami's. When Daisuke had called earlier, Mrs. Yagami had almost seemed to be expecting it, listening quietly before thanking him. It was true that of all of them Taichi and Hikari had been most involved with the digital world, so it made sense that their parents would be relatively accustomed to their strange disappearances by now. It was probably the same for the rest of the original Chosen Children's families, though he'd been unable to test that theory since Mr. Ishida hadn't answered the phone. Daisuke had left a message on the Ishida's answering machine, awkwardly explaining where Yamato and Takeru had disappeared to before quickly hanging up.

A glance at the clock told him that he needed to leave soon if he wanted to make it to the train station on time: if he didn't, Miyako would never let him hear the end of it. He should probably wake Chibimon. Standing, Daisuke raised his arms in a much-needed stretch. He paused mid-yawn as a sudden thought grabbed hold of him, and his hands flew to his head.

Daisuke dashed over to his closet, sliding onto his knees to rummage about in the back. He bit his lip in concentration, feeling around in the dark, fingers tracing over old clothes, comic books, a soccer ball, something decidedly slimy, and…ah, there it was! He pulled his hand back, fingers hooked around his prize.

Standing triumphantly, Daisuke fitted the goggles to his head, snapping the straps back to hold them in place. He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror that hung on the back of his door, wondering at the confidence the sight of Taichi's old goggles instilled in him. There was no way they could lose, especially now that he had his good luck charm.

The goggles glinted in the light, almost winking at him, and Daisuke grinned.

Miyako dodged one final puddle, before pushing open the heavy doors that marked the entrance to Odaiba station. Brushing droplets of rain from her hair, she gazed around, shivering slightly as her damp skin reacted to the cool, air-conditioned room.

"Do you see them?" Poromon asked, peering out over the top of her jacket, which she had buttoned up around him to keep him dry and out of sight.

"No, but we're late, so they probably bought their tickets already and went to wait on the platform," Miyako replied, walking over to join the line at the ticket booth.

It had taken a bit longer than she had thought it would to make her phone calls to the other Chosen Children's parents. Mr. Takenouchi in particular had kept her on the line for almost half an hour with inquires about the digimon that had appeared in Kyoto. He had been interested not only for his daughter's sake, but also for academic reasons stemming from his research. Miyako had answered his questions as best as she could, but had finally had to admit that she really didn't know all that much about it, which wasn't entirely unusual when it came to the digital world. Then she had had to explain everything to her own family, which had not exactly been easy. Miyako would have covered all her siblings' shifts on top of her own at the convenience store to get out of that conversation.

But they had made it, at last, and her father had even lent her the money for a train ticket. "Make sure you get a two-way ticket," he had said anxiously, which had unnerved Miyako a bit. Did they really think that she wouldn't come back?

She finally reached the window of the ticket booth, and smiled politely at the bored looking woman inside. "One return ticket to Kyoto please."

The woman raised an eyebrow at the lump inside of Miyako's jacket, but said nothing as she handed her the ticket. Miyako tucked it into her pocket and followed a crowd of people out onto the platform.

"Help me find them," she whispered to Poromon, pulling the digimon from her coat to hold him in her arms, hoping that he would be mistaken for a stuffed animal.

They walked down the platform, searching for familiar faces. Miyako was beginning to wonder why there were so many people for this train, until she overheard a boy talking excitedly to his friend, and remembered the news report Jyou had mentioned.

"I can't wait to see the monsters! I bet they'll be just like those ones we saw on the Internet a few years back."

Great, Miyako thought. This is a rescue mission, but the last thing we need is a bunch of tourists putting themselves in danger. They would have to be extra cautious with their attacks.

"There!" Poromon suddenly said, flapping his wings excitedly. "I can see them!"

Miyako followed his gaze, and was relieved to see the boys waving them over. She began pushing her way through the crowd. "Sorry we're late," she said as she approached.

Daisuke smirked, but for once refrained from taunting her. Miyako suspected that this had less to do with any maturity on his part and more to do with a few preemptive words from a certain dark-haired friend of theirs.

"Actually, you're right on time," Ken told her, indicating the slow-moving train that was just pulling up to the platform.

They moved with the crowd that flowed toward the cars. "I take it you guys have already figured out why all these people are here," Miyako said, glaring at a little girl in pigtails who shoved her from behind.

Iori nodded. "They heard the news and want to see the digimon."

"Sort of like us," Daisuke added. "Except that we know what we're getting into."

Miyako wondered about that, but said nothing as she handed her ticket to the attendant. The man checked it, and motioned for her to board. Here we go again, she thought.

Miyako took a breath, and stepped onto the train.