AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Hey! Happy Friday! How are you doing? Also – how is it already February?! This year is flying!

Thank you all so much for the love you showed the last chapter! I had a lot of fun writing it (is fun the right word? Hmm… maybe I'm more of a sadist than I thought.) Our poor kids are going through a tough time! But things can only get better, right?

I hope you enjoy today's update, and I would love to know your thoughts on the story so far and what you think is coming up next.

SETTLING IN

Beep-beep-beep-beep.

Beep-beep-beep-beep.

Beep-beep-b-

A fist emerged from beneath the blankets to slam against the snooze button. Taichi emerged from beneath the covers with a groan to glare at his alarm clock. His restless night had ended all too soon, and he grimaced at the rays of sunlight that poured through the gap in his curtains. He pulled the blanket back over his head with a groan and rolled on to his side, burying his face in the crook of his elbow.

Hikari.

His eyes shot open as the events of the day before hit him like a train. He bolted upright, throwing the covers back to look around the room. The sleeping bag lay neatly on the floor as though it had never been used by anyone but Miko who had curled herself in its hood. She looked up at him with a disgruntled chirp before stretching and rolling over. His eyes travelled to the bookshelf where the Crest of Light sat alone and dull on the top shelf, and his stomach knotted.

Had it all been a dream?

Something was beeping. The microwave. The microwave was beeping. Either his mother had made a miraculous recovery, or… He scrambled out of bed, tripping over the blankets that pooled around his ankles and stumbling in to the kitchen, only to stop and stare in surprise.

The kitchen was a sight for sore eyes. The counters were covered in soggy oats and milky water and half-filled bowls of what Taichi assumed was supposed to be porridge. A pan sat on the stove with a wooden spoon stuck straight up in the air; an attempt which seemed to have been abandoned in favour of the microwave. The bowls closest to his oat-covered sister were looking gradually more edible, but that didn't stop her from poking a still-steaming attempt with a deep frown while her latest bowl span slowly in the microwave.

When she finally spied him she straightened stiffly, a blush rising to her cheeks. She cast her eyes about the mess and tucked a lock of oat-covered hair behind her ear, stammering various half-formed greetings until she was cut off by the shrill beeping of the microwave.

"I wanted to make you breakfast before you went to school," she said, setting the bowl on the counter and blowing on her fingertips. She stared at the bowl with a disappointed sigh. "I thought I could remember how to do it… you always made it look so easy…" Taichi laughed as he grabbed a spoon from the draining board and helped himself to a mouthful despite Hikari's protests. After initially searing the roof of his mouth he swallowed the scalding lump and smiled to hide the tears in his eyes.

"It's great!" The words came out in a pained wheeze and Hikari's face crumpled in dismay.

"It's awful," she moaned, slouching against the counter. Taichi nudged her gently with his shoulder.

"It's not that bad," he said, heading for the cabinet. "It just needs… a-ha!" With a grin he withdrew a bottle of squeezable honey which he lavished on top and stirred in thoroughly. His second mouthful was almost heavenly, and Hikari's face lit up with a smile.

She brushed off his attempts to help her tidy up, making him sit and eat while she gathered the bowls and debris from around the kitchen. Once he'd finished she took his bowl and gave him another for their mother who had taken up her usual seat infront of the television. Taichi managed to convince her to take a few tepid mouthfuls followed by her morning medications, which she took without a fuss. By the time he returned to the kitchen, Hikari had returned it to its previous spotless state.

"Does she need any medicine at lunch?" she asked.

"No, just morning and night." She smiled and nodded, taking the cold remains of their mother's porridge and cleaning the bowl in to the bin before washing it in the sink. He watched her carefully, unable to ignore the shiver in her shoulders or the light sniffle as she placed the bowl on the draining board.

"I'll call in sick," he blurted. She turned to him, drying her hands with a confused frown. "School would understand. I could tell them mum's not feeling so great-"

"You're not skipping school for me," she said sternly, and the resemblance to their mother was painful. "I'll stay here today while you're at school, and then I can come meet you after so we can go to the Digital Wor-" He gripped her shoulders and steered her back to the bedroom, casting a worried glance at their mother. She was still staring at the television, giving no indication that she had heard the words, and Taichi gave a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind them.

"We're not going today," he said. Hikari opened her mouth to argue but he cut her off. "Hikari, you just got home! We need to get you stuff! A bed, for starters-"

"The sleeping bag is fine."

"Toothbrush, clothes, shoes… We'll need to organise a tutor and get you caught up so you can go back to school, because they'll ask too many questions if you show up knowing nothing-"

"I don't know nothing-"

"That's not what I meant." He sighed heavily and squeezed her hands, trying to find the words. "These last few years have been… difficult. It was easier for the others, their parents said they went missing at summer camp, but you… you never went. You just went missing. They tried saying that mum and dad weren't… that they couldn't… they wanted to take me away." He remembered the questions, the investigations, the frequent visitors to the apartment who made notes on the cleanliness of the bathroom and what was in the fridge, poking their heads in to Taichi's room and trying to blame his father for the mess. Hikari squeezed his hands and he felt a rush of warmth race up his arms.

"I'll look through the phone book and see if I can find a tutor," she said. "But you have to go to school. You'll need to be leaving soon, right?" He glanced at the clock – he'd need to be leaving in ten minutes if he stood a chance of getting there on time, and he'd barely begun to prepare for the day.

"You sure you don't want me to stay home with you today?" he asked. "I really won't be missing much-"

"I'll be fine," she said, and her smile was a little too convincing. "The last few days… There's been a lot going on. I'll probably spend most of today sleeping."

"Hikari-"

"You're going to be late." He felt her trying to steer him towards the door but he pulled back, keeping them in place and fixing her with a firm look. "I'm fine, Taichi. I'm just tired."

"Promise?"

"Promise," she answered. She was lying, he knew, but even if he could get her to admit the truth what could he do about it? It wasn't like he could storm in to the Kaiser's keep and get Tailmon back, and he couldn't exactly take her to school with him. He chewed the inside of his cheek before sighing. He'd already missed a few days of school for the trip to Odawara, and his grades weren't exactly anything to brag about. It probably was for the best that he didn't miss any more of his classes, and if Hikari was going to spend the day sleeping… He relented with a sigh and placed a kiss on her forehead.

He ran to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth and rake his fingers through his hair (he had neither the time nor the patience to try and tackle it with a comb) before throwing on his uniform. He hadn't even unpacked his schoolbag from the night before, and he bit back a groan at the incomplete homework assignments he'd planned to tackle after the game (Sora was right; he really needed to stop leaving them to the last minute). He was shrugging on his blazer as he made his way through the lounge, and Hikari met him by the door with a small paper bag.

"I made you lunch," she said as he slipped on his shoes. "It's not much, but there wasn't much in the fridge. We should go grocery shopping after school."

"I'm not sure we'll have time," he said, taking the lunch and slipping it in to his schoolbag. "We have to get stuff for you-"

"You need to eat."

"I have lunch money-"

"You're going to be late!" With a final curse and a kiss upon her brow, Taichi shot out of the apartment and sprinted to school. He managed to slide in to his seat seconds before the bell, and he didn't miss the curious look that Sora gave him as Mr Tanaka made his way through the attendance register. He reached in to his bag, wondering if he would have time to complete at least one of his assignments before his first class started, and his fingers brushed the lunch bag. He pulled it in to his lap and peered inside.

Hikari had pulled together an assortment of snacks and some leftovers from the fridge. Tucked between two snack packs was a small piece of folded paper, just like their mother used to do. Inside the note, in shaking, uncertain lines was a small drawing of his crest followed by a short message:

Have a good day at school.

Jou set the cup back in its saucer with trembling hands. Even after his seventh cup, the smooth porcelain handle felt strange in his grip and tea didn't quite taste the same as it did out of his whittled wooden mug. The apartment was too still and too silent; the air thick and stagnant around him. The biscuits were too rich, and despite his hunger Jou was still makig his way through his first Bisuko.

He stifled a yawn and set the half-eaten biscuit back on the saucer. He hadn't slept. Shuu had spent the night probing him with questions, listening to Jou's stories and the developments he'd made in the self-created field of Digital Medicine. Jou had managed to ask a handful of questions of his own, and Shuu had given him a handful of answers before returning the focus to Jou. Shin was doing well – he was studying medicine at Tokyo Medical and Dental University on a scholarship, and had just been accepted on a summer internship programme at Takanawa Hospital just across the river in Shinigawa where he would be working under their father.

Shuu meanwhile had confided in Jou that he was no longer studying medicine, but rather anthropology. When Jou had asked how he had managed to get their father's permission to change subjects, Shuu had laughed nervously and said that he was still figuring out how to tell him – and that he needed to figure it out before he moved to Kyoto in the autumn to study full-time under Professor Takenouchi, who happened to be Sora's father. They'd met sometime after the others had returned home, back when there was still hope of making their way back to the Digital World, and through making small talk with the Professor he'd realised that perhaps medicine wasn't his true calling after all.

Shuu had left sometime before dawn to collect their father from the end of his night shift, having called ahead with a message for him not to catch his usual train. Jou had tried to make himself comfortable, but he felt like a stranger. It didn't matter that the furniture was the same – down to the scratch on the heavy oak table from where he'd once dropped a heavy knife – or that the apartment had the same musky smell of his father's cologne – oaky and smoky – or that the pictures on the mantelpiece hadn't changed; this wasn't the small apartment that they had grown up in, and Jou felt like an outsider. He'd moved a couple of times as a kid, and he knew another move had been coming, but somehow he'd never imagined that they would have moved without him.

He was too young to remember the first move. The apartment he'd been born in to (quite literally, as his mother had gone in to labour during dinner) had been a struggle with two children, and with three it quickly became unmanageable. He'd been six months old when they moved to Hikarigoaka, and they'd lived there for eight years until the battle of Parrotmon and Greymon. The overpass had been destroyed, and the structural damage had spiderwebbed in to their apartment building. They'd stayed with relatives for little over a year before his father had started looking for somewhere new.

It was then that Jou's mother got sick. Jou remembered the coughing and the crying; the late nights and the early morning trips to the emergency room. He remembered all-too-well the feeling of coming home without her, and crying to Shuu because he'd aced an English test she'd stayed up all night helping him study for. The apartment had never been the same without her, and neither had their father. They stayed there for less than a year after that, and Jou remembered overhearing his father talking to Shin about moving again. It was time they all had their own rooms, he'd said, and Shin had eagerly agreed. Not a word was said the next day, but within the week Jou had been enrolled in the summer camp that would change his life.

The new apartment in the Odaiba mansion complex was much larger, complete with a generous kitchen and lounge, a master bedroom, two smaller rooms and a small box room that had been converted in to a study. But between the lush carpets and the intercom system and the concierge at reception, it felt more like a hotel than a home, and suddenly Jou found himself wishing he could be eight years old again, living in their tiny apartment in Hikarigaoka; wishing that he'd never left his bed to look at the monsters in the street.

The key turned in the lock and Jou's heart stopped. He slowly rose from his seat an wiped his sweaty palms on Taichi's shorts as he heard Shuu enter, closely followed by their father. The sound of his voice made Jou's heart restart with a painful lurch, and his glasses slipped down his nose as Shuu led his father in to the lounge.

Kido Masaharu was exactly as Jou remembered, right down to the deep furrow in the middle of his brow. He was tall and wiry, like his sons, and his blue-black hair was decorated with streaks of grey at his temples. Nimble fingers were rubbing at the paper creases around his eyes, dancing beneath his glasses, and he didn't see Jou until he had set his briefcase down by the coffee table and turned towards the kitchen.

Silence blanketed the apartment, broken only by the steady ticking of the clock on the mantel. Shuu bounced nervously in Jou's peripheral vision, twisting his hands together anxiously as he glanced back and forth between them. Jou was starting to feel lightheaded (although how much of that was staying awake well past his usual bedtime with no food, he couldn't quite tell). He swallowed thickly and dislodged his voice from where it had gotten stuck behind the knot in his throat.

"Dad-" As soon as he'd found it, he'd lost it again. What to say? What could he say? His father had never been a man of many words – his mother used to joke that Jou had taken them as a child, given his tendency to ramble when he was nervous. And so he let the silence hang between them, barely daring to blink as his father studied him from head to toe, before doing the last thing Jou had expected him to do.

He gave Jou a hug.

It wasn't that his father was unloving (though he'd often joked that their mother had a heart big enough for both of them), but he'd never been a particularly physical man. He'd never rejected hugs, but he was never the one to initiate them. Jou had almost forgotten what it felt like.

"You're home." His father's voice rumbled in his ear, and suddenly the room didn't feel like such a hotel anymore.

They moved in to the lounge and Shuu brought through more tea and biscuits, though they sat untouched on the coffee table between them as they continued to stare at Jou. He tried not to squirm under the attention.

"So… what's new?" he asked with a feeble smile. Their father leaned forward to pour himself a cup of tea. Shut cleared his throat.

"Well, dad was promoted to Head of Diagnostic Medicine last year, which is when we moved here to be closer to the hospital. It's a good job but long hours, right dad?" Their father nodded slowly. Jou caught Shuu's eye and Shuu shrugged. "I guess I've caught you up with Shin's news. He'll be happy you're home-"

"We'll call him next weekend," their father interrupted. "Let him get his exams out of the way first." Shuu looked like he wanted to argue, but quickly thought better of it. Instead he flashed Jou a smile.

"So, how does it feel to be home again?"

"It's strange," he answered. "I'd forgotten how noisy the city was. In the Digital World, I lived in the woods a lot, so it was nice and quiet." For the most part, he thought.

"Do you reckon you'll miss it?" Shuu asked. Jou shrugged and pushed his glasses back up his nose.

"I suppose I will," he said with a fond smile as his thoughts wandered towards Gomamon and Floramon and little Relemon who hadn't quite figured out that humans weren't supposed to have mon at the end of their names. "But it's not like I'm stuck here like I was stuck there. We'll be heading back in a few days because-"

"No."

His father's voice was firm; a voice that Jou had heard many times in his life. It said, in no uncertain terms, that there would be no discussing the matter. Jou looked to his brother, but Shuu only glanced down at his hands.

"I can't just stay here," Jou countered. "I have to-"

"You are not returning to that place, and that is the end of it."

"But-"

"No!" he roared, rising to his feet. The teacup and saucer flew from his lap and shattered against the coffee table. "I lost you once to that place and I will not lose you again!"

"It's not like that this time!" Jou argued. He stood, pushing his glasses back up his nose. "We won't get stuck again. There are these other kids now and they can-"

"Kids, Jou! Children! Like you were – like you are!" He drew himself up tall, looming over Jou, his face fixed in a furious scowl. "You will not be going back there, and that is final." He stormed from the loung and Jou winced as the slamming of the bedroom door echoed through the apartment. Shuu let out a heavy sigh and hurried to the kitchen, returning a moment later with a towel and a bucket to collect the shards of shattered China.

"Thanks for your help," Jou muttered dryly as he dropped down beside Shuu to help mop up the spilt tea. Shuu looked at him from the corner of his eye.

"Have you completely forgotten what he's like?" he asked. "Did you honestly think he'd be happy to get you back and then let you go again?" Jou sighed and sat back on his heels, glancing over his shoulder towards his father's room. When he turned back, Shuu was staring at him with something like sympathy in his eyes. "You really wanna go back, don't you?"

"I… It's complicated," Jou sighed, careful to keep his voice low. "The Digital World chose us to defend it, and it needs us now more than ever. I can't walk away. People are counting on me." Shuu didn't say anything at first; he placed the last shards in to the bucket and took the damp towel from Jou, depositing both in the kitchen before coming back to perch on the arm of the sofa.

"He just… We don't want to lose you again," he said. "It's been four years, Jou. You're barely home and you're already talking about leaving again."

"Not leaving," Jou countered. "Just… visiting. Short trips, a few hours at most." Something shifted behind Shuu's eyes and he motioned for Jou to join him on the sofa. He slowly clambered up until he was perched on the edge of the pillows, watching Shuu who was studying him carefully. After a pause, Shuu sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses.

"I get it," he sighed at last. "You're a responsible kid, you always have been. And if people are relying on you to do what's right, then we shouldn't be trying to stop you." Jou's heart skipped a hopeful beat as he watched his brother carefully.

"Shuu?" he nudged. Shuu lifted his head and readjusted his glasses, staring down the hall towards their father's bedroom. After a moment he slid from the arm of the sofa down on to the pillows beside Jou, and he patted Jou's knee firmly.

"I can't promise much, but I'll try and help where I can. I can help cover for you with dad if you need it, and I might be able to help the other kids too. Pretend I'm supervising you on a road trip or a to a museum or… I don't know. But I'm here for you, Jou." Jou's eyes were burning and his throat felt too tight. He placed his hand on top of his brother's with a grateful smile.

"Thank you-"

"It comes with one condition," Shuu said firmly. He met Jou's gaze and flipped his hand so that he could squeeze Jou's fingers tightly. "You have to promise to do everything you can to come home, every time." It took a moment for the words to hit home, and once they did Jou nodded fervently.

"I will. I promise," he said eagerly. "I don't ever want to be stuck away from my family ever again." And he meant it; he really, really meant it, especially now that he didn't have to choose.

Shuu opened his mouth to speak but Jou's stomach got their first, releasing an ominous growl so loud Jou was sure he felt the floorboards shaking. He wrapped his arms around his empty stomach and looked up at his brother with a sheepish smile. Shuu laughed ad stood, reaching out to tousle Jou's hair before pulling him to his feet.

"C'mon. Let's get you some food and then get you to bed."

Takeru clenched his jaw to stifle a yawn and rubbed at the bridge of his nose to hide it. They'd stayed up all night, only going to bed in the early hours of the morning once their parents had made contact with their offices and cite a family emergency. They'd slept well past noon (no doubt Patamon was still sleeping, having rolled himself into a patch of sunlight just as they had left), but even so Takeru found himself wanting to crawl back on to the small futon in the lounge and pull the covers back over his head.

It was probably the beds, he thought to himself as his parents led the way towards a matching pair of singles. The bedroom department of a furniture store was definitely the worst place to try and stay awake in.

"These would be nice," Hiroaki suggested eagerly. Natsuko hovered over his shoulder with a frown.

"I don't think they'll fit. The room isn't that big…"

"I dunno…" he countered, measuring the length and width of the closest bed (despite the measurements being noted on a nearby pedestal with the price and various add-ons). "We could always place them lengthways from the far side of the room… put that small cabinet we saw inbetween for a nightstand. They're the same width as the wardrobes, and we already decided that we could fit one on either side of the door." Natsuko pursed her lips.

"It would be very cramped," she said. She turned to Takeru and Yamato with a frown. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather have bunk beds and more room?" Takeru shrugged and looked to Yamato who seemed more than a little unimpressed at the thought of bunk beds. Takeru tried not to laugh.

"I think we'll be okay," he said.

"Then it's settled!" Hiroaki exclaimed. He hunched over and curled his fingers under the mattress, lifting it straight up to reveal a hollow underneath. "Oh look – under-bed storage! That'll come in handy." Natsuko clicked her tongue with a smile and pulled the mattress back down.

"Come on," she said, scooping up several large shopping bags from the ground and nodding her head toward the sales desk. "If we hurry, we might be able to ask them to deliver everything today."

"Let's hope they have everything in stock," Hiroaki added. He turned back to Takeru and Yamato with a grin. "We'll be right back." Takeru watched them go, and once he was sure they weren't going to look back he finally unleashed the grin he'd been trying to smother all afternoon.

"I can't believe how happy they are together." Yamato grunted.

"All it took was us not coming home," he said dryly. Takeru's smile fell and he turned to his brother who was staring at something across the store. "C'mon."

"Where are we going?" Takeru asked, tightening his grip on the bags and weaving after his brother who was heading towards high-rise beds and… Takeru frowned. "I thought you said you didn't want bunk beds."

"I don't," he answered. That did little to help Takeru's confusion, though before he could ask any further questions he picked out two familiar voices that cut through the general hum of the store.

"What about this one?"

"It's a bit expensive."

"I told you we weren't worrying about price-"

"I'm happy with the sleeping bag-"

"Well I'm not," Taichi huffed, folding his arms and tilting his head towards the dark bunk beds behind him. "Let's get this one. You can take the drawers under the bed, which will save room and then we won't have to buy the – oh, hey!" Taichi grinned broadly as he spied them and Hikari quickly turned towards them, her confusion quickly melting in to a smile. Judging by her pale pink dress and her shiny brown boots (and the bags cradled in her elbows), Hikari had also been shopping.

Taichi closed the gap first, coming to a stop infront of Yamato. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Same thing as you, I guess," Yamato answered.

"Bunk beds?"

"Singles. Mom's moving her study in to the lounge." Taichi sighed and tucked a hand in to his jeans.

"My room's not big enough, and I don't think dad would appreciate us moving all his stuff without asking. Figure we'll just have to make do with bunk beds for a year or two," he said with a sigh.

"I don't mind," Hikari said quickly. "It'll be just like it used to be." Taichi turned to her with a victorious grin.

"So you agree that we should get bunk beds?" Hikari rolled her eyes.

"I agree it's probably the only way to get you to stop talking about them." Taichi nudged her lightly with his shoulder and she sighed through a fond smile. She met Takeru's eyes then, and Takeru felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. Something about her smile didn't seem quite right, but before Takeru could put his finger on it someone clapped a firm hand on his shoulder.

"There you are!" his father exclaimed. "We're in luck – one of the delivery vans just got back to the warehouse, so they're going to add our order on to their last run of the day. Ah, Taichi, do you need them to add an order in for you as well?"

With some quick talking from Natsuko, Taichi and Hikari's new bunk beds were added to the final delivery run. Hiroaki promised that they would swing by later to help Taichi put them together ("Many hands make light work," he'd laughed when Taichi had tried to protest) and then they'd gone their separate ways. Taichi and Hikari were heading home, but Takeru and Yamato weren't quite so lucky and their mother spent the next hour dragging them through a series of department stores until they'd bought nearly half of the shopping centre. Somehow they managed to fit everything inside the car, and they trundled through rush hour traffic to arrive minutes before the delivery team.

It took less than two hours to convert the small study in to a bedroom. Natsuko had been right – it was very cramped – but Takeru couldn't have been happier. Yamato was barely out of arm's reach (something Yamato also seemed to appreciate, even if he did his best to hide it), and Takeru sighed happily as he collapsed back on to his bed. His bed. His bed! No more makeshift palettes of blankets or leaves. No more huddling in caverns or caves. Now he had a bed with a thick, downy blanket and a plush pillow that had Patamon squealing with delight as he made a nest for himself, curling up and using his large ear as a blanket.

"No rest for the wicked," his father laughed, leaning against the doorway. Yamato's head appeared around the door of his wardrobe with a confused frown. "C'mon, lets head over and give Taichi a hand, eh?" Takeru propped himself up on his elbows.

"Won't we just be getting in the way?" he asked. "I thought Taichi said his room was smaller than ours?"

"Yes, but it's just the two of them, so they could probably do with an extra pair of hands."

"Just the two of them?" Yamato asked. His expression was dark and tense as he closed the wardrobe door. "Where are their parents?" Their father's smile fell a little and he ran a hand through his greying hair.

"It's… Their father's working out of town now, and their mother… she hasn't been well." Yamato's frown deepened and Takeru pushed himself up off the bed.

"Well then, let's go!" he said brightly, flashing his best smile to Yamato. The frown eased a little, but there was a sort of urgency in the way Yamato snatched the nearest hoodie and threw it on with the tags still attached. Takeru glanced back towards his bed. He might have invited Patamon, but his partner had already burrowed himself underneath the comforter and fallen asleep, and so Takeru smiled and left a candy bar on the nightstand before grabbing his jacket.

Before long they were pulling up outside an unfamiliar block of apartments, and Takeru followed his parents up the winding concrete stairs and along the exposed walkway to the Yagami apartment. Hikari let them in with a smile, and as she led them through to the kitchen Takeru could hear Taichi's muffled swearing coming from down the hall.

"I take it it's not going too well," Hiroaki chuckled as Hikari offered them tea and juice.

"He's still trying to figure out how to take his old bed apart," she said, placing several mugs and a box of assorted teabags on the kitchen table.

The sound of tinny, muted laughter drew Takeru's attention to the living room. The television was on, casting the woman before it in a pale, ethereal light. Takeru hadn't even noticed her at first, and he suddenly felt awfully rude that he hadn't said hello. Then again, she hadn't spoken either. Hadn't even acknowledged that there were guests in her apartment.

"Their mother… she hasn't been well…"

His father's words rang in his ears and he quickly turned away, but Hikari had noticed him staring. He caught her eye as she turned away, busying herself with rummaging through the cupboards. Natsuko placed a gentle hand on Hikari's shoulder.

"Why don't I sort the tea?" she said softly. Hikari looked as though she might have argued, but then something Takeru couldn't see passed over his mother's face and Hikari gave a small nod. She skirted around them on her way out of the kitchen, and something tickled Takeru's nose as she passed. It was a strange smell… It made him think of the beach, and a cold shiver ran up his spine. He tried not to stare, but he couldn't help but watch from the corner of his eye as Hikari coaxed her mother out of her chair and down the hallway. Yamato meanwhile was watching them very closely, and when Takeru turned to help his mother with the mugs Yamato's face was dark and troubled.

Another curse coloured the air and Hiroaki laughed.

"Perhaps we should go and give him a hand."

The sun had long since set by the time they'd taken down Taichi's bed and erected the bunk beds; a feat that might have been completed sooner had it not been for six people crowded inside the small room which made manouvering the pieces of furniture that much more difficult. Natsuko had appointed herself tea-maker, and had been popping in and out of the room with drinks and snacks. Hiroaki had spent much of the evening scratching his head over the instructions and calling out orders that were promptly ignored by Taichi and Yamato who were content to try and figure it out as they went along. Hikari and Takeru had been left to supervise the nuts and bolts and screws, and every time someone shouted out an order they clambered over the pieces of furniture to deliver it to them.

It had been nice and, in its own strange way, somewhat normal. This was what normal people did with their normal families; they fought over flatpack furniture and drank too much tea and stopped Taichi and Yamato arguing about whether part A needed to be completed before or after they worked on section 3. For a while Hikari let herself pretend that she was normal too. As she handed Taichi a screw, she pretended her mother was simply in bed with a small headache and would be right as rain by morning. As she handed Yamato a hammer, she pretended that her father was flying home from a business trip and that was why he hadn't answered Taichi's phone call. And when she caught sight of the pager on Mr Ishida's hip, she convinced herself the closest she'd ever come to anything digital was the computer in her father's study (which had most definitely never coughed up an egg the size of a toddler).

Unfortunately, the illusion ended all too soon. She was sitting empty-handed against the far wall with Miko curled on her lap when Takeru sat down beside her, having given Yamato the last of the plastic caps to cover the screw heads. Perhaps it was the tense silence that he brought with him, or the nervous way he hesitated before finally speaking, but it made Hikari's stomach twist.

"Are you okay?"

The question might have been fine if it hadn't been said so carefully, as though Hikari was likely to bolt if he spoke too loud or moved too quickly.

(Then again, who was to say she wasn't?)

She tried to smile, but she couldn't even convince herself and Takeru's face folded in to a concerned frown. She shrugged and turned her attention to Miko who had curled up in her lap.

"I'm all right," she said. His eyes darkened and his lips tightened in to a thin line, and she swallowed bile.

"Hikari-"

"I need to check on mum." She stood quickly, ignoring Miko's disgruntled mewling as the cat spilled on to the carpet beside Takeru. Takeru opened his mouth to speak, but then Taichi trapped his fingers against the wall with a yell and Hikari used the distraction to slip away. She darted across the hall and into her mother's room, closing the door quietly behind her. The room was dark, the only light coming from the gentle red glow of the alarm clock, and HIkari held her breath. Nothing stirred, and Hikari slowly sank down against the door and buried her head in her knees.

She couldn't stop the sob that ripped its way up her throat, and she stuffed the corner of her new cardigan into her mouth to keep from making a sound. She pressed herself against the door, curling in to a tight ball and burying her hands in her hair, tugging until her ears rang. It wasn't right for her to feel so sad when she finally had what she wanted; she was finally home, with Taichi and her parents, and yet she felt… she felt… There wasn't a word big enough to describe the shadow that had wrapped itself around her heart. It shouldn't matter that things weren't perfect; she wanted to be happy for what she had, but every time she paused – even for a moment – she found herself surrounded by eyes.

Taichi's concerned frown.

Her mother's vacant stare.

LadyDevimon's sudden confusion and hatred and fear before she flew off in to the sky.

And now there were others. Takeru looked at her like he could see how fractured she felt; like he knew how close she was to exploding. Yamato had been fixing her with knowing looks all evening, and the simultaneous urge to run to him and run from him had kept her rooted in place, unable to do either. Someone was always watching, and when it wasn't the eyes she knew it was the eyes she didn't. She felt them even now, watching her from the shadows.

A salty breeze brushed her cheek and she shivered, a half-choked sob dying in her throat.

"No," she whimpered, not quite loud enough to drown out the sound of distant waves. She pressed her forehead against her knees and clenched her eyes shut, clamping her hands over her ears. It only made the waves louder. "Not here. Please, not now."

"…Come to us…"

The voice crashed over Hikari in a frozen wave and she choked on water. She tried to open her eyes, but everything was a grey blur and she quickly slammed them shut again, trying to hold on to what little air she had left as the storm tossed her to and fro. She clawed against the tide, dragging her fingernails through the brine as she tried to figure out which way was up.

"…Chosen One…"

The heavy click of a door crashed through the waves as Hikari gasped. Air, hot and humid, flooded her lungs and she rested her head against the door. She was back in her mother's room, unsure of whether she'd ever left. Her clothes were dry but there was a salty taste in her throat that made her want to vomit. Her mother was sleeping soundly; Hikari could just hear her gentle breaths over the murmur of happy chatter from the bedroom across the hall. Keys fell in to a bowl.

"I'm home."

The exhausted voice was low and muffled, but it filled Hikari with a sudden unexpected warmth that washed the ice from her veins. She scrubbed her eyes and her cheeks and stood, her legs shaking as her hands fumbled with the doorknob. She spilled in to the hallway several steps behind Tachi and the others. They turned towards her, slowly stepping back to allow Hikari to see her father. His briefcase clattered to the floor, his mouth agape as he stood staring with one hand frozen around his tie.

"Hikari-"

She threw herself at him and he let out a surprised bark of laughter as they fell heavily to the floor. He smelled just as she remembered, of too much fabric softener and a smoky cologne that reminded her of how he used to make her laugh until her tummy hurt and how he would hold her tight when the needles came.

She heard Taichi showing their guests to the door, and then he joined them on the floor. Hikari found herself crushed in the middle, and she wouldn't have traded it for the world. She clung to them both, pulling them in closer, and suddenly she had the strength to do just about anything. She would rescue Tailmon – Agumon too – then she was save the Digital World from the Kaiser and save the Kaiser from himself. And this time, she promised herself, nobody would get left behind.