AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Guess who remembered today that DemiVeemon's original name was Chibimon… That's right. My bad. However: opinions needed! Would you rather we:

a) Stick to DemiVeemon. What's done is done, and it's really not that big of a deal; or
b) Go back and make the change to Chibimon

Answers on the back of a postcard (or, in lieu of giving you my address, in a comment or review). Majority vote wins!

In the meantime, thank you all for your love and support for this story. I hope you're all staying safe and well and I hope you enjoy today's update!

INSUBORDINATION

The heavily conditioned air of the baggage claim area was a cool and welcome change after 14 hours on a stuffy flight. Mimi's left foot still hadn't fully woken up, and she spent several long minutes hopping back and forth to try and restart the circulation while she waited for her suitcase. She was still hobbling when she spied it coming round the carousel, and she was grateful when a friendly American businesswoman helped her haul it on to its wheels.

It felt good to be home again. New York was nice, and after four years in The Big Apple she'd allowed it to take up residence in a special corner of her heart, but there was something about Tokyo that set her at ease. It was the little things, she decided; the small nod of the taxi driver as he loaded her suitcase in to the boot. The lace doilies over the headrests. The brightly coloured vending machines on every corner with bottles of her beloved peach water and Pocari Sweat. She almost asked the driver to pull over several times, only to shake her head. She was on a schedule, after all. She settled in to her seat and pulled out her phone, switching it back on to find two unread e-mails.

The first was from her parents. It had been a challenge to try and convince them that this really was nothing more than a long-overdue trip back home to see friends, and that there certainly wasn't any other reason for her sudden interest in returning home. Yes, she was going to stay in Odaiba the whole time. No, she didn't need a Rail Pass. Yes, she had clothing for all occasions and enough money in her savings account to see her through her trip. No, she wouldn't get mixed up in 'that digital nonsense' again. Her mother had written the e-mail, reminding Mimi that they loved her very much and were missing her already and asking her to let them know when she was safe. She quickly tapped out a reply and promised to update them as soon as she was settled in the hotel. They hadn't been able to afford to come with her, something she was both saddened by and grateful for, because it would have been a lot harder to hide that she was, in fact, getting involved in 'that digital nonsense' with them hovering over her shoulder.

The second email was from Sora. They had always endeavoured to keep in touch in the years since Mimi had moved away, often e-mailing once or twice a month with pleasantries and smalltalk, but since the gates had reopened they'd been e-mailing almost every day (or every other day, allowing for the time difference).

Koushiro hadn't managed to get his own gate online before the term had ended (he was, in his own words, "frustratingly close"), but he had managed to access the administrative files to see what summer clubs were using the lab and when, which was better than nothing. Mimi was secretly glad, as it meant they would be spending their anniversary weekend educating the newer Chosen Children on what it meant to be a defender of the Digital World. Brave though they may be, their ability to jump back and forth between the worlds hadn't quite given them the same trial by fire that Mimi and the others had been subjected to.

The Odaiba Hilton wasn't anything particularly grand – especially when compared to some of the hotels Mimi had stayed in in New York – but it had the benefit of being close enough to see Rainbow Bridge, and was barely a stone's throw from Shiokaze Park. Mimi checked in, bought a bottle of Pocari Sweat from the vending machine near the elevator, and quickly found her room. She tapped out another e-mail to her sleeping parents before checking the time, delighted to find that she was ahead of schedule.

She opened her suitcase and rummaged for her toiletries before heading for the bathroom and jumping in the shower to scrub away the cabin smell that had settled on her skin and replace it with sweet papaya. After towelling off she slipped in to an outfit that had been buried at the bottom of her suitcase away from her mother's prying eyes: a short white skirt and a cropped red and blue t-shirt bearing a single golden star. Her mother might have let her do a number of wild and wacky things (like dyeing her hair pink or piercing her ears twice), but she'd always been more of a conservative dresser. Mimi considered a pair of heels before settling on her white knee-high boots with the red straps around the ankles.

She glanced at the time again. A little later than she'd planned, but what better way to arrive than to be fashionably late? She threw the essentials in to a small clutch bag before leaving for the park.

Sora was the first to notice her; Mimi saw her staring from a mile off, squinting and tilting her head in confusion, and when Mimi gave her a smile and a wave Sora shot to her feet with a cry. Several heads snapped in her direction and soon everyone was standing, blinking in surprise or confusion (or both, judging by Jou's adorably bewildered expression – oh, how she had missed it).

"Ta-da!" she exclaimed. Sora quickly darted around the large picnic blanket and threw her arms around Mimi's shoulders.

"Why didn't you tell us you were coming?!" she exclaimed. Mimi squeezed her back tightly.

"Because then it wouldn't have been a surprise, silly!" Sora pulled back and Mimi wiped a stray tear from her cheek with a smile before turning to Taichi. "You are happy to see me, right?" He smiled – the kind of smile Mimi hadn't seen in such a very long time – and the tightness she'd been carrying in her chest for the last few years finally began to ease.

"Of course I am." And Mimi hugged him too, squeezing him extra tight for good measure. When they pulled apart his expression was troubled. "Listen, Mimi, about when you left-"

"Water under the bridge," she said with a smile and a dismissive wave – partly because it was, but mostly because her eyes hand landed on the two blonds behind him. "Oh – look at you!"

Yamato seemed almost exactly the same; a head taller, maybe (still taller than her at any rate), but his blue eyes were still so serious, hiding behind a lock of blonde hair that kinked across his forehead while the rest flicked out around his collar. Takeru meanwhile had shot up like a weed and was at a height with his brother, if not an inch or two taller. After giving them both a tight squeeze Mimi found Hikari and was relieved to see that at least someone was still shorter than her. She gathered the tiny girl in to her arms and hugged her tightly before smoothing the wrinkles from her jumper and admiring her wild ponytail.

And then there was Jou. He still towered over her – taller than anyone else in the group by far. The Digital World had stripped the last lingering curves of baby fat from his cheeks, leaving him with a chiselled jaw and a long, thin nose. Mimi had been half-expecting to still find him in the sharp sweater vest he'd been so fond of, and so the linen pants and navy button-down shirt were a refreshing surprise. She hugged him the tightest, and tried to ignore how hard it was to let go.

"Mimi!" he spluttered in surprise. She laughed and let him go then, tucking her hands behind her back with a grin. There was a flush in his cheeks now, and he adjusted the collar of his shirt nervously. "Y-You look good!"

"So do you," she answered sweetly, watching the colour in his cheeks explode in to his ears. Over his shoulder she saw Sora watching them with an expression that suggested she shouldn't try to push him too far (though there was the hint of a barely-smothered smile tugging at her lips). And so Mimi quickly moved on to Koushiro; they didn't hug, but Mimi did compliment his new computer bag before turning to the new members of their group.

Sora handled the introductions while Mimi took in her first impressions. She could see now why Sora had referred to Daisuke as a 'mini-Taichi' – the resemblance was uncanny, right down to the goggles that were almost lost in his wild hair. Iori was quiet and reserved, and he offered a respectable bow as Sora introduced him which Mimi carefully returned. Miyako was an explosion in almost every sense of the word; her lilac hair tumbled from beneath a burgundy cap, clashing with her lime t-shirt, and once she'd been introduced she immediately launched in to how she was so excited to finally meet Mimi, and that she'd heard so much about her, and she couldn't wait to hear all of her stories. Mimi grinned at her excitable energy, even as she noticed some of the others pulling away from the younger girl (not to mention the curious stares from the elderly couple strolling past nearby). When Sora suggested they all sit down again Mimi happily settled in beside Miyako, because if anyone knew what it was like to be loud and bubbly in this crowd, it was Mimi, and it would be nice to finally have some back-up.

The digimon hurried out of their hiding places then. Patamon barrelled in to Mimi's chest, hugging her as best his little legs would allow, and as she scratched behind his ear she was introduced to DemiVeemon, Upamon and Poromon.

"So, where were we up to?" Mimi asked once everyone was settled again.

"Vamdemon," Koushiro answered. Mimi beamed.

"So there are still lots of good bits left then!" she proclaimed, winking up at Jou and taking perhaps a little more delight in his crimson cheeks than she should have.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in glorious sunshine reliving the rest of their adventures. To Mimi, it felt like a long-overdue catharsis – the kind her parents hoped she would have found with the American therapists they had sent her to for six months before ultimately giving up. Her doctors – a panel of specialists within the field of child psychology – had listened and nodded and scribbled notes before comparing different theories. They didn't believe her, and after a while Mimi realised that she didn't want them to. And so she had stopped telling them about the Digital World and Palmon and their wonderful, terrible summer together. This was not a story for strangers and clipboards; it was a story for those who'd been there alongside her, and a story for those who were joining their little team.

As the battle of Apokarimon came to a close, the story split apart. Taichi told them of how they'd been tricked on to the trolley car by Gennai (and judging by the way he spat their former mentor's name, it seemed he wasn't entirely over it even with Hikari by his side). Yamato told them how he'd seen the car disappear in to the sunset from the peak of a mountain, while Jou said that he'd only found out the gate had closed after he and Gomamon had ended up at Primary Village some weeks later. Takeru hadn't seen the trolley car disappearing, but Patamon had flown above the trees and confirmed that the eclipse was over, while Hikari mumbled something about being almost close enough to see them.

As Miyako passed around several bags of food, Jou and the others took it in turns to talk about what had happened to them in the years since the gate had closed. Mimi knew some of their stories from Sora's updates, but it still saddened her to hear that they'd spent so much of their time alone. She'd always liked to imagine them happy and together.

"There's so much more to this than I ever thought," Miyako murmured as their stories came to an end. She hugged Poromon close to her chest. "Being a Chosen Child sounds tough."

"But rewarding," Sora said encouragingly. "Of course it's dangerous, but we've had more good times than bad. At least, for the most part…" A tense silence hung in the air as nobody seemed able to agree with her. Mimi shared their hesitation; their adventures within the Digital World might have made them stronger, and now that everyone was back home again she could say with near certainty that she wouldn't trade them for the world. A few weeks ago, however, and she would definitely have answered differently. She sat up taller, swallowing the last of her grapes as she glanced around the group.

"So, the Kaiser. What's happening with him?" she asked. Daisuke grinned, apparently eager to finally have something he could talk about.

"We got him on the ropes!" he exclaimed. "We've been knocking down spires all over the place, keepin' him on his toes."

"A shame that he keeps erecting them," Iori countered. Daisuke sulked.

"We're still knockin' them down faster than he's puttin' them up."

"He's not really done much lately," Taichi added in a more serious tone. "The last thing he really did was destroying Jou's camp and… well…" He glanced at Hikari who gave him a small reassuring smile.

"Have you heard from the digimon yet?" Mimi asked. Sora shook her head.

"Nothing, and we can't get in contact with them," she answered, her expression grim.

"We tried looking for them, but wherever they've gone they've covered their tracks well," Yamato added.

"If they even left tracks to cover," Jou mumbled under his breath. Mimi heard him nonetheless and she patted his knee.

"I'm sure they're just fine," she said firmly before turning back to the others. "There's really no chance that we can go looking for them today?" Koushiro shook his head.

"We can't. The computer lab is being used today, and I still don't have a working copy of the gate on my laptop." Mimi sighed and folded her hands in her lap.

"Well, I suppose it's for the best."

"It…is?" Koushiro asked. Mimi flashed him her favourite smile.

"It's my first day back in Japan in four years, and there are things I want to do before the jetlag kicks in and I pass out in my hotel room," she said. Koushiro's brow furrowed.

"Things like…"

"Things like shopping for a start!" The announcement was met with varying levels of surprise and confusion (aside from Sora who rolled her eyes with a fond smile). Yamato and Taichi shared a look of mock disgust and Mimi sniffed at them. "Well, you two can stay away, but Sora you promised that we'd go the next time I came back. And besides, poor Hikari looks like a wardrobe threw up on her." Hikari stared down at her leggings and baggy jersey (which, Mimi suspected from the Odaiba Middle School print, was likely Taichi's).

"I thought it looked okay," she mumbled.

"Sweetie, you're so cute you could pull off a bin bag, but don't you want to wear something a little more exciting? Besides, I haven't been shopping in Japan for – literally – years, and it's no fun to do it by myself. You guys are welcome to tag along if you want-" The boys couldn't uninvite themselves fast enough; Taichi made a face at Yamato who rolled his eyes at Takeru, while Koushiro hunkered over his laptop and Jou leant over his shoulder, Iori sat stunned, and Daisuke was silently cackling at Taichi's theatrics. Mimi pointed to Sora and Hikari. "-But you two aren't getting out of it. Or you, Miyako." The girl sat rigid, her eyes wide behind her glasses.

"M-me?!" she squeaked. Mimi nodded with a grin.

"You're one of us now!" Mimi said, squeezing her hand tightly.

"Which means you get dragged along to fulfil Mimi's mall urges," Sora added with a laugh. Mimi stuck out her tongue.

"I think you meant to say 'included'," she said, which only made Sora laugh more.

He should have been happy, he thought with a frown. He had finally achieved victory against the insects that had been swarming his world. Moreover, he'd finally managed to get under her skin – to finally make her falter after months of barely making her flinch. He cast his eyes over LadyDevimon and tried to feel some sort of pride, but if anything he felt only the heavy weight of guilt pooling in his stomach, and the persistent whisper in the back of his mind was all too quick to tell him why.

You destroyed her…

He'd returned to his base after his victory, both to fix the mess that was SkullGreymon and to bask in the glory of his newest conquest. He'd turned on his monitors to revel in his triumph, but the sound of her broken sobs echoing around his control room had sucked all the joy out of his prize. The ache in his chest had only eased when he'd sent LadyDevimon away, leaving him with a headache that started in the back of his neck and lanced up through his skull.

You're a monster…

One day, he would find out how to get rid of his pathetic conscience. It had no place in his strategy.

"M-m-master?"

Ken groaned. In the shadow of LadyDevimon, Wormmon was even more useless than before. The click-clack-click of his claws set Ken's teeth on edge.

"What?"

"There's something on the monitors," the digimon mumbled, tilting his head towards the screen. Ken rolled his eyes and turned his head. No doubt Wormmon had found a cave or a hole or something equally as useless.

Ken had created the scanner some weeks ago when he'd first run in to Motomiya and his plague of new faces in an attempt to find out where the insects were crawling in from in order to plug the hole. He'd quickly identified their access points – disguised as old television sets – and he'd wasted several days trying to figure out how they worked, to no avail. After failing to destroy any of the terminals he'd found, he'd planted a Dark Tower near each and set his strongest digimon to patrolling nearby, only to find new terminals popping up all over the map. They somehow had a knack of being wherever he wasn't, and their ability to pinpoint the gaps in his territory were frustratingly impressive.

The marker Wormmon wanted to show him was unlike any other on the map. It was a spot of fierce blue at the edge of a jagged mountain range that looked over a vast, empty plain. There was some sort of small village hidden in the mountains – a melting pot of weak digimon who hid in the ice and snow – but other than that there was nothing around for miles.

"Bring me an Airdramon," he ordered. He pulled on his gloves and snatched his goggles off the nearby console, glancing over his shoulder towards the shadows. "LadyDevimon, you will accompany me."

"Yes, master," she purred.

It didn't take long to arrive at the site, though Ken had to circle the mountains three times before finding anything of note. Something was carved in to the mountain – a circle divided in two by a wave that emerged on either side as a sharp spike. They landed below it and Ken finally found the source of the strange signal. It was long and bulbous, shaped like a head – a horse, or perhaps a wolf, though if it was a head it was no bigger than a dog's. It was black all over except for a line of gleaming gold triangles which reminded him of razor-sharp teeth. A silver and gold horn jutted out of the snout, jagged like lightning, and the symbol that was carved on the face of the mountain was emblazoned beneath the horn in a vibrant blue that seemed to pulse and shimmer as they approached.

"A Digimental," LadyDevimon said in a low tone. Ken glanced at her.

"Digimental…" He ran the word over his tongue, trying to understand why it sounded so familiar.

Digimental, up!

Ah, of course. It was what Motomiya and his gang had taken to shouting before their partners evolved, somehow bypassing the suppression of the Dark Towers. Ken turned to LadyDevimon. "You've seen this before?"

"No," she answered. "But it looks like others that I have seen." Ken didn't try to stop the smile that spread over his face.

"Imagine what I could do with this," he whispered as he reached towards it. "Perhaps this is the key that will finally allow me to overpower those pathetic-"

His fingers touched the cool metallic shell and pain tore its way up his arm. A force slammed in to his chest and sent him flying backwards. The electricity coursing through his veins seared his skin, leaving him blinded by the pain until he hit the ground heavily. He hauled himself to his knees, wheezing and peeling back his gloves. His skin felt seared, but there was no sign of damage. He glanced up at the Digimental, finding himself several feet away from where he'd been standing moments ago. LadyDevimon drifted towards him, an amused smirk pulling at her blackened lips.

"You knew that would happen," he spat as he dragged himself to his feet with a grimace.

"I did."

"Why didn't you warn me?"

"You didn't ask me to."

His breath hitched. He shouldn't have had to ask; the urge to protect him from known harm was hard-wired in to the coding of the rings and spirals. Allowing the Digimental to hurt him was a direct violation of the spiral's fundamental programming. But how?

He clenched his jaw; one mystery at a time.

He returned to the Digimental, approaching it carefully and crouching down beside it. He reached a hand out towards it again, but even before his fingers had touched the surface a warning jolt of static pierced his skin and he pulled his hand back with a curse.

"You won't be able to touch it," LadyDevimon drawled. "It can only be lifted by a Chosen Child worthy of bearing the Crest of Friendship."

"You dare tell me I'm unworthy of-"

"I don't see any friends around here." He straightened and turned to her with a glare, though it had little effect. If anything, she seemed almost amused.

"When I want your useless opinion, I will ask for it, but I wouldn't advise you to hold your breath." LadyDevimon's lips curled, but she remained silent as Ken returned to studying the Digimental. He didn't need it – he had towers and spirals and rings to give him all the power he desired – but why would those pathetic fools be any more worthy of these strange powers than he was? Why would this Digimental be eligible for them to claim, but not him?

"Someone placed this here to mock me," he grumbled. LadyDevimon shifted.

"This world doesn't revolve around you," she muttered under her breath, but he heard her nonetheless. Ken stifled a growl and curled his fingers in to fists as he turned towards her.

"I have warned you-"

"Do you know anything about the Digital World?" she asked, louder this time. She folded her arms and shifted her weight, popping a chain-covered hip as she sneered down at him. "You're not being mocked. The Digital World is simply defending itself-"

"Silence!" he ordered. He unclipped his digivice from his belt and squeezed it tight, strengthening his connection to the dark spiral around LadyDevimon's arm. She grimaced. "This is my world-"

"The Digital World isn't just some land to be conquered," she countered, her lips pulled back in a dangerous sneer. "It's a living, sentient thing. You think the return of the Chosen Children is a coincidence? They're a defence mechanism. The Digital World has called upon them to purge the virus that is the Kaiser-"

"Return to the base!" LadyDevimon froze, still as stone aside from the occasional twitch as she fought to disobey the order. He squeezed his digivice again and she finally submitted, turning on her heel and taking to the sky in silence. Ken clenched his jaw and called after her: "Send me Wormmon!" Annoying as the creature was, he at least followed orders. LadyDevimon's fading 'yes, master' drifted towards him on the breeze as she disappeared into the clouds.

A defence mechanism… It wasn't entirely dissimilar to theories he'd entertained himself. He had been playing the easy game, defeating digimon and planting his towers and easily overpowering the other characters in his story. It made sense that the game would need to level up at one point or another, and when new faces started to appear he'd first assumed them to be nothing more than new foes for him to fight. He'd dismissed the idea when he'd seen them at the soccer game, at which point he'd decided that they were instead players from another instance invading his server.

LadyDevimon's thinking was backwards, he decided. Her approach was a simplistic, reductionist method to try and comprehend facts beyond her understanding. She didn't have the knowledge that he did – didn't have access to the higher secrets Ken had been gifted that allowed him to create and control. She couldn't possibly know the real truths of this world; truths only Ken understood. A defence mechanism… It was a valiant attempt at an explanation, granted, but one that fell far short of the mark.

The greater and more immediate concern, beside that of the Digimental before him, was that she was fighting him. Talking back, disobeying his direct order for silence, allowing the Digimental to hurt him… His control over her wasn't as assured as he'd first thought. He'd known that she was strong – her previous form had more than proven that she was an above average digimon, even by Adult standards – but he'd never expected her Perfect form to be quite so troublesome. On the one hand she wasn't nearly as bad as SkullGreymon in that she was at least partly controllable, but her ability to undermine his control made her a threat; one that he would need to extinguish sooner rather than later-

"M-Master?" Ken jumped as Wormmon's voice pulled him from his thoughts, and Ken quickly hid his surprise behind a glare.

"I need this protecting until I can find a way to take care of it. Build something around it – build Fort Knox if you have to – and guard it with your life and the lives of any digimon you need. Those children cannot be allowed to get their hands on it." Wormmon nodded and scurried closer, examining the Digimental and its immediate surroundings. It was almost endearing watching the cogs of his little mind turn.

Ken snapped his fingers and Airdramon swooped down from the clouds to take him back to the base. Even if he couldn't have the powers for himself, there must have been some sort of key in the coding of the Digimental that would allow him to understand how this newer form of evolution worked. And once he understood that, he could update his suppression protocols. A simple patch to the network, and all his problems would be solved.

This world would be his, one way or another.

Miyako had never enjoyed spending time at the mall. On the rare afternoons when she didn't have school or a shift at her family's convenience store, she was on the first train out to Akihabara to raid the electronics stores, and she passed the major high streets without so much as a second glance.

It wasn't that she didn't want pretty clothes and fancy shoes. Quite the opposite, in fact, and she had several notebooks filled with cutouts of idols and magazine models dressed in the latest fashions. But her family ran a tight ship and an even tighter budget, and Miyako had spent the better part of her life in her siblings' hand-me-down clothing. The few times she ventured in to high street clothing stores were to peruse end-of-season sales, but when confronted with the choice of spending her hard-earned Yen on a shirt that would never fit the same after she'd washed it or a video game that promised countless hours of enjoyment, the choice was an easy one.

Mimi seemed to have no such reservations when it came to clothing. She dragged them on a whirlwind tour, visiting shops Miyako had never even heard of before, picking out clothes and shoes and bags with wild abandon. The price tags made Miyako's eyes bulge and her head spin. A handbag alone cost more than she could dream of earning in a month, even if she picked up all her siblings' shifts. Sora didn't seem phased by it and barely glanced at the tags in between laughing at Mimi's antics, while Hikari would sometimes squint down at the label before leaning in to Sora to ask, "Is this a lot?"

It made Miyako uncomfortable. She'd had the value of money drilled in to her since childhood, when her father would ask her to man the calculator to triple check the accounts with him at the end of every month. She tried to tell herself that it was disdain for Mimi's recklessness that made her stomach twist so painfully, but in truth it was a bitter feeling of jealousy.

She swallowed it as best she could, and whenever Mimi handed her some item of clothing to try on she would smile and admire it in the privacy of the changing room before sneaking it back out on to the rack. "It doesn't fit me right," she said when Sora caught her. "It's really not my style," she told Hikari. Finally, when it was Mimi catching her red-handed, she was able to squeak out: "It clashes with my hair."

Mimi had seemed to take it personally, and Miyako had wished the ground would swallow her whole. She'd been racking her brain for some excuse to leave when Mimi had plucked the outfit back off the discarded garments rail and thrust it back in to her arms, demanding to see it for herself. Miyako had reluctantly shuffled out of the dressing room in navy jeans, a ruffled burgundy shirt and a lightweight black jacket, and Mimi had squealed in delight.

"See? I told you I knew what would look good on you!" Mimi had exclaimed. Miyako had ducked back in to the changing room and slipped back in to her clothes, intent on putting the (admittedly gorgeous) outfit back where they'd found it, but Mimi had other plans. She swiped the clothes from Miyako's hands and took them straight to the counter without listening to a word of Miyako's protests.

"This one's on me," she'd said, handing a fancy-looking credit card to the clerk. Miyako had shuffled awkwardly while the items were rung up and charged, not wanting to make a scene, but when Mimi held out the bags for her to take Miyako found her arms glued to her sides.

"I won't be able to pay you back," she blurted, feeling heat rising in her cheeks. Mimi smiled and tilted her head.

"Well then it's a good job I won't be asking!" She thrust the bags in to Miyako's hands and looped their arms together, dragging her from the store. "Being a Chosen Child is tough, but at least you can look and feel fabulous while doing it. And trust me, good clothes are worth their weight in gold – you'll thank me when those jeans don't fall apart in the middle of a fight."

"But, I-"

"It's a gift," Mimi had stressed, squeezing her arm tightly. "A little welcome to the team present!"

The present ended up being three further outfits, two pairs of shoes, and a handbag that could turn in to a small rucksack if you looped the shoulder strap in the right way. Eventually Miyako had submitted, and had allowed herself to imagine how her sisters would envy her her wardrobe and how nice it would be to wear something that was new and totally, unquestionably hers.

The ordeal had been made somewhat easier when she realised that Hikari was being subjected to a similar treatment. She too had protested, telling Mimi several times that she and Taichi had been shopping and she already had a whole new wardrobe. Mimi replied that whilst Taichi hadn't exactly done a bad job, Hikari's wardrobe needed 'a woman's touch'. They had been walking past a women's boutique when Mimi had been struck by the sudden thought that Taichi probably wouldn't have even considered what Hikari would need to wear under her clothes. When Miyako had pointed out that it wasn't Taichi's job, and that surely Hikari's mother would see to that, Sora had suggested that she and Miyako go off to try and find if any of the nearby hair salons had availability for walk-ins – the last task on Mimi's list of mall goals.

They'd eventually found one a block away from the main shopping street. It was small and fairly new, and when Sora asked if they could squeeze in four cuts the woman at the desk had pursed her lips.

"It would be difficult," she said in a voice which suggested the real answer was a solid 'no'. When they remained silent, she flicked through her book again. "We might be able to do three before we close… but four… four would be very difficult."

"That's fine!" Mimi had chirped down the phone when Sora had called her with the news. "I had my hair done last weekend. You guys go ahead – Hikari and I will be there in just a minute. Ooh – maybe I'll get my nails done instead!"

And that was how Miyako found herself wrapped in a hairdresser's cloak with a stranger's fingers in her hair. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had her hair cut in a salon; it had become somewhat of a tradition for her sister Chizuru to trim the ends with kitchen scissors every other month or so, and Miyako couldn't wait to see how much different her hair would look in the hands of someone who knew what they were doing.

As the stylist led her away from the sinks and to a nearby station, Miyako caught sight of Hikari. She was sitting in the waiting area, staring down at her lap while she waited for a stylist to become available. Miyako wondered if Hikari was as tired as Miyako felt – they'd only been in the mall a few hours and already Miyako's shoulders and feet were aching. She certainly looked tired, Miyako thought, judging by the way her shoulders drooped and how her eyes were half-closed and the way she flickered like a bad TV signal-

Miyako froze, turning fully towards Hikari. A stylist was approaching, and Hikari lifted her head with a bright smile, allowing the stylist to drape a cloak around her shoulders and lead her to the wash basins. Perhaps it had been a trick of light, Miyako thought. After all, people didn't flicker.

(People also didn't make a habit of disappearing inside computer monitors to battle digital monsters.)

Miyako's stylist was staring at her, and Miyako ducked her head and quickly shuffled in to the seat that had been pulled out for her. Soon she was distracted by the stylist who asked her questions – What was her daily hair routine? Did she prefer to wear it up or down? What did she think about bangs? – and then the stylist got to work. Miyako couldn't see Hikari from where she was sitting, but she could hear snippets of conversation and laughter from her and Sora who seemed to be sitting near to each other, and the knot in her stomach loosened a fraction. A trick of the light, an overactive imagination, and more than a pinch of exhaustion – that's all it had been, Miyako decided.

By the time Miyako was finished, she found Mimi and Sora in the waiting area surrounded by bags. Sora's auburn hair had been chopped in to layers that gleamed like burnished copper under the salon lights. Mimi shot to her feet when she spotted Miyako.

"See! I told you you'd look great with bangs," she said with a proud smile. Miyako ran a hand through her silky hair nervously.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you," she babbled. "I know you said you won't ask, but this is – I mean – I can try and get you a family discount. At my store. My parents' store. It's just a convenience store, but the onigiri are really good, and we have a pretty good stationery section-"

"Miyako – breathe," Mimi laughed. "You don't owe me anything."

Hikari arrived then, and Mimi squealed at the sight of her. Her long hair was gone, replaced by a short choppy cut that barely reached the base of her neck at the back. The hair at the front was longer, and the side-swept bangs dipped just below her jawline.

"You look adorable!" Mimi gushed. The receptionist appeared with her bags and her coat, and Mimi followed the woman back to the counter to settle their bill.

The street was much quieter by the time they left the salon, and the sunlight had turned to a hazy shade of gold. Mimi had taken the lead, determined to find at least one more store for them to browse before turning in for the night, and Sora was keeping pace and trying to talk her out of it.

"It's late, Mimi. Why don't you come back to mine for dinner? I'm sure my mom won't mind if I call ahead now and let her know."

"But Soraaaaa…"

Miyako was finding it hard to keep up. Her feet were on fire, and every step sent a murmur of pain running through her knees. Hikari was walking beside her, equally exhausted. She met Miyako's eye and offered her a tired smile. A breeze brushed Miyako's arm and she shivered.

"Hey, Hikari…" she began. (She was nervous. Why was she nervous? She and Hikari weren't exactly as close as Sora and Mimi, but after the last week or two they were definitely no longer strangers. She was right to feel concerned, wasn't she? Even if she couldn't figure out what she was concerned about.) "Are you okay?" Hikari smiled and nodded.

"I'd be a little better if I could feel my fingers," she laughed, glancing down at the bags in her hands. Miyako laughed and quickly agreed.

She must have imagined it, Miyako decided as they all went their separate ways. She tried to set the memory aside but it stuck with her for the rest of the evening, keeping her distracted as she helped Mantarou prepare dinner and when she settled in to a hot bath to soothe the aches from her bones. It was just a trick of the light, she told herself as she slipped in into bed as Poromon turned out the light. She hugged her partner close to her chest and buried herself under her blankets, trying to think of anything else, but as she drifted in to sleep she watched her friends and family flicker and fade one by one until she was left alone in the dark.

"I can't breathe!"

Takeru stumbled in to the kitchen in a teary haze, just about able to reach for a clean glass and fill it with cold water as Yamato stumbled in behind him, laughing and wheezing all at once.

"Not water," his brother laughed. He pulled the glass from Takeru's hand and replaced it with another. "Here, drink this." Takeru gulped it blindly, choking on the unexpected thickness.

"Milk?" he spluttered. Yamato laughed and poured a glass for himself.

"Water won't do you any favours," he said, closing the fridge and taking a sip. Takeru brushed the last of the tears on the back of his hand before draining the glass.

"What is wrong with you?" Takeru wheezed. The milk had helped a little, but there was still a searing heat lining his throat, making it difficult to speak. Yamato shrugged.

"I like my food hot."

"Hot? I feel like I've got a family of Meramon living in my stomach!" he proclaimed as Patamon swept in to the kitchen, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Takeru! Are you okay?" he asked. Takeru laughed and held out his arms to catch his partner. Patamon burrowed against Takeru's shirt, blinking his large blue eyes up at him, and Takeru laughed despite the pain in his mouth.

"I'm fine, Pata," he said, scratching his partner behind the ear. The front door clicked and Takeru heard a heavy sigh that could only belong to their father.

"I'm home," he groaned, and Takeru heard him collapse heavily against the couch. He shared a glance with Yamato who was frowning at the doorway, and together they moved in to the lounge.

"Is everything okay?" Takeru asked as he sat on the edge of the nearest armchair with Patamon cradled in his arms. Their father ran a hand over his weary face.

"Just a weird day at the station," he sighed. "Half my staff are talking about handing in their notice, and the ones that aren't might just be going crazy. I walked in to Wantanabe's office earlier today and he was burning sage and muttering about spirits and ghosts…"

"Maybe he's been working too hard," Yamato suggested. Hiroaki shook his head.

"He's not the only one. Ryotaro and Natsuki are going around telling everyone there's a ghost in the computer. And then there's Nobu in the sound department – came running in to my office this afternoon telling me the sound had disappeared. He was in the middle of editing and suddenly all he could hear was… I can't even describe it. He thinks the station's haunted too."

"What do you think?" Takeru asked. Hiroaki glanced between them then, the answer written in the lines of his face. Yamato perched on the arm of Takeru's chair with a frown.

"You think it's something digital." Hiroaki sighed and nodded.

"I think everything's something digital. Always have, ever since…" He gestured towards them and Takeru felt his stomach twist. Hiroaki gave him a tired smile. "I mean, I'll admit, I've seen things around the office. A shadow, or something moving in the corner of your eye… I thought it was just some of the new interns, things always get interesting this time of year until they settle in, but now I don't know what to believe." Takeru glanced at Yamato who hummed thoughtfully.

"We were planning on visiting the station tomorrow," said Yamato. "The new kids are coming too, so we'll have Patamon and their partner digimon with us. If it's something digital, I'm sure we'll find it." Their father grimaced.

"I don't like the idea of you boys getting yourselves in to trouble," he grumbled, "but I guess I can't stop you. Your mother might be a different story if she finds out."

"She called earlier," Takeru said. "She won't be back for another couple of days. Apparently her article is taking longer than she expected."

"Who knew toilet paper could be so fascinating?" Hiroaki laughed. He leant forwards and reached in to his briefcase. "Will you boys be all right if I disappear for a while? Kimi at work gave me these meditation tapes and I figured I'd give them a try." Yamato leant closer, examining the cassette with a bewildered frown.

"Sounds of Africa?" he asked. Their father nodded and loaded the cassette in to the player, fiddling with the tangled cable of his headphones.

"It's a soothing recording of wildebeest on the move," he answered. "It's supposed to help with stress and, well, I'm willing to try just about anything at this point. I'll be right here if you need me, but – if you don't mind…" He slipped the headphones in to his ears and closed his eyes, loading up the tape with a deep calming breath and pinching his fingers together. "I am a wildebeest. A happy little wildebeest. I am a wildebeest…"