a/n: ahahhaha depression look here i am i bEAT YOU kill me yourself bitch (sorry guys i love you i will have more details on my profile later maybe i think)


Ch 15 || Jigsaw

The SD card from Hikari's camera was still inserted in Koushiro's laptop. Koushiro had been so distracted by this new discovery that he hadn't removed it, even after the files had been copied onto his computer.

Miyako wondered if he just hadn't noticed yet, or if it'd slipped his mind entirely. But then, Hikari left nearly thirty minutes ago—and she wasn't due to come back for at least another hour. No need for him to rush.

And yet Koushiro rushed still. He moved as if someone sat next to him with a timer. Like some invisible, impossibly heavy amount of pressure rested on his shoulders.

Jeez. And Daisuke calls me intense.

Koushiro wasn't the only one acting like someone was pointing a gun to his head. Iori and Ken were also in the room, dreadfully quiet, and it took everything in her not to sigh. What was the point of them staying behind instead of going with Hikari if they were just going to sit around in silence?

Alright, so Iori's and Ken's reason for staying was pretty noble. They were worried about the whole Mirrormon situation, and she couldn't say she blamed them. Mirrormon was a monster emerging from Hell itself, it seemed, and with the theory that Takeru was linked to him…

Miyako winced internally and frowned. Takeru really was acting strange, and she didn't want to be dramatic here, but she was worried. Even as they walked over to Koushiro's place, she could see just how heavy the weight of Mirrormon's looming presence was on her friends' shoulders.

Hikari smiled that sweet smile of hers, but it didn't reach her eyes. Iori looked like his mind had traveled thousands of miles away, looking down at the concrete as he walked. They met with Ken at the station after hearing Hikari's discovery on her camera because he wanted to help however he could.

And… and even Ken looked bothered by something. The sadness in confusion reflecting in the gazes of her comrades was almost too much to bear.

It… it seemed like they'd already lost. And Miyako wasn't sure what—or, she dared to think, whom—it was that they lost, but the effects of the predetermined defeat were already devastating.

She was almost wishing Daisuke could have joined them. He'd had some kind of obligation with his parents from which he couldn't escape, but… but Daisuke was like a bundle of pure, unfiltered energy. He could put a smile on anyone's face.

It was something he and Takeru had in common. But where Daisuke used humor and basically turned himself into a clown to cheer someone up, Takeru was gentle in his encouragement. Warm. His optimism was soft and quiet, but steady and effective in its delivery.

And of course, neither of them is freaking here right now.

Yeah, sure, it wasn't fair for her to think that. It wasn't like they'd missed going on purpose—the decision to walk to Koushiro's place with Hikari was more impulsive than anything else, and it wasn't mandatory.

Still. This silence was annoying, and she hated that two of her closest friends were just sitting here moping like somebody had just died.

Her foot tapped repeatedly and swiftly against Koushiro's bedroom floor—a quiet echo of her impatience. But as soon as the thought of death crossed her mind, a violent chill crawled down her spine like a spider.

I'm giving myself the creeps, she thought with an internal groan. Ok, it's up to you, girl. Be optimistic. Show them there's hope.

Except the only thing that came out of her mouth was, "Guys, are you going to just sit there and pout, or are you going to do what you came here to do—come up with theories?"

All three boys jumped in surprise, and even Koushiro turned around to face her with a stunned expression.

Heat bloomed in her cheeks. Not what she'd intended to happen, but what the heck? She didn't have a choice but to roll with it now.

"What?" she challenged, with a (hopefully) nonchalant shrug. Her gaze drifted back and forth, back and forth between Iori and Ken. "That's what you both wanted to talk about, right? Mirrormon?"

Ken looked down at his hands shamefully with pinkened cheeks. "We did say that, huh?"

"Mm." Iori nodded subtly. "Yeah."

"So what're we waiting for?" Miyako crossed her arms. "Let's get talking!"

"I was, ah, saving the conversation for when Yamato called me back," Koushiro admitted, pulling his fingers away from his keyboard to scratch his neck sheepishly. "It seemed—"

"Koushiro, you don't honestly believe that he's going to talk to you civically? You don't think he'll try to rip your head off?"

A long pause, during which neither of the boys spoke.

"Yeah," she finished softly, deflating. "Thought so."

"You know he's just worried, right?" Iori whispered. "About Takeru…"

He left the sentence hanging, but they all knew what he was referencing. It towered hauntingly over their heads, and though he seemed invisible at the moment, Mirrormon's threat was so intimately real that Miyako was getting chills again just thinking about it.

"I don't blame him," Ken said finally, gently. He drew his legs up to his chest, resting his chin on his knees and gazing downward once again. "Takeru's… he's in a tight spot, isn't he? And… I think Yamato's afraid of… losing him…"

Something lingered deep in his voice, buried beneath soft-spoken neutrality. Miyako's heart stumbled and began to sink, but she caught it just in time.

Of course. Right. A knot formed in her throat. She'd found out about Osamu by complete accident—one of the first times she'd been in his home, she saw a picture. They looked alike; she's assumed he was a cousin or something, and had said as much.

She'd been floored when she found out the truth. Sure, her siblings were kind of a pain, but Ken…

"Something's just…" Iori, from his place against the wall, looked like he was about to be sick. "...aside from what Yamato disclosed to us… even before we knew about that… something felt… strange."

Koushiro seemed intrigued by his words. "...care to elaborate?"

Iori didn't look like he wanted to. A sharp sense of guilt stabbed Miyako from the inside.

She'd wanted to help them out. But she opened her big mouth and just made everything worse.

What. The. Hell, she thought. How in the world do you boys do it?

"Sorry," she murmured, gazing down at her socks. "I shouldn't have pushed you guys. Of course you've got a lot on your mind. I was just… frustrated, sitting in silence."

"No, you were right." Ken turned his head to look at her with a tiny smile. "We were supposed to ask questions. It'd probably be best if we try to figure out as much as we can based on the new information we have before we get ahold of Yamato. Maybe we'll be able to answer any questions we have."

"And you've mentioned that Hikari showed you the photos on her camera…" Koushiro trailed off thoughtfully, before adding, "...what're you three thinking?"

"I'd like to know what you're thinking, Mr. Let's Wait Until Yamato Calls Me," Miyako said. "Hikari said—"

"I'm still thinking," Koushiro said in defense. "You… at least one of you spotted the differences, I assume?"

Miyako's gaze flickered to Koushiro's computer screen. The photos were still pulled up, though she couldn't see them in detail from where she sat next to Ken on the floor. Before she could reply, Ken timidly said, "Hey, wait a second… Iori?"

"Yes?"

"What do you mean?" His voice was gentle. Careful. "You said you felt something… strange?"

Iori paused, inexplicably hesitant once again. He met Ken's eyes, and then Miyako's, and swallowed nervously.

Miyako fought the urge to raise her brows. She'd known Iori since they were children. It wasn't like he was immune to fear—his morals, after all, were very important to him, and so she knew that straying from them caused him anxiety—but he was the kind of person who always seemed composed, even for his age.

Sure, Iori seemed to have a secret sense of dry humor. Takeru's just-barely-secret troll side was definitely wearing off on him. They were Jogress partners, after all, so—

Oh. Oh, crap.

She repeated it out loud, eyes widening as realization hit her. It was like she'd finally found the correct place to put her puzzle piece. "Of course!"

Ken gave her a surprised, perplexed look; and he wasn't the only one. Koushiro looked equally confused and hedged, "Um… of course, what?"

Miyako's gaze remained fixed on Iori. "You feel something, don't you? Through the Jogress bond?"

Iori rubbed the backs of his fingers like they itched. Ken's and Koushiro's attention now shifted back onto Iori like the four of them were playing some kind of ping-pong game.

"Is that true?" Koushiro pressed curiously. "When did it start? Why didn't you say anything before? We c—"

"Hey, um, Koushiro?" Ken interrupted shyly. "He… he may not want to talk about it." And then, to Iori: "Are you feeling ok? You're… pale."

Miyako studied him. Ken's statement was true, and Miyako couldn't determine whether it was because he wasn't feeling well or if he was just nervous. He was typically one of the calmest, level-headed kids on the team.

Which made his silence all the more unsettling.

"You… you still feel it, don't you?" Iori asked eventually, his voice faint and small. "The… connection?"

Slowly, as if feeling some sort of invisible resistance when he moved, Iori's hand came to rest on his chest, over his heart. Fisted his fingers into his shirt.

Almost instinctively, Miyako did the same. He didn't have to elaborate any further. Didn't even have to specify that he was talking about the Jogress connection. She already knew.

The synchronized heartbeat when their digimon evolved together. When she dozed off. When she spaced out.

The unwanted, chilling feeling that crawled up her spine when Hikari was in danger.

The muggy fog in her brain when Hikari felt unwell, physically or mentally.

The hollow ache in her chest when she didn't see Hikari after a certain period of time.

The Jogress bond felt so natural, so effortless, that she didn't mind when Hikari occasionally stopped by; she knew the friendship was mutual, given all the times she'd escaped to Hikari's (blessedly) quiet apartment. It was intimate in a comfortable, non-sensual way; nothing physical, or romantic, or strange. They still had boundaries and valued each other's privacy. They still knew how much was too much, and when they shouldn't pry. She couldn't recall the last time she and Hikari fought. Probably not since the day of their first Jogress evolution.

When that happened, it had been so surreal. The way she felt that day was so otherworldly, so different, so foreign. After all, Miyako (though she wouldn't admit it) was not someone who made friends easy. She was too loud. Too blunt. Even too 'bitchy', according to her older brother.

To have a bond like the two of them shared… it was a dream. Hikari was one of her best friends. They were polar opposites, and yet they fit together like puzzle pieces.

Now, after three years, it didn't feel like their friendship was abnormal at all—it was so relaxably easy that she didn't consider it any different than an ordinary friendship. It was something they both considered normal.

Unless something was wrong.

Unless either of them was going through something immeasurably haunting.

Unless the battle called for strength beyond what their adult-level digimon had.

Unless something dreadfully, gastronomically bad happened.

"Oh."

She wasn't the one who spoke. It was Ken, his voice so faint and so soft that it sounded like a mere hum. Koushiro sat quietly at his desk, but the way his eyes grew wide, bit by bit, millimeter by millimeter, told Miyako that he had figured it out. He opened his mouth and then closed it, and for once, Miyako thought he had no idea what to say.

Which was saying something. She'd known Koushiro (and admired him, ever since her elementary days) for years, and he always had something to say. He was always asking questions, always curious, always wanting to know more, more, more.

And suddenly that curiosity was replaced by unease and awkward tension, and if something else that she considered 'normal' in her life shifted—even if just a little—then she'd lose what little sanity she had left.

"Is it bad?" she couldn't help but ask, her voice a crackling whisper.

It was stupid that she couldn't talk any louder considering she was the one who forced them into conversing in the first place, but… but she couldn't help it.

These were people who were normally so formal, so composed. Seeing them act differently was just… it was weird.

"It… doesn't hurt," Iori explained finally, though his gaze remained fixated on the wooden panels that lay beneath them as he spoke. "I can just… I had no idea he was sleepwalking, but… the moment I…"

Iori bit his lip, trailing off. No one else in the room urged him to continue, and the silence that engulfed the group was horrifically uneasy. Deafening. Painful.

"He came out of the forest, and… and it didn't feel like Takeru," Iori went on without warning. "I… I didn't mention it because Yamato was already hysterical, and so was Hikari, and they're still acting that way, but… but I… I felt like I was looking… at a stranger, for a moment."

He pulled his knees up tighter to his chest, crossing his arms over his shins and hugging them close. Then he shuddered like he was cold.

"And then it was gone. I figured I was just being… I don't know. I thought it was just me because Takeru started acting normal after that. But… but yesterday…"

"...he hasn't been acting like his usual self," Ken murmured. "I… I don't know Takeru as well as you or Hikari, but… he's usually so cheerful. I've… always admired that about Daisuke and Takeru. They're always smiling and finding a way to keep everyone in good spirits."

"Yeah," Iori whispered. "Except yesterday, he was… like a shell."

"What do you think it means?" Miyako asked, looking back and forth between Ken and Iori.

"...I don't know. But whatever… whatever happened in the forest, it… I think it changed him." Iori paused to swallow, and then added, "I've always felt… drawn to him, in a sense? When… when the Jogress evolution happened, I thought it couldn't be possible. There was still so much I didn't know about him. But I realized… he's like me."

The last part of Iori's confession was so quiet, so young, so vulnerable. Like he was sharing information that was considered top secret, and he'd get into trouble if he got caught. The way he refused to meet anyone's eyes only proved it.

"...what do you mean?" Ken repeated gently.

"He's lonely and misunderstood."

Some part of Miyako felt unreasonably hurt by Iori's statement. It was selfish and stupid, but she couldn't control the wave of anguish that swept through her. She was his friend. She'd been his friend for a long time.

Except… having friends didn't mean you couldn't be lonely. Iori was her friend, yes, but he was at least three years younger than her, almost four. He never talked about having any other friends. He'd lost his father at a young age, and the digital world forced them to grow up earlier than they should have, but...

But Iori…

...and Takeru… and Ken… and Koushiro, and Mimi, and Taichi, and Jou, and Sora, Hikari, Yamato…

They'd been to the digital world before. They'd faced losses Miyako couldn't even imagine. The digital world always felt like a dream to her, but… but the older kids, they'd fought to survive.

How old had Takeru been? Seven? Eight? What would—

"...Yamato mentioned that, previously," Koushiro told them in a low, awkward voice. His shoulders were slumped like he was trapped somewhere in his studies and couldn't figure out how to move on. Interacting with people, she knew, was not his specialty. "Their, uh, their mother… hasn't been around."

Iori hummed, and Takeru's home life was not brought up again. Maybe that was out of respect—the Chosen all came from different situations and environments, after all. She was lucky enough to be raised in a family that was considered middle class. She had three siblings and her parents were happily married.

Iori didn't have a father and was an only child. It was just him, his mom, and his grandfather.

Ken had lost his brother, forcing him into the role of an only child. He'd been so pressured by his parents to follow in his late sibling's footsteps that it drove him, literally, inevitably, into insanity.

I've got no right to feel sad about this, she thought with a scowl as she looked back at the floor. I'm not the one struggling. Get a freaking grip. Do you know how selfish you sound right now?!

"I used to think the same thing, you know," Ken told the group softly. "About Daisuke."

Miyako was stubbornly blinking back tears. She had no right to cry. Instead, she swallowed with difficulty and croaked out, "...yeah?"

He nodded. "I thought… we're so different. I… sometimes I don't… remember… what I did. Sometimes it's just… black. And it's lonely there. I didn't want to drag Daisuke down into that darkness. I didn't want to… taint him. But…" A self-deprecating, dry chuckle. "...Daisuke doesn't listen. Daisuke only does what Daisuke wants. He marched up to that darkness, and he just pulled me right out."

"You know that's what this is all about, don't you?" Miyako spoke on instinct, without a filter, without even a sense of direction. The tears she so desperately blinked away rolled down her cheeks, hot and salty. "Hikari thought the same thing. She… she never talks about it, but I can feel it. I know she's always been haunted by something, even if she doesn't tell me what it is. I refuse to let her stay alone in that shadow. What kind of friends would we be if we just left each other in the dust?"

She hiccuped, wiping harshly at her eyes and nearly knocking her glasses off into her lap. "Don't you… don't you guys see that? Are you that freaking blind? We help each other out because you don't deserve to feel lonely! Nobody deserves that!"

"Miyako—" Ken began with a startled expression.

"I don't give a damn, Ken, about what you did," she went on without even acknowledging the fact that he was trying to get a word in. "Because it's obvious you'll never forgive yourself for it, and that's enough punishment in itself, isn't it? You can't tell me Daisuke doesn't see that. Yeah, he's annoying sometimes, and he gets on my nerves like nobody's business, but of course he'd climb down and pull you out! We're a team! That's what team mates do! That's what friends do!

"And… and I don't get it." She sniffled and rubbed her nose. "I'll probably never get it. My parents aren't divorced; they're together, and they're alive, and so are my siblings. And I didn't go to the digital world when the rest of you older kids did, Koushiro, so I can't say I know what it's like to play Kill or Be Killed. That… that sucks. I don't understand, and you guys don't have to talk about it like you know I don't understand. But… but let me freaking try, ok?"

The three boys were stunned into silence by her outburst, and despite that she kept brushing away the tears and choking down the sobs, her voice was still hoarse and the tears wouldn't stop. But she wasn't done.

"I'll be damned if I'm just gonna sit here and let you all suffer by yourselves. Friends help each other out, even when they're not asked to! That's why Daisuke cares so much about you, Ken, and that's why Takeru's your Jogress partner, Iori. Because they can… they can feel it regardless. There are things friends don't understand, but there are things we do get. So—"

She looked at Iori and Ken with a watered-down, red-webbed scowl.

"—so don't freaking act like we're just oblivious to your pain, ok? We're not. I'm… I'm not. I'm not."

Miyako was breathing heavily by the end of her speech, face most likely blotchy and red, but she didn't care. She didn't have the capacity to care at the moment. She couldn't just sit here and listen to her friends wander through this melancholic dark haze, and she couldn't just sit here and pity herself. If she didn't say anything, it'd kill her.

Still, the boys didn't respond right away. Miyako's gaze dropped down to her lap as she brushed away stray tears with the base of her palms, this time succeeding in knocking her glasses off her face.

The door creaked. Miyako didn't bother looking up. She'd probably made a lot of ruckus when she exploded, and so it wouldn't surprise her if Izumi-san—

"That's my girl."

Hikari. Hikari had returned, and she'd slipped through Koushiro's door. Before she closed it, though, she bowed politely and said, "Thank you for letting me in, Izumi-san."

Miyako blinked. She was dumb-founded, gaping at Hikari like she'd materialized out of thin air. It wasn't until she sat on Miyako's other side, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and leaning against her, that one of the boys finally spoke up.

"...I'm sorry," Iori said with his head bowed forward. Miyako swore she heard him sniffle, but she must have imagined it. He went on: "I'm sorry for being impolite. It was rude of me to—"

Miyako laughed wetly. "Iori. Have you met me?"

"We weren't trying to exclude you," Ken said, still looking stunned by her outburst. "I… I honestly didn't mean… to imply that you didn't understand."

Great. Now she felt like a jerk. "No, it… you didn't do it on purpose. I just—hey, wait, Hikari, you sneaky fox! How much did you hear?"

"Enough to know that you're completely right," she answered. Then, to Koushiro: "Any word from Yamato?"

Koushiro jumped like her words were tangible weapons that could cause him harm. Awkwardly, he sat up straight, clearing his throat and looking at his cell, which lay untouched his desk.

He tapped it twice to wake it up, and then sighed. "Ah, no, he… he hasn't responded just yet…"

"He's… at his mom's," Hikari said slowly, with a smile that whispered of sadness and sympathy. "They're together. Takeru… he messaged me, but he seemed happy, so I didn't bring up the pictures just yet…"

She trailed off, and once again they descended into silence. This time, it wasn't long before someone broke it.

"It's unavoidable, isn't it?" Ken whispered.

"...yeah," Hikari said with a nod. "It is. He's gonna find out. I think… I think Yamato's just trying to protect him, for the moment. That's probably why he hasn't said anything. He hasn't talked to his mom since he found out he was moving."

"...I see," Koushiro said, with a tinge of awkwardness still lingering in his voice.

"But also…" Hikari turned back to Miyako, her smile widening into something warmer. More gentle. "Miyako?"

"Hmm?"

"I… I think you're right. About everything you said."

Now that the adrenaline was fading, Miyako wasn't sure she felt the same. She laughed bitterly to herself. "I dunno. Sometimes I don't think before I open my mouth."

"I… I actually think you're right, too," Ken said, smiling apologetically at her. "I'm really lucky to have Daisuke, and all of you. I don't know where I'd be without you guys."

"Funny," Hikari said, giggling again. "Daisuke says the same thing about you."

"...he does?"

"Oh yeah," Miyako confirmed with a snort. "Have you seen how he acts when you're not around? He's like a lost puppy."

"Miyako," Hikari chided, patting her disapprovingly on the shoulder, but then she paused. "...actually. Daisuke acts a lot like a puppy. He's very loyal."

"And energetic," Iori said dryly, though a ghost of a smile graced his lips. "But very loyal."

"And if you leave him alone, he'll leave the house in a state of chaos," Miyako added.

"...that's also true."

"And he's also always wanting to jump around and play."

"And when he's done something he knows he couldn't have, he gives that puppy dog face. You know, the one that…"

Hikari paused to mimic a pouting face, which only made Miyako laugh harder and Iori smile wider.

"His energy is quite infectious," Koushiro added sheepishly.

"He's a good person," Ken concluded, with a soft, fond expression.

"As are you, you freaking dummy," Miyako said, shoving him playfully.

This. This was what she loved so much. This was what she was used to. Her friends, laughing and joking around. All they needed now was for Takeru and Daisuke to walk in and complete the circle.

"...guys?" Iori said abruptly, suddenly looking at Miyako with eyes that were all guilt and shame.

"Oh gosh, don't look at me like that," Miyako said. "We just established that that's Daisuke's face."

Iori's lips twitched, but he didn't smile again. "I… I just wanted to apologize to you, Miyako-san. You're… you're one of my closest friends, and I never meant to make you feel as if I was keeping secrets from you."

Her eyes burned again and she hastily looked away, cheeks burning. "Ugh. Ew. No, I'm not gonna cry again. That's not happening."

Even Ken chuckled at that. Hikari's arm suddenly disappeared from around her shoulder, and then she was being handed a box of tissues.

"Thanks," she said, plucking one out of the box to wipe her eyes. She had to get herself under control, lest she be without her glasses for the night.

"...I meant it, though," Iori went on slowly. "I… you know, back in… back when we first met our partners, and we were on the base…"

He didn't have to mention what base, or whose base it was. They all knew. Silently, Miyako reached over to rest a palm on the top of Ken's hand. "What about it?"

"I used to think that something was troubling him," Iori said. "Takeru, I mean. I wanted… to figure that out. I think it's like you said. Some things we don't understand… but we can still try to. But when the Jogress evolution happened for the first time… I just realized that it wasn't that I couldn't understand him. It wasn't that he was too mysterious or different. It wasn't that I couldn't help him. Actually, it was… the other way around. He's kind of the one who helped me. He made me see… that I'm like him."

A silence followed Iori's second confession. This one was solemn, but not awkward like the last. Hikari said, "He's always been like that. Helping people without even us realizing it."

"That must be why Yamato cares for him so deeply," Ken added wistfully. "He doesn't treat anyone else the way he treats Takeru."

"Don't tell him you know his soft spot," Miyako joked.

Hikari laughed, but then her expression softened. "I didn't know Yamato very well when I met him. He's… he's definitely not a people person, and he's the exact opposite of my Onii-san. He made me cry the first time he talked to me. But… he was always really great with Takeru. Takeru's the kind of person who brings out the brightest sides of people. He's kind of like… a charm that keeps the evil spirits away."

Part of her was astounded at the fact that Yamato would make a sweet girl like Hikari cry, but then, of course Yamato would make her cry. If she didn't know any better, she'd probably be intimidated by him, too. The only reason she wasn't was because, well. Miyako didn't really get intimidated by people.

Ruthless, powerful digimon that could kill her in a split second? For sure.

Suddenly Miyako's smile faded. Turned something a little milder than a frown, her expression growing pensive as she thought for a moment. Takeru… keeping spirits away…?

She was pretty certain Hikari's comparison should've been taken at face value. Surely she didn't mean that Takeru actually kept away any malevolent entities—he was only human, after all.

But… but Iori said…

He said it was like a stranger had walked out of the forest, she thought.

She imagined that thought as a puzzle piece, and scanned her brain for its respective slot. It was hard when they still had so many pieces scattered about.

She thought deeper. Furrowed her brows in concentration. Scanned the scattered pieces of the jigsaw once again, wondering if any other pieces were similar.

"I hear it in my head, sometimes."

Takeru admitted to hearing Bakumon's attack in his head. That… that meant he had to have heard it before, right? Words and events could attach themselves to people's memories just like a spirit attached to the site of a residual haunting.

Was something…?

Was something physically haunting Takeru…?

They knew something wasn't right. Takeru had admitted it himself, and Iori recently confirmed that the balance in the Jogress bond had shifted. It was only a theory that Mirrormon was the source…

Miyako wasn't that big of a horror fan. Mysteries were intriguing, sure, but she didn't obsess over them. But… but for someone to like Takeru—peaceful, friendly, "good charm" Takeru—to suddenly become a stranger to his Jogress partner…

...and for Yamato, his own brother, to be confused about his recent behavior and sleeping habits…

...and for even Hikari, his best friend, to be so impossibly concerned for Takeru's wellbeing that her worries lingered in Miyako's mind…

She scanned the internal jigsaw puzzle again. So many pieces lay in front of her and she'd made such little progress. Only the edge pieces were connected.

Wait…

There. She'd finally found the proper place for this piece.

"Oh my god," she whispered. Then her hand came up to tug on Hikari's arm with a sense of panicked urgency. "Guys. What if… what if Takeru's possessed?"

She hadn't even realized that she'd cut someone off. She'd been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't even know they were still talking to one another. Still, her question plunged them into silence once again, and they all stared at her with wide, anxious eyes.

She half-expected someone to burst out laughing. To call her crazy. If Daisuke was here… maybe that would have happened. But the four other teens in this room weren't the type of people who would do that.

"...by what?" Ken hedged.

"Mirrormon, of course!" She threw her arms up in the air, nearly whacking Ken in the face. "Koushiro! Look at those photos! We came here to discuss ideas about Mirrormon, didn't we? C'mon! Pull 'em up!"

Koushiro turned his attention back to the computer. "I'm going, I'm going!"

She shoved her misty glasses onto her face and practically leapt to her feet, stepping over Hikari and reaching Koushiro's computer in one long stride. "Go faster!"

"Miyako…" Iori hedged. "Yelling at him isn't going to end with the result you're hoping for. It will only make him nervous."

Miyako looked at him with the intention of shamelessly poking out her tongue, but stopped when she saw how pale Iori's face had become. He looked absolutely mortified.

"...hey. I'm not saying it's true," she said, suddenly stepping back from Koushiro's desk. "I'm just… we know that Bakumon's in one of these pictures. We know that Takeru saw him somewhere, somehow. If this is the Bakumon Takeru saw… but he's underground now… where is Mirrormon?"

"...we're not certain of that, yet," Koushiro said, abandoning the task Miyako had given him to look at her. "We—"

He cut himself off, as if mulling it over. Miyako prompted, "During our battle a few weeks ago, what did Mirrormon do?"

"...he controlled the other digimon and sent them after us," Ken said slowly, blinking.

"And where did Mirrormon go when he was in control of those digimon?"

Hikari gazed up at her, slowly figuring it out as well. "...he vanished."

"Because, because, because," Miyako persisted, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Because he's Mirrormon! He's like a mirror! What are mirrors used for?"

"...to show reflections," Iori said, growing paler and paler by the second. "Wait, so—"

"The pictures," Koushiro gasped out with dinner-plated eyes.

"Right! The pictures!" Miyako whirled back around to face him. "You compared them to the ones in your database, right?"

Koushiro fell silent, but she knew by his expression that the gears in his brain were already turning. His eyes slowly found his screen again.

Despite the fun, light atmosphere Hikari's arrival had created, all traces of humor and good-natured teasing were now gone. When Hikari's eyes met hers, they were filled with a dreadful, haunting amount of fear.

"...we saw him yesterday," she murmured. "He smiled right at me. That was Takeru in there."

Her voice wavered. Bent and snapped like a bone, bringing with it a fresh wave of hysteria and excruciating pain.

And not just the physical kind. The kind of pain that sank down into her very core, soul-deep, with no existing medicine to grant relief.

"Hikari, I'm sorry," she said, with every ounce of sincerity in her body. "I'm… I'm not saying it's true. But…"

"But he's been having those memory spells," she said, each word coming out in slow, successive blows. Hitting the bruised and broken bone. Killing its chance at healing. "And he keeps spacing out…"

"So you're saying… Takeru is Mirrormon's next puppet?" Ken asked haltingly. "But he's not a digimon. Takeru's human."

"Mirrormon's a new enemy," Iori said woodenly. "We don't know what he's capable of."

Miyako frowned and swallowed. The adrenaline from unraveling this mystery was dropping again, sinking down her body. Down her hips, her legs, her feet. Into the floor. She wasn't sure she'd get it back.

It didn't matter if she'd finally found a place for this piece. Because she still hadn't solved the entire puzzle—there were still many more pieces scattered about, and she didn't know which part to work on next.

"...this is bad," she muttered. "Very bad. Right?"

Slowly, one by one, each of her friends nodded. Ken asked in a tight voice, "...what do we do now?"

Hikari sniffled. She was already pulling out her phone, but it was Iori who spoke next: "We call Yamato."