a/n: hi! :D long time no,,,, write! :D but i'm here! i'm alive! surprisingly lol. i'm sorry for my absence, and this chapter didn't actually turn out as long as i'd hoped, but it's something! :D please enjoy!

tw for some pretty grotesque imagery.


Ch 17 || Down the Rabbit Hole

Hikari couldn't sleep that night.

She could still hear Takeru's screams ringing in her head. Could still hear the haunting break in his voice as he started calling for his brother, like he wasn't right next to him. Could remember the way she and her friends jumped, startled by the abruptness of the sound. Could remember the muffled clunk as Takeru's phone slipped away from the safety of his fingers.

Yamato caught it. And then he muted the call, probably in a rushed attempt to hang up, and the next thing she knew, she was staring at the ceiling of their bedroom.

No sound emitted from their side of the phone. But the pounding of her heart, the harshness of her own breath rushing in and out of her lungs, and the incredibly vivid memory of the whole episode were enough to torment her all night like she had heard every single word.

Her first instinct was to rush over to their home. Maybe it was an invasion of privacy, and maybe it was crossing a line. Takeru was her best friend, of course, but that didn't mean he didn't have boundaries.

But… but she couldn't help it. She learned in a matter of hours that one of her closest friends was likely possessed by a sinister entity, and then to have another episode of screaming like that in front of her?

It made her shake.

It stole her breath.

It drove her mad.

It was almost as if the insanity of whatever was haunting Takeru was spreading, rapidly, to her own brain. Pulsating. Festering. Infecting each and every corner, dripping from the top of her skull to the rest of her body. Down her neck. Down her collarbone and shoulders. Down her torso, her legs, into the very tips of her toes.

It was this madness, this infection, that kept her awake until the early hours of the morning. Every time she came close to drifting off, the slightest sound set her off again.

Taichi shifted and rolled over on the bunk below her. It snapped her back into alertness.

Her mother's footsteps outside her bedroom door as she checked on them in the middle of the night. It chewed at her fatigue until nothing was left.

The rattling of wind on her bedroom window. It renewed the cycle of her racing thoughts.

The only thing that had stopped her from bolting over to Takeru and Yamato's place was the group of Chosen surrounding her when the video call ended. She was on the verge of tears when it disconnected, her body itching to move, to find out what in the world was parasitizing her best friend.

Miyako offered to stay with her that night. She'd also offered her own bed to Hikari if she didn't want to go home. But Hikari's head was a jumbled mess and—as bad of an idea that it was—she wanted to attempt to sort it out herself.

Anxiety, she knew, could only drive someone deeper into the dark realm of hysteria. Sometimes it was easier to avoid the rabbit hole if she had someone to anchor her. But her thoughts could also be addicting, and even though she did have someone with her—Taichi slept on the bunk underneath her own—she couldn't bring herself to talk about it.

Because she didn't know how.

Taichi already knew what was going on. Taichi already knew something was wrong with Takeru. But things just…

Things suddenly felt like they were spiraling out of control. Everything was wrong. Everything was bad. Taichi was already doing all he could, but how could they cleanse the toxicity in Takeru's body if, every time they approached the issue, they lost their chance because Takeru became incoherent?

She didn't know what to do. She knew what she wanted to do, but she didn't know how to do it.

Hikari hated feeling so impossibly, parlously helpless.

It was sometime after four in the morning that her whirling mind finally quieted enough for her to answer the call of slumber. Even then, she slept fitfully, and her brother—her nine-hours-of-sleep-a-night, unable-to-function-with-anything-less brother—was awake before she was.

"Mm?" Her throat felt achy and her eyes hurt, but this didn't feel like sickness. Just lack of sleep. "...Nii-san?"

"Mornin', sis," Taichi said softly. "It's almost ten. You good?"

Hikari's sleep-fogged brain had a difficult time grasping and processing his words. Her bed was always traitorously comfortable upon waking up, and it didn't make the task of leaving it any easier.

She hummed again, not even opening her eyes. The ladder creaked, but Hikari's body remained reluctant to move, desperately clinging to those last few threads of sleep, if only so she wouldn't have to face the hellish swamp of a monster her thoughts had created.

"Hikari?" A palm came to rest on her ankle. "C'mon, Hika, you're usually up before me."

He said the words teasingly, but a concerned undertone was wedged somewhere in his voice. Taichi wasn't the type of person to mask his worries the way she did—no, he wore everything on his sleeve.

When he was uncertain, she knew.

When he was upset, she knew.

When he was concerned, she knew.

When he was frustrated, she knew.

So when she heard that little, almost-masterfully hidden drop of anxiety in his words, her stomach rolled uncomfortably. His drop of anxiety was a tiny grain of sand compared to the massive cesspool of nerves and unease, and yet she heard it so easily, clear as day.

Slowly, and against her body's wishes, Hikari peeled her eyes open. Turned her webbed gaze in the direction of her brother, vision swimming as she struggled to focus on his face.

"Nn?" was all she could manage.

"You ok?"

If it really was nearing ten in the morning, and she'd fallen asleep around four, that gave her some sleep. Why did it feel like she hadn't slept at all? She wasn't sure, but she did know that it wasn't at all pleasant.

Groggily, she rubbed an eye. The same creaking noise followed, and then a cool hand touched the base of her forehead. Her cheek. Her neck.

"M'not sick, Nii-san," she murmured.

"You always tell me that when you're sick," Taichi argued. "I can make you some broth? I'll text Yamato and let him know—"

The grogginess scattered like flower petals. Hikari bolted up so fast it dizzied her, and when her eyes snapped open, the room spun endlessly, but she somehow managed to pin her brother with her gaze, alert and afraid. "What's wrong with Yamato?"

Taichi pursed his lips. After a moment, he sighed. "...you're not gonna let me wiggle out of this one, huh?"

"It's about Takeru, isn't it?"

Of course it was. It had to be. How could Takeru have an episode like that and Yamato act like everything was fine? Yamato had to be worried out of his mind. Yamato had been worried about Takeru since the day he'd realized that he wasn't with the rest of them during their first encounter with Mirrormon.

With good reason. Who wouldn't be worried about a friend or relative experiencing things that Takeru was currently experiencing?

"Hika, if you're not feeling well—" Taichi started.

"I'm fine," she said. And then, when her brother gave her a skeptic look: "I just didn't sleep well, alright? It's nothing. Please tell me what's going on."

"Did you not sleep well because of the same reason Takeru and Yamato didn't sleep well?"

"They didn't sleep well?" Her heart sank. "Did… did he sleepwalk again? Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh, Onii-san—"

"Hey. Hey. Hikari. Hey, it's alright—"

"It is not alright, Nii-san." Tears sprang at her eyes and she lacked the self-control to even attempt to hide them. "H...how could you say it's alright? Takeru is in trouble. Mirrormon is—"

"I know." Taichi's expression was grave, blending ominously with the solemnity in his voice to create a chill that sank into her very core. "I know, that's… that's not what I meant, ok? I… god. I just. It will be alright, do you hear me? Hika, don't… don't cry…"

It was too late. The tears were already rolling. She kicked the covers off her body in a frenzied rush, not even waiting for the world to stop spinning. Not even waiting for her brain to catch up. Plunging on without stability may have been a risky move, but every part of her was already under attack. She didn't have time to wait.

She had to act fast.

She had to get to Takeru and Yamato's place. She had to see them for herself.

"Hikari, hey, slow down—"

"Let me through, Nii-san," she persisted. "We have to get going."

"Not until you let me explain."

She paused only to glare at him, but she knew immediately that the effect was lost with no hope of revival. She probably looked horrible. Pathetic, even, with her hair in disarray, eyes watery and webbed with exhaustion, and cheeks stained with tears.

Still, she was too stubborn to stop, even when she knew her attempt at intimidating her brother with her gaze was pitiful. Even when she knew he could easily stop her if she tried to move past him.

"It wasn't sleepwalking last night," Taichi said hastily, like he was aware of the way her skin itched and crawled to get down from the bed. "It was… in the evening. During your call. You know, the one… you didn't tell me about?"

Her throat suddenly felt like a desert. Like the infection had taken every last drop of what made her body thrive. Filled it with diseased sores and abnormalities that her immune system could not fight off. She swallowed hard to moisten it, but all that did was make her aware of the knot that had made itself a home in her esophagus.

"I did tell you," she murmured weakly, feebly, losing all drive to fight.

"You didn't tell me… the details?"

She had no answer for that. She couldn't deny it because it was true. But what was she supposed to say? It was the exact same loop she'd been trapped in all night. She didn't want to admit it out loud because then she'd have to talk about the possibility of her best friend being possessed again and she wasn't sure if she could handle that.

Because then they'd gather more evidence and she'd have to accept their theory as fact.

Because then she'd have to accept that their time limit was a lot shorter than she thought it was.

Because then she'd have to consider the possibility…

No. No. That wasn't a possibility. It wasn't. It was—

"It was... really bad," she said around a hiccup. "He was just… screaming… out of nowhere. And Yamato wouldn't tell us what happened… he wouldn't let us talk to Takeru. How was I s-supposed to tell anyone if I didn't know myself? We didn't… even know what to do."

Guilt swam in Taichi's eyes. "Sorry. I… I wasn't accusing you. I just… I don't know, I wish I'd known so you didn't have to carry that all by yourself, you know?"

Hikari swallowed again. The knot seemed even bigger than before. She nodded anyway, doing her best to pretend it wasn't there.

"C'mon. Are you hungry? You should eat before you—"

The thought of eating—no matter how basic and how necessary of a need eating was—made her stomach churn. Made her entire body inwardly convulse like it knew something vile existed inside of her that needed purging.

She shook her head immediately. "N-no. I just… not until I talk to them."

Taichi eyed her as if he knew there was no point in arguing, but she could tell he didn't like her response. Not that she was giving him much of a choice.

"Will you try to eat something when we're there?"

Her stomach rolled uncomfortably and she swallowed. She nodded once more against her better judgment. Watched as Taichi stepped down from the ladder. Knew her protesting body would have to follow in suit to get dressed.

Wondered, not for the first time, if this was how Takeru felt.

Trapped in a hole with no way out.


When Hikari and Taichi got there, Yamato texted them with the instructions to come in without knocking, and to do so quietly. Hikari was filled with dread at first, and she wasn't even sure why—confusion, maybe. Anticipation. Her nerves were like insects underneath her skin, thrumming and pulsating.

Then they stepped inside, where the lights were dim enough to shock her for a moment. It was disorienting to walk from one area that was extremely bright and sunny to another that was poorly lit, all mystery and shadow.

It soon became apparent, though, why all the flat had basically become a dusky counterpart to the outdoors.

Takeru was asleep.

"Sorry," Yamato murmured, practically bleeding exhaustion. He rubbed his temple, sipping something out of a mug. It smelled like coffee. "We've… well, he's been up all night. Finally got him to sleep, after I sent…"

"Do you want to talk to the others another time?" Taichi asked, keeping his voice low when Yamato left the sentence hanging.

"We don't have time to do that."

A pause. "Right. Of course."

"Why was he up all night?" Hikari was almost afraid to ask.

Yamato went quiet. Then he sighed, tracing the rim of his mug with the pad of his index finger. It was like he'd given up trying to hide any sort of information, and she didn't blame him—what point did hiding have? What would that solve? It would make everything worse.

"He was afraid of what would happen if he slept."

Hikari swallowed nervously, the thrumming and pulsating growing stronger and more intense by the second. The only thing keeping her grounded at the moment was the fact that they still had Takeru—sleeping or not sleeping—with them, in the next room.

She didn't know what she'd do if he disappeared.

"I don't blame him," she muttered, a shiver crawling up her spine as she forced the previous thought out of her mind.

Another silence ensued, and she wasn't sure how to fill it. She couldn't reassure Yamato that it was going to be ok because she wasn't sure if it was going to be. She couldn't tell Takeru things would be fine because she didn't know, and he wasn't awake to listen. Or…

Or maybe she could still talk to him?

The thought entered her brain and refused to leave until she paid attention to it. Climbed down into this hole with her with a promise of finding a way out.

"Can I see him?" she whispered, unable to resist the urge to give that thought a voice. "I'll be quiet. I promise."

Yamato hesitated for an achingly long moment. Then, quietly: "It took me hours to get him to sleep."

"I know," Hikari said sincerely, but she couldn't help it. After last night, she had to see that her best friend was alright with her own two eyes. She had to see the physical evidence. "Please?"

"She didn't sleep much, either," Taichi said in a grave voice that made her hold back a wince. She had hoped it wasn't too obvious, and that he wouldn't bring it up. "She's just worried."

Then Yamato studied her face, and even in the dimness of the flat, Hikari struggled not to shift under the weight of his gaze. There was something about the look in his eyes that made her believe that this horrible, infectious madness spreading through her was coursing through him, too.

It was frightening what lack of sleep could do to the mind.

"Fine," he relented finally, taking another sip of his coffee. "Come get me if you need me, ok?"

She nodded mutely, understanding the true meaning behind those words: Come get me if he needs me.

"And try to get some sleep, too, if you can," he added, almost as an afterthought. "I'll… I'll clue you in later."

Another soundless nod. She turned to face the open bedroom door, which was half-open, and when she heard her brother ask if they were the first ones here, she couldn't focus on Yamato's response. Instead, she plunged into Yamato and Takeru's bedroom.

It was strange. She'd been in Takeru's bedroom many times before, but very rarely had she been in Yamato's—even now that they shared a room and an apartment, it felt so odd. After all, she didn't know very well the side of Yamato that Takeru did.

Still…

She almost whispered his name. Caught herself as soon as her lips parted to speak. Part of her knew that she should just let him sleep—what if she startled him into wakefulness, by accident? Her mind told her to leave him be, but her heart pulled her in toward him.

Maybe it'll solve everything, her heart said. Maybe all I need to do is talk to him.

It didn't matter if he was asleep. Ever since Mirrormon entered the picture, his responses and behavior were linked to that of a sleepwalking person. If she talked to him while he was awake, what difference would it make?

Maybe he'd still hear her voice.

Maybe she could learn something.

Maybe she wouldn't like what she learned.

Maybe she didn't have a choice.

"Hey."

This time, she couldn't stop herself. The word came out without her control. And once it did, she just kept going—sentence after sentence was purged from her body like speaking would destroy the source of her infection.

"I… I hope you're ok. Yamato… he says you didn't sleep very well." A heavy, anxious swallow. Patamon looked up like a curious cat from his place on Takeru's hip, but her gaze remained fixed on Takeru. "I don't blame you. Last night… last night must've been really scary."

Gabumon's ruby eyes looked up at her, too, and then back down at Takeru when he realized whom she was addressing. Then he scooted over a little and gestured for her to sit.

Part of her was grateful for a chance to rest her legs. Another part of her itched to stand, just to keep herself awake. Would moving to sit on the bed cause too much jostling? Would it wake him? She wasn't sure, and maybe that's why she hesitated to move, but her voice continued regardless.

"I thought it was scary, too. I thought…"

A knot formed in her throat. Growing bigger.

"We thought he was actually hurting you."

Bigger.

"And all we could do was just sit there, you know? We weren't sure what to do.

Bigger.

"And… I'm sorry. I'm sorry we couldn't help you."

Her heart wouldn't let her stop. Words rolled off her tongue as if he could converse with her, and she didn't know why. She'd always heard that when people were in a coma, they could still hear you when you talked to them. Maybe that was her end goal—the perhaps naive wish that he could hear her, and when he woke up they could rediscuss.

He wouldn't. She knew he wouldn't, and yet she talked anyway. The conversation carried one-sided in soft, shuddering whispers and hitched breaths as she struggled to keep her tears at bay. Eventually, Gabumon lay his palm on her knee, and she nearly jumped when another hand—a distinctly human hand—made contact with her shoulder.

She'd been reluctant to get on the bed, but her brain was so focused on talking to Takeru that she must've sat down instinctively. When she turned her head, Iori stood there with a pensive expression on his face.

"He's asleep," she said instantly. Quietly.

"I see," Iori murmured. "Yamato told me."

"I thought… he'd still hear me, somehow." It felt silly saying it aloud. She gazed down at her hands, only able to see their faint outline in the dimness of the bedroom. Still, there was enough light she'd recognized Iori, even if she didn't hear him come in. "Maybe I'm being stupid."

"You're not being stupid."

"I just want to help him."

Iori paused, hand tensing on her shoulder. It was then that she realized that, despite knowing each other for several years now, she and Iori weren't that close. Miyako was one of his closest friends, and Miyako was one of her closest friends. He was Takeru's Jogress partner, and she was Takeru's best friend. But they hardly spent time together, with just the two of them.

Yet somehow, the air between them wasn't awkward. They still had that strong foundation supporting their friendship—the closeness of Miyako and Takeru. But then, Miyako and Takeru seemed to have a better time making friends than she did.

Or at least… at first glance. In reality, Miyako sometimes came off as too abrasive or brash. Takeru was the exact opposite—for all his smiles and grins, Takeru was painfully shy. It was hard to tell what was genuine and what was instinct.

"It drives you insane, doesn't it?"

Her head snapped back up. "What?"

"Knowing something's wrong."

The infection was in her throat. In her nasal cavities. In her ears, in her tonsils, burrowing their way into her eye sockets. Her fists clenched in her lap like the tightening of her muscles would stop it from spreading, but it was far too late.

Even if the infection stopped, nothing in her body could be salvaged. This madness—this haunting, parasitic, poisonous madness—had taken everything.

"Yeah," she said, voice cracking. "It does."

Slowly, he released her shoulder, drawing his hand back to his side. "I… I had an idea after last night."

She glanced at him, eyes widening as her heart skipped a beat, daring to believe there was hope. Repeated in the same cracking voice, "Wh-what?"

"I was going to ask Yamato first," he went on, "but he mentioned that Takeru was asleep… and he seemed adamant not to wake him. Then I heard you talking to him. And it… it made me realize something."

"Iori, what are you talking about?"

"We know Mirrormon's there." Even in the darkness, his gaze was ominous and piercing. Something odd lingered there—something between familiarity and stranger, between sanity and madness, but not quite one or the other. "I know he's there."

Her heart plummeted. Sinking and sinking through dark paths of decay. "...yeah?"

"So we talk to Mirrormon through Takeru," Iori said with an even stare. "And we help Takeru realize who is still in control."