I don't own digimon.

Story 17

Fear the Marching Fishes

Of all the places Gomamon expected to find himself, a rock concert was not one of them. Personally, he was more of a marching band person.

"Could they just stop for just a moment?" the otter digimon muttered and took a moment to compose 't even scratch the surface of the stupid amount of noise they created. Had these people never heard a MetalEtemon attempt to sing damn near anything that wasn't Elvis music? It sounded like a cross between something dying and a cat puking out a hairball. At the same time. All while being backed by a just as awful band. None of them were ever in key. Nor did they understand the bare minimum of music theory. "Wonderful. Just my luck."

If he couldn't get a moment to think, he could instead check out his surroundings. Gray concrete walls were the first thing to welcome Gomamon in, followed by a black concrete floor. Cases and other props had been scattered throughout the area, making the towering red curtains all the more odder. Why exactly would a rock concert need such fancy curtains? Rock music was not something known to be subtle when it came to its messaging. If anything, a set of ragged curtains would've worked better here. That way, the audience would know what they were getting into before the band even played. The only problem was having to put back up the original curtains once the band had finished playing.

"Theodore, where are you?" Gomamon thought, not even daring to say it out loud. While he doubted anyone would actually hear it, he didn't need any suspicion brought on him by way of the theater staff. Even as the rock music outside began to slow down. Perhaps they were finally on their last song or something. No, the otter digimon highly doubted he was that lucky. No, they would stop and then wait a moment to begin their next set.

"Gomamon?" a voice called out, Gomamon's gaze bouncing about the room. Eventually, his gaze stopped and he did a double take. Far as the otter digimon could tell, he hadn't consumed any illicit substances. Which didn't explain the person in a gomamon costume holding a guitar. This had to be a strange fever dream brought on by rock music. Nothing else quite fit for a proper explanation here. That he could think of, at least. Perhaps such an explanation didn't exist and it was all for the heck of it. Odder still was the guitar. Someone had gone through the trouble of making a bunch of fish, cast them in resin and then make a guitar out of all of that. For any other instrument, Gomamon would've praised the creator. But no, they had to go with a guitar.

"This is how you've chosen to spend your adult life?!" Gomamon announced and got an eye roll in return. Or at least, something along those lines. Kind of hard to tell with that massive costume. Yet, the person in the costume bent down to be at the otter digimon's level.

"Yes." the person in the gomamon costume answered and petted his partner. Gomamon stepped away, only to be met by the other hands. Figures. Just couldn't leave things alone. Regardless of whether or not he had actually had any sort of say here. Of all the things Theodore had hoped would somehow be different, this was right at the top of his list. If nothing else, just to have someone on his side willing to defend the life decisions he made. No, that was asking too much here from his life. "Do you somehow have a problem with that?"

Gomamon nodded. Watching Theodore make his exit, he muttered something to himself. Wonderful. Just wonderful. All of that work he had done, wasted. At this point, probably better to just go back to the digital world and hope to fuck that something changed. They probably wouldn't let him do that, though. Something about 'needing to be with his partner' or 'you're a team'. Maybe he didn't want the digital world rescued from the giant titty woman or the giant alien bee. But no, the digidestined (or whatever the heck they were called) had to swoop in and rescue them. Beyond the point as the music stopped. Had he finally gotten his reprieve? Gomamon highly doubted it.

"How's everyone enjoying the show?!" Theodore announced, Gomamon forcing his attention in that particular direction. Even from behind the curtain, the crowd sounded quite excited to see a man in a gomamon costume. They were probably furries. Or at least, people who enjoyed being in the company of furries. Worse than regular furries in his book. But not as bad as those claiming that their human was best. Somehow, all conversations needed to be about that particular person and their bond. Absolutely the worst. "We're Fear the Marching Fishes! How is everyone doing tonight?!"

The shouting from the crowd suggested that they were quite happy. Joyous even. Not that Gomamon cared one way or the other.

"Just before I got out here. I ran into an old friend. When he found out about this, he threw an absolute fit. I know you can hear me, Gomamon. If you truly disagreed, you would've stormed out and thrown a massive fit."

His words rolled out, Gomamon's expression shifting. Now that was playing dirty. Of course he went there. That did it. If he was going to do that, then he would just make his appearance. Simple as that. This plan was absolutely foolproof. No way that Theodore could counter this.

Stepping around the curtain, Gomamon took the audience in. Try as he might to think of a time when he had seen a crowd this large, the answer frustratingly alluded him. Which made the cheering all the more disorienting. Was this what Theodore dealt with on a daily basis? Had to be. All while in a giant costume of him. He was definitely going to need to give his partner that credit.

"Let's rock!" Theodore announced and began to play.