104

Reunion

"But the vapor drew down, evil and clammy, coiling and wreathing like knots of phantom serpents, and filling men's marrows as if with the cold of death." – Clark Ashton Smith, "The Ice-Demon"

Daisuke's sleep was long, and restless. For the first time the waves of nightmare that had been battering his friends for nearly a week washed over him in their full strength. Whatever protection he had had was now swept away, and he could sense it in his dark dreams, but while sleep lasted he couldn't quite comprehend why that barrier was gone. Events had chipped it away until nothing was left. Through a kaleidoscope of negative emotions he knew only that he was hurting.

When he finally came back to consciousness it was with a snap. All at once he was awake, wrenched from interminable visions of defeat, loneliness, and frustration into reality. The first thing he noticed was the unpleasant coolness of the room, exacerbated by his missing gloves and the icy handcuffs on his wrists. His eyes opened on blackness so complete that he might as well have left them closed.

"This… is real?" he said, getting awkwardly to his feet. He thought it was, but the unusually long string of dreams had left him disoriented. Thinking back, he looked for something that seemed solid, and came up almost immediately with the underground tunnels and the burning desert. A wintery thrill ran through him. "V-mon? V-mon!"

There wasn't so much as an echo in reply. The darkness remained still and silent. Daisuke strained at the handcuffs, trying to pull his hands apart, but didn't have the strength. Still working at it he took a few steps around the room, calling again for his partner. Before long he met a stone wall and, striking off in another direction, another. The room was small, only a little larger than his bedroom at home.

There was no question that something terrible and unexpected had happened, and he was afraid he knew what it was. "Ichijouji! Hikari-chan!" No response. Where were his friends? They weren't in this room, at least. And V-mon! Had he really been… killed? The fight was real, this was real, but maybe that part was nightmare. But V-mon wouldn't have stopped fighting, he thought. It was that realization that convinced him. Brave, loyal V-mon would never have let this happen while he still possessed the strength to resist.

For a moment there was utter quiet in the blackness. Then Daisuke sobbed aloud, and staggered against a nearby wall. The tears came at once, choking him, streaming down his cheeks. "V-mon…" A strong shudder passed through his frame, rattling the short chain of the handcuffs. He shook his head, violently, blinking back the teardrops that he would be unable to wipe away. His grief did not subside, but now anger, too, was rising in him.

"Where are you?" he growled at the empty room. And again, louder: "You bastards! Where are you?" No answer. His friends were gone, and his enemies were ignoring him. "Damn it!" He kicked savagely at the wall, not heeding the resulting pain. "Hey!" he shouted. "Come on out! You – killed – V-mon!"

Again, there was no response. Nor would there be for what seemed like ages, during which Daisuke paced about his cell in a blaze of impotent fury and deep, aching sadness. His best friend was dead, the other partner Digimon were too, and Hikari-chan and the others needed him. Fragments of the night's dreams kept returning to haunt and sting him, particularly something his double had said on the soccer field – All your friends are going to lose everything. If only he could get out of this room! It seemed to be getting smaller by the minute.

He had to sit down at last, heavily. Despite the chill of the room he had worked up a sweat, and the combination of emotional stress, physical exertion (he must have been moving for well over an hour), and the lack of restful sleep had left him exhausted. He'd stopped crying a long time before now, but felt, if anything, more miserable than before.

Much as it embarrassed him for anyone to bring it up, he knew that he was a simple person, a doer and not a thinker. And it was because of his uncomplicated nature that he now found himself at such a loss. There was nothing he could do. So he thought. He soon discovered, as his friends had also learned from experience, that an active imagination in this terrible place was not an asset, but only another weapon of their captors.

Turning from vague, uneasy speculation about what might be happening to the others, he considered the people responsible for beating and destroying V-mon and the other partner Digimon. And who had tortured all those Digimon back in the underground base. His hands clenched and unclenched behind his back. If only they were here and his hands were free…

"I'd…" he breathed aloud.

"You'd what?"

Daisuke jumped to his feet and peered into the darkness where the voice had come from, all fatigue momentarily forgotten. He couldn't be sure – his eyes had been seeing spots before in the utter absence of light – but he thought he saw two faint, glimmering points there, like the eyes of someone looming above him.

"Who's there?" he asked. Then, not waiting for an answer, "You're the one that killed V-mon, aren't you!?"

The Dark Man's smile gleamed out under the eyes.

"Yes," he said. "And I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. I never have been a very good host – or a very good guest! Just ask Sato-san."

Daisuke said nothing, debating whether or not to rush into an attack, handcuffs or no.

"Let me help you with those," the Dark Man continued, perfectly able to see the boy's expression despite the darkness. There was a sound of snapping fingers, and suddenly the cold burden of the handcuffs was gone as they evaporated into data. Daisuke immediately brought his hands in front of him, rubbing at his sore wrists. "Well, give it a shot," the Dark Man said. "The first one's free."

Hesitating no longer, ablaze with anger and ignoring the small warning voice in his head, Daisuke plunged forward, leading with one fist and putting all his remaining energy behind it. The punch hit home, striking the Dark Man's stomach. And whatever Daisuke had expected, he cried out in surprise and pain as his knuckles sank several inches into a squirming, viscous surface that burned like cold fire. He pulled back his hand as quickly as he had launched it. The Dark Man's teeth flashed again in laughter, and his eyes twinkled more brightly.

"I couldn't resist," he said.

"Wh-What the hell are you?" Daisuke asked, completely unnerved. He now recalled that strange transformation out in the desert.

"What am I not?" the Dark Man said with a chuckle. "All you really need to know is that I have more power than you can imagine, and that my job is to devote that power to making your life as miserable as I can."

"Why?" Daisuke growled. "For that Sato guy?"

"Yes, dear Sato-kun," the other sighed. "He summoned me from my world to help him take care of the Chosen Children. And do you want to know why he does what he does?"

"That doesn't matter," Daisuke said. "He's gonna pay for what he's done." He looked up at the glimmering eyes with clean-burning hatred. "And so are you."

"Doesn't matter?" the Dark Man repeated with an incredulous whoop. "I can guarantee it would matter to your friends! They keep asking him why, they keep asking me why. But you get straight to the real point, of course. That single-mindedness has served you well in the past…"

There was a brief silence. Daisuke was about to speak again when the Dark Man began chuckling in the darkness. It went on, rising almost to the level of a laugh.

"Shut up," Daisuke said sullenly, unaccustomed to the chills that were beginning to run through him. After another second or so the Dark Man obliged, but then resumed talking.

"You'll have to forgive me," he said. "There's just so much that's… funny. I'll get to the point. I have a surprise for you. Another visitor."

Slowly the darkness began to thin. Before long Daisuke could make out the outlines of the Dark Man's body looming out of the shadows. That half-shrouded figure commanded his eyes' attention, so that it was only when the Dark Man moved that he noticed the much slighter figure behind.

The Dark Man pulled the girl around to his side before releasing her arm. She stood there, eyes closed, swaying sickly, and in the lessening gloom Daisuke recognized Nat-chan. His mouth fell open, but for the moment he was speechless.

"Well, say hello, Natsu," the Dark Man said, giving her a little push forward. Stumbling a little she opened her eyes, and it was as she regained her balance that she saw…

"Daisuke." The corners of her mouth quivered upwards, as though she would smile, but the attempt failed. Something about his expression must have troubled her. Daisuke was studying her features. As far as he could tell, she was the same girl – no, the same Digimon – he had met not long ago in the wintery streets of New York. The Dark World had faded her clothes and the light blue of her hair, but it was clearly her, the Nat-chan from before her terrifying transformation and her sacrifice.

"N-Nat-chan!" he stammered. "But… how did you get here?" The question seemed to recall her to where she was. She rushed forward to stand by his side, glancing at the placidly smiling Dark Man.

"He brought me here!" she said. Then added, in a whisper, "That thing…"

"What's going on?" Daisuke asked, addressing the Dark Man. "How do you know Nat-chan?"

"I met her, not very long after answering Sato's summons," the Dark Man replied. "Of course, she looked a little bit different from what she does now. She might have grabbed your attention as she was, but I thought this form might be a little more to your taste. Come to think of it, she looks just a little like that other girl. What was her name…?"

"You mean—" Daisuke began, the girl jumping immediately to mind. Then suddenly all his apprehensions of the dark hours rushed back. "Wait! Where is she? Is she okay? And the others?"

"Maybe, maybe not," the Dark One said with a nonchalant air. "What could you do if I said they weren't? Besides," he continued with a sly grin, "You've got a girlfriend to worry about right here."

Beads of sweat appeared on Daisuke's forehead as he considered the possibilities. At the same time he looked towards Nat-chan, and saw that she was staring at him fixedly. She did look like someone in need of protection. "Daisuke…" she said, softly. Then without warning her eyes squeezed shut in a wince. A little gasp escaped her, and she put a hand to her head.

"Nat-chan!" Daisuke cried in alarm. He raised his hands as if in preparation to comfort her, but then stood immobile, unsure what to do. She was clearly in pain, and it appeared to worsen momently. Then Daisuke felt a real stab of icy fear as something slid without leaving a mark out of the girl's neck. He recognized it immediately, though in this place its glow was too much dimmed to be mistaken for that of a firefly. From across the room the Dark Man laughed low, making a series of quick, beckoning gestures with his hand.

"What's going on!?" Daisuke yelled. More of the data chips were rising into the air now from Nat-chan's body. He'd seen their emergence before, just as she had begun to transform, but then it hadn't seemed to hurt her.

"It was these little beauties I used to make her what she is," the Dark Man said, as Natsu, still clutching her head, sank to her knees. "You have me to thank, Motomiya-kun, for meeting this girl you call Summer. And you're very welcome."

The low, tinkling sound of the data chips was rising, and now another, much louder sound joined them. Static crackled in the air – their surroundings shimmered, then resettled. And the temperature began to fall.

"Nat-chan," Daisuke said, grasping her shoulders with trembling hands. "Are you okay? Nat-chan!" It was no use. Looking down at her he could see a thin coating of ice begin to crawl across the floor from under where she knelt. "Please!" he said, turning to the Dark Man. "Please don't hurt her anymore!" The only response he got was a widening smile. "Stop it!"

"It hurts…"

"What can I do?" Daisuke asked, returning his attention to Nat-chan. Unable to console her, he could only hold to her, his shyness temporarily forgotten. The frost on the floor continued to spread.

"Not much," the Dark Man said. Daisuke heard him snap his fingers again. In instant response Nat-chan screamed, and Daisuke was lifted as by an unseen force, knocked away from her by a wave of freezing air. A constellation of data chips arose, and Natsu's body went limp. She fell to the floor and remained motionless. "And now…" the Dark Man said, "I'm pretty sure you can't do anything."

Daisuke picked himself up quickly. "Nat-chan!" As he got to his feet, the noise of the data chips rose to a shrill jangling. One after another they launched at him, stinging his face and hands as he tried to force his way through the swarm. Stumbling under the assault, Daisuke was still able to get back to Nat-chan's side. Her stillness frightened him.

"That's a little more of her data than she can afford to lose," the Dark Man said, still laughing a little at the spectacle of Daisuke fighting against the chips. "I wonder how long it will take for her to fail completely."

"What do you mean?" Daisuke asked, looking down at her pale face. Her eyes were open and looking at him, her lips trembled as if trying to speak.

"I mean that I've as good as killed another of your Digimon friends." Daisuke jerked his head up, to look at the Dark Man with unbelieving anger. "But look at the bright side!" the Dark Man continued. "She won't take nearly as long as your other girl. Or the rest of the Chosen Children…"

For a moment Daisuke could say nothing. He only knelt there, his shins against the frozen floor, shaking with a terror equal to his impotent fury. The Dark Man grinned back at him. Finally Daisuke swallowed. In a low voice he said, "I don't care what you are, or how strong you are. Somehow… Somehow, I will wipe that smile off your face."

"Good luck," the Dark Man answered softly, eyes glittering. Daisuke turned back to Natsu, gingerly lifting her a little off the floor, cradling her upper body. She was very cold. As he gazed down at her, the tears returning to his eyes, he dimly heard that hateful chuckle. A chill breeze began to blow in the already frigid room, and the frost was beginning to climb the nearest wall. After a minute or so Daisuke was able to tear his eyes away from the face of the dying girl, but the Dark Man was gone.

Looking back to her, he saw through the blur of tears that one of her feet was starting to fade into nothingness, slowly, giving off an effervescence of data particles.