Disclaimer: Digimon doesn't belong to me, and I don't make any money out of this.

Notes: Again, beta read by Stained in Negativity - it's the effort which counted ;)
Not much happens in this chapter, and it took a lot longer to write than expected. Having some fun with the next chapter already, though, so look out for that!

Chapter 3: Recovery

It was three in the morning, and the lights were still on in Iori's bedroom. He sat cross-legged on his bed, yellow D3 in one hand, staring blankly at the wall. Images of Armadimon floated past his eyes. Armadimon walking. Armadimon laughing. Armadimon eating. Armadimon taking a snooze. Armadimon, not doing anything in particular, but just being there...

He even thought he could detect, just on the edge of hearing, the faintest echo of his partner speaking. "Lighten up, Iori! No matter what happens, I believe in you!" the familiar, raspy, Nagoya accented voice told him, as it had done so many times before when Iori had been feeling down.

But it wasn't real. Armadimon wouldn't be saying things like that any more. Armadimon wouldn't be around to say things like that any more.

And it was his fault. It was his fault for getting into an argument, for fighting with one of his friends when he should have been fighting the enemy in front of them.

He should have listened and evolved his partner back up again, not hesitated. He'd known that Koushirou would have fetched the others before long, and he had still held back. Why? At the time, he remembered thinking it was the logical thing to do... but, in retrospect, it had just been cowardice. Pure cowardice.

The last few days had passed in a blur. Iori could vaguely remember going out, delivering packages, going to the shops, the usual errands... but it was all in a detached, indistinct way. He hadn't told his mother or his grandfather about what had happened. After all, keeping a secret wasn't the same as lying. And they wouldn't have been able to understand, anyway. Did they know what it was like to have a Digimon partner? More to the point, did they know how hard it was to have that partner so suddenly ripped away?

He hadn't spoken to any of the other Chosen, either. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see any of them again.

Iori stood up, walked over to his computer and switched the monitor on. The image of a Digital Gate remained on the screen from when he had tried to access it earlier. He pointed his Digivice at the screen.

"Digital Gate, open!"

The Gate remained stubbornly unresponsive to his words. Iori looked at the D3. There wasn't even a single red light showing on the screen, as he knew there should be with at least two other Chosen Children nearby. By all appearances, it had completely stopped working. That would make sense. After all, he knew his own Digivice had been tied to the Digimental Armadimon had been sealed in, and now Armadimon was...

Iori shook his head to clear those thoughts, and held the D3 up again.

"Digital Gate! Open!"

Still nothing. Just like the last few times he'd tried it. Iori put the D3 down onto the desk, and climbed into bed, still not switching the lights off. He lay on his back, facing the ceiling.

He was being stupid again, he knew it. Armadimon had probably been reconfigured right after dying. Even if his own D3 wasn't working, all he had to do was ask one of the older kids to fetch Armadimon's egg for him and bring it home. They were his friends, after all. And that would be the end of it - Armadimon would hatch, and both of them could get on with their lives as if nothing had ever happened.

So why was he so reluctant to do that? Why was he taking this so hard?

Three days after Chimeramon's mysterious re-emergence and equally mysterious departure, the younger team of Chosen Children and their Digimon were once again gathering in Koushirou's apartment, with two very noticeable exceptions.

The last to arrive was Daisuke. He walked into the bedroom with his hands in his pockets, looked around, and frowned. "Hey, guys," he said, "where's -"

He left the question hanging. There was a lengthy pause as the others exchanged awkward looks.

Finally, Koushirou broke the silence. "Well, Tentomon and I have been trying to work out exactly what happened a few days ago, and although I haven't got everything straight yet, I think we're making some progress..."

Daisuke flopped into a vacant chair. "You figured out what happened to all those Digimon yet?" he asked.

"No, but -"

"It was pretty weird, though," Minomon chimed in, sitting on Ken's lap. "There must've been twenty of them at least, and then the wind blows and poof, no more Hangyoumon."

"Actually, I'm more worried about what happened to Chimeramon," Takeru said. "It didn't look like any evolution we've seen before. And it's dangerous - I mean, Iori -"

There was another pause. Koushirou intervened again.

"We've been looking into that," he said, opening his laptop and tapping on the keyboard for a few moments.

The other children leaned forward. The picture displayed on the screen might have resembled Chimeramon, if Chimeramon was painted black and had a pair of giant cannons glued to its shoulders. Miyako started to read aloud. "Millenniummon. Ultimate-level. Jogress evolution between Chimeramon and Mugendramon..."

"Mugendramon! That's what I thought! But it couldn't have been, could it?" Takeru shook his head. "If that evolution was a jogress, Mugendramon would've had to be there... and we saw Mugendramon die, too..."

Another silence. The air was rife with unspoken questions. How was this happening? Who was next? Would it stop?

After a while, Miyako raised a different question. "Has anyone seen Iori recently? Normally he's in and out of our store like a boomerang, but he hasn't turned up since last week."

Takeru blinked. "Now you mention it, I haven't run into him either..."

"Aw, come on, guys! Why are you all making such a big deal out of this?" Daisuke spread his arms. "Iori's a tough kid. So what if he's just had his partner explode on him? Give him a few more days and he'll be -"

"I saw him this morning," said Hikari, with unusual abruptness. "When my brother and I were going into town. He was at the beach, just by himself. I don't know what he was doing, but when I said hi, he sort of... ran away." She sighed. "Actually, it's a little worrying... I've never seen Iori run off without at least saying hello back. He's not that sort of person."

Thrown by the interruption, Daisuke regained his composure. "Uh, well, like I was saying," he continued, "I just don't get why everyone's acting all weird whenever we mention Iori, that's all."

"That might be because the rest of us don't have the sensitivity of a brick, Daisuke," Miyako said, in a superior tone of voice.

Daisuke blanched. "Hey, I -" He hesitated for a few seconds, and turned back to Koushirou. "Anyway, what was that you were saying about progress?"

Later, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, Miyako walked down a street by herself with a bulging bag slung over her back. It made muffled noises every few seconds, but she ignored them.

Considering how long that "meeting" had taken, nobody had learnt much from it. What they had learnt was bad. Mysterious evolutions, mysterious reconfigurations... overall, very mysterious. And nobody was willing to do anything about it - because, really, what could they do? Go on a wild goose chase through the Digital World looking for their old enemies, when for all anyone knew there might not be any more? No, the best thing to do was wait for more appearances before taking action. That wasn't what was bugging Miyako.

But... Iori. Miyako knew as well as the others that he didn't need fussing over - come to think, she probably knew it better than the others, considering she'd known him the longest. She had suggested that they all go round to his place and talk him out of it or something, but Daisuke had been pretty adamant about leaving Iori alone, and none of them were prepared to put up with the incessant whining which would ensue if they argued with Daisuke.

As she approached her family's shop, her bag heaved violently and slid off her shoulder, landing on the pavement with another indistinct squawk. She glared at it. It did its best to look innocent. "Mmf?"

"I told you ten minutes ago already - cut that out or I'm leaving you in there overnight!" she snapped.

"Mmf."

The bag squeaked indistinctly again, but stopped moving. Miyako picked it up and slid the glass doors of the convenience store aside. She waved at Momoe, who was standing at the counter. "Hey, sis!" she called.

Momoe glanced up. "Oh, hi! You're back early." She looked back down at her customer. "All right, so the total comes to four hundred..."

"Thank you," said Iori. He bowed quickly, and took his carrier bag off the table.

Miyako gaped. "I-Iori!" she blurted out. "What... what are you..."

Iori stopped, plastic bag in hand. His eyes widened. For a moment, a shadow of fear seemed to pass over his face. Then he pushed past her and ran outside without another word.

Momoe looked puzzled at the sudden turn of events. "Miyako, what's up with your friend?"

"Ugh, where does he think he's going?" Miyako turned around and sprinted after him. "Iori!" she yelled as she ran. "Get back here!"

Left behind on the floor, Poromon struggled feebly with the zip of the bag, to very little effect. "Mmf? Mmf, mmf... Mmf! Mmf!"

Having said goodbye to Miyako by the lifts on the ground floor, Takeru made his way towards his own apartment. His head was buzzing, and not just because Patamon seemed to have fallen asleep on top of it.

It was a little worrying, this business with Millenniummon. He'd admit that he had been pretty startled after receiving Koushirou's e-mail. After all, he'd been right there when Chimeramon died. And if Mugendramon's data had found some way to come back as well, who knew which of their defeated foes would be next? There were definitely enough of them. Archnemon and Mummymon, Vamdemon, the rest of the Dark Masters, Etemon... maybe even - Takeru twitched involuntarily - Devimon, too...

And there was the matter of Iori. Daisuke was right, really; Iori wasn't just a little kid, he acted more mature than most people Takeru knew, he probably just needed a bit of time to recover. But still, losing a partner was hard. Takeru had gone through it once, and didn't wish it on anyone else, let alone one of his best friends. He couldn't help thinking that if only everybody got together and just did their best to comfort Iori, everything would be fine...

At this point, Iori rushed past, trailing a carrier bag behind him.

Takeru was taken by surprise. "Iori! Where've you -" he started to say.

But Iori didn't reply, or even look back. Instead, he turned a corner and out of sight.

A few moments later, Miyako appeared, panting. She stopped, noticing Takeru for the first time, and tried to grin sheepishly. "Uh, hehe, hi there..." She paused to catch her breath, and continued. "Did you see which way Iori went?"

"Iori? He went that way, but... what are you chasing him for?"

"Oh, nothing, no reason - aw, who am I kidding?" She clenched a fist. "That little...! Turns up in our shop, doesn't even say hello, just runs off like that, been four days since I last saw him, could've at least -"

"I guess... maybe you just scared him or something." Takeru looked over in the direction Iori had gone. "You know," he said, changing the subject, "I was thinking about what you said earlier."

Miyako skidded to a halt mid-rant. "You... were?"

"Yeah," he said. "And I agree, we do need to talk to him some time. Maybe not all confronting him like that, though... What if we all just decided to hang out in town for a day, and got him to come along? It wouldn't be as direct, but I'm sure it would help him."

"That might actually work!" Miyako clapped her hands together excitedly. "So what, do you think I should e-mail everyone about it later?"

"Everyone... yeah," Takeru echoed. "Hikari, definitely - Ichijouji lives pretty far away, I don't know if he'd agree, but - oh, and Daisuke too."

"Daisuke?" Miyako frowned. "I bet he'd just say no right away, he's not that -"

Takeru laughed. "He won't want to be left out, trust me!"

Iori surreptitiously unlocked the apartment and ducked inside. It was dark inside; that meant nobody was at home. He slammed the door and leaned against it, breathing heavily, listening out for footsteps. After a minute or so, he relaxed.

He checked the carrier bag. The little package he'd bought had torn at one end from all the jolting. It couldn't be helped, he reassured himself. And it wasn't as if it was a big tear - nothing had fallen out of it, anyway.

He sighed to himself. He'd panicked. That hadn't been the smartest thing to do. Why had he panicked, anyway? He'd done the same in front of Hikari and Taichi, just this morning. These were his friends! It wasn't as if there had been anything to be afraid of.

But no - he was afraid, a treacherous inner voice told him. He was afraid they might try and comfort him, when all he wanted was to be left alone for a while. Because, how could they understand? How could they, with all their partners right beside them... how could they know what he felt like right now?

He was being selfish and immature again, he knew it.

"Just give me a little more time, guys," he muttered, although there was nobody to hear except himself. "That's all, I promise."