Russian roulette: (noun) (1) the practice of loading a bullet into one chamber of a revolver, spinning the cylinder, and then pulling the trigger while pointing the gun at one's own head. (2) an activity that is potentially very dangerous.


When he had been but a child, playtime had been his favourite part of the day. He resisted lessons, fought bravely against phonics and maths and naptimes; recess and playtime were his favourite times, always. He had been born a leader, falling naturally into the steering of things and picking of teams; and he was always the sheriff, never the bandit. Yagami Taichi never learned how to run away.

It was clear, now, that he should've.

He groaned, his voice hoarse and dry in the damp, dingy cell he shared with Sora.

"Shh," she shushed him soothingly, her hands pressing a cool, damp cloth against his temple. "You're okay now, Taichi. You're safe."

He opened his eyes, slowly and with much difficulty. His nostrils were attacked at once with the rusty smell of blood, stale bread and damp urine. He gagged, coughing and regretting it as the motion shook his ribs, threatening to shatter them for good.

Playtime was a nightmare.

Cho-Hakkaimon, the Pig Lady, as Taichi affectionately referred to, arranged hourly playdates with him and his friends. So far it had been Jyou, Yamato and him, mostly. Sora and Mimi had been spared the worst of it, but he had a nagging suspicion it wasn't a good thing. After all, Pig Lady didn't seem to care about girls or young ones. She probably just thought the girls weren't particularly fun sports.

"Was it too bad?" Sora asked him, almost sniffling. He tried to play it down, but his smile came out as more of a grimace and she hiccupped, strained.

"Nah," he coughed again. "I can go all day."

"Did you see Palmon or the others?" Mimi asked, hands gripping the iron bars of her cell. Her face was bruising badly, and there was mud caked under her fingernails. Her hair was a mess, but they had all decided it was better not to tell her this. They had enough on their plate without having her freak out over her appearance, too.

"No," Taichi groaned. "I think I heard Gabumon though," he nodded towards Yamato. "We need to find them, try to send a message."

The hours crept upon them slowly, silently, like shadows. Hungry, tired and hurting all over, Taichi thought they made a poor sight and he had to blink a couple of times to avoid bursting into tears himself. Sora and Mimi, on the other hand, had been sobbing long enough that he could almost tune them out by now. Every now and then they could hear noises, screams, Digimon raging and yelling for them while Cho-Hakkaimon laughed like a maniac. In three days, Taichi thought he had maybe slept six or eight hours. Well, sleep was putting it mildly: he was fairly sure he had simply passed out. They had been scarcely fed, rarely allowed bathroom breaks and had not been given anything but murky water with a faint taste of bitter herbs (no doubt a bleak attempt at making tea), and his body was protesting this mistreatment already.

Sora, worrying her bottom lip relentlessly, hissed. "I have an idea," she said. "But you need to let me go next time they come for one of us."

"Are you crazy?" Yamato practically hissed. "It's not a game Sora, no matter how much she calls it one."

"You think I don't know that?" Sora murmured, eyes narrowed. "But you can't take any more beatings for me, Yamato. Just look at yourself."

"I can't—,"

"Don't," Mimi interrupted him. "Trust me, it's not pretty."

"Sorry to break it to you, princess," he deadpanned, "but you don't paint a pretty picture either."

Mimi looked on the verge of crying again, but she shrugged and her thin shoulders shook with a weak laugh. "I know," she said. "God, I know Yamato. But if Sora has an idea, she should try it. Otherwise—,"

"—otherwise we're just getting our arse kicked, for no bloody reason," Taichi finished darkly.

He knew he had lost this battle, for Sora wasn't even looking at him anymore. Yamato swallowed thickly, then turned to Mimi, ready to direct his anger at her. She seemed unfazed, blinking lazily up at him as he ground his teeth at her.

"If you have anything to say," she encouraged him weakly, "get it over with."

"I have nothing to say to you," Yamato hissed, and Mimi actually laughed.

"What else is new?"

Jyou peeked out from behind his forearm, brow furrowed and lips cracked badly. "I don't think this is the time—," he began, but Mimi was already waving him off, turning her back to both of them in an attempt to get as far away from them as she could.

"It's never the time with him," she muttered before she could stop himself and Yamato actually felt cold, as if she had slapped her right across the face.

"Mimi?" Sora questioned, confused and suspicious of her friend's sudden ire but Yamato made a tsking sound that brought her attention back to him.

"Leave it, Sora," he said coldly. "You've more important things to think about, don't you?"

-x-

They had been captured, all of them.

Koushiro had spent every day since trying to find a way to get them out, but so far he had found nothing but dead ends. He was feverish, desperate, and Tentomon had grown almost as anxious as he was. In the past four days they had attempted to break them out of their prison only once, and that had nearly costed them their life, back then.

Since their very first adventure, Koushiro had realised that hacking was a very rewarding activity in this strange, digital world. He had, successfully, hacked into storage departments, supplies, encrypted information – hidden doorways, maps and locked digital files. He had even hacked into his Digivice and successfully caused Tentomon to evolve into Kabuterimon that one time.

He had attempted to do that again, only to find out that there was something very, very odd with his friend's composition this time around. Every single time he attempted to tap into his system he not only got booted out, but Tentomon experienced strange electrical discharges, which had stilled Izumi's attempts of going further. He made a mental note to get back to that.

For now, his friends came first.

He had been working tirelessly for days now, in hacking past the firewalls that he was sure had been put up for his benefit. Yamato had helped him some, of course, but he doubted the blond knew what exactly he was helping Koushiro with. In part, it had been just that, but he had also been trying to wire him and the others to older, slightly more primitive power lines. He had kept this to himself, however, knowing that the methods he was using exposed him and his friends a lot more than strictly necessary. Still, he tried to convince himself it had been the only choice. Them being caught was … unfortunate, but it wasn't entirely Koushiro's fault, it couldn't be. It just couldn't be.

"Koushiro?"

"Just give me a minute, Tentomon."

The screen beeped, once. He connected his Digivice, took a deep breath, and tapped in the code he had been developing. A series of numbers and several lines of code appeared, each one fragmenting one after the other until the screen lit up, green, and then a pop-up window appeared. Koushiro reached up to wipe the sweat off his brow. He typed in a new command and finally, hit enter.

The screen in his Digivice went dead and he instantly knew that it had worked. Now, he thought, he only had to do this again, one more time. He closed the laptop, pocketed the Digivice and beckoned Tentomon closer to him.

"What're we doing, Izzy?" his friend called out, hesitant.

"Shh," Koushiro said with a bleak smile, "we're breaking them out of there."

-x-

Every inch of her body hurt. Hikari watched listlessly as Takeru paced up and down the cell. His blond hair was dirty, knotted and his face was muddy and soiled. Her clothes were a disgrace and so was her hair, but she had long since stopped worrying about it. Brown-gold eyes followed his movements and when he stopped to grip the rusty iron bars of the cell they were in, she actually spoke up.

"Takeru?"

"Shh," he said, "I think someone's coming."

A pair of WereMonzaemon entered, looking at them derisively. Hikari frowned, feeling strangely drained of energy now that they had come closer and stopped directly in front of Takeru.

"The boss is calling for you," one of them said. "Says your friends isn't cooperating, so she'll be wanting you to join 'em."

"Join them where?" Takeru asked, suspiciously.

The WereMonzaemon smiled sinisterly.

"Playtime."

Hikari couldn't see him, but she knew Takeru had suddenly grown angry.

"Forget it," he spat. "We're not her toys."

"Sure you are, human," the WereMonzaemon said. "Everything in Toy Town is Cho-Hakkaimon's toy!"

They opened the cell and Takeru and Hikari both knew better than fighting them. The numerous cuts and bruises on their arms and faces hadn't been made by the dark Digimon that ordered them to jail, but by their jailers. They didn't bother cuffing them now, knowing they wouldn't even try to escape in their condition.

The corridor was short but narrow, cold and smelled suspiciously of stale food and bad plumbing. They were led not outside, as they imagined they would, but into a grand room that had a number of toys, stuffed animals, choo-choo trains, jack-in-the-box and different games that he would have been delighted to see back when he was eight. Too bad, he thought, that these toys were all broken.

At first, he hadn't seen her. She was sitting at the end of a large table laden with all sorts of food that made Takeru's stomach growl impatiently, much to his chagrin. He chanced a glance at Hikari, who decidedly ignored the food and was glaring listlessly at their pronounced enemy.

Cho-Hakkaimon was, in no better term, a pig. Her face was stuffed with food and she kept eating, and eating, and only stopped for two seconds to glance at them before ripping apart half a roast chicken and eating it, bones and all.

Yikes.

"Here's the kids, ma'am," one WereMonzaemon said, shifting uncomfortably from side to side. "Er, if you will…"

"Yeah, yeah," Cho-Hakkaimon said. "You can leave them here. You two hungry?" She scratched her chin, then wiped some grease off her face with a white napkin. "I bet you are. I always forget to feed the prisoners."

He wanted to yell that they weren't, that they didn't need her or her food, but he could practically feel Hikari swaying beside him. Grudgingly he approached the table, leading Hikari to an adjacent chair, just out of reach from their unlikely hostess.

"Go on," she said, waving a hand. "Eat whatever you want, I don't care."

Takeru reached out for a piece of bread, tearing it open effortlessly – it was so fresh, the smell of wafted immediately into his nose, making his stomach grumble again. He took a nibble and it was heaven on the tip of his tongue. At his almost imperceptible nod, Hikari too, grabbed a piece of meat and started cutting it patiently.

They were too hungry and the food was too good for him to care too much, so he allowed a couple of minutes to go by without speaking. It was Hikari, at last, who spoke.

"Not that we're not grateful for the food," she began kindly, "but we'd really like to know why you brought us here."

The Digimon was in between chewing on what looked like half a stuffed turkey, swallowing loudly and drinking deeply from a tankard of what looked like some sort of pale ale. She sighed, picking at her teeth for a moment, then snickering.

"They told me you were accompanied by an Angemon and an Angewomon, but all I've seen is a couple of Rookies, and a couple of beat-ass human kids. I think I've been cheated."

"Where are our Digimon?" Takeru asked, just as she picked a pie and shoved it into her mouth, loudly.

"Somewhere in the dungeons," she managed after swallowing. "They're fine. They're even being fed, just like you."

"Why?"

"Because," Cho-Hakkaimon said, "I don't like being cheated. I told that flying potato of yours that I'd have his angelic head and I intend to do so. But he will not – EVOLVE," the last word was almost screamed, and Takeru actually dropped his fork with a clang. "On top of that, my boss insists she wants to see you, but I don't want to because a) it's super boring where she lives, and b) I want to play!" She stopped, cracked her knuckles and her neck and looked back at them, half-mad and ravenous. "Plus, I'm hungry. And I'm so freaking tired of being hungry. You tell Angewomon that, will ya?"

"What's she got to do with—,"

"Everything!" Cho-Hakkaimon screeched. "She's got everything to do with this, everything, everything, everything!"

A Mushmon rushed forward, carrying a tray of pies, preserves and sweets.

"My lady!"

"I'm fine," she said, waving him off. "I'm fine, really, just – just leave those here, will ya? Attamon."

The Mushmon rushed out just as easily as Cho-Hakkaimon wolfed down half the tray before Takeru even finished his crabapple juice. He was full, and had only managed to stuff his pockets with some more food while she had her little breakdown.

"Anyway, you ate, didn't you?" she asked lazily. "You can go back and sleep. We'll play tomorrow, and you better make your Digi-idiots digivolve. I'm not as nice in the morning, I'll have you know."

They could hear her demanding more food, even as they left.

The first thing they did was wrap all the food items they had brought in the napkins they had also stolen from the table. They hid this in a corner of the cell, as far as possible from the filth they were currently trapped with. Hikari lied down in the hard bed, turning over to look at Takeru as he twirled a piece of wire between his fingers, tongue peeking out from between his teeth.

"What do you think she wants?"

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked. "We're going to fight her, Hikari."

-x-

It was worse than she remembered. Cho-Hakkaimon was angry, for some reason, and Sora was beginning to seriously regret her decision to come forward. Then she saw Piyomon and knew that there had been no other way.

"Piyomon!" she screamed.

"Sora!" the sweet little bird chirped weakly, half-running, half-gliding to meet her partner.

Cho-Hakkaimon jumped and landed, quite gracefully, in front of them.

"Are you tired, little bird?" she asked. "I asked you to sing."

What happened next was something neither Sora nor Piyomon had planned. A side of the courtroom exploded, sending piles of blocks, dust and fragments of glass everywhere. Sora covered her face with her arms but she felt the cuts and stones that hit her in the process, despite Piyomon's attempt to protect her. And there, stepping from the debris like some great monster plucked from the depths of her worst nightmares, stood a giant skeleton-bug of the likes she had never seen before.

He screeched and Sora had to cover her ears, screaming loudly because she could feel her eardrums aching deep inside. It was a horrible bug with moth-eaten wings and a distinct smell of rot following him as he smashed the WereMonzaemon on his way.

"WHAT IS THIS? WHO LET THIS DIGIMON IN?"

Piyomon was still trying to move rocks out of their way, beating her wings to make the smoke dissipate when she was yanked painfully to the floor.

"What the—,"

"Don't lift the smoke just yet! Let's use it for cover while you take me to—," there was a loud crash as Cho-Hakkaimon landed a blow on the monter's back. It was a mistake: instantly he turned on her, sending a vicious spout of electric power right into her face. "—now!"

"Koushiro-kun?" Sora asked dazedly, not waiting to hear confirmation and suddenly understanding why the monster was familiar: it ought to have been Kabuterimon. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Sora ran.

"Koushiro! How did you – where were – what's going on?"

"No time," he panted, "I'll explain later I'll just—," he took out his laptop even as they ran, sliding and almost crashing into a pair of confused guards that ran to their mistress commands and the loud commotion in the manor. Sora led him down the narrow corridor, and into the run-down prison that housed them.

"Koushiro?"

"Open the cells, Sora," he ordered, tossing a ring of keys towards her. "I need to do something."

He set his laptop on a low table, punching in a few more codes and finally, ENTER.

At first, nothing happened. Then his Digivice jumpstarted and a signal appeared on the screen. He glanced at it, muttered something to himself and nodded. When he turned around, he was surprised to find his friends glaring at Sora and, he realised, at him.

"Where are Takeru and Hikari?" Yamato demanded.

"What—?" he looked around, confused. "They're supposed to be here, with you."

"No," Yamato said, ignoring Sora's protests, "they're supposed to be outside, free. Weren't they with you?"

"You were all captured," Koushiro said, closing up his laptop and doing a mental countdown of the minutes. "I thought they were here…"

"We need to find them, then!" Taichi exclaimed.

"There's no time," Koushiro answered, alarmed. "We've got exactly seventeen minutes before it all goes to hell. I need to get you out of here now."

"I'm not leaving without my sister!"

"Taichi!"

"We need to find our Digimon," Jyou said slowly. "If we want to get out of here…"

"I-I'll try, but I can't guarantee anything. Can-can you…?" he offered Jyou a digitalized map, marking a set path. "Follow this out of the complex, it'll take you to a safehouse."

"Kou?" Mimi asked, looking around. "Where's Tentomon?"

He exchanged a look with Sora and opened his mouth, grimacing. "I'll get him back," he said, speaking directly to her. "I'll try to find the others, and your Digivices, if I can. Please get out of here, Sora."

He did not give them time to argue. If his calculations were correct (and they almost always were), he had fourteen minutes to get to the other dungeons and find what he had come for. He ran as fast as his skinny legs would take him, jumping over rubble and breathing through the cloth of his sleeve to avoid most of the dust and debris from bringing him to a premature stop.

The corridor was abandoned, the commotion calling for most of the armed forces in the courtroom (or rather, what was left of it), leaving Koushiro to a mostly uninterrupted run for the goods. It was a suicidal mission, he knew that, but he could not fail his friends again. He made a few turns, had to duck and hide behind dirty cupboard doors but finally found himself in the room where the objects supposedly were.

He was both mildly surprised and pleased to find that Cho-Hakkaimon had not installed any sort of security whatsoever and he could just go inside and take the things, which was exactly what he did. With them secured in his backpack, he then made a run back, but somehow took a wrong turn, which was how he, quite by accident, found himself in the dungeons facing Takeru and Hikari.

"Koushiro-kun!" Takeru greeted him. "How—what are you doing here?"

Eight minutes.

"Takeru, Hikari," Koushiro gasped. "Is there—let me try…" the door would not budge and he did not have the time to think of a way to break it open. Instead, he did the next best thing he could think of, and rummaged inside his backpack for their D3s. "I'm so sorry," he mumbled. "I need to get out there before—I just need to get out now. Hide your Digivices, and I swear I'll come and get you."

"Are the others okay?" Hikari asked, taking her Digivice and holding it firmly in her hand. "Are they safe?"

"They're out," Koushiro assured her. "Or should be, by now."

"Go," Takeru said in a hushed voice. "I don't know what the hell's going on out there but things are bound to get quiet if Cho-Hakkaimon has her way."

Five minutes.

The next cells were open, trashed, but empty. He could only hope his friends had managed to get their Digimon and go outside. Again he opened his computer and this time, punched in the initial code that he had been trying out with Tentomon. He ran into the courtroom just as it was exploding in chaos, with Digimon fighting against the huge SkullKabuterimon that trashed like an angry, stupid beast, against everything that moved.

The Digimon seemed to grow in rage, glow in a violent electric shock and crumble to pieces, at which point Koushiro made a run for it, reaching out to grab its feeble, tiny form and try to slip away from the commotion as their enemies tried to figure out what the hell had happened to the monster attacking them. He heard a shriek of rage, angry orders for food and a wail that would make his ears ring well into the night before he took a dive into a sewage hole and closed the heavy lid with a loud clang.

He was still unconscious by the time Koushiro finally made it to the safehouse. Mimi was the one who greeted him, sitting in a corner of the abandoned warehouse where he had made his refuge. The trapdoor to the cellar was cleverly hidden by old, hollow boxes and it was on top of one of these that Mimi sat. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she looked tired, bruised and hurt in different places with dark, blue circles under her eyes. She looked like she had been crying.

"Koushiro," she murmured softly, letting out a soft sigh, relieved. "I'm so glad you made it out."

He didn't speak, still holding on to Motimon's limp body, trying desperately not to panic, not to think much about how cold he felt or how shallow his breathing was. He only walked past her, cradling the Digimon to his arms as he climbed down to the cellar.

They had all been waiting for him, both Taichi and Yamato immediately jumping to their feet when he arrived. The rest of the Digimon, he was glad to see, were fine, huddled with their partners for warmth, wrapped in old blankets and their sleeping bags. It wasn't safe to start a fire, and Koushiro was once again surprised his friends had thought of this much.

"Where's Hikari?" Taichi asked. "Takeru? Patamon and Tailmon… are they behind?"

"No," Koushiro barely formed the word. "I had to leave them."

"You left our siblings there? Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"I tried, Yamato," Koushiro explained through gritted teeth, holding the little bundle closer to his chest. "I ran out of time, I could barely give them—," but he could not continue, because Yamato had crossed the room and had picked him off the floor, holding him by the collar of his shirt.

"You left them there," Yamato repeated in a low, dangerous voice. "I can't believe you would do that, considering…"

"Considering what?" Koushiro demanded.

"I saw what you were working on. And I told them, too."

"We need to talk about this, Kou," Taichi said, very seriously. "I want to hear it from you."

Koushiro knew what he was talking about but he couldn't … he wouldn't … he swallowed with some difficulty, trying to get Yamato off his collar but in doing so, the blond only got angrier.

"How long were you going to keep this from us, hm? You could've killed us, Izumi. You nearly fucking did!" he reached out at the same time that Koushiro did, which ended up in both roughing the other up. But Yamato was taller, and stronger, and more used to fighting than Izzy was, so before he knew it he had sent the redhead to the floor, clocking him in the cheek and half-lying on top of him.

"Yamato, stop!" Sora screamed, while Mimi called out something similar and Taichi and Jyou jumped to their feet, their Digimon friends rising, alarmed, against the sudden noise.

Koushiro yelped, alarmed, as Motimon's still unconscious form fell to the floor, eyes closed and mouth hanging open. Koushiro pushed Yamato off himself, throwing the blond to the floor and moving to recover his friend, holding him to his chest, the tears welling in the rim of his eyes.

Nobody moved, nobody spoke. It was as if the world had shrunk and emerged, dead.

Sora was the first to move, walking over to help Yamato, who was still stunned into silence, staring at Koushiro. Mimi walked past him, half shoving him into Sora, sending him her purest look of deepest loathing once she reached her friend. He tried to shove her off first, but then stopped, shivering as she took Motimon from him, holding him gently in her arms.

"It's okay, Koushiro," she said softly, "we'll be okay, just – just tell us what happened."

"It was my fault," he whispered, so only she could hear. "Mimi, you don't understand, this was all my fault."

"No," she said, raising her voice. "It wasn't all your fault."

He was barely aware of her moving, only sensing her movements out of the corner of his eye. Mimi walked towards Jyou, who gently took Motimon from her and laid him on his own sleeping bag, quickly going through his bag of supplies. Koushiro and Tentomon had gone back to the sewers to retrieve everything and erase all evidence of them being there, in case they ever needed to use it again. It had proved to be useless, since he now knew they weren't returning whatsoever, but at least their things were safe.

Taichi passed him a bottle of water, grim-faced. The bruises and cuts on his face managed to make him look less friendly, more menacing, and Koushiro found that he could not look him in the eye. Mimi and Jyou looked up from where they worked quietly, barely making a sound. And on the other side sat Yamato, sporting a freshly cut lip and eyes of the coldest, bluest steel.

"Besides what we all discussed, Mr. Gennai and I had … other theories about what was going on. We agreed not to tell you; we didn't want to worry you in case we were wrong," Koushiro deadpanned. "I was trying to plug us into Etemon's electrical lines, that's what you saw, when you went through my files," he couldn't help the sting of betrayal he felt, that Yamato had gone through his personal things, but part of him also knew that it had been his fault for keeping it from them.

Koushiro took a deep breath, banging his head softly against the wooden crates behind him. "I've spent weeks on this thing, breaking protocols, writing up code after code, hacking into a tough nut only to find a tougher one." His eyes were dulled, fingers trembling slightly as he ran them through short, red hair. He stopped suddenly, taking his backpack and sliding it across the little room, right to Taichi's feet. "The day you were caught, I had just launched an initial pilot to figure out a more accurate dimension of the Digiworld we're in."

"What do you mean, 'the Digiworld we're in'?" Taichi asked, retrieving his Digivice and letting his fingers wrap around its familiar, comforting weight. "It's the same Digiworld we've known, just a little mixed up, isn't it?"

"I'm not exactly sure," Koushiro replied lazily. "I just – don't know, anymore. The program is still running, I haven't had a response in days. I hacked into your Digivices, and my own, trying to figure out what was going on and track you, but there was too much going on and I didn't have the time to figure it all out."

"Plugging us into the network, Taichi, gives us visibility of the map. But it also means our data is free out there, for anyone to take. If whomever brought us here had looked at the right moment, we could've all been dead now." Yamato remained quiet, elbows hanging off his knees, blond hair obscuring his face.

They were silent for a while, taking it all in.

"And what – what happened to Tentomon?" Sora asked, timidly. He looked straight into her eyes before answering. She had been closest to him, had seen him with her own ruby eyes. Koushiro thought of lying, denying he had anything to do with that, but he only hung his head low.

"I was trying to help him Digivolve. Before I knew it he had turned into – into that, and there was nothing I could do to stop it," his tongue felt heavy, and the lie tasted like bile rising from his throat. "So I just went on to save you. I managed to get Takeru and Hikari their Digivices, though," Koushiro added hastily. "I didn't just leave them, I tried—,"

"That's enough, Kou," Jyou said, walking over to him with a blanket. "I suggest we all get some rest and talk strategy in the morning. I don't think we'll have much time to save them now she knows we've broken out."

Taichi sighed, nodding reluctantly. "I don't want to wait, but there's hardly anything we can do at this point," he rubbed his temple, hard. "We'll talk about this once Hikari and the others are safe," he spoke directly to Koushiro now. "And you'll explain everything to me."

Sora and Mimi had gone on to wash upstairs, and it was only Jyou, Yamato and Koushiro in the small room.

"You should've told us," Yamato said, pausing as he walked past. "We could've done something, we could've helped," and then he gave him a look of disappointment so cruel, Koushiro couldn't stand his gaze and dropped his, grey eyes clouded with guilt and despair. "You can't be so selfish, Koushiro. It's all of our lives, you've put in danger now, not just yours or Motimon's."

Carefully, Taichi crawled outside. Under the cover of the night he was able to wash in the garden's faucet, then nibble on the food that Koushiro had kept in storage for them. It wasn't great, but to Taichi, who had been eating nothing but moldy bread and murky water, it tasted like heaven. He sat against the wall, when a rush of shrubbery startled him, making him drop his bread. It stopped mid-air, held by near invisible ropes he now recognised as vines.

"Palmon?" he asked, still scared beyond his wit. "You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing out here?"

"I'm sorry," the plant-like Digimon said, letting him retrieve his dinner. "I needed the air, and the soil. We were surrounded by cement all this time … I was nearly starved."

"Oh," he said stupidly. "Yeah, I bet."

"Are you very mad at Koushiro-kun?" she asked, wringing her fingers in a gesture so reminiscent of her partner, Taichi had to smile.

"I think we're all mad, Palmon," he said. "My sister is still in that place. Yamato's brother, our friends. And you – you know what's happening to them. What happened to all of us."

Even she had been trampled on, Taichi could see it. Her leaves had taken on a yellowish appearance, her flower had darkened in a sad, sickly manner, and she smelled vaguely like rotting lettuce. Though, if he was fair, he knew he looked like shit himself.

"She won't hurt Hikari-chan or Takeru-kun," Palmon said after a moment, deep in thought. "It's their Digimon she's after."

In the morning, the atmosphere was still heavy and tense. Koushiro had barely been able to sleep and what little he had was bad. His whole body ached and hurt in every place and the only thing that stopped him from complaining was taking a look at his companions and friends. By night it had been hard to tell but in the morning light, he was horrified to see evidence of what his friends had been put through. They were all bruised, cut and swollen in places with deep gashes and wounds that would scar unless treated soon.

Taichi had wanted to jump right into action but Jyou had stopped him once more, begging him to give him time to treat everyone's wounds before they dove into what was, though no one said so, another suicide mission. Yamato and Koushiro were not speaking, and neither was Mimi deigning to look at their blond friend. He was overwhelmed by the sentiment her fierce protectiveness brought, but it was dampened by the guilt at having exposed her life so carelessly, and her not even knowing about it. The thought made him ache, so he sat at his computer, careful not to glance over at where Motimon slept soundly.

He had woken up hours after being treated, groggy and tired but sound and well as far as they could tell. Koushiro had been relieved, but he had not gone to see him, and had refused any contact since. Part of him was terrified to confirm that Motimon, too, was angry at him; part of him was afraid he wouldn't be.

Both seemed equally hideous options.

Attacking in the middle of the day seemed like a stupid idea, everyone said so, but it was also the only idea they had. He sat on a box, fingers hacking away as he concentrated carefully on what was happening before him. He didn't know what was missing, why his program wasn't advancing as he anticipated or what—

"Koushiro?"

He tensed, glancing at Tentomon, freshly evolved after a night of sleep and a decent breakfast. "Hey," he said, clearing his throat. "I'm – er, glad to see you're okay."

"Thanks," the Digimon said stiffly, perhaps feeling as awkward as his human partner did. "Ne, Koushiro…"

"Can we talk later?" Koushiro said, looking back at his screen, "I'm kind of busy and we've got a lot to do right now."

"Oh, yeah," Tentomon said, moving his pincers sheepishly, "no, of course you are. Sorry to bother you, I'll … go help somewhere."

"Mm-hm," Koushiro said, and the rock that he felt he had swallowed, fell deep into the pits of his stomach. He was, officially, the world's biggest prick.

-x-

Sometimes she felt she wasn't given nearly enough credit.

After last night's break-in, Hikari, Takeru, Patamon and Tailmon had been moved together to their little cell. It was a little more crowded, but at least they were reunited with their partners, which was a huge improvement from before. They also had their Digivices now, which was more than they'd had before, but still not enough to attempt to break out. Instead, they fed them the food they had smuggled out of Cho-Hakkaimon's table and nursed them back to health, horrified to learn that they had been treated like disposable toys for the entire duration of their incarceration. By comparison, Takeru and Hikari had been treated like royalty. That was, of course, until now.

Hikari had never known pain like this. It felt like, at any moment, every bone in her body would break. She ran, and ran, and ran, trying to avoid Cho-Hakkaimon's mental attacks; it was all she could do to help Tailmon, who kept trying her best to fight the bigger, stronger Digimon.

"Why – won't – you – digivolve?" she shrieked.

At that moment, Hikari wondered why, too. But whenever she tried to channel the energy to guide Tailmon, she felt drained, and heavy, and strange, and it didn't work at all. From what she could see of Takeru and Patamon, they were having the same kind of trouble.

"What do you want from us?" Hikari yelled from behind a pillar, half-sobbing. "You won't take us anywhere and you won't let us go — what do you want?"

"I want Ophanimon. I want your guardian to show me her true colours," she drew closer, her eyes glinting with malice, mouth salivating as she spoke. "And I want to destroy you."

The roar of an explosion boomed across the courtyard and Cho-Hakkaimon's eyes, half-crazed, widened comically before the sight in front of her. Greymon and Togemon had punched a hole on the outer wall, beating the guards as easily as if they were toys. Above them, Birdramon roared, raining fire on trees, benches and Digimon alike. Hikari breathed, relieved.

"You again?" Cho-Hakkaimon shrieked loudly. "I will bloody kill you this time! Strike, Strike, Strike — Mince!" she yelled, running at them with her weapon at the ready. A couple of WereMonzaemon ran to her help, enclosing Greymon and WereGarurumon where they were, but she ran at them and cut and slashed through them as easy as if they had been nothing but stuffed animals.

Hikari screamed, somewhere in the midst of all that chaos. Patamon, now evolved into Angemon, came to her rescue, picking her up from behind a crumbling column and taking her somewhere safe, away from the fighting.

"Hikari!" Takeru yelled, shaking her. "Hikari, are you okay?"

"She's just killing them," Hikari whispered. "She's just – just killing them. Oh, God, Takeru, stop her."

Hanging above one of the tall balconies, Koushiro typed away on his laptop while Kabuterimon, at his behest, tried to help with the fight. It was amazing how six Digimon were barely enough to contain Cho-Hakkaimon and her small army, and how quickly they were gaining ground on the Chosen.

"Koushiro!" Yamato yelled. "Start it now!"

"I can't!" Koushiro screamed back. "It's not ready!"

"Koushiro!"

"Kabuterimon!" Koushiro snapped. "Can you digivolve?"

"Just tell me what to do—," Yamato began, climbing over the ledge to reach him.

"No! You keep doing what you're doing, I'll get it done," he snapped.

"Koushiro, we're a te—,"

"I don't need your help!" he finally screamed. "I'm trying to fix this, we have one chance, one shot—,"

"Then let us help!"

"YOU CAN'T!" he roared. "DON'T YOU SEE?"

Their Digimon were exhausted from all the time spent in Cho-Hakkaimon's playground, as he had feared they would be. They fell one by one, and from his vantage point, they looked like little more than toys as they fell unconscious into the dirt. He saw Taichi reach for Agumon, throwing rocks at Cho-Hakkaimon and trying to punch and kick his way out of a hoard of Mushmon on his way.

"You need to Digivolve," he said softly to Kabuterimon, "now."

The monster appeared before he had half a mind to think it would, snapping angrily at him before turning to Cho-Hakkaimon with a vice.

"You," she spat as she saw the huge, undead bug, "I've been waiting to get my hands on ya."

Between SkullKabuterimon and Cho-Hakkaimon, nobody was quite sure who was delivering the worst blows. They were not sparring, they were duelling to death and one or the other would fall sooner than later. Koushiro, with tears in his eyes, watched helplessly as his friend was thrown to the air, kicked back into the dirt and was pummelled once, and twice and again, by a Digimon that looked angrier with every passing second.

"You mess with my house," she shrieked, "—with my toys, my subjects and my food. I'll kill you. I will kill you and all your friends and I won't let—,"

Another hit.

She laughed, viciously high and cold. "This is all you can do, Bearer of Knowledge? Hack into your friend's system, like you tried to hack into mine? You think I wouldn't notice, someone messing with my data?" her eye twitched. "I noticed."

Boom! Another gun went off, this time burning a hole through one of his wings.

"You can't hack into our system. This is too big for you. I am too big for you."

Crush.

The foul sound of exoskeleton, breaking.

Koushiro fell to his knees, panting hard. Yamato reached over, shaking him.

"Koushiro!" Takeru yelled. "DO SOMETHING!"

He never had to think about it. Koushiro somehow ripped himself from Yamato's grasp, deaf to the other boy's protests as he jumped over the balcony and fell into the tiled roof, scrambling not to roll down the slope with too much force, breaking tiles wherever he stepped.

"Kabuterimon!" he yelled, "I'm sorry — I'm so sorry buddy," and he jumped from the edge, landing painfully on his Digimon's left flank. Groaning he got to his knees, ignoring the pulsing pain, the reddened vision. "I'm so sorry," he repeated. "I don't know what to do, I don't know what I was thinking — I need your help. Please," he moaned. "Please come back to me. I can't do this without you, please…"

It was true and he meant it; he was nothing without Tentomon, nothing without his friends, who each taught him something about all the ways in the world that he could never know about without them. Taichi-san had taught him about being courageous, about doing always what was good. Jyou-senpai had taught him all about self-sacrifice and putting others above yourself. Sora-chan had taught him that friends too, could become family, and Yamato — despite everything, he knew that Yamato understood what trust meant more than anyone in the world. He thought of Mimi-san, who always smiled in the face of darkness, or Hikari and Takeru, who never gave up, and he wondered how he could've been so ignorant of his own heart, so naïve of his own nature.

This was what he was fighting for — this, and all the others.

The warmth that engulfed them was bright enough that Cho-Hakkaimon had to cover her face, which was what Angemon took advantage of to run straight at her with his staff, hitting her right in the gut. The pig-Digimon fell to her knees, clutching her stomach as she retched, the stench of bile joining the rusty smell of blood and dust in the battlefield.

"I'm so hungry," she whined, half-delirious. "I'm so … hungry…"

"Give up," Angemon said, looming above her. "You're done."

"She won't send me away again," she spat, rising. "And you won't either, Angemon."

But instead of coming at him, she turned around, running to where her guards stood, pointing their weapons at the humans and Digimon they had rounded up. She reached a Mushmon first and before anyone could tell what she was about to do, she picked him up, ripped him in half and sank her teeth into him, swallowing him in two bites. The Digimon ran, hysterical, but she picked one after the other, ripping him to pieces and eating them whole. Her eyes gleamed red and she was crying, but she wouldn't stop, couldn't stop, and everyone was too tired or too horrified to move.

He came seemingly out of nowhere, his golden armour shining in the midmorning sun. And atop him stood Koushiro, left eye closed and bleeding, but determined nonetheless. He opened his huge mouth, letting out a blast of energy directly at her.

"Mega Electro Shocker!"

Cho-Hakkaimon could not dodge all of the attack, her armour singed and cracked in various places. "No," she moaned, grabbing her own arm. "You're not going to defeat me. You can't!"

"I think I'll have you well-done," she spat, and in a second, orange flames erupted all around her body. She jumped at him, stepping on various parts of HerculesKabuterimon's head to reach Koushiro. Her smile was the worst thing he had ever seen and seconds later, he thought it'd be the last. She had pulled him to her, latching onto him like a tick. His body screamed as the flames touched him, and he closed his eyes, the screams dying in his throat as he fell blind and unconscious from the pain.

HerculesKabuterimon gave a terrible roar, his rage unstoppable as he charged against Cho-Hakkaimon and Koushiro, pincers at the ready. He had become fast — much faster than she had, and he managed to pinch her away from Koushiro, jaw clenching as he realised his friend was safe in Angemon's arms. Channelling his energy and ignoring the painful blaze that singed the soft flesh of his mouth and face underneath his armour, he closed pincers with a loud, echoing clang.

"Giga Scissor Claw!"

He felt her break between his pincers, spine cracking audibly under all her pink, childish armour. He let her body fall to the floor, limp as a rag doll as he rushed to Koushiro's side, achingly worried for his friend.

Her hand rose weakly, pointing at Taichi as her body started disintegrating, smile still etched pathetically on her bloodied face.

"You were my favourite," she choked out, "I wish – we could've had more time to play."

Hikari approached the dying Digimon, feeling nothing but hatred and disgust for it, for the way she had treated her friends, murdered her allies, gorged on the flesh of her subjects. Tailmon was in her arms, watching her disdainfully, the way Angewomon sometimes did, and it was now that Cho-Hakkaimon laughed at last, looking at her.

"I'll find you again. In any world, in every lifetime … I won't stop until I kill you."

"It wasn't me," Tailmon said softly. "I'm not the Ophanimon that banished you, fallen one."

"You will be," Cho-Hakkaimon said, "you're the last one there is," she turned to one side, smiling, seemingly into the air. "Sorry boss. Better luck next time."

And thus, she stilled.

Koushiro sat on the floor, wounds being dressed by Jyou and Mimi, who wouldn't stop crying and fussing over him.

"I was so worried," she moaned, "God, Kou, you don't do things like that!"

"I'm sorry, Mimi-san," he said quietly, holding Tentomon in his arms. "I really am, you know."

"I know," Tentomon said. "It was just a malfunction, but we fixed it. We're fixers, it's what we do."

We're not quite done fixing this one yet, he thought, but he did not say it.

"Are you okay?" Yamato asked his younger brother, moving the hair from his face whilst Takeru sighed contentedly.

"I'm fine, Aniki," he said. "Better than you, at least. Have you looked at yourself, truly looked?"

"You're such a little shit," Yamato gasped, pulling him into a one-armed hug. "I'm glad you're okay."

"We should get out of here," Takeru said, making his brother stop. "This place is a mess." He followed his gaze towards Taichi, who was on his knee, holding Hikari's hand as she shook her head, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Mimi, are you coming?" Piyomon asked, making Sora glance over her shoulder at her friend, who had stalled.

"Just a minute!"

Sora approached her, bending down to see what Mimi was looking at.

"Mimi?"

"This looks like … what Yamato and I found in the woods, that first time," she said, looking at the strange markings in a stone table on the courtyard. "Do you think—,"

"I don't think you should touch that—," Sora began, pulling at Mimi's arm, but she had already gotten her Digivice and matched it to the little stone openings.

"I think I should," she said, satisfied as it clicked, shone in a soft pink glow and sent a jet of white light up into the skies. Mimi and Sora watched, fascinated as the glow diminished, the light faded and the Digivice beeped again before falling silent. They heard the distinct sound of gears moving, but could not fathom where they were and Sora pulled on Mimi's hand before she could think of asking where it came from.

"Come on," she urged her, "we need to tell the others what just happened."

Word spread like wildfire and after they emerged from the manor they found the real Monzaemon and he was teary, crying heavily as he thanked them for ridding his humble home from the threat of Cho-Hakkaimon. He offered his town's hospitality and after the terrible week they had lived through, nay a soul could resist the offer.

Since his manor was destroyed during the seize, they were offered lodging in a quaint little pub in the town centre, food and anything they could fit from the vanity stores in the main street. Mimi felt tempted to visit these boutiques but at the first mention of a warm bath and food, she was gone for the rest of the evening, emerging only after hours of soaking in soapy water and making herself pretty. When she finally came down for dinner, she could hardly be said to have been kept prisoner for the past week.

Their meal was not too grand or elegant but it was warm, fresh and filling, and no-body complained about the lack of pheasant on the table. By the time night fell, they were well-fed, cleaned up and more tired than they had ever been, deciding to retire to a quiet night of sleep before the hassle of continuing their adventure. Taichi asked Koushiro and Mimi to stay for a while though, intending to discuss some details with them first.

Mimi had her hair pulled up in a messy bun and Palmon was gently rolling her ivy vines around her back, trying (and rather succeeding, actually) to massage the knots of her back muscles.

"…so then it lit up like a beacon while you were running away from the place, and it just sort of beeped and … well, died."

Koushiro turned her Digivice over in his fingers, brow deeply furrowed. He wore a square of gauze above his left eye, Jyou having deemed it too soon to expose it again after so many vessels bursting in his eyeball. Koushiro personally thought he looked rather stupid, but Mimi insisted it was a good look for him. 'Kind of like a pirate', she had said.

"It doesn't look any different," he said after a moment. "Are you sure it glowed pink?"

"Am I ever not sure about pink?" Mimi rolled her eyes. "Really, Kou."

"I wish you wouldn't call me that," he frowned, but she only snickered.

"Can we please focus?" Taichi asked, irritably. "I'm really fucking tired and I really want to go to bed, so could you—," he waved his arms, roughly, "not do that?"

"We're all tired, Taichi," Mimi sighed.

He looked like he was about to say something but Koushiro cleared his throat and turned to the girl before he could. "Do you mind me keeping this tonight?" he asked, "I want to take a look at it before I go to bed, if that's okay with you."

"That's … fine," she said. "I'll try not to get attacked in the middle of the night, for your convenience."

"Mimi…"

"I'm just joking, Kou," she said, smiling sadly. "Have we completely lost our sense of humor?"

"Don't sweat it Mi," Taichi said with a yawn. "He never had one to begin with."

"You're funny," Koushiro deadpanned. "You're really funny, Taichi-san. I wonder how I never noticed before."

"I'm going to go now," Taichi said as he stood. "Before you end up saying something that'll hurt both of us."

"You mean you."

"Whose side are you on again?"

"No side," Mimi yawned. "Too tired to take any sides. Good night, boys. Off we go, Palmon." She sashayed out of the room, stretching her arms above her head. Upon seeing Palmon looking as tired as she felt. She bent down and carried her in her arms, opening the door to the room they were sharing and setting her on one side of the low, comfy bed and settling herself on the other one.

When it became clear she was not sleeping yet, Mimi decided to go out for some fresh air, maybe see if she could get herself a warm drink to make her sleepy. She tiptoed out of the bedroom, wrapping her arms around herself as she made her way to the staircase. She was stopped by the sight of Taichi on the open balcony, hesitating only a moment before following him outside.

He felt her small hand on him and he jumped a little, startled.

"Oh," he said, "it's you."

"Yes, me," Mimi said. "Mi?"

Taichi snorted. "You're not funny."

Mimi sighed, shrugging. "I guess not."

"At least you're pretty," he countered with a shrug of his own.

"At least? Excuse you."

She hitched her chin up at him, walking past to lean into the balcony and breathe the fresh air. The inn wasn't too big and from their position on the third floor, they could see well into the town that had treated them so poorly since they arrived. The night wasn't alive with laughter, as they once remembered the Digiworld to be. They could hear some activity, construction mainly, taking place in the manor at the far end of town, and some repairs to homes that had been damaged by Cho-Hakkaimon's daily patrols.

The wind blew softly, and Taichi looked down at Mimi's white neck, the bruises there standing out horribly under the half-moonlight. Tentatively, he reached out to touch her, very softly. He felt her shiver under his fingertips, turning very slightly to see him.

"Taichi?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you," he murmured, and his feather-light touch evolved into a soft grip on the back of her neck, half turning her to him. Mimi shrugged out of it, leaning with her elbows on the wooden rail.

"It's not your sole responsibility, you know," she said softly, eyes half-closed. "We're not children anymore, you don't have—,"

"I do have to," he said, his fingers rising to touch the outline of her jaw. "But I want to, too."

Mimi looked up at him, finding it rather annoying that she had to look up while he looked down at her, and how warm his eyes seemed to be. Her lips parted and she grinned before she could do anything else, playfully shoving him off.

"You're a worrywart," she said. "But I guess that your job, after all."

"Taichi, are you—oh."

They both jumped a little, startled. Yamato was standing on the doorframe, looking at them levelly, blue eyes fixed on Taichi's fingers near Mimi's face. As if they burned, Taichi raised his hand, rubbing the back of his neck as Mimi hugged herself, half turning her body away from him.

She gave a little cough. "Well, I'm off to the kitchens, you don't suppose they'll have some warm milk and honey, do you?"

Taichi shrugged casually. "They might. You're a lucky girl."

Mimi ignored his words, his smile and the way his eyes twinkled with mischief and delight, rolling her eyes at him. "Whatever. Good night."

Yamato watched her leave, coughing discretely into his fist. "What was that about?" he asked, looking straight at the brunet, who stared after Mimi even after she disappeared, a goofy smile on his lips.

"That was a moment, I believe," he admitted after a while, scratching his chin, "that you ruined, of course."

"You weren't having a moment," Yamato said, taking great care in his words. "Stop being an idiot."

"Now we'll never know, will we?" Taichi answered irritably. "What did you want, anyway? I thought we were all so bloody tired. Hikari just finally went to bed."

"We need to talk about what happened, Taichi. We came too close, this time. And next time—," he held up his hand to stop Taichi from interrupting, "because there will be a next time, I want us to be prepared."

Taichi ran his fingers through his hair again, the tingle of being so close to Mimi's skin losing itself in the night air. "Yeah," he said. "I guess we should."

Koushiro, on the other hand, had gone straight into his bedroom, opened his computer and plugged Mimi's Digivice in. At once, his program re-started and the data that he was picking made his eyebrow go up.

"You okay there, Koushiro?" Tentomon asked, antennae drooping sleepily.

"I'm fine," he said with a frown. "It's just Mimi's Digivice … it restarted my program."

"Should that have happened?"

"No," he answered at once. "But maybe it's just the piece I needed to make it work." He tapped a few keys, then placed the computer on sleep mode and drew himself away from the desk. "I'll check it out in the morning."

"Mh-hm…" came the sleepy response.

He lied on the bed for a while, staring at Tentomon's sleeping form and wondering how any creature could want to destroy such marvellous beings. How anyone could try to bring such chaos into the world. And for the first time, he allowed himself to fear who was behind this, if Cho-Hokkaimon was just another pawn in the game. The thought made him shudder.

Fully loaded guns weren't much fun to play with.


Notes: I am a failure. To be fair though, I had an internship going and between graduation things that needed my attention and job-hunting, my creativity was pretty stunted these past two months. I know it's not what you want to hear and I'll be very surprised if anyone is still reading this but … know that I will not abandon this story before it is finished. I might just take one or two months in between updates.

Drop a line if you've got anything to say about me or the chapter! As the story progresses, I am more interested in your very valuable feedback. Much love.