4-4
The little boy has such a rough, tough face, the virus thinks with a leering smile. Her expression is shaking somewhat, as though she's never seen it before. But she's worn that look before, and sure that's enough, isn't it? Perhaps it isn't. Perhaps it will never be enough.
She isn't afraid, of course. How can a person be afraid when they are finally, truly alive? How can we be afraid of the world that is coming to greet us? That is allowing us to do what we wish? And yet that face of frightened determination unnerves her and she doesn't like it.
She doesn't like the way he's so certain. Humans are fragile and monstrous and stupid and satisfying-
They aren't certain, they're just here, just things to use and yet this one is so sure.
He wobbles and rubs his eyes but he's sure.
Hikari smiles, inside and out and she leaps forward. Takeru makes to step back-
A something, creamy and small, slams into her chest very hard. She's sent reeling because this is still a human body, so weak and unnurtured (Vamdemon can't change that) and thus stumbles onto the ground.
Plotmon flies back herself like the recoil of a bullet, landing almost right in Takeru's arms. She lifts her large head, eyes glistening with tears, and howls with the force of a sonic boom.
"Bad Hikari!" she screams, ears almost wings as they flapped about her moving head. "Bad! If I can't attack our friends seriously like that, neither can you!"
it's its own kind of sweet, bitter betrayal, she realizes as the human inside of her glows with triumph.