A.N.: Hooray! Two updates this week!
I have done a fair chunk of the necessary worldbuilding for the time being, so with any luck I should be able to write these chapters a little faster now. Always assuming that life doesn't throw too much fun stuff my way, anyway.
It's also getting kinda obvious to me that while Takeru is certainly my main go-to for PoV in a group setting, the story just isn't going to work if I skip over everyone else for the most part. The Chosen Children are just too separated at the moment for it to make any kind of sense without switching to them - if I don't, it's going to end up with some super boring bits of exposition later where they're all relating their experiences to one another, which is rubbish for both pacing and general storytelling reasons. Digimon has always been about the ensemble cast, and I don't think this fanfic would really do it justice if I strayed from that. That said, there will likely be fewer PoV sections from those characters I find hardest to write, and some stuff will naturally get skipped over for the sake of pacing. (And to prevent this story from descending into a mess of back and forths - I already have a file in Aeon Timeline where I'm keeping track of everything that's going on!)
I also want to say a huge thank you again to everyone reading this, and to the people reviewing and following and favouriting. Seeing as this is basically my first fic (OCs from games are a pretty different beast), I've been rather overwhelmed by how well it has been received. I only hope I can continue to make it enjoyable for everyone following along.
Naturally, his mother had refused to let Takeru out of her sight. The fact that midnight was some ten and a half hours away mattered not. Despite his protests, she had insisted on accompanying them all.
It hadn't helped that Jou had backed her up - albeit for different reasons. Gathering those parents who knew what was going on into one group made sense, logistically. And it wasn't as though they had always concealed everything from their families. They'd had help before, in the form of transport, advice, and even information. But it hadn't seemed so personal then. The first time they had fought for the Digital world he'd only been eight years old. And the second time, his mother's chief involvement had been a list of names.
Not to mention, he'd always played down the severity of what was going on to his mother. At first, that had been due to not really appreciating it himself. And later, it had been because he'd grown aware of the fact that she tended to be more protective of him than of his brother - a fact compounded by Yamato having done most of his growing up with their father. Despite now being older than Yamato had been when they had first fallen into the Digital world, he still couldn't shake being the "younger" one in her eyes.
And now Yamato was missing, and he was the one who'd come back. Battered and bruised, yes, but he'd made it home, to be fussed and worried over by his mother, while his older brother was the one in trouble. And even though he felt a gnawing fear in his gut when he thought about what almost certainly awaited him on his return, a far larger part of him wanted - no, needed to go back. He could handle being stranded in a hostile, unfamiliar world. He'd done it before, after all. What he was struggling with was his mother seeing the fallout as it happened, instead of after it was over. And the hardest part was watching her try to shield him from it all, when he knew from experience that there was no avoiding danger when it reached out and chose you.
The journey to the Yagami residence was tense, and terminally short on conversation. Takeru guessed that they were all relieved to arrive.
Miyako answered the door, relief transparent on her face.
"How is he?" Jou asked, at the same time as Mrs Takaishi asked what she could do to help. Miyako wrung her hands.
"I- you'd better come in," she said.
It was surprisingly quiet. This turned out to be because Mrs Yagami was typing something on Koushiro's laptop, while he stood nearby; as jittery as if he expected her to drop it. There was a haunted expression in his eyes which Takeru recognised all too well.
"Well that's something I thought I'd never see," Jou remarked.
Mrs Yagami didn't look up. Miyako tugged the back of Takeru's shirt, towing him to the back of the group who had come through the door.
"Hold up," she muttered. "You need to try and downplay how you look and feel - they've just been able to get hold of Taichi. Let her calm down a bit before she sees you. You're the only one to come back so far and you're beaten practically black and blue. She'll think the worst."
Takeru stared at her. It wasn't that Miyako was inconsiderate, or unintelligent. It was simply that her statement was the most tactful thing he had ever heard her say, by a considerable margin. To judge from Daisuke's expression, he thought the same.
She frowned, then sighed. "Okay, okay. That's what Koushiro told me to tell you. But he's right. She's panicking because both her children are gone. I know I'd be just as worried if that ever happened to me."
"But you don't have children. You're still at school!" Daisuke said. "You don't even have a boyfriend."
Miyako rolled her eyes, and folded her arms. "That doesn't mean I can't imagine what it must be like, you idiot!" she snapped. "Try having some compassion!"
Before they could get into an argument, Takeru put his arms between them. "Nevermind that. Miyako, what has Taichi said? And has there been any news about the others?"
Sighing, she shook her head. "I don't know what Taichi's said yet," she replied. "And we've not heard from any of the others. Sora's still asleep, from what Mr Ishida can tell. He knows not to touch her, Takeru, so you don't need to worry about that."
He nodded, then winced. His head still hurt when he moved it too fast. Patamon flew up from the ground and hovered in front of Miyako.
"You need to let Takeru rest!" he said. "He's been through a lot and he has to go back, so you can't just make him stand here like this."
"I'm fine, Pata-" Takeru started to say, but was cut off by Daisuke elbowing him in the arm. White-hot pain flooded the area and he yelped.
Before he could say anything more, Miyako was nodding at Daisuke, and the pair of them escorted him to Taichi's room, Patamon flying close behind. As the door closed, he turned on the other boy.
"Daisuke! What did you do that for?"
"Well, it got us out of the hallway, didn't it? Face it, it's much easier to relax in here. Besides. Take a look at yourself, will you? Patamon's right. You need to rest up, man."
Takeru groaned. "No, I need to get back there so I can find Yamato and Hikari. Taichi too, for that matter."
"Well, that's not happening until midnight, so you've got plenty of time to rest," Miyako snapped. "And you might want to think about how you're meant to help the others when you look about ready to keel over yourself! We're your friends, Takeru, so will you just listen to us? Koushiro just came back screaming about a dragon, for crying out loud, and Sora hasn't come back at all. Meanwhile, there's every chance that Jou and Mimi are next and so far you and Taichi are the only ones who've made any progress in finding out anything about this place at all, so we need you to stop and think before you go running off into trouble and get stuck too!"
There was a short silence.
"Wait, a dragon?" That was Daisuke. "What the hell kinda crazy messed up place is this?"
"Patamon and I fought some sort of giant bird with something riding it," Takeru said hollowly. "It shot at us. The shots came out of nowhere. Not like a digimon attack. One did this-" he pointed to his shoulder, "and the other made a whistling sound as it went past. It can't have been a gun - there was no firing sound. And it was the thing riding the bird which shot - once we knocked it off, the bird wasn't able to attack any more."
Miyako swallowed heavily. "Was it… was it a person?" she asked, her voice unsteady.
"I… I don't know," Takeru said. He slumped onto Taichi's bed, putting his head in his hands. "It all happened so fast, and then…" He stopped, unable to put the rest in words. The giant wave and the burning rain had been so much easier to describe - probably because he hadn't realised until afterwards that they were more than nightmares. But every time he relived that fall, it was as though he were back there again. Falling; the wind whipping at his skin. Would he ever be free of that moment?
Patamon landed beside him, and nudged him just beneath his ribs.
"I'm sorry, Takeru," his partner said softly.
Takeru pulled him onto his lap and hugged him. "It wasn't your fault, Patamon," he mumbled. "I should have been thinking more clearly."
The door opened slowly. Koushiro stood there, laptop in hand.
"Taichi found a road through the forest," he said. "He's stopped up in some sort of waystation by the roadside for now, and he's going to wait for light. There's still no word from the others."
Sunday, 12:34pm
Stars glittered overhead. Looking up, she could see the sky awash with a pale white glow, studded with pinpricks which bled their bright light into it. It was beautiful.
A gentle breeze caught her hair and teased at it. Grasses sighed as it passed over. Looking around, she could see them stretch on for mile after mile. Where was she?
"Sora?" Piyomon stood beside her, looking up with a worried expression on her face. "Is this the place Yamato and Gabumon went to?"
Sora shook her head. "He told me it was hot and dry where he went. Just sand and dust, and abandoned buildings. And there's no city anywhere, is there?"
"I could fly up and look," her partner offered, and took to the air. She hovered far above for a minute or so, then flew back down. "I think I see some mountains far off, but there's nothing for miles, Sora. Just grass, and us."
Sora frowned. There had to be a reason she had been brought here. Something had happened to all the others to bring them back. Except Yamato, and Hikari, she thought, then quashed that line of reasoning. There was no good dwelling on it now. She had to figure out how to get home again.
Thinking was surprisingly difficult. Despite knowing that it had to be real, and that therefore the dangers were too, she found herself staring blankly around her. Beside her, Piyomon seemed to have the same problem. For a while - a long while, she supposed, although there was no way to tell - they both stood in silence, watching the patterns the wind blew in the grass.
"Sora?"
She looked down at her partner, frowning slightly. "What's wrong, Piyo?" she asked, half-absently.
"How long will we be here before we go back? How do we get back?"
Sora looked around, not answering. Peaceful and beautiful as this place was, she had to admit that the absence of anything would turn into a serious problem before too long.
"Maybe you should digivolve, Piyomon. We could try and find the edge of all this grass." She reached down for her digivice, and froze. Her hand closed over empty air. Where was it? She was sure it had been clipped onto the top of her skirt.
Panicking, she started to look around her, getting to her hands and knees and rifling through the long grass.
"Sora, what's wrong?" Piyomon asked.
"I can't find my digivice!" Sora replied. "It's not here, and it should be. It was clipped on my skirt, just like it always is!"
Piyomon gasped, and then started to search as well. "But where could it be, Sora? We haven't walked anywhere. We just appeared right in this spot!"
Resting on her knees, Sora looked out over the grass. "I don't know, Piyo. I don't know what happened to it. All I can remember before this is being so tired. I only meant to close my eyes for a little while. I was going to wake up soon. What if Yamato comes back and needs help?"
"Well, Sora, you know Mr Ishida would call the others. I'm sure Yamato is okay. Right now we just have to find a way to get back home."
"There's nothing here, Piyo. Nothing to help us, nothing to scare us out of our wits. It's just… just…. Grass."
As if to make her point, a gust of wind toyed with the grasses and tugged at her hair. Piyo's feathers fluttered. The digimon's eyes narrowed.
"Not nothing, Sora. I think I smell something. Follow me!"
She got to her feet, nodding. After all, there was nothing to lose.
With no digivice and no phone, there was no way to keep track of the time as they walked. After a while, she became aware of a growing tiredness in her legs. Still they continued, with Piyomon remarking now and then about the strangeness of the smell. Nothing broke the horizon. All that they could see, in any direction, was grass.
At last, she could go on no more.
"Piyomon, I'm too tired. We have to rest," she called, when her partner carried on walking.
"But Sora, it's right… Sora! SORA!"
In a flash, she was on her feet again, finding unknown reserves to run to her partner. Such was her haste that she almost ran right past, only stopping when Piyomon flew up in front of her and pushed her backwards. They landed heavily, and Sora was about to protest when Piyomon thrust a wing over her mouth.
An acrid smell filled the air. Lightning struck the ground nearby, as clouds burst out of nowhere to mask the stars. The world turned to darkness. Beneath her, the ground began to tremble. She clung to Piyomon as lightning flashed across the sky, leaving rolls and crashes of thunder in its wake.
With a tremendous roar, something burst from the ground not far away, and she screamed. More eruptions sounded nearby, and filled the air with a buzzing sound. Sheet lighting flashed again, searing her eyes. Right in the middle was the silhouette of a great bird. With a shriek like thunder it plummeted towards them. With no digivice; no way for Piyomon to become Birdramon, there was no hope.
Sora shut her eyes, waiting for it to strike. The buzzing grew louder - closer. Lightning seared her eyelids once more, and then cut out with the rest of her senses.
Sunday, 2:11pm
The phone rang. Takeru's head snapped up instantly, heart hammering in his chest. When they heard Jou's voice greeting Mr Ishida, all he could wonder was which one of them came back? The thought was followed by a surge of guilt. He shouldn't be sat there hoping it wasn't Sora, and yet he was.
There it was; her name. In an instant he flipped from straining to hear Jou's every word, to listening to none of them. Squeezing his eyes tightly, he clung to Patamon.
"I have to get back there," he muttered.
"Taichi said the same thing," Koushiro replied. "And I'll tell you what I told him. There's no sense in wearing yourself out now, when you know full well it'll be midnight before you can return. You need to use this time to prepare." He swallowed. "We all do."
Takeru laughed hollowly. "There's not much I can do to prepare," he said. "I shouldn't even want to go back. Most likely I'll be in no shape to help anyone - and still, all I can think of is how I'm wasting time here."
"What are you talking about?" Miyako asked.
He didn't answer. How could he, when it was as though he were slowly disconnecting from the rest of his body? He didn't move when Patamon answered for him, and told them about their fight in the air, and its end. Didn't react when Miyako gasped.
The next thing he was aware of was someone's hand on his good shoulder, shaking him.
"Takeru. This is important. I need you to answer me. Takeru!"
He looked up, into Koushiro's wide, dark eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the older boy look so serious. Certainly that gaze had been fixed on a computer of some sort at the time, and not a person. It was unnerving.
"Can you hear me Takeru? I know it's a hard question, but I need you to tell me how far from the ground you were. We can work this out. There's an answer somewhere, and we still have time to find it."
He found himself nodding, then closed his eyes, shuddering as that feeling of falling swept over him again. He wanted to push that memory away, not focus on it. Not hear the roar of wind rushing past him as he hurtled downwards, certain that he was going to die. He didn't want to think about it. Didn't want to face the fact that he would have to do it again, and that no one could prevent it.
Nausea washed over him. Was he going to die? Would there even be time when he went back to know what was happening? He was shaking, unable to focus on anything in front of him. The world around him faded - he couldn't even feel Koushiro's hand on his shoulder, or the bed beneath him. It was as though all of his senses had been switched off.
They snapped back. He just had time to register the stars before the sensation of falling kicked in again. A moment later he landed heavily, the wind knocked from him in the same instant as pain flooded his still-reeling mind.
The roof of the engine shed was old, and decaying. He realised that as the timber struts gave way beneath him, sending him crashing into the darkness below. There was a curious sound to his screams, an odd echo that didn't really make sense. He lay for a moment, not moving; too shocked to do more than try and make his startled body breathe again.
Something beside him groaned. He coughed, almost choking on dust as his chest caught up with events and heaved in air. Opening his eyes, he could see the sky through the hole he'd made in the roof. It was larger than he'd expected.
"Patamon?" he asked, after a few breaths.
"He's here," said a voice, each syllable punctuated with a breath. "That… hurt. A lot."
Takeru froze. It took a few seconds for things to add up in his head. The dust had settled around them before he spoke again.
"Umm, Koushiro," he said, a tad hesitantly. "What just happened?"