A/N: After reading chapters 15 and 16 of Smartalec121's story, When the World's Not Ending, I found myself intrigued by the alternate Rika and the world she came from. So, I asked for permission to explore it a little. This fic is set after the events of chapter 16, immediately following the alternate Rika's return to her home dimension.

Shoutout to Ruki44 for bouncing around ideas for clothing styles and events, as well as to The Color of Television whose advice and knowledge of the fashion industry and Japan's big fashion companies has been a considerable help in fleshing things out in this particular area (and will be important to the next chapters for Seeing Red and Digimon Trinity). Thanks goes to Smartalec121 for giving me permission to play in their sandbox for a bit and beta reading this piece to make sure I'm in line with the vision of their work. I hope I have done your work justice.

Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon, nor do I own When the World's Not Ending, by Smartalec121 or any of their associated works.

Off the Beaten Path

A Digimon Tamers fanfic of a fanfic by: Crazyeight

Chapter: 01/ Destiny

At the beginning, there was light. It was warm and comforting in a way that reminded her of a blanket on a rainy day, when the tension at home that always brewed between her parents seemed to be at her thickest. An embrace that told her, "It will be alright."

There were times that she felt that was just a comforting lie, and Terriermon's final concerning words she heard – right before the giant, exclamation point of a rabbit warrior, Antylamon, tapped her with the tip of her finger – reminded her of that fear. The warm light though told a different story. One of truth. That, at least in this case, she truly did have nothing to be concerned about. She would return home and it would be her home. Not that of some alternate version of herself.

The warm light faded, and the copper colors of the setting sun replaced it. The yard was the same as in the other reality she just left. All the same grass; the same koi pond and trees; the same well-trodden path. All the same, but it was hers.

Hers, and she was alone.

She turned about, listening to the sound of birds singing their songs of farewell to the day, making sure she truly was alone. The others – the Tamers from that alternate reality – were gone as if they had never been, leaving her wondering if, perhaps, she had dreamed the whole thing. That she hadn't been plucked from her home reality and taken into another one because of the temper of one, angry girl in a sparring match gone wrong.

The sound of a gasp swiftly disabused her of such notions.

"Rika!"

Whirling about, her eyes fell on a woman with mouse-brown hair tinged with grey and violet eyes shining with shock and relief.

"Grandma…" she breathed, relaxing a little.

"What…What happened just now?" Seiko Hata asked, striding hurriedly torward her. "You were glowing! And… Oh, your dress!" The elder matriarch of the Nonaka household furrowed her brow. Rika, unable to help herself, looked down at the ruins of her clothes. She had to look like quite the sight with how dirty and ragged it looked now thanks to Raremon's rampage. Reaching out, Seiko brushed at the girl's hair, her eyes searching her granddaughters. "Are you alright? What happened?"

I guess there's no keeping this under wraps, Rika thought with a touch of annoyance. While she deeply respected her grandmother, she had hoped to not be noticed until after she changed to keep any potential freakouts down to a zero.

Still, out of all the people who could have spotted her first, Rika much rather preferred her grandmother over her mother or father.

"I'm fine," she said, forcing a smile on her face. "Just had a weird experience with the digital world. But I'm back now. Shouldn't happen again."

She saw her grandmother's expression become tense. "Did you…?" she began, but Rika shook her head.

"I'm not a Tamer," she said. "Guess I'm not good enough for that."

Seiko frowned, and Rika knew she heard the disappointment in her voice. Not wanting to be interrogated, she glanced toward the house.

"Mom and Dad aren't home yet, are they?" she asked. "Because I'd really like to clean up and get changed."

Seiko looked at her granddaughter worriedly. "No, they're not. Rika, are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, I just…" She trailed off and worried over her lip for a second. The moment ended and she found she couldn't keep her thoughts to herself. "Grandma, have you ever thought about what might have happened if someone made a different choice in life?"

She felt her grandmother's eyes searching her face. She hid nothing from her, nor did she try. Not that she'd have been able to in the first place. Despite her poker face, the matriarch had a way of reading her whether she wanted it or not.

"Seems like you had a lot more than just a weird experience," she said finally, her tone full of concern. "Would you like to talk about it when you get out of the bath? I'll have something made up for you when you get out."

"As long as Mom and Dad aren't here," Rika replied, wincing a little at the thought of her parents and what their reaction would be to her being whisked away to another plane of existence. "I don't want them freaking out."

"We can talk later then," Seiko said with a nod before drawing the girl into a tight hug. Rika relaxed a little in her arms and, hugging her back, smiled gratefully. If there was anyone who understood the mood in the house, it was her.

Not wanting to waste any more time, she thanked her grandmother and made her way into the house. The ghosts of her recent past followed her and as she passed the familiar rooms and hallways, she found herself wondering a what if for each of them. Did that other version of herself have any of the Tamers in her home? Or even in her room?

I bet she let Takato into her room a lot, a part of her thought, and with it came a tinge of jealousy. She brushed such thoughts to the side, not liking the meanness in them over their different experiences.

Besides, she added, sliding the door open to her room, it's not like I know him. Or any of them.

Except, she knew the What could have been haunted her thoughts. Armed with experience and the knowledge that she most definitely had an impact on the lives of Takato and the others, she couldn't say that there wasn't anything personal in this for her now. The Tamers, living and dead, weren't just unconnected faces any longer.

Her eyes fell on the table in her room, bare save for her cellphone.

Did we play the card game here? Did I call any of them regularly and chat for hours?

"Aw nuts," she groaned, her eyes zeroing in on her phone in recollection. "Toshiko."

Hurrying over, she swept up on her phone's screen to find, sure enough, a number of missed calls and messages from the 'Toshiko' in question.

We were supposed to meet up this afternoon. She must be freaking out. Yep. She is. Better rip the Band-Aid off this one.

Hastily glancing at the most recent messages, she typed out a short response.

Sorry. Something fell into my lap and I couldn't message you about my change in plans.

Her phone buzzed almost immediately in response.

OMG! RIKA! R U OK?! WAT HAPPENED?

Rika sighed. Typical Toshiko, she thought, but a small smile touched the corners of her lips. One of the very few friends she had since elementary and possessed with something of an explosive personality, at least when it came to cellphone conversations. In public, she tended to be much more reserved.

Like night and day.

Her phone buzzed again and at once her mood soured.

I HERD A DIGIMON ATKED SHIN 5 E! THAT'S CLOSE TO U!

Rika drew in a sharp breath, thinking of the little girl she saved from Raremon back in the other world. Had such a thing happened here as well? Could that little girl have been killed because she hadn't been here to save her?

Easy, she told herself. We don't know if that's the case.

She quickly typed out a quick message.

I still can't talk too long right now. But I'm okay. A little rough around the edges, but I'm fine. A pause before adding, My dress got a little messed up though. Mom's going to be pissed.

She set her phone back down and went over to her dresser to pick out something for the evening. Behind her, her phone buzzed but Rika let it be. Toshiko could be counted on sending whole paragraphs to her small sections at a time. She would properly respond once the buzzing ceased.

Something casual and no nonsense, she thought distractedly, picking through her evening wear. She was tempted to just throw on her pajamas due to how late it was now, but her mother would undoubtedly needle her about it. What was the point of wearing your sleepwear if you weren't going to bed yet?

Rika scowled and clenched her PJs tightly in her hand.

Forget it, I'll just go to bed after dinner, she thought. Closing up her dresser, she headed over to the bathroom where the water had already been drawn for her. Slipping inside, she closed the door against all intrusion and was alone with the warm steam that now enveloped her.

Slipping off the ruins of her dress, she tossed it to the floor instead of the hamper for later retrieval. The less her parents knew about today, the better. She felt bad about it – after all, her mother had given her the dress – but at the same time she found she didn't feel as bad as she expected to.

It's just a dress, she thought, pausing in front of the mirror. That little girl was more important.

She smiled a little, remembering how she had saved the girl. How she had moved without thinking. The terror came later, but in the moment, there had only been action. She wondered if that was what it was like being a Tamer.

Tilting her head to one side, she looked curiously at her reflection. Reaching up, she undid the scrunchie on her loose ponytail and her hair fell down to her shoulders.

We don't really look different, she thought, stepping closer. Don't be stupid, why would we be different? We're the same person.

While true, there were subtle differences. The other Rika had a bit more muscle to her. Having done some work in her mother's fashion industry, she had plenty of opportunity to see firsthand the kind of body types that the job required and she herself was no exception. Less so, as she didn't work anywhere near as much as her mother, but her muscles were definitely less defined and softer.

That other me could probably run around the city for days, she thought, remembering how she had just barely been able to keep up with them and struggled to ignore the stitch in her side until she saw the child that was in danger. I wonder what she does to keep in shape. When I was younger, I liked bouldering. I bet she kept up with it more than I did.

Rika frowned at that. Lifting up her hair, she began to tie it up in the same spiky, pineapple style as her counterpart. It was a little clumsy, but her fingers remembered how to do it. All it would take now was practice to get it right.

Haven't worn it like this since I was five or six. She tilted her head again and angled it to view it from different angles. Come to think about it, why did I stop? I always thought it looked kind of nice. Like a samurai or something.

Outside the bathroom door, she heard the sound of a door sliding shut and a man's voice calling out, letting the household know he was home.

Papa…

Unable to help herself, she promptly put on her pajamas and rushed out to greet him.

"Welcome home, Papa," she greeted, swiftly coming into view. The man looked up at her with a curious look at her getup. He didn't remark on it though and instead gave her a warm smile. She smiled back. In spite of everything and all the misery in her parents' marriage, her father loved her and it shone through in the way he smiled at her.

"Hey, Rika," he greeted. "Got a song for me?"

"Yep!" she chirped. It was something of an old game between them. With a happy nod, Rika began humming a tune she heard that morning. She didn't know the lyrics just yet, but she liked it enough.

"I didn't get much of a chance to memorize it," she admitted, coming to the end of the first half she remembered. "Toshiko called wanting to hang out and, well, things took a bit of a turn for the weird."

"Weird? How so?"

Rika winced mentally. She hadn't meant to slip like that.

"I…kind of got caught up in that digimon attack at Shinjuku 5 East," she half-lied, opting to leave out the part where it had been in a completely different reality. From out of the corner of her eye, she saw her grandmother preparing dinner. As always, she had one ear on their conversation. "I'm okay. I got out of there fast."

Her father drew her into a hug and Rika hugged him right back. Tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes. She was rather taken off guard by their presence and it occurred to her seconds later why. Her father was a presence she took for granted in her life and never thought about what it might be like to never have him come home or hug her.

The other me lives like that every day, she realized and her lips trembled.

"S-Sorry," she said with a sniff. "Guess it's all starting to catch up to me now. G-Good thing the Tamers are here, huh?"

She felt her father grow tense at their mention, but he nodded against her cheek.

"All the same, stay safe when you're out there," he said softly, massaging her back in an attempt to comfort her. "After all, they can't protect everything."

Her mother came home an hour later. As was often the case, her father, after a short greeting, recused himself to another part of the house while her mother went on about her day.

"…and then all these people showed up wanting my autograph, asking me the secret to my youthful good looks." Leaning back in her chair, Rumiko took a sip from her wineglass. "Ugh, they just wouldn't leave us alone so we couldn't get anything done."

"Sounds awful," Rika said, her tone neutral as she flipped through some old school notes, trying to have a plainly visible excuse to be as disengaged as possible from her mother's daily ventures. Having worked a few photoshoots herself – at her mother's behest – and having won more than her fair share of digimon card tournaments, she knew a little bit about what she dealt with and had found she wanted no part of fame. Not if it came at the cost of her privacy being accosted every time she so much as stepped outside.

Hearing the neutered tone of her voice, Rumiko quieted for a moment and looked at her. Rika found herself tensing up, already sensing that she was about to become the focus of a new topic.

"When did you change your hair?" she asked.

And there it is.

"After I got home," Rika replied with a turn of a page. She glanced up at her mother to let her know she was still somewhat engaged, if only to keep her from feeling insulted. "Thought I'd give it a try."

Rumiko took another sip from her glass. Her eyes were thoughtful. Considering. Rika felt as though she were being placed under a microscope for analysis.

"Well, it's…nice. Was there any reason for it?"

Rika put on a fake smile as she now fully met her mother's gaze.

"I just wanted to try something else. You know. Let in a little fresh air. I've been kind of thinking for a while of trying out a new look."

"Oh? Anything particular you want to try on?" Rumiko grinned with a gleam of excitement in her eyes and Rika cringed inwardly, already regretting saying what she did. They were on her home turf now. "I've got a pretty big selection you know. And if you want to try using makeup…"

"Rumi," came Seiko's gentle, but admonishing voice. "Let her work it out on her own."

"I'm just trying to help out." Rumiko let out a childish sound akin to a pout. "If my little Rika's trying to catch the eye of a boy, there's no harm in having a little guidance."

"There's no boy," Rika insisted with a light blush and a scowl. "I just wanted to try something new. No offense Mom, but sometimes you bury me in your shadow."

Rumiko lifted her eyebrows in surprise at that, as did Seiko. Feeling her cheeks heat up, Rika looked away.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that. That was a bit rude of me."

"Well, perhaps a little," Rumiko said, hiding her smile behind her wineglass as she took another sip. "But maybe you and Mom are right. Sometimes a good model needs their own style in order to make it in the business. Just remember, I am here to help whenever you need it."

Rika nodded, wishing she were elsewhere right now. "I'll keep it in mind, Mom."

Rumiko beamed, seemingly quite happy at their little mother-and-daughter moment. Then she perked up, as if remembering something.

"Oh, before I forget, I wanted to ask you if you would be willing to do a photoshoot tomorrow. We have the perfect place all picked out. Hanazono Shrine."

Rika groaned mentally and closed her eyes.

###

Evening fell, finding Rika snuggled within her futon and staring at the ceiling. She hadn't been able to get any sleep, nor had she been able to have that talk with her grandmother. With just her father home it might have happened, but her mother had a way of monopolizing topics and horning in on conversations, even when they didn't involve her.

She's so noisy, she thought, shifting her bare feet for a cooler spot. Moms. You miss them when they're gone, but when they're around you just want them to leave you alone.

Thoughts of her other-self crept into her mind again. From just the brief visit, it seemed that she had a more understanding relationship with her mother.

Did being a Tamer have something to do with that? she wondered. In this, she couldn't help but feel some jealousy. The other Rika saw her as being 'perfect.' Better than her, but in every way, it seemed to her that the opposite was true. The other Rika was physically stronger, helped keep the other Tamers alive, saved who knew how many people, had someone who loved her and was such a patient sweetheart, had an incredible digimon partner, and even had a much better, more honest relationship with her mother who seemed to respect that her daughter was different from her.

Being a Tamer had made that other Rika into a much better, more capable person, in spite all her other flaws.

I bet she won't take long to figure herself out. Figure out what she really wants and move past it. She's a fighter and I'm… I don't know what I am.

The words of the other Rika came to mind, how she told her that she was braver – stronger – than she gave herself credit for. Easy words and she knew that she wanted to take them to heart, but was that really the case? Could she actually act on that little pep talk?

I saved a kid. That's got to count for something in my favor, doesn't it? And she's me. Why wouldn't I be able to be like her? What's the difference between us?

She turned over onto her side, she found she could only think of one answer and how their differences all stemmed from the absence of one person in her life. Her father.

In spite of the problems her parents had with their marriage, her father had been something of a rock in her life. Taking time to listen to her problems and talk to her. Work often kept him busy and she wondered if he worked to avoid her mother, but the one thing he didn't do was avoid her. Rika felt with complete certainty that his door was always open to his daughter.

Did that other-me become more of a fighter because Dad left? She thought about her counterpart's venomous words when she spoke of her father and how she looked to keep her emotions at arm's length. Did that other her consider it worth it at all not having her father in her life, given all the other things she had?

For that matter, what did she think about it?

Tears stung her eyes as she thought of all the Christmases and birthdays she had celebrated with her father; teaching her how to ride her first bicycle, encouraging her singing and playing the digimon card game. Congratulating her when she was crowned the Digimon Queen, (even though it was now a title that became empty and without meaning when the Tamers began defending the city). Taking her bouldering.

Her hand drifted up to her pillow and squeezed it tightly, releasing some of the frustration building up in her. She hated the idea of losing her father. She didn't know what to do about her parents' situation. Though she sometimes thought it would be good if they did separate, she didn't want to be in a situation where she couldn't see him any longer either. And while she found herself admiring the strength of her counterpart, she also saw the scars she had. The way her Takato seemed to walk on eggshells around her even though they were both clearly in love with one another.

Losing Dad really did a number on her.

But was that the reason why the other-Rika became so much stronger? Or was that just the appearance of strength? From her mother's business, she knew a lot about pretending to be something else. She put on a mask herself so many times whenever those photos were taken and she often saw it in others.

Perhaps – just perhaps – she and the other Rika weren't as different as they appeared at first glance?

"If you were really that weak, you wouldn't have even tried to save that little girl."

Her counterpart's words to her had struck a chord despite irritating her. At the time, she thought she was being patronized to, but the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if maybe there was something there after all. Sometimes, all it took was the right motivation. If the other version of her could be strong, then so could she. Differences aside, they were still the same person.

She wiped her hand against the dampness in her eyes.

"Grow up," she muttered angrily. "Crying about it won't do anything. So, what are you going to do? What would she do?"

Rika knew the answer without even having to think about it. For all the differences between them, they were still close enough alike that there could only be one path forward. She would have to get up and fight.

No. It would be more than that.

"I'll be better than you, other-me," she declared. A small, challenging smirk touched the corners of her lips as she envisioned the face of her alternate self. "You might have a head start, but we've both always been a quick study."

7