A.N.:Happy Odaiba Day everyone!
I'm really sorry to all who have been waiting, but...I was kinda sitting on this chapter a touch because I wanted to be able to update today. It actually worked out really well though, because I've been umming and ahhing over it for genuinely months, as it just didn't feel quite complete, either. And then, like a perfect bolt of inspiration, today the missing part popped into my head, and I was able to slot it into the middle of the chapter just in time.
So this is also months and hours old, just like another 1st August. It feels kinda neat that way.
Tuesday, 3:35am (3:35pm, local time)
After more than a day—it had been that long, hadn't it?—stuck in a cold and dreary prison with nothing but a thin pad to lie on and Piyomon for company, Sora was starting to get worried.
More worried, anyway. The situation was obviously bad, and made worse by the fact she still couldn't work out how she'd gotten from Yamato's apartment into her current predicament. Hearing Piyomon's version of events just didn't make it all add up. Nor did the fragmented snippets of information she'd managed to get from Yamato himself, either down an echoing corridor, or from the sole guard who had acknowledged that it was pretty unreasonable for someone to have locked up two innocent teenagers and their digimon partners.
Over and over, she found herself wishing that she'd been with the others. Not so she could have escaped Yamato apparently dragging her into the other world—the thought of how he might have fared if she hadn't been there to reassure him was even worse—but so she might have been better informed. After all, it wasn't that the others had intended to leave her out of things, but with how quickly the situation had kept changing, it just wasn't possible for them to give her as many updates as she'd really wanted. And she'd have felt such a bother if she'd kept pestering them for more news.
"I feel so useless," she said, for probably the dozenth time. "I know there probably wasn't going to be anything I could have done anyway, but…this? Everyone else was pulling together, coming up with plans or strategies. And I couldn't even keep watch properly."
"It's not your fault, Sora," Piyomon said, halfway through yet another lap around the small room.
Objectively, Sora knew that much was true. How could she possibly have predicted what was going to happen? No one had expected that Yamato would come back as he had, let alone that he would drag her across with him. What could she have done differently?
Well. It might have helped if she actually knew what she had done in the first instance—that was the real problem. Somewhere between Yamato's bedroom and and the dungeon, there was a blank space in her mind which contained answers they probably needed. Even if Yamato was right, and she would only be more upset by remembering whatever it was she was missing.
"I just…wish I could think of a way out of this," she said. "I don't see how we can find one. There's nothing here to scare us—and I can't believe I want there to be. But even if we only got a few hours, just being able to go back and tell people where we are… Maybe they could use what we said to track us down and break us out. Or maybe…maybe we could try and do what happened to me with Yamato, but with someone else. If Yamato could bring me here—and Takeru did it with Koushiro—maybe we could have tagged along with Taichi instead, and gone with the rest of them."
She frowned. "Or maybe I'd have just fallen asleep and gone back to that grassy place alone, and it wouldn't have mattered anyway."
Piyomon sat down beside her. "I wouldn't let you go alone," she said loyally.
"Oh, I know you wouldn't," Sora replied, hugging her partner fiercely. "I'm just…I don't know. This place just has me feeling a little hopeless, that's all. And that's silly. We've been in some bad situations before—far worse than this—and we've always managed to find a way out in the end. The others will think of something. I just have to keep my spirits up!"
It was easier said than done. As the day had inched along, the biggest problem had simply been the boredom. She'd counted the rows of stones between the ceiling and the floor, and the flagstones beneath her feet. She'd paced back and forth until she could tell where she was in the room with her eyes closed, just from the number of steps she'd taken since a wall. She'd studied every crack and crevice she could find, searching in vain for a weak spot she could exploit.
And in between those things had been snatches of conversation with Yamato, fainter and shorter as time went by. That worried her. He'd promised her he was fine, and it wasn't so much that she thought he was lying…but that didn't mean she thought he was making an accurate assessment of his own wellbeing, either.
Piyomon's memories of his brief return to earth were no less concerning. It had taken a while to get a full account out of her partner—even of the little that Piyomon had been around for. It sounded as though she'd been rendered unconscious fairly swiftly. Nor had her words triggered any sort of recollection. Sora's memories simply grew increasingly confused as she headed into…well, she had to assume it was Sunday evening, and then her awareness skipped straight to waking in the dungeon, no matter how hard she tried to remember what had happened in between.
She perked up as the faint sound of footsteps drew closer. Hopeful at first, and then concerned, as she realised it wasn't just one guard with food again but a group; metal clanking as they walked.
"Sora?" Piyomon asked
Sora shook her head. "Best stay quiet, Piyo. Yamato seemed to think Gabumon was in danger here, and I don't want them hurting you again."
Even as she spoke, there was a commotion further down the corridor.
"Back up against the wall, and no funny business!" she heard someone call, then continue speaking more quietly—enough that the words didn't quite carry. There was a metallic jingling, and the sound of a door opening, and Sora felt her heart leap into her throat.
"Yamato," she whispered, launching herself off of the thin mattress and bolting to the door. The small gaps in the barred opening were far too narrow for her to be able to see any way down the hall, but she strained against them regardless, desperately trying to pick out any words in the conversation which followed.
There was Yamato's voice, hoarse but clear. Then, the other man—the one who'd told him to back up. He sounded firm, but not angry. That had to be a good sign, right? They seemed to be talking about something, but…
More footsteps, growing closer. Sora strained to hear anything more, but if Yamato was still talking she couldn't hear it over what turned out to be two burly guards who approached the door to her cell. One of them nodded at her.
"Back up, Miss. You and your…bird, there."
Sora frowned. "Why? What do you want? What are you doing?"
The man who had spoken sighed, and looked at his companion. "Figures. Never give us the easy job, do they?" Shaking his head, he turned back to Sora and added: "Their Graces would like to see you, it seems. Can't think why, but it's best not to risk their displeasure."
"Who?" Sora asked. Yamato had only mentioned one interrogator.
The two guards exchanged glances. "What did I tell you?" the first man muttered.
"Yeah, yeah, alright," the second man said. "Just get back against the far wall, and let's not have any trouble. Like we said to the other kid, this doesn't have to be hard." As he spoke, he hefted something metal up and down in his hand.
Sora swallowed nervously, watching it swing a few times before taking a half step back.
"What will you do with those?" she asked. Piyomon had come to stand beside her, and she ushered her partner back. It'll be alright, she told herself firmly. They didn't hurt us before—aside from knocking Piyomon out which, okay, isn't nothing—but why would they suddenly do it now?
"Your beast there can't go before Their Graces without restraint," the second man said. "It's nothin' personal, mind. Just standard orders."
"But I can?"
The first man shrugged. "Well. Captain never had much truck with shackling kids, leastaways not unless they're troublemakers. But if you really want to play the same game as your friend down the hall, we won't take time to convince you elsewise. Word is, you're to be taken down there straight off, and we'd rather not catch the trouble for dallying."
Between the strange way the man spoke, the exhaustion of the last few days, and the lingering traces of confusion which still hovered at the edges of her mind, Sora wanted to scream. Why couldn't anyone here just give her an answer?
"I don't care," she said at last. "I don't care what you do to me, just…don't hurt Piyomon."
"Sora, no!" Piyomon cried, "Don't talk like that! I'll be fine, just worry about yourself!"
One of the men flinched, but they seemed to take Piyomon's speech even more in their stride than the friendly guard who'd carried messages between herself and Yamato before. Apparently it was no longer news that Piyomon was able to communicate. Good. Hopefully that would mean they were more considerate of her, too.
"Look we're runnin' short on time," the first man said. "So just, back up against the wall, lest we have to make you both. Let's get this over with."
"Get what over with?" Sora asked, but she backed up anyway. There didn't seem to be much point in arguing. "Where are you going to take us? Please, I just want to know what's happening."
The two men stayed silent as one of them busied himself unbolting the door. When it swung open she could see it was the man without the manacles. He hung back as the other man walked in.
"Listen, girl," he said, not unkindly. "We get our orders and not a whole lot more. Them downstairs—the ones in charge, you get me—want to see all four of you in short order. Never had an order like it, so in all honesty, we don't know what it is they want."
He sighed, looking her and Piyomon over. "But you ask me," he added, "and this is just my supposition, mind… I can't see as why they'd want to haul the lot of you down there just for some wicked purpose. We've not had warning that you're posing a danger, or to be on our guard. Mayhap they're just wanting to take a look at yer. So I wouldn't be too afeared just yet. Their Graces aren't without mercy."
It was far from a ringing endorsement, but what else could she do?
"Sora?" Piyomon asked.
"We don't have a choice," she said at last. "I'm sorry, Piyomon, but without my digivice… We'll just have to go with them, I'm afraid."
The second man held out the first set of manacles. They looked heavy, and Sora couldn't blame Piyomon for hanging back. Was it really fair to ask so much of her partner?
"I'll go first," she said, holding out her arms.
Piyomon wrinkled her face, clearly unhappy. "Sora…"
"It's fine," she said, desperately willing herself to believe it was true. "Everything's going to be alright, just you wait and see."
The solider seemed a little hesitant to clamp the heavy metal rings around her wrists, but that had to be a good sign, right? And he was gentle as he fastened the restraints around Piyomon too, despite how awkward it looked to fit them onto her wings.
If she were being honest with herself, Sora couldn't help but wonder how effective a set of manacles would be at restraining Piyomon anyway…but if no one else was going to question it, she certainly wasn't going to start. It was always good to be underestimated in a situation like this, right?
Tuesday, 3:35am (3:25pm, local time)
Ken's legs burned.
This is important, he told himself, for about the dozenth time since he'd started his second, far more reluctant march up the near-endless stairway to the surface. Somewhere a short way behind him, Amund was panting out curses at more or less everything that existed—although to be fair, he wasn't cursing Ken himself.
It was rather considerate of him, really, considering that, unlike the sun and moon which Amund had never even seen, or the earth beneath their feet, Ken was responsible for this. No one had forced him to go, and Jou had even told him flat out that no one would expect him to do this, so soon after the last time. The insight could wait a little longer—what exactly were they going to do about it anyway? It was the middle of the night in Japan, and even in the Digital World, where Daisuke and Iori would likely be asleep by now at Gennai's house.
Still. They'd been behind on everything so far, constantly racing to catch up and work out what they were supposed to be doing. If he had an insight which might help, he owed it to the others to make sure everyone had the full picture. Especially since, out of all of them, he seemed to have gotten through his unexpected entrance to the misadventure with the least harm coming to him.
All he'd done so far was climb a lot of stairs. Compared to what had happened to Jou, or Mimi, or what he'd heard about Takeru's nightmare-like experiences, was that really something he had any right to complain about?
"Ah…Hey…Chosen?" came Amund's wheezing voice after a time. "How much…further…did…y'need?"
Ken looked down at his D-Terminal. Nothing so far. But then, how far had they come already? It seemed enough, but he couldn't deny that this time he'd felt more exhausted from the beginning. And the tunnel itself offered little by way of clues.
"I'm not sure," he said, pausing long enough that Wormmon leapt from his shoulders and blocked the way ahead.
"You should rest," his partner said firmly.
Ken smiled. He shouldn't, not really, but…well. Amund sounded as though he could use the break, and they wouldn't have to stop for long, would they? Besides, he could always get up and go on ahead once he'd caught his breath.
"Alright," he said. "I suppose I may as well stop and work out how I'm going to explain it all, anyway."
Realistically, he ought to have thought it through sooner. Then again, realistically, he probably ought to have worked it out long before he got trapped in an underground city far, far away from anyone else who could actually help. It was all very well talking about passages and tunnels, but look how well just sending an email was going. What exactly were they supposed to do when the energy they were going to need to save for their partners to evolve was also going to be needed just getting around?
Stop this, he told himself. It's not going to help anyone to get caught in a panic.
Wormmon was watching him carefully.
"It's okay, Ken," he said softly. "We're not alone, remember?"
He wanted to point out that they very much were, particularly at that moment, but…that wasn't what Wormmon meant, was it? In his head, it was too easy to make alone mean "without Daisuke and the others", the Chosen he was used to working with. But once upon at time, alone had really meant just that, and it hadn't gone well, to say the least. It was good, really, that his definition of the word had changed. Perhaps it was time its meaning changed again.
Perhaps he could make it mean that even as they were, so spread apart and cut off from each other, he could still trust that the others were all doing their part. Doing their best to reunite once more, and piece together this puzzle. And if that were true—which it was going to have to be—then it meant he could trust the others to think up solutions which he couldn't.
They were scattered apart, but they still had a way to stick together. A thread he could pull on, to help them reunite for real.
He smiled. "You're right," he said, pulling his partner into a fierce hug and getting to his feet once more. "Now let's go send that message, and perhaps we can see what the others think about our situation as well."
Tuesday, 4:00am (4:00pm local time)
Sora kept quiet as the guards led them out into the corridor, which was lined with the same solid stone slabs as the walls in the dungeon. There didn't seem to be any windows anywhere, only a thick cable overhead, with a row of old-fashioned looking filament bulbs spaced out along, it so they provided just enough dim light to see where they were going.
It was disorienting, and all the more so for the knowledge that she must have come down this very passage to get to the cell she'd been imprisoned in. Had she been unconscious for that? Or had she walked it once already, and the memory of doing so also simply been erased from her mind?
Yamato looked far worse than she'd been expecting, too. Not injured—visibly, at least—but there was a haunted look in his expression, and he radiated exhaustion. Sora bit her lip, trying to lend him encouragement through her expression alone. If she opened her mouth to speak, she knew she would probably end up in tears, and that was a weakness they almost definitely couldn't afford.
"Well, let's get this jester's march over with then," said one of the guards, shaking his head. "We'll be going down into the City proper now, but you'd best not be thinking that gives you much to work with. Any funny business, and we can carry you just as easy as you can walk."
The guards said nothing else as they set off, not even to each other. At first, Sora wondered if it were to try and intimidate them, but after a minute or so, when they had started descending a broad, spiralling staircase which seemed to go on for ever, she had to wonder if they were simply saving their breath instead.
It felt as if they were descending into the centre of the earth itself. Just step after step: always down, round and round the inside of what seemed to be just a vertical cylinder cut straight through the earth itself. There weren't even any markers to help them keep track. Just an endless staircase with solid rock on one side, and a waist-high guardrail in the centre. Sora didn't dare peer over it. The thought of actually knowing how much further they had to descend made her stomach lurch, and her legs shake. Every time one of them stumbled—something which happened more and more frequently as the march went on—her heart leapt into her throat.
Finally, just as she began to feel as if she really couldn't carry on much further, their surroundings started to change. They passed into a ring of smoothed walls which had a barred door set into them, then down again to a level which had been painted or plastered white. Two more doors were set into the wall at landings on opposite sides. The stairs themselves changed as well, going from functional metal gratings underfoot to solid stone slabs, even and shallow.
A floor below this, there was blessed solid ground once more. They halted at the foot of the steps, the guards looking every bit as grateful for the rest as Sora herself was.
She would gladly have stayed there longer, but all too soon, the man Sora assumed to be the leader of the group was calling through a small hatch set into the wall beside the most imposing doorway she'd seen yet, nearly twice as tall as any of the guards.
The doors opened slowly, noise rushing in first as they revealed a long corridor—level, thankfully—which was lined on both sides by more guards. The din was electric after so long with just the silence of the cell, and then the steady tramp of feet. A roaring hubbub of muttering and whispering, voices merging into one indistinguishable roar. What was this place? Who were all these people, and what were they doing?
Sora wanted to hang back, utterly lost by this new development, but after just a few more seconds, the guards behind her pressed forwards towards the throng. At first, the rows of masked faces seemed built to cow and intimidate, but as the corridor widened, and the crowds grew deeper, she started to wonder if the purpose of the guards wasn't more to act as a barrier to those massed spectators.
Though I'm sure they don't mind the side-effects, she thought, doing her best to hold her head high as they walked along.
It wasn't easy. Walls of people on both sides seemed to be watching them, and her legs ached so badly that a part of her just wanted to fall down where she was and demand a rest. It was only her lurking unease—frustratingly, not quite enough to be true fear—of what might happen if she did refuse to move that kept her going.
Before long, the crowds on either side had grown so thick that it was impossible to know how many people watched them. It was strange, too, how the pressure seemed to mount—everything about herself felt magnified, as though she were being judged and found wanting. From the wrinkled fabric of her clothes to the grease in her hair, or the bags beneath her eyes, her each and every flaw exposed.
Sora gritted her teeth. There was nothing she could do about any of it. Besides, if she looked a little worse for wear, whose fault was that?
At last they came to a halt once more, gathered in front of another entrance. And if the last doorway had been intimidating in its size, this one far outstripped it in grandeur. Inlaid with vine and flower motifs, with the way all colours were far too rich in this world it almost seemed to glow; bright petals nearly blinding after the dark gloom of the dungeons.
Eyes aching, Sora looked away. The gathered crowds were staring at them—or, more specifically, at Piyomon and Gabumon—with expressions ranging from the simply curious to the obviously hostile. It wasn't particularly encouraging, but before she could worry about that too much those grand doors had parted and they were ushered through them, away from the spectators and into a short, elegant hallway which seemed to act as a buffer between the public space and—
"Presenting Ishida Yamato, Chosen Child of Friendship," someone called out, making her blink with surprise. These people knew their names? "…And Takenouchi Sora, Chosen Child of Love, with…uh…with their companions."
As they were announced they emerged into a vast, elegant hall lit by bank upon bank of candles: suspended from the ceiling in chandeliers; sprouting from the wall in elegant holders; stood in ornate candelabras set in perfect rows along a central, carpeted walkway. It stretched the length of the hall, leading to a raised platform where three tall, willowy figures sat in grand thrones.
A very different group of guards lined this walkway, stood at attention between the candelabras in shining silver armour. And, scattered in small groups throughout the rest of the hall, were yet more elegant men and women dressed in an assortment of clearly expensive clothes, although their cut and drape was entirely unfamiliar to Sora. She was so taken aback by the whole tableau that she barely noticed a growing commotion from somewhere behind them, until an almost-invisible door in the hallway burst open and Mimi threw herself into the room, pulling free from the grasp of two terrified-looking women.
"—don't care!" she was shouting, fury rolling off of her in waves. "I don't care! Let me—YAMATO! SORA!"
Sora gaped. Of all the turns the day could have taken, this was… how had she found them?
"How dare you!" Mimi went on, apparently yelling at the trio on the dais. "How—Oh! And poor Gabumon and Piyomon too! Let them go! Let them go this instant!"
If she hadn't been stood with her hands chained together, aching and wary and surrounded by armed guards, Sora might almost have laughed. It was just so typical of Mimi, charging in without a second thought and leaving everyone completely taken aback. But the fact was that they were restrained, and the rows of armed guards would surely only be startled for a few moments.
And yet…none of them seemed angry, or even particularly shocked by her abrupt appearance. They just watched, a little surprised perhaps, but nothing more. No one raised their weapon, or moved to restrain her. They each simply let her march right past and up to the platform, where she addressed the trio seated in their thrones, hands on hips.
"After everything, everything I already told you—"
One of the three—a woman who seemed to radiate elegance with every movement—raised her hand, nodding solemnly at Mimi. She turned sharply to stare at the guards, and as she did so her face seemed to change, going from stately and peaceful to fierce; imposing. The face someone who ensured she always got her own way.
"Well?" she snapped, and despite the fact that her anger seemed pointed elsewhere, Sora flinched. "Guards, what is the meaning of this? Release our honoured guests immediately, and bring them refreshment!"
The guards practically fell over themselves in their haste to obey the order, although Sora did note in the chaos that Piyomon was able to simply slip her arms out of the restraints and hand them back to the man who had come to release her. He stared stupidly at her a second, before coming to his senses and taking them from her hands.
Even as the guards fell back, bowing at them repeatedly, more people arrived to surround them. These newcomers seemed to appear out of nowhere, all dressed in matching ankle-length dresses or suits as if they were fresh from some European period drama.
"Please, let us escort you to somewhere more comfortable," one of them said, voice trembling.
The woman glanced nervously at the raised platform, and wrung her hands as Sora and the others hesitated—Yamato seemed to be just as confused as she was, and far more tired.
Bowing, dipping curtsies, the people—servants, they have to be servants, right?—ushered the four of them back down the hall and towards the open door Mimi had so dramatically emerged from. That was a point. Surely they ought to stay together now they'd found each other? Besides, she had a feeling that Mimi was the only one who could explain what in any world was going on.
But Mimi was hanging back, talking with the grandly-dressed people on the platform. Was that trio "Their Graces"? It had to be—everyone had fallen over themselves to obey the woman's orders—so how had Mimi gotten so familiar with them?
"Sora, what—" Piyomon started to ask then, and her thoughts veered away from the mystery. Not until they were safe.
"Shhh," she said, shaking her head, looking at the doorway they were being ushered towards. None of the guards seemed to be following. Good.
"Just stay close," she whispered, hoping her voice would carry as far as Yamato and Gabumon, at least.
After all, surely if they could all get somewhere away from the soldiers, they could sort out what was going on, and how on Earth Mimi had managed to get them set free. Were the others nearby as well? And what about Palmon? Was she here somewhere as well, or had she stayed behind?
Sora glanced back one more time before they were led out of the large chamber, and was relieved to see Mimi heading back towards them. She was equally relieved to see that none of the armed guards were following, either. The ones who'd escorted them down from the dungeons were standing awkwardly and nervously together, but despite the twinge of guilt she felt—they had offered not to chain her, after all—she forced herself not to dwell on it. Didn't she already have enough to worry about?
Yamato had been near the top of that list before, and quickly rose to the top as she watched him almost collapse into his offered seat rather than simply sit down. He looked a hair's breadth from passing out altogether. What had they done to him?
But before she had a chance to find out, Mimi finally appeared, bursting through the doorway with the same amount of energy as she had before—although this time she brimmed with delight rather than anger.
"Oh, oh! I'm so glad you're all okay!" she cried, pulling Sora into a tight hug. "I knew you had to be here somewhere, I guessed it right from the start, but it's such a relief to know you all really are! When Shichiro told me what happened I was so…so furious—there's just no excuse for how cruel they've been to all of you, none at all!"
Stepping back, she seemed to look over the rest of them, frowning as she took in Yamato's exhaustion.
"But I promise, they've said they understand now, and they're going to make it up to you. And it's just as well, because everyone else has been worried out of their minds—there's so much you've missed out on, and I'll have to…" She paused. "Yamato, what's wrong?"
Sora looked over at him again, blinking in surprise. "You're shaking. Yamato, what—"
He cut her off with a sharp shake of his head, clutching at it while Gabumon rested a hand on his knee.
"I'm not, it's not…" he said, not even seeming to notice his partner as he staggered, swaying, to his feet and glared at Mimi. "How the hell can we trust you?"
Mimi gasped, hands flying up to cover her mouth, and Sora stared between them in shock as Yamato swayed more, bracing himself against the wall and backing away.
"Yamato…" Mimi whispered, bottom lip trembling. She took a step towards him. "I'm sorry, I…"
"Get away from me!" Yamato cried, almost falling as he tried to scramble back again.
His eyes were wide with fear, and Sora reached out as well, torn between concern for him and for Mimi. But—but he'd been here longer, hadn't he? And Piyomon had said he seemed hysterical with fear when he'd come back and dragged them over. It still didn't explain why he seemed more afraid now that they were safe, though.
"Yamato, what's gotten into you?" she asked. If she could just help him to calm down, perhaps—
But Yamato snorted. "Into me? You mean you fell for this? It's a joke, that's what. All we went through, and with one wave of a hand everything's fine again? I don't believe it." He shook his head, no longer seeming to notice how much he was swaying on his feet, or the way his words were slurring as if he were a businessmen after a late night.
"I don't believe any of it," he went on, waving his arm around deliriously. "And I especially don't believe you."
Mimi burst into tears, even as Yamato took one more step and stumbled, only remaining upright thanks to Gabumon grabbing his arm.
Sora was torn, staring at first him, then Mimi, then down at Piyomon in quick succession. Wasn't this supposed to be where things got better? It really did seem that this world was cursed. Nothing was going as it should.
"Stay with Mimi," she told Piyomon, before rushing over to help Gabumon get Yamato into a seat.
He clutched at her arm, staring at her with wild eyes. "It's not her," he hissed. "You don't understand, you don't know what they can do! This is too easy, there's no way—"
"Easy?" Mimi screeched.
Sora felt her heart sinking even more. So much for calming things down.
Mimi marched over, fists tightly clenched, and shrugged off Sora's attempt to rest a hand on her shoulder.
"Do you have any idea what I've been through to get here?" she said, so visibly angry that she was shaking almost as much as Yamato himself.
Sora glanced warily between them. "Mimi—"
"Is…is it the dress? What, do you think I've just been swanning around like a princess or something, as if I were still just some stupid little girl who doesn't know any better? I'll have you know I have been leapt at, shot at, mauled by vicious beasts and…and all because I told myself I needed to keep going, because no one else was in a position to help! So don't you dare tell me this was easy, because I didn't risk my life coming all this way, just to be told that, oh, no thank you Mimi, actually I'd rather carry on rotting in a dungeon!"
"Mimi, please—"
"I may not know what was going on before I got here, but I can tell you one thing for sure, and that's the fact we don't have time for this! Everyone's scattered far and wide, and most of us are already injured, and somehow we've still got to get it together enough to go visit some Council no one's seen in a hundred years so we can save the world. Again! So if you want to have some kind of problem with me, well, I can't stop you. But you owe it to everyone else—not least of all your brother, who is also stuck here, by the way—to suck it up and let me actually help! I—"
"—Mimi, enough!" Sora cried, so loudly that she surprised even herself.
Both Mimi and Yamato turned to stare at her, and she was vaguely aware of movement at the door the serving people had vanished through. Oh, an audience, wonderful. Well, they hadn't interrupted so far. Perhaps they'd have the decency to pretend they hadn't heard anything at all?
"I'm sorry that you've had a bad time, especially when you were only trying to help" she went on, doing her best to keep her voice calm and level. "But right now, this isn't helping. You don't—it's not that simple. We're tired, and we're hungry, and we don't know what's going on, and I'm sorry that this isn't what you want to hear, but we just can't pivot that quickly. So…so if we really are able to now, why not go somewhere quiet, and private, and perhaps we can get each other caught up on what we've missed. Isn't that better than having an argument here, of all places?"
Neither Mimi nor Yamato replied. The digimon stayed quiet too, which was halfway a blessing, even if she would have appreciated the moral support that she could tell Piyomon wanted to offer. But this world was so strange, and everything seemed to promise danger at any turn. It was better to play it safe.
Someone cleared their throat, and Sora looked over at the far side of the room to see a woman dressed in that same uniform-like outfit standing there, looking awkward and apologetic.
"Beg pardon, Chosen," she said, dipping a curtsey. "But I couldn't help overhearing, and…if it's a private chamber you would like, there are guest quarters available. We can arrange for your refreshments to be brought there instead."
Sora looked round at the others. "Well?"
Despite the very different expressions on Mimi and Yamato's faces, and the way they were still regarding each other with a mixture of suspicion and outright hostility, she could have cried with relief when they both nodded. They just needed somewhere quiet and peaceful, so they could all explain things. Everything would be alright after that. Even if she had to knock the sense into them herself—it wouldn't be the first time.
In fact, after the mess of confusion and disorientation, it was almost reassuring to find herself the voice of reason once more.
This, I can do, she thought.