Hey, everyone. Back again for the next phase of our story. You'll still have to wait one more chapter to meet our new heroes, but this chapter sets up even more things to come. Now is the time to answer one mystery that has yet to be answered. I hope you all enjoy it.
Roll that opening crawl!
Digimon Adventure
Episode V
Destined Jedi: Next Generations
The Digital World has been thrown into chaos. An evil once hidden behind the shadows has now completed its takeover. Homeostasis has fallen.
Fearing for what little remains of the Digital World, the being known as Gennai has created powers that closely resemble those granted by Homeostasis without its knowledge in case of an emergency. So far, there has been no hope in sight for a return of Destined Jedi.
A former Destined Jedi has lived his life in peace away from society for fifteen years in the Kii Mountains of Wakayama Prefecture, Japan…
The light, easy breeze in the early hours of the morning was always a refreshing way to start the day. Waking up, catching a glorious sunrise, feeling the soft gentle breeze of the morning air is something most of humanity dreams of waking up to every day.
For the wise, old sage sitting on a large boulder overlooking the lush, green hills that seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see, this was the balm for all the suffering he had gone through since he came to these mountains fifteen years prior. His eyes were closed as he focused each breath inward to allow the desired peace to flow through him.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Allow the breeze to wash over his face, welcoming him to a brand new day.
The sage's long, black beard was long enough that it almost touched the rock upon which he sat. Wisps of black hair blew gently as it barely scraped the stone beneath it. His flowing black hair nearly touched the rock from the front as well as the back because of how long it was. His weathered face, coarse by years of enduring the harsh mountain conditions, showed no expression as he soaked in all the energy from the world around him.
A tattered and dirty forest green yukata was the only clothing he wore. Many stitches and mends covered the fabric, but it still did its job of protecting his body from the elements.
Having lived in this deep, isolated part of the Kii Mountains of Japan's Wakayama Prefecture by himself for fifteen years, the sage enjoyed the chance to live the rest of his life in heavenly peace. He had long since denounced his previous life to devote himself to one of peaceful existence away from the comforts of modern society. It took him a while to get used to his new surroundings and living without the technology and other conveniences of the modern world, but after a year, he did not miss any of it.
The sage then opened his eyes, showing chocolate brown orbs that hid a treasure trove of tragic stories beneath them. He unfolded his legs from their lotus position on the large rock and shook them out to wake them back up. He then slid off the boulder and landed on the soft, green grass with a soft thud. His traditional sandals buffered the bottom of his feet from the itchiness of the grass. Black straps secured them to his sock-covered feet by wrapping around his ankle.
As he strolled along the mountain path, the sage made short glances at the nature surrounding him. This was his home, and he would not have it any other way. The mountain he resided on was so isolated that one would have to know what to look for in order to get to it. His only sources of companionship were the trees and the occasional deer or critter that would make an appearance from time to time.
For survival, he had his own hidden rice paddies that he would plow and plant every spring before harvesting. There was a hidden pond on the mountain filled with plenty of fish to catch, and also the occasional deer if he wanted something that was of a higher content. It was not an ideal existence, but the sage had everything he needed to survive.
After another five minutes of walking, the sage found himself staring down the rickety remains of the long-abandoned temple that had served as his home. He walked through the Torii gate that marked the entrance to the temple before entering the courtyard.
The temple was a sight to behold: The ceilings were ten feet above the ground – the tiles were still lined perfectly and seemed in pristine condition. The walls had several holes that were patched and reinsulated to keep the sage warm in the winter. During the warmer months, he kept the airways open, allowing him to enter without opening anything.
The temple had been abandoned for over a hundred years before the old sage found it. He wandered aimlessly through the Kii Mountains in search of a place to call home when he found the temple. So far, it had served him well. He had a futon on the floor, along with a pit in the middle of the floor for cooking.
The sage took a turn away from the temple and walked toward a collection of foliage nearby. He walked through it and went another fifteen paces before he reached a clearing that opened up to a view of the mountain range. His eyes glued to something near the edge of the landing.
A headstone.
It was solid stone with just one marker that stood three feet high. The kanji for the deceased's name was carved into it. The sage smiled sadly as he laid a hand on the top of the headstone.
"Hi, Hime," he said softly. "How are you this morning?"
Daigo Nishijima received no answer in reply. He dropped to his knees and silently prayed over the gravestone. The old feelings of guilt stormed inside of him the longer he stayed on his knees.
It had been fifteen years since Maki Himekawa had died by his hand. Ever since that fateful day he was forced to kill her, Daigo still had never been able to forgive himself.
He resigned his job with the agency within days of things returning to normal following the Digimon invading the real world and the destruction of the infection. Daigo gave Himekawa's body over to the agency to properly care for it before she could be cremated for a funeral.
However, just a day before she was to be cremated, he broke into the facility she was held at and stole her body. Knowing that he would be in serious trouble if caught, he traveled deep into the wild of Wakayama Prefecture and eventually to the Kii Mountains so he could never be found. He then buried Himekawa himself rather than cremate her, as was tradition in Japanese culture. He made a promise that he would spend the rest of his days standing guard over her grave as a way to make up for what he had done.
After three more minutes of praying, Daigo rose from his kneeling position and walked away from the gravestone. Now it was time to start the day off right.
First, he went for a bath in a hot spring that was not far from the temple. Because of the many hot springs throughout Japan, there were still many that had been left undiscovered. Daigo removed his yukata and plunged into the hot water in a fundoshi.
As his body adjusted to the sudden temperature change, he swam over to the edge and basked in the peace that went from the water and into his skin. A dip in the hot spring was the one thing he looked forward to every day; it allowed him a few moments of peace and serenity in a place where survival was the law. He didn't have to think about the past, only living in the present.
After a half-hour of bathing, he climbed out of the spring and put his yukata back on. Daigo felt refreshed and ready to face the rest of the day, which always ended up being the same as the day before. He'd bathe, head to the pond to catch some fish for his meals or see if he could find a deer instead, go back to the temple to prepare his meal and tend to his small, but growing garden. Then he would pray at Himekawa's grave one more time before meditating in a deeper part of the temple for the rest of the day.
A simple, but peaceful existence.
Daigo adjusted the large net over his shoulder as he walked back up the trail toward the temple. Today's catch had been a great one with approximately five pounds of fish. The only problem was how heavy they all were. As he was now in his early forties, it was harder to carry them by himself, but he somehow found a way to keep doing it.
He took two steps and dropped the net behind him. It was too heavy this time for him to carry himself. Daigo took three quick breaths before settling down. How was he going to get this fish up to the temple? He had lost his powers ten years ago for no apparent reason, so that was out of the question. It seemed he would just have to suck it up and carry on.
Despite the weight on his back and shoulder, Daigo pressed on toward his home. The Torii gate was in sight as he got closer and closer with every step. He passed under the gate after thirty more paces and prepared to go about his usual routine.
He froze. Something felt wrong. It was coming from…
Daigo took off without a thought. He was in such a rush that he didn't care that the net full of fish had dropped unceremoniously to the ground. The man tore through the foliage and headed straight for Himekawa's grave. Something was terribly wrong. Had the fifteen-year long peace finally come to an end? Nothing else mattered as he ran through the trees like a rampaging elephant.
The trees finally ended.
Daigo let out a loud gasp. He then stared wide-eyed in horror at what he saw. His jaw trembled like he was out in the cold. No words could describe what he was seeing. Who would do something like this?
Himekawa's gravestone had been splattered with red paint. It seemed to be some random splash, but Daigo saw a message had been written on the stone. It made his blood curl with anger and disbelief.
May she rot in hell.
There was also a folded white piece of paper at the foot of it. Daigo snapped out of his horror-induced state of shock and sprinted forward. Who found him? How did they find him? Whoever did this was going to pay!
He snatched the folded paper and unwrapped it. Maybe whoever did this was stupid enough to leave a clue to their identity. He couldn't recall any enemies he had made that would want to do this. Any who did were supposed to be dead.
"Who did this?" he breathed. "Who did this?"
He unfolded the paper. His heart dropped once again.
The paper was signed by eight symbols. A sun, a yin and yang symbol, a crucifix, a heart, a shooting star, a snowflake-shaped star, a water drop, and one that was oddly shaped with one circle larger than the other.
Daigo felt betrayed. Did this mean what he thought it meant? He hoped it didn't. This couldn't be true. It had to be a bad dream! He pinched himself, but it didn't do anything. This wasn't a dream; it was reality.
How could the Destined Jedi do this to him? After everything he did for them, this was how they repaid him? His hands quivered with fury as he tightened his grip on the paper. Without so much as a sound, he ripped the paper piece by piece until they were sent floating off into the wind.
Daigo then released a loud, agonizing scream of anger that filled the entire mountain range. It could probably be heard all the way to Nara.
"I'll make them hurt," he snarled. "I'll make them pay."
Is this a case of mistaken identity, or is this more to what we think? Find out next time on Destined Jedi Next Generations.
And you all thought Daigo was dead XD I got you guys there, huh? Well, it remains to be seen what will happen next.
Next time is the moment you all have been waiting for. You will get to meet the first batch of our new characters. I'm so excited for this moment, as I'm sure most of you are as well. It'll be worth the wait.
As always, be sure to leave a review and subscribe and I will see you guys next weekend.
Tootles.