Interlude 3: Rika Nonaka
She'd almost died.
She'd come within inches of death.
If not for that cloaked figure, she would be very, very dead. She'd be laying on the ground, with bullet holes in her chest, in some random, forsaken parking lot.
She shivered.
It had absolutely nothing to do with the cold.
She turned in her futon, already wrapped up underneath two blankets.
It was far too warm for two blankets.
"Rika..."
The voice was whispered, quiet even in her silent room. She heard it. She never could have missed it.
"Renamon." She whispered back. "What time is it?"
The voice took only a moment to respond, her Digimon just as reliable now as ever. "2:30."
Some part of her wondered when she had passed 11:30.
"Thank you."
Her Digimon didn't say anything. She didn't need to.
Rika turned over again, looking back at the left side of her room, where Renamon was hidden in the shadows.
The thought brought more than a little comfort to her, for some reason. That she knew there was someone looking over her... was surprisingly calming.
She settled deeper into her blankets, her eyes closing as she tried to get some sleep.
She was halfway into a restless dream when she felt fur against her forehead.
Her eyes opened, blearily, and in the darkness, she could only just make out Renamon's concerned face before she leaned close, drawing her into a hug.
She didn't get the chance to say anything, as sleep beckoned to her.
When she woke up the next morning, it was to her grandmother knocking on the door.
Renamon was still hiding in the shadows, and Rika wondered how much of last night had been a dream.