A/N: This chapter is dedicated to V01dSw0rd for being the 100th reviewer for this story. :)
There's a lot of work that goes into a funeral ceremony, and this chapter involved quite a lot of research. I cannot, unfortunately, vouch for authenticity. My lack of understanding of the Japanese language or languages associated with Buddhism hindered me as far as video research went, and while I found useful documents on the sutras and when they're performed during the ceremony, there are a lot of subgroups, so I couldn't be sure which ones were appropriate. In one instance, I found myself listening to a partial video on the Three Respective Callings several times and matching the sounds of the chanters to a document I found with Japanese romanization and an English translation alongside them (made difficult because they were really stretching out the sounds and the audio wasn't all that great). I'm honestly not even one hundred percent sure if I have the right ones for what appears in this chapter or even the right translations as finding ones specifically used funerals was oddly difficult, and even then, locating them was largely restricted to western Buddhist groups. So, barring any corrections from anyone who knows better (which would be much appreciated by the way), my warning is this: Do not approach the sutra sections with the expectation of accuracy. At best, it's more like a patchwork quilt with shoddy needlework. There were, ultimately, some things I left out for pacing, though I'm sure there's other things I've forgotten to include as well. My apologies in advance.
That said, learning about Japanese funerals and funeral customs was interesting. There's a lot of things that aren't usually covered in depictions of funerals in fanfiction, such as the use of freshly printed condolence money. Reportedly, this is meant to indicate that the person's death was expected and is something of a faux pas. But let's not get too far into the weeds here when there's a story to be read. :)
Hope you all enjoy. :D
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
Chapter: 26/ A Handful of Dust: Part 2
Rika took a black dress out of her drawer. It was one of the many articles of clothing her mother bought her for formal functions. Unlike many others in her 'collection,' this one was muted by comparison. There were no frills. No patterned fabrics or lace. Nothing that showed off her form or revealed any skin below her neck. The skirt hung down past her knees and did nothing to draw attention to her. It was so antithetical to her mother's usual philosophy regarding appearances that Rika half wondered if she had been replaced by a digimon.
She glanced at the time and checked it against when she needed to leave. Drawing off her top, she set it on her clothing rack, where it was quickly joined by her pajama pants. The dress replaced their touch against her skin and Rika smoothed it out. It fit well despite having been bought only a year ago. She wondered again about her mother's foresight.
She's always thinking about shopping and looking good. Sometimes it's like she never looks further than what's in front of her face. But here we are. I'm getting ready for a funeral wearing a dress that's perfect for one. A dress she bought for me that didn't even look good. Like she knew death was in the future.
It occurred to her that her mother acted the way she did because she knew it wouldn't last. Because death was always in the future and nothing ever lasted.
Maybe… Maybe I'm the one who never looked further than what was in front of me. When she bought me this, I just put it away and never thought about it again.
She felt a tingle in the back of her head and she quickly whirled about to find Renamon kneeling at the entrance to her room. Unconsciously, Rika's arms rose to cover her chest. In spite of her clothed form, she felt oddly naked before the digimon.
"This is weird," she admitted. "This thing between us… I don't know how Other-Me got used to it."
Renamon bowed her head apologetically.
"I am certain that time had something to do with that," the vulpine digimon replied. Rika found herself agreeing with that sentiment.
"I guess we're going to have a lot of time to get used to it," she said. "Or, more like, I will have to. You said you and Gaiomon had this psychic bond thing, right?"
"Yes," Renamon nodded. Only the slightest narrowing of her eyes showed that the topic of her dead comrade remained a sore spot for her, and likely would for a long, long time. During the last few days, they had learned some things about each other. But only some.
Rika approached the kitsune and set herself down in front of her, legs tucked into the seiza position.
"He must have really thought something of you," she said. "I hope I can do right by you in his place."
Rika bowed her head politely, to which Renamon returned.
"Only time will tell, for nothing is certain," the vulpine digimon said. A small, barely visible smile graced her muzzle. "But if it helps, he found you to be admirable. In another world, he might have been proud to call you his partner."
"Mm." Rika looked away uncertainly. She didn't feel worthy to be anyone's partner, truth be told. Too many people had died because she had been unworthy at the beginning.
I'm not going to beat myself up over that, she thought. I'm a Tamer now. All I can do is move forward. I can't change what happened in the past.
Still, the knowledge of her Other Self and all her accomplishments hung heavily over her like an executioner's sword.
"Are you ready to go?" Renamon asked, bringing the girl's thoughts back into focus.
"I've got to say goodbye to my parents first and get my shoes." Rising from the seiza position, Rika went around her partner – she still couldn't believe that she could apply the word now – and proceeded to make her way down the hall. Renamon faded from view behind her, teleporting to the gate, where she would await her.
She found her grandmother first, seated at the front of the house, drinking tea and watching the news. Seiko smiled wanly at her approach.
"Going to meet up with Takato?" she asked as her granddaughter sat down next to her.
Rika nodded. "Thanks for understanding."
"It'll be hard, not being there. You know we want to support you."
"Mom doesn't."
"Rika…"
The girl sighed. "Sorry. It's just, after she threatened to sue Takato's parents… I don't think I want her going anywhere near the Tamers. Especially now." Rika cast a dark look toward the back of the house. "The last thing I want is her making a scene at Yamaki's funeral."
"She usually has the sense not to do something like that."
"I know. She was upset." Rika balled up her fists. "But I think it's just better this way. At least for now. I'd like to prove to Mom that I can do this whole Tamer thing and I don't want her feeling like she's being singled out. You and Dad might not like me being a Tamer, but you didn't freak like she did." She turned her gaze down at her fists and forced herself to release them. "I don't think she'll ever approve."
Seiko reached across the table and placed her hands over Rika's.
"Not right now," she said. "But one day. More than anything, she loves you. I have no doubt that given enough time, she'll accept this and even be proud of you for taking on this burden. You only have to wait for the cloud to pass." Seiko smiled, as if in amusement. "She is a bit too much of a realist, but not unwaveringly so. You could say her experiences in modeling taught her that. As well as marrying your father."
"Happily ever after doesn't exist," Rika said.
"Not even for the other version of you that you look up to," Seiko smiled. Rika scowled.
"I do not look up to that Other Me." Again, she balled her hands up. "A part of me actually wants to punch her smug face."
Seiko lifted an eyebrow at that, but she chose not to comment further. Instead, she glanced over at the clock on the wall.
"You should get going soon," she said, giving Rika's fists a squeeze. Forcing her fingers to unclench, she turned them over so that she held her grandmother back.
"I'll catch you later," she said. The two of them relinquishing each other's hold, Rika stood up and investigated the rest of the house for her parents. Her father she found sequestered away in his private corner, away from Rumiko, his back to the door. Sheets of paper were spread out on his table, and he presently wrote on one of them. A cup of coffee sat off to his left, steam rising from its surface and on the other side, a small ashtray. A few half-finished cigarettes were crushed in it, as if caught up in some decision he kept going back and forth on. She wondered about that. He hardly ever smoked. It was such a rare occurrence that she often found herself forgetting that he did at all.
Is that because of me?
The floor creaked beneath her step. He turned at her approach.
"You're heading out," he said without question.
"This dress kind of made it obvious, huh?" Rika asked, her lips twitching in a half smile. He returned it.
"Take care of yourself out there," he said. There was a tense, awkwardness to his voice that unsettled her. It had been there since Renamon joined their family.
Rika shifted, feeling suddenly uncertain. Seeing this, he set his pen down and waited.
"Papa? Do you… Do you think it's bad that I became a Tamer?"
"I have concerns," he replied. "I am worried." He paused for a moment before adding with a warm, loving smile, "But I'll never be more proud of you as long as you fight for what you believe in." Getting up from his seat, he went over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "And I have no doubts that you will fight hard for your beliefs." He grinned. "You get that from your mother."
Rika relaxed a little. He sounded more like his usual self when it was just the two of them and they weren't in danger of her mother butting in.
She drew in a shaky breath.
"Nervous?"
"A little. It's my first funeral. I didn't even know Yamaki all that well. And now I have to deal with Mom's bratty cousin."
"She's not that bad," her father chuckled. "Though she and your mom tend to bring out the worst in one another."
"Why?" Rika asked. She had never really thought to ask before. Himiko was one of those rare visits that made it easy to forget she existed. Her father drew back. Returning to his table, he took out his packet of cigarettes. Taking one out, he considered it for a moment before mashing it into the ashtray.
"It's Hata clan business. And when your mother was young, she was a bit of a rebel. I suspect that has a lot to do with it." He ground the broken cigarette hard into the ashtray, as though he were crushing an ugly cockroach. A melancholic smile touched his features. "She was something else back then. Still is, but back then things were different for us. Rumiko was so bright and full of energy and didn't want anyone telling her what she could or couldn't do. It's what made me fall in love with her. She could make you believe anything was possible. Himiko… She was a bit more of a traditionalist. Very big on duty to the family. Someone like Rumiko stood out like an ugly nail. It probably bothered her a lot that she couldn't just hammer her down flat."
His eyes became distant and Rika saw that her father was lost in memory. He ran his hand over his lips, appearing to smoke an invisible cigarette. He frowned, then realized what he was doing. Embarrassed, he turned back to Rika.
"You'd better get going. Don't let your old man keep you here. Oh, and if you're still up for it – and if your new friends are up for it – we can still catch the motorcross championship later."
Rika gave her father an appreciative smile. She doubted the others would be interested, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to either given the current emotional atmosphere. But it was nice to know, all the same.
"I'll see you later, Papa," she said. She turned toward the exit, only to give a start when she found her mother standing at the doorway.
"M-Mama!" she stammered out. In her surprise, her mind noted that her mother wore a purple, long-sleeved sweater with plain, white pants, and her hair was done up in a tight bun. Not something she was used to seeing from her mother. It was almost business-like, but at the same time not. Her eyes went up to her mother's face, gauging what she was up to. She found little she could read directly. Rumiko's expression was sad and her lips thinned against one another tightly, as if looking at something painful.
"Do you really have to go, Rika?" she asked.
Rika felt a spark of anger flash in her heart at that. She opened her mouth to speak.
"Yes," she said with as much restraint as she could muster.
"I suppose you do," Rumiko sighed. Drawing up to the girl, Rumiko placed her hands on Rika's shoulders and then pulled her into a tight hug.
"Come back home," she said. Rumiko's voice was strained, as if she were trying to keep from crying. Her anger evaporating, Rika found her arms rising and hugging her back.
"I will," she replied softly.
They remained like that for a few minutes, Rumiko rocking Rika against her like she used to, years ago. Then she pulled away and without further word, Rika left, leaving her parents alone in her father's room.
###
Renamon deposited Rika at the front of the Matsuki bakery. They were closed, but that didn't stop Rika from tapping politely at the door. A familiar head poked out from the back entrance moments later. It was Takato's father. Upon seeing her, he made his way on over and unlocked the front doors. They parted before her with a gentle whoosh, allowing her entry.
"Excuse my intrusion," Rika greeted with a polite bow. Takehiro gave her a small smile.
"No excuses needed," he said, stepping to the side. "You're always welcome." He glanced at Renamon questioningly. "Would you like something to eat? I know how digimon stomachs can be."
"No, thank you," Renamon replied, looking a little embarrassed. Takehiro shrugged.
"We're almost ready to go. Mie's helping Takato with Guilmon's suit."
Rika lifted a surprised eyebrow at that. "He has a suit?"
"Custom made," Takehiro nodded. "Yamaki…" His voice caught and he had to clear his throat before continuing. "Yamaki had it made for him for official functions. Takato wasn't too sure about it, but Yamaki said it would help normalize digimon in the human world."
Rika didn't feel very convinced. Digimon had a pretty rough reputation. She doubted wearing a suit would change that. Now that the idea was planted though, she tried to imagine what Renamon would look like wearing a dress.
Renamon glanced at her, and a glint appeared in her azure eyes.
"Kohenkyo," she said. At once, her body shifted, becoming completely black. Grid-like lines mapped over her figure, and she took on a more humanoid shape. The grid-lines disappeared and color emerged from the blackness, revealing the splitting image of Rika Nonaka – dress and all – standing at attention.
"Uh… Wow," Takehiro said, his eyes wide with surprise. Rika blinked.
"Why did you…?"
"I sensed your curiosity about how I would look in your outfit," the vulpine digimon said, her more mature-sounding voice sounding almost alien-like from her lips. "This is the best I can do, at present."
"That's…useful," Rika acknowledged. "But Takato and Guilmon are going to be weirded out when they see that there's two of us. They'd probably think we're being invaded by another dimension or something."
"Should I return to my normal form then?" Renamon asked. Rika shook her head.
"No. It's better we do it this way for now. I'll just change my hair and explain when they get here."
Reaching up, she undid her ponytail and allowed her hair to fall down to her shoulders. It felt odd to do so, as she rarely let it hang loose for anything that didn't involve a photoshoot, but she wanted to keep the confusion to a minimum where possible.
I look so weird, she thought, catching her reflection in the glass of the automatic door. Tucking her hair tie away, she hurriedly looked away.
A few minutes later, Takato, Guilmon, and Mie emerged from upstairs. Rika's eyes zeroed in on Guilmon straight away. The dinosaur was indeed wearing a two-piece suit, large and rather baggy looking with a hole in the back for his tail. A tie hung down from his neck and he was struggling to tuck it into his jacket.
"Takatooo…" the dinosaur moaned. "It won't go in."
"Ah, man. One second, Guilmon. I… Uh, what's going on here?"
Rika's eyes riveted over to the boy. Like his partner, he too was wearing a black suit and tie, and his hair was neatly combed. In spite of herself, a light blush rose on her cheeks. She hated the heat, but couldn't help herself. She knew Takato was cute, but this…
She shook herself. This was not the appropriate time for such thoughts.
"Renamon has a transformation ability," she said distractedly. Fuming, she crossed her arms together and met the boys gaze levelly, refusing to let his appearance bother her.
For goodness sake! You're going to a funeral! she berated herself. Get your act together!
"I, uh, wanted to make sure you could tell us apart," she finished lamely.
"I felt it was necessary to cause as little trouble as possible," Renamon said. Takato's eyes went over to her, and then back to Rika. It didn't take much to guess how the two of them were causing his mind to glitch.
"Ohhh…" Guilmon's eyes were wide and admiring. "That's a good idea! Takato! Why didn't you draw me with that ability?"
"I'm…sorry, boy?" Takato scrunched his face up and again looked back and forth between the pair. "But, uh, couldn't you just go as your usual self? I mean, Guilmon, MarineAngemon, and Lopmon are going."
Renamon looked at Rika questioningly. The girl shrugged.
"Do whatever you feel like." She then turned to Takato's parents expectantly. Mie turned to her husband and son.
"Shall we go?"
###
Himiko stood behind Shibumi, arms folded as she watched a video file he had fished out of Sleipnir's data. She saw a group of arms – digimon and human – playing what appeared to be a game of 'rock, paper, scissors.' Guilmon's hand was immediately recognizable, thanks to his claws. The others were harder to tell, though one was obviously a digimon as well, being much, much smaller than the others. The lighting in the recording was terrible, making it difficult to pick out any significant details beyond a slight difference in skin tones and that the two humans were wearing what looked to be sweatbands.
"Ready… Set… Go!" a trio of voices, plainly children, announced in triumph. "And scissors cuts paper!"
"It took some time, but this was the first file that was triggered during Sleipnir's initial test run," Shibumi explained. Himiko frowned as the viewpoint of the file swung around. Takato sat next to Guilmon, plainly much younger and less grim looking. Guilmon looked about the group, looking horribly confused by what was going on.
"Ready… Set… Go!" the group announced again. Guilmon thrust his claws in desperately, but played the same move as before. It seemed his opponents were expecting this.
"Everyone wins but Guilmon!" they shouted, laughing.
"How?" Himiko asked. "These video files… They're memories. How did they get into Sleipnir's data?"
"When we were designing Sleipnir's digivice, we studied the digivices of the Tamers that had died to see how partnerships were formed and operated," Shibumi replied. "Kazu and Jeri's digivices had what appeared to be underdeveloped algorithms compared to the others and were rather, how we say, lightweight. I'll have to look into it again, but I don't think they had any memory files. Ryo's had some unusual data in it that we couldn't understand."
"I've read Ryo's file," Himiko said. "His partner, Cyberdramon, was aggressive towards others as I recall. Always searching for a fight."
"It's possible he picked up a virus of some sort. Either way, his digivice was deemed too unstable. Henry's was the most ideal as it contained a number of unique programs and highly matured algorithms. To speed up testing, we copied most of the data over to our own Arc program."
"But how does that explain…this?" Himiko gestured to the computer screen. Guilmon had now fallen onto his back and the others were now laughing at him in amusement.
"As I explained to Takato when we met in the digital world, the digivices are based on the original Arc device my colleagues and I developed to communicate with the first digimon AI. One of their functions was to store, organize, and connect data. And memories are data. It's quite possible that the digivice stores data on the human and digimon during the biomerging process. On its own, it doesn't do anything, and that might be because the digignomes and the Sovereign digimon are better programmers. But Sleipnir is a completely different entity and we still don't have a full understanding of what the Arcs are capable of."
"So, you're saying Sleipnir is somehow tapping into the memories stored on code you copied from Henry's digivice," Himiko said. "Memories from both a human and a digimon?"
"That would appear to be the case as there's a partition between two sets of memory files. It's not one hundred percent certain though."
"Going off of Suzie's statement and what you've uncovered, let's just assume it is." Himiko unfolded her arms. "What do we do about this? Can you create bodies for these memories using the holographic chamber?"
Shibumi arced an eyebrow.
"I…don't know. I suppose we could, but I don't think they would do anything. The memories only affected Sleipnir because Sleipnir is a living program. Even if we did create bodies, without a 'spark of life' it'd be meaningless."
Himiko folded her arms back together. She was quiet for a moment.
"But you could create that spark of life," she said. "I read the report on the Ark and how it became Grani. It's the same thing you used to create Sleipnir and you said that it's a living program. The original AI program that created digimon in the first place. Now, hypothetically speaking, what do you suppose would happen if you created a human body, added these memory files along with that 'spark?'"
Shibumi turned to look at the video file, his expression thoughtful. "Hypothetically speaking, assuming that it works, we'd have a duplicate of someone who had died. Two, actually. I don't know if we'll actually be able to though."
"I didn't ask if we'll be able to do it, Mizuno. Only about the hypothetical." Himiko's thumbs traced along her forearms in thought.
There came a knock at the door. Turning, Himiko and Shibumi saw an agent standing at the doorway.
"Ma'am?" he began. "Your vehicle is ready."
Himiko nodded. "I'll be there," she said, and then turned back to Shibumi. "Can Sleipnir function without these files?"
"I think so."
"Remove them then. Keep this between us for now and especially do not speak to Janyu Wong about this. We'll talk further after I get back from the funeral."
Turning, Himiko left the room, but her thoughts remained anchored to their conversation. From the elevator to the car, the idea of resurrecting a dead Tamer and possibly even his partner hung in her mind.
Can we do it? she wondered, buckling herself into her we do it? And if we can, what would their life be like? How would their family react? A copy of Henry is not the same Henry who died, no matter how close they are to the original. And once we've opened this Pandora's Box, what happens afterward?
Looking down the road in her mind, she could see the government creating an army of Tamer clones, possibly even altering their memories or installing programs to make them more amenable to commands; to make them more controllable. It was easy to consider. After all, thanks to the creation of Grani, many governments around the world were experimenting with digital weapons to compete with the digital world. The process was slow, with rest of the world still lagging behind Japan, but that would change given enough time. Urgency was pushing them to constantly learn and improve on what they knew.
Why should we create this copy of Henry? Himiko's eyes narrowed, watching the streets zooming by her, filled to the brim with throngs of people going about their business as if the recent destruction of Chuo Park hadn't happened a few days ago. Just to have another Tamer who can help fight the good fight? To alleviate an aggrieved family? Why?
Himiko had no answers. Or, she felt, she was afraid of having any. Having answers left her feeling as though she had the responsibility to act on them; to become the custodian of the consequences like the kami of old who created the islands of Japan and all that existed within it.
Would we – Hypnos and I – become like Izanagi and Izanami? Giving birth to kami after kami until we birth the one of Fire that destroys us?
She thought of the files on Takato and Suzie – the creation of Megidramon and later the corrupted form of Cherubimon. She envisioned an army of such digital duplicates, only in this case, all of them using Henry's face. Or Ryo's. Or Jeri's.
Jeri. What happened to the D-Reaper? It couldn't have been destroyed in just that one fight, could it?
That question hung over them like a shadow, but so far no sign of the entity had been found in the three days since the battle at Chuo Park.
The car rolled to a stop, parking at the funeral house. Himiko climbed out into the open air. Sun shone in the sky, bright and warm. Yet she only felt a chill in the air. Nothing about it felt cheerful or inviting.
The heavens ought to be weeping, she thought. It was an arrogant feeling, she knew, but one she couldn't help having. To heaven, one mortal death was no different nor any more important from any other. It was a natural process in which one's death was only a rebirth into another existence.
Yamaki would become a kami. I wonder if we should make a shrine for him, so that he may continue to watch over Hypnos as its guardian spirit.
She pursed her lips together as she approached the funeral house. Yamaki's religion had been ambiguous on his file, leaving it difficult to decide what sort of funeral to have for him. Buddhism had been the choice in the end. As the saying went, Japanese are born Shinto but die Buddhist. Someone, Himiko felt, had a sense of humor.
Entering the building, Himiko took in her surroundings. The room was small, at least compared to other funerals she attended in the past. Janyu, Suzie, and the rest of their family sat at the front. Takato and his family directly behind them with…two Rika's? Himiko arched an eyebrow at that but as the scene was a calm one, she felt that there must be a reasonable explanation for it.
Renamon… She's based on the kitsune mythology. Could she be adopting a human form for this ritual?
She shrugged it off for the time being and brushed over Guilmon and his suit to focus on Riley. She sat in the same row as Janyu's family. Though her back was to her, Himiko could see that she wasn't crying. She sat completely still in her seat as though she were stone.
"Puh?"
Interrupted from her thoughts, Himiko turned to find MarineAngemon floating next to her, a concerned look on his face.
"Sorry about that," Kenta said, drawing up next to his partner. "He was just wondering why you hadn't taken a seat yet. Um, are you okay?"
Himiko looked at the boy and then at the anxious girl next to him. She was a young girl with curly, mouse-brown hair about his age, wearing thick-framed glasses. Himiko didn't recognize her, but she was plainly with Kenta.
"Yes," Himiko nodded. "Thank you."
Feeling awkward and eager to avoid conversation with the Tamer, Himiko sat herself down behind Riley. Kenta and MarineAngemon followed and joined Takato's family. Yamaki's family was sparse, she remembered, yet none were here. Hardly any answered her calls, and only one sent condolence money to the wake – freshly printed, a clear indication on their feelings about the man and his dangerous line of work.
Did any of his family even like him? Were they ashamed of him? He's caused quite the mess since becoming head of Hypnos. He only ever seemed to make time for work and little else. Her eyes fell on Riley and wondered how they even developed a relationship to begin with. The man was like stone.
She turned her gaze up to the casket where Yamaki's body lay. She didn't want to look. She hated looking at corpses. His was, admittedly, better looking than others she had seen, but shrunken, emaciated frame unsettled her. The child in her, remembering her mother's funeral, wondered why he had been starved of life.
She did her best to ignore the old trauma.
He looks annoyed, she thought. His eyes did have his characteristic, irritated expression. She could just imagine him thinking about how taking his picture took him away from work.
What would you do about those memory files? Would you try to bring Henry back to life? Maybe even Ryo? Or any Tamer whose digivice has their memories stored on them? Or would you think that is going too far? Humans playing at being a god and meddling in things we shouldn't? Would you delete those files instead? Or leave them as a monument to the children who lost their lives in defense of the world?
A young, blond-haired girl sat down next to her. It took Himiko a minute to recognize the intern, Alice McCoy. She wore a black dress and a crucifix hung about her neck. Her light blue eyes were flat, but penetrating. With her pale skin, she looked like death itself. She remembered reading the report on the day she appeared, guiding Dobermon to the Tamers.
She had lost her partner that day, she thought. No. She didn't have a digivice. Something else. What was Dobermon's relationship with her?
"He was a friend," Alice said. Himiko jumped.
"I am sorry," she said, her face flushing with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to say that out loud."
Alice shrugged.
"It doesn't matter," she replied. "Everyone asks at some point."
Himiko didn't press further. It could have just been the location or even her appearance influencing her, but something about Alice's demeanor unsettled her.
I'll have to look into her further, she thought, finding herself suddenly curious as to why a teenager – whatever their relationship with the Monster Maker, Robert – was working at Hypnos.
The room filled quietly, ending off with a man arriving at the altar. A striking of the calling bell sounded, first seven times, including a crescendo and a decrescendo. This was followed by five more strikes, and a repeat of the crescendo and decrescendo. And then a final three more times. Each time, the striking had a hollow sound that sent chills down Himiko's spine.
At the end of the bells, the striker said, "The voice of the Bell at the Gion Monastery resounds all conditioned existence is impermanent. The color of the flowers of the twin sala trees demonstrates that the prosperous will decline. The prideful cannot remain so for long. It is simply like the dream of a spring night."
Three ministers then arrived and made their way to the casket. There, they began to chant the Three Respectful Callings.
"We respectfully call upon Tathagata Amida to enter this dojo, as we joyfully scatter flowers of welcome. We respectfully call upon Tathagata Shakamuni to enter this Dojo as we joyfully scatter flowers of welcome. We respectfully call upon the Tathagatas of ten directions to enter this dojo as we joyfully scatter flowers of welcome."
The chanting was long, with each syllable being stretched out. Himiko wanted to tune them out. She hated the chanting at funerals. She weathered it though, and cast her eyes about to each person around her that she could see without being obvious. The Tamers and their partners. Guilmon sat in his chair with his thick, meaty feet dangling above the floor like some small child and his attention was wholly on the ministers. Takato's expression was a grim one. For half a second, just looking at him, Himiko felt she saw Yamaki's ghost. Kenta appeared oddly mature. Perhaps it was because of the girl next to him, or perhaps his experiences lead him down a different emotional journey than the battle weary Takato.
Suzie though… She was glaring daggers at Yamaki's casket. No doubt, she had thoughts and questions regarding the man and the voice of her brother appearing in his creation. Himiko prayed that she wouldn't make a scene.
The ministers continued on with their chanting, moving from the Three Respectful Callings to the Refuge on the Three Treasures.
"With a heart of genuine sincerity,
I take refuge in the Buddha,
the Awakened One who has attained
perfect understanding of the workings of the universe
with its deep, subtle, and profound laws;
who with his example
shows me the path to rediscovering
my own true enlightened nature, Buddha nature.
I vow to walk the path
by bringing forth the same heart as the Buddha—
a heart of true love for all living beings.
"With a heart of purity,
I take refuge in the Dharma,
the teachings that guide me to
penetrate the true principles of the universe.
I vow to learn them mindfully
and to see the living sutra in each person,
awakening to the principles of the Dharma
in every encounter with people and matters in everyday life.
"With a heart of great vows,
I take refuge in the Sangha,
the monastics who continue the Buddha's legacy,
deeply understanding the teachings,
making them applicable to our world and our lives.
I vow to learn from them respectfully
and pass on the Buddha's teachings to others
through my own living example
so they may also benefit and attain awakening."
Himiko heard Alice's breath catch in her throat here. Glancing at her out of the corner of her eye, she saw the girl's throat working, but her expression remained steadfast in fighting the dampness brewing in her eyes. One of her hands was wrapped tightly about her crucifix. Unexpectedly, Himiko found herself thinking of the religious text associated with the cross's meaning.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
More chants followed. Nembutsu. In Praise of Birth in the Pure Land. And Shoshinge. Incense was lit, and the pleasant smell wafted up before the altar. The chief officiant of the ministers presented Yamaki's new Buddhist name to prevent him from returning to the land of the living. Himiko wanted to repress a chuckle. Preventing his spirit from returning felt oddly appropriate for him. She felt certain that otherwise his spirit would attempt to resume his duties.
"I take refuge in the Tathagata of Infinite Life;
I take refuge in the Buddha of Inconceivable Light.
Dharmakara, at the outset of his career as a Bodhisattva,
Was in the presence of Lokeshvararaja, the Enlightened One.
"He saw the pure lands of many Buddhas, observed how they had been established,
And examined everything, good and bad, about the humans and devas inhabiting them.
He then brought forth the unsurpassed and most excellent Vows,
The Great Vows, immeasurable in scope and depth, which the world had never known.
"Dharmakara chose and cherished his Vows after contemplating for five kalpas.
He further vowed that his Name would be heard throughout the ten quarters.
Amida sends forth universally the immeasurable and boundless Light,
The unimpeded, incomparable and majestically flaming Light,
"The pure Light, the Light of Joy, the Light of wisdom,
The unceasing, inconceivable and ineffable Light,
And the Light outshining the sun and the moon; with these Lights he illumines the innumerable worlds.
All sentient beings are shone upon by his Light.
The eyes of the ministers roved over the gathered crowd, and their voices rose as one, as if to emphasize the grandeur of the image they were painting of the hereafter. Himiko wondered about that. She had never been particularly religious, even before her mother died. The idea of a world beyond this one, held together by vows and some light of morality, always struck her as odd.
But the digital world existed. Even now, no one really knew how it came to exist. It had a presence that affected the Earth, and the data passing through the material world's communication networks strongly influenced it in return. It suggested some prior existence. Perhaps one that influenced religion. Influenced humanity's history.
"The Name promised in the Primal Vow is the Act of Right Assurance;
The Vow of Sincere Mind and Joyful Faith provides the cause of our Birth;
To attain the state next to the Buddha and realize Great Nirvana
Is due to the fulfillment of the Vow which assures our unfailing attainment of Nirvana.
"The reason for the Buddha's appearance in the world
Is, above all, to expound the Primal Vow of Amida, wide and deep as the ocean.
All beings in the evil age of the five defilements
Should believe the truth of the Buddha's words.
If the single thought of Joy and Gratitude is awakened in us,
We shall realize Nirvana without severing our blind passions.
When ordinary people and sages as well as those who commit the gravest offenses and abusers of the Dharma are taken into the Vow,
They become one in spiritual attainment, just as many rivers become one taste upon entering the sea.
"The Light of All-embracing Compassion always illumines and protects us;
The darkness of ignorance has already been destroyed by it,
But still the clouds and mists of greed, desire, anger and enmity
Continually cover the sky of True Faith;"
The chanting paused for a moment before resuming again. The ministers sat down and ushers moved amongst the gathered crowd. Riley first rose up and went over to the incense bowl. She took a pinch of powdered incense between her thumb, index and middle finger of her right hand. Holding it aloft, palm facing inward at forehead height, she sprinkled the powder into the burner. Clasping her hands together, she offered a silent prayer. When she turned, Himiko saw Riley's face, though stone, had the slightest smear of makeup around her eyes. Yet, as she returned to her seat, she didn't indulge her pain by giving voice to it. She held herself straight, like a pillar against the storm of her grief, and with quiet, unbroken dignity, sat herself down.
"Yet, just as the sunlight is obstructed by clouds or mists,
Below them it is light and there is no darkness.
When we receive Faith, regard and revere the Dharma and attain Great Joy,
We immediately transcend the five evil realms.
"If ordinary people, whether good or evil,
Hear the Dharma and trust Amida's Universal Vow,
Shakyamuni praises them as 'men of great and superior understanding';
Such people are called 'white lotus-flowers'."
Tally followed, as did each Tamer and the Monster Makers in their turn and each bowed to Riley before returning to their seats. And then a man Himiko didn't expect to see; the former Chief of Cabinets who first promoted and supported Yamaki throughout the Deva and D-Reaper crisis. A man she had helped push out of his position to undermine Yamaki. As he returned to his seat, their eyes met briefly. He nodded to her before taking his seat. Himiko turned back toward the casket and began to feel the weight of the past fall heavily upon her shoulders. Yamaki was dead, and while she had no direct hand in it, nor could she have predicted the events that led up to it, she played a part all the same.
The current Chief of Cabinets will make me pay as well for cutting him out of the loop during the fighting. He will, likely, do to me what I did to his predecessor.
Himiko couldn't help but feel an appropriate irony there. The force of karma, ever present, would no doubt enjoy making her life difficult for her misdeeds. She could only hope that it didn't spill over to everyone around her, upon whose shoulders rested the safety of the world.
###
Time passed. The funeral finished and a little over two hours later, Takato, his friends, Riley, Tally, and Janyu, found themselves standing over the cremated remains of Yamaki, picking out his bones with chopsticks and putting them in an urn. Distantly, Takato found himself wondering over the mechanical way he lifted each charred remnant – be it himself or with the assistance of another – without so much as a single protest from his stomach. It was far away from how he had been during the funerals of Henry, Ryo, Jeri's father, and Jeri herself. He felt oddly detached from the whole affair; his emotions flat and nonresponsive. They had been that way since he learned of Yamaki's death. Even now, staring at the charred remains of Yamaki's burned out skull, stirred nothing in him.
What is wrong with me? he thought, putting a chunk of bone into the urn. He listened to the beating of his heart, but there came no answer. Only a great, yawning silence that seemed to stretch throughout his entire being.
Am I just numb? Or am I getting used to this?
He felt no response inside his heart at the notion. Intellectually, he didn't want to be numb. He didn't want to be used to death, but that thought lay only on the surface and was born of long habit, or so he felt. Deep down, he felt nothing.
I'm dead inside. Picking up a fragment of Yamaki's eye socket, he thought back to the battle against Titamon and how he powered up his dark, fallen, Crimson Mode to kill himself and Guilmon. I died there. My body is still here, but I died back there. I'm dead. Walking dead.
He poked at a broken piece of Yamaki's femur and found difficulty in lifting it. It slipped in his chopsticks, nearly escaping his grip. He felt no irritation at this though. Only emptiness. This… This is what I am now, only I can still move. I'm dead. I'm dead. I'm dead.
Rika's chopsticks joined his and the femur fragment lifted. Together, they brought it over to the urn and deposited it. Within short order, the last remains of Yamaki followed. The urn was shut. The funeral was over in its entirety now, and for the first time Takato felt something. A great exhaustion filled his being and he found himself desiring rest.
Rest like Yamaki? a part of him wondered from the darkness within. He felt oddly jealous of the man for finally escaping to his sleep. He wanted so very badly to do likewise. It felt like all he and Guilmon ever did was fight digimon now or study to fight.
When does it stop? Do I even care anymore?
He felt warm fingers brush against his and then entwine themselves about his hand. Looking down, he saw that they were Rika's. She didn't return his gaze. Instead, she merely gave his hand a soft, gentle squeeze.
Takato didn't return her grasp. It felt like a part of him forgot how to do so or even what it meant. Another part felt the memory of Jeri holding him back. As if by returning the gesture, he was betraying her. He found himself wondering about her alternate self and what happened to her.
She's dead too, remember? he reminded himself. Bits of memory floated to the forefront of his mind, and he saw Titamon's sword slamming into her body. She has to be. Why wouldn't she come back if she weren't? But then…she wasn't really Jeri, was she? She was the D-Reaper using her face. Using her voice.
Still, his emotions felt cold.
The heavy hand of his father fell on his shoulder, breaking him out of his thoughts. Turning, he looked up at him, reading in the man's eyes that it was time to go. Takato's eyes went over to Yamaki's urn.
One day, that will be me. And Kenta. And Suzie. And Rika. And Mom and Dad. And their moms and dads.
A new memory stirred in the back of his mind from when Henry was still alive. They were talking about Guilmon and a fear Takato had about his partner. Earlier that day, he had nearly vanished, like someone had tried to take an eraser to him.
"What? What are you trying to say, Henry? Do you know something? Tell me."
"I just know that nothing can last forever, Takato. Nothing. I'm sorry."
He had been so angry at Henry's fatalist response. "Well, this can and it will!" he had replied before running off. In retrospect, he knew Henry wasn't wrong. They knew nothing about what happened that day and it never occurred again afterward. But Takato had been so scared of losing Guilmon, he couldn't handle any response that didn't involve saving his partner from being deleted. Henry had been wiser, and understood things better.
If I had been more like him, none of this would have happened, he thought, unable to take his eyes off the urn. But I wasn't like him, and all of those things happened anyway.
Rika gave him a gentle tug on the arm. Looking up, he met her violet eyes. She gave his hand another small, encouraging squeeze.
"Come on," she said. "Let's get out of here."
Giving one final glance at Yamaki's urn, Takato nodded.
"Okay," he replied softly. His eyes lingered for a moment, and then he reluctantly left Yamaki's remains behind.
###
Himiko returned to Hypnos feeling exhausted.
Funerals do not agree with me, she thought as she stepped into the elevator. The doors dinged closed behind her. She pressed the button for the floor she wanted and for half a second her stomach was left in her knees as the elevator began its ascent. She was alone now. With a heavy sigh, she brought her back to rest against the wall and closed her eyes.
"Do not be weak," she heard the voice of her mother say from distant memory. "Straighten up. Eyes sharp. Do not dishonor your family with this display."
"Put a sock in it," she grumbled. Yet, she pushed away from the wall all the same. Some things ran deeper than bone and all the way to the soul.
I've got a lot of work ahead of me, she thought as the digital readout of the floor numbers went higher and higher. I need to speak with the Chief of Cabinets. I need to call in as many favors as I can to keep him from damaging Hypnos and me. I need to figure out this Sleipnir business and get those kids some doctors. I need…everything. She wrapped her arms about herself and hugged tightly. Wonder if I left anything out.
The elevator settled, and the doors pulled open. She stepped out and turned down the hall, returning the nods of the various agents and employees as they passed by. The mood of the building was somber and few people looked eager to do more than the baseline of human interaction. That suited Himiko just fine at present. She needed the break. She felt suddenly unsure of herself and her place as the acting administrator of Hypnos. She wondered whether or not she'd be able to actually do her job effectively.
How many people here know that I undercut Yamaki, undermined his authority, and reduced funding to this organization? How many of them will blame me for his death? How many of them genuinely liked working for Yamaki? How many of them will see my being here as being like a vulture, feasting on his corpse?
She arrived at his office and let herself in without second thought. If nothing else, this would likely convince people that she was a vulture already getting started on her meal.
Yamaki's office was spartan and very much the stereotype of the typical government agent. Clean with no mess of paper or other assortments of equipment spread out on his desk. There was a desktop computer, but there was nothing out of the ordinary about that. The only thing that stood out was the lighter sitting by the mouse. Approaching it, Himiko picked it up.
"So, you left this behind," she said quietly. "You were always flicking this damn thing. What made you leave it here?"
"I guess he wanted to have faith."
Whirling about in surprise, Himiko found herself staring at the girl from the park. The girl who, in this reality, was ashes, just like Yamaki was now. Jeri Katou. She smiled, but it was a sad smile.
Security… Her hand groped about Yamaki's desk and found the alarm button. She pressed it.
"Sorry, that won't work right now," Jeri said apologetically. "Juri wanted to make sure we had privacy for our talk."
"Security!" Himiko called loudly. Jeri sighed.
"Well, except she can't stop that," she admitted.
"How did you get in here?" Himiko demanded.
"Calumon," Jeri replied simply. "He got pretty good breaking in here back before the arrival of the Devas. It was pretty easy for us thanks to him."
Himiko felt a cold pit form in her stomach. "What do you want?" she asked, clenching Yamaki's lighter tightly in her hand. It wasn't a real weapon, but she could at least throw it at this inhuman creature.
"Just to talk and let you know about something I spoke about with Yamaki before everything went…the way it did." She closed her eyes as if to shut out a terrible image. Her fists clenched and then she reopened them. "You're going to be in charge of this place now, right? I'm going to be leaving soon, and if everything goes well, you won't ever see me again. Or Juri or my Calumon either." She looked away guiltily. "I've caused enough trouble already. So, it's time for me to leave. But first…"
Extending her hand, a pink-petalled, red-stemmed flower sprouted from her palm.
"This is a warning system for other D-Reaper entities that might be out there," Jeri explained. "Like I told your Yamaki, events in the world your Rika dropped into drew my attention, and if I saw it, so did others. If another D-Reaper comes here, I'll know and I'll be there to help you fight it."
Himiko narrowed her eyes at Jeri. She didn't know if she could trust the girl – the thing in front of her. A part of her wondered why no one was coming after her shout.
Perhaps they want me to die like he did, she thought. It was a paranoid thought, and one she knew she would have to watch herself for in the future if she wanted to work with Yamaki's former subordinates. Nothing eroded trust faster than paranoia.
"Why?" she asked cautiously.
"Because," Jeri replied, "it's what a good neighbor would do. It's what we should do. And if, someday, we need to work together, then we should be able to trust each other. And we start that by being honest with one another. Because against the D-Reaper – any D-Reaper – there is really no other way if you want to survive."
Himiko looked at the flower and wondered if that was true. She would wonder it long after Jeri left it behind to return to her world.
###
A/N2: Going to take a brief break to rest up from these last few chapters and finish plotting out the final arc of this story. Yes, you heard that right. The *final* arc, which will detail Rika's integration into the group as a Tamer, further developments in her personal life, the fallout from the battle with Titamon, and a familiar menace arriving to finish things out. Stay tuned. :D
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