Infinite Possibilities

Phase 1: Bridge

Chapter 3

In the early hours of the next morning, Ikeda Sayuri reported to her superior, Wakana Ryoko, in her office in the Toyosu Bureau high-rise building. Small, gray, and featureless, the room was like a cubicle, save for the door and the single glass wall. A desk, two tall filing cabinets, Ryoko's high-quality office chair, and a pair of chairs on the opposite side of the desk filled it.

"Excuse me," Sayuri murmured as she entered and shut the door behind her. Ryoko, a woman in her fifties with a nondescript appearance, worked on a computer at the desk. As usual, she wore a black suit and kept her graying black hair in a bun. The slight hunch to her shoulders and her thick glasses suggested that she was older than her actual age.

"Good morning, Wakana-san."

"Good morning. How did Anami-san settle in?" Wakana finished whatever she was typing, then turned away from her computer.

In truth, Eimi was more ghost than girl when Sayuri left her. It was, in her opinion, a reasonable response to having her world crumble around her. "As well as can be expected. I'll coordinate handling her old lease, forwarding her mail to a PO box, and having the rest of her belongings moved."

The Bureau moved Eimi to a secure apartment in an upper floor of this building, where she would soon work, assuming she accepted their employment offer. Because of the hardships Eimi now faced after helping the digimon and the Bureau, Sayuri assigned her the nicest open unit (or rather, the nicest with bullet-proof windows).

"Do that. And the sooner you can arrange to have her work for us, the better."

"What kind of work do you have in mind for her?" Sayuri hoped her vexation wasn't obvious. Pitching a job to a 21 year old in Eimi's position wasn't appealing.

The wry smile Ryoko offered hinted that Sayuri hadn't masked well enough. "Don't worry. She'll like this, I'd imagine." Ryoko stroked her chin. "How do I put this? I want her to be... Like a babysitter to the digimon recovered from the labs, at least the baby level ones."

There was a certain frequency, or maybe a sixth sense, that agents had to be able to tune into, should they hope to survive the job. That honed instinct whispered: Why would the digimon need longterm care? Weren't the Chosen taking them home? And why did Sayuri feel the need to tread carefully around those questions? "I assumed the digimon would be returned to the Digital World."

Ryoko shook her head. "Too dangerous. We need to make sure they are healthy and uncompromised first. If the labs planted them with a communicable illness, returning them to the Digital World could be disastrous. That's what we're telling everyone- especially Anami-san."

That was a sensible precaution, but Sayuri had enough experience at the Bureau to know the difference between a convenient cover and the truth. That truth would only be spoken if she was cleared to hear it, so she waited.

Ryoko sipped her coffee before continuing, suggesting that she was thinking. "What we aren't telling anyone without clearance is that we need to run damage control with the captured digimon before sending them home."

"What do you mean?" The urge to poke around where she wasn't permitted, to ask questions that shouldn't be asked, could get an agent fired, switched to another role, or, in the most dire circumstances, disappeared. Alarmingly, having a poor understanding of a situation was just as dangerous. Sayuri didn't just walk the knife's edge; she made her home there, always cognizant that she could slip off, or even shear, at any moment.

"Before humans kidnapped them- and believe me, we will be asking them how they ended up on earth- the rescued digimon likely had neutral to positive attitudes towards humans, depending on whether they've met the Chosen or not. But after being kidnapped and experimented on... Naturally, they will warn other digimon to be wary of humans. To hate them, even."

"I see," Sayuri murmured. "So you want them in Anami-san's care for an extended time." If anyone could convince those digimon that humans weren't all dangerous, it was Eimi. Who better than the person who lost so much to save them?

"That's right. Which leads me to an important question: what do you make of Anami-san?"

Sayuri hesitated. She could accurately gauge how individuals felt about a situation, and even predict their actions related to that situation. That was an agent's instinct, or perhaps their tunnel vision. Otherwise, she was better equipped to handle a problem than a person.

"It's difficult to say," she hazarded, and not without reluctance. "She was shaken. But it's clear that she loves digimon. She favored Tentomon and Gabumon over the humans, without a trace of condescension. And most importantly..."

Sayuri paused to consider. The sequence of events was easy to explain, and yet… Well. The encounter she witnessed at Izumi Corporation was the strangest combination of banal and extraordinary, and the implications were staggering. Happily, those implications were above her pay grade; let Ryoko deal with them.

"When she met Izumi-san's partner Tentomon, Anami-san asked him for his business card. Her request made Izumi-san realize that, if he were human, Tentomon would be employed and compensated by Izumi Corporation. He said he would rectify the issue and hire him properly."

Ryoko placed her steaming mug on her desk, as if it were suddenly too heavy to lift. "That would make Tentomon the first traditionally employed digimon in a human-owned business. Assuming Izumi-san can get through the legal red tape, of course. How did Izumi-san take Anami-san pointing out that he was taking advantage of his partner? Was he offended or ashamed?"

"Not at all, which might be the most impressive part. Anami-san was being friendly and earnest when she asked. Just one sentence, one assumption of equality, might set a new standard of how digimon are treated in human work places."

"Astounding..." Ryoko picked her mug up, tilted her chair towards her office window, and observed the Tokyo sky line. The morning was young, and the dregs of night yet lingered. It struck Sayuri that she was exhausted. As soon as this was over, she'd get her own coffee.

Sayuri twitched when Ryoko finally spoke again. "Someone who loves digimon like a Chosen, but lacks the Chosen's preconceived ideas of how digimon and humans interact... Someone who treats digimon like they have the rights and dignities humans are granted in our country..."

As if breaking a trance, Ryoko shook her head, spun her chair back around, and looked Sayuri in the eye. "With the right resources and connections, can you imagine what someone like that might achieve?"

"There's more, if you can believe it." Normally, Sayuri stood for brief chats with her boss. But given the hour and how long this was taking, Sayuri sat on one of the two chairs opposite Ryoko's desk. "Izumi-san was clearly trying to establish a working connection with Anami-san. When Ishida Hiroaki mentioned that she will likely be blacklisted from digimon research as a result of the raids, Izumi-san offered her a role at his company. He insisted that she was welcome to contact him for any reason."

"We need her." Ryoko's assessment was brusque, almost clipped. "If the Chosen trust her..." Ryoko's gaze was usually measured, almost bored-looking. But now, her eyes were fierce, focused. "If we can repair the damage that Himekawa Maki caused to our working relationship with the Chosen through Anami-san..."

Ryoko released an enormous sigh. "We always felt the effects of losing their trust, but it didn't matter as much when they were younger. After all, there are so many restrictions on what we can and can't do when working with minors. But now that most of the Chosen are of age, the damage done to their opinion of us has been a hindrance. Their trust and cooperation as adults would be an enormous boon to the Bureau."

Sayuri placed her briefcase on Ryoko's desk and opened it. "Here's what our people have collected on Anami Eimi. She was born in the outskirts of Tokyo in 1989 to a Japanese father and an American mother. She lived here until middle school, when the Anami family relocated to Philadelphia. After graduating high school, she relocated to Tokyo for college alone. She lived in dormitory housing for her first two years, but recently moved to start her third year near her internship."

"Her ill-fated internship," Ryoko muttered.

Sayuri nodded. "She's close friends with an American Chosen named Davis Howard, nicknamed Howl, and his partner Gabumon. She's also in regular contact with Atohi Dyani. All three have been schoolmates and friends since middle school. From her phone and internet records, the contact she maintains with her family is cursory. There is evidence that she was unhappy at home, and that she moved here because of that."

"If she's that unconnected, then friendliness and kindness could go a long way towards pulling her into the fold of the Bureau."

Sayuri nodded. Individuals with weak family ties were easier to tempt into an organization than ones with a strong sense of community. "I didn't get much sense of her personality, given the circumstances. But there seems to be something disarming about her, at least when she interacts with digimon. Her Japanese is fluent, but she has a slight American accent. And it's clear at a glance that she's mixed race."

The corners of Ryoko's mouth tugged down. "Ah. Make it clear that it's forbidden to discriminate against her at the Bureau. We need her too much."

"Understood." Yet another tall order casually dropped at Sayuri's feet. While she took no pleasure in admitting it, discrimination towards foreign coworkers was not uncommon in Japan. Sayuri had an uphill battle against xenophobia if she wanted Eimi to be comfortable at work. Agents were taught to dissemble, so all she had to do was pass on Ryoko's expectations to them. But the scientists and general office personnel lacked that specialized training.

"Have you told Anami-san that it's best to maximize her time inside Bureau-controlled buildings?" Ryoko didn't look away from the summary papers as she spoke. Sayuri had no idea how she managed to read and talk at the same time.

"I did. Anami-san seemed too overwhelmed to express an opinion, but the Chosen weren't happy to hear that she is in our custody. I understand that we want the Chosen to work with us, but I opted to pit them against us in this circumstance."

"I see…" Ryoko looked up, frowning thoughtfully. "If the Chosen are worried about Anami-san being in our custody, then they might become protective of her, perhaps even contact her on their own. And, when they see how well we treat her... Perhaps that will repair some of the damage done by the Meicoomon incident. It was a gamble, but I think you made the right call."

Sayuri never excelled at accepting praise, so she simply nodded. "Everyone at the meeting has already contacted Anami-san on the phone we gave her at least once."

"Very good. If Anami-san can win the trust of the Chosen, the recovered lab digimon, and the public..."

Intensive training was all that saved Sayuri from flinching. "The public? I assumed we hoped to protect Anami-san's identity as the whistle blower."

"We're not sure," Ryoko replied. "It depends on whether we believe the public will view Anami-san as a hero, someone who protects defenseless digimon from abuse, or as a villain, someone preventing humans from discovering advantages against digimon. If it's better to protect her identity, we will. If the public perceives her as someone to trust, at least where digimon are concerned... Then we will leak her identity and promote her as a human/digimon liaison."

Training, training, training. As an agent, it was Sayuri's lifeline, reshaping how she viewed the world and interpreted stimulus. She would never, could never, think or act like a civilian again. Even as her heart rate spike, training allowed her to remain calm and visibly unbothered. "Even if the majority of the public sees her as a hero, thousands of people will want to retaliate against her."

"That's right," Ryoko agreed. "That's another reason we must convince her to work for us. She's safer in our custody."

She'd be safer if her identity isn't leaked. It was possible that Eimi's identity would leak on its own, without the Bureau's involvement. But if the Bureau decided a leak was beneficial to them, they'd do it themselves.

And Anami Eimi's life would never be the same. Hell, it would likely be in danger.

"Keep gauging Anami-san's personality. In the meantime, here." Ryoko slid a manila folder to Sayuri. "The results of last night's raids."

The ones you want me to see. Sayuri wasn't sure why she was so skeptical today. She knew how the Bureau worked. They always did whatever they thought was best for Japan, regardless of individual needs. She thought she was used to that. I must be more shaken than I thought... Or maybe I've just been awake too long?

Ignoring that, Sayuri opened the folder and scanned the documents inside. "This many companies had kidnapped digimon?"

"Mostly baby stage digimon, thank goodness. We can't handle child stage or higher without access to more adult Chosen willing to work with us. Not peacefully, anyway."

Sayuri opted to ignore the implication that the Bureau had weaponry to subdue digimon, mostly because she had already accepted that as true. "Did we suspect all of these companies of experimenting on kidnapped digimon?"

"No. We identified most of them based on personal and professional emails from Anami-san's company. It helped that she taught us the language her company uses to discuss digimon. We noticed the same key words being used in unusual ways in emails to and from other companies."

Sayuri nodded, then continued reading. Private individuals and companies often forgot that the government can access internet and phone service records. They didn't need to breach security to check on a person or corporation they had an interest in. Unless, of course, your name was Izumi Koushiro, and you devised ways around that. But that, thankfully, was a rare case.

"So many," Sayuri murmured. "How many rescued digimon were nonresponsive copies?"

"About a quarter of them are real. This copying technique is popular. We've got scientists and agents already sorting through seized data to learn why."

"Any interesting tech?"

"We commandeered instruments, but it will take some time to understand them."

Sayuri splayed a palm across her forehead. She was grateful to be spared from the raiding, and from having to cover this up. If laws protecting digimon existed, recovering them from the labs would have been simple. But without those laws, the Bureau was forced to flex their authority and attempt to explain the raids away later.

"Any trouble?"

"Negligible." Ryoko had already returned her attention to Sayuri's report on Eimi. "Security personnel were intimidated with government badges and paperwork. The few who held firm were discouraged by weaponry and/or threat of arrest. And since the digimon were caged and mostly gagged, as Anami-san described, removing them was a simple matter of loading the cages in a truck."

How strange, Sayuri mused. One day, you have a legal but unethical laboratory. Then, overnight, the government removes your test subjects, research records, and instruments, peacefully and quietly.

"In the future, companies of this nature will buff their security and train their staff on how to behave if our people pay a visit." Sayuri was no fool. She knew that things went smoothly tonight because the companies weren't expecting intervention.

Ryoko made a dismissive hand gesture. "We've dealt with that before, and we'll deal with it again."

Sayuri wished she could be direct, but since the issue was above her pay grade, she was obliged to tiptoe around it. "If we could pass laws protecting digimon..."

"Our jobs would be easier, yes. But you know as well as I do that it would be a fight."

Sayuri resisted the urge to sigh. Public opinion on digimon was split. There was no denying that they were capable of tremendous damage, both on purpose and by accident or out of fear. Some people saw cute, mascot-like creatures, capable of coexisting with humans. Others saw monsters, beings with incredible powers that could, and certainly had, hurt countless people.

And others still saw them as opportunities, a way to make money or establish a career and renown in a brand new field.

"Everyone returned safely?" Ryoko was working again, which meant Sayuri should leave. But she was worried for her colleagues, and Ryoko would understand that.

"Yes, thankfully. Any injuries were minor. Some of the recovered digimon were... In need of care, which they are now receiving. I'll let you know when I have more information, but for now, work on understanding Anami-san and getting her to join us."

As clear a dismissal as any. "Understood." Sayuri collected her things, stood, bowed, and left.

With her colleagues safe, the digimon recovered, and several dangerous companies compromised, Sayuri should have been relieved, or even pleased. But a sense of uneasiness followed her, perched on her shoulder like some noxious creature.

XXX

Eimi sat in the bedroom of her new apartment- or at least, the apartment that could be hers, if she accepted a year-long Bureau internship- and gazed through the floor-to-ceiling glass.

Monday, she skipped classes to attend orientation at LogiTech, then reported the captured digimon in the evening. Tuesday, she went to classes, put in part time hours at LogiTech, joined the meeting at Izumi Corporation, then slept on a borrowed futon in this apartment. Wednesday, she took classes online while Bureau employees delivered the remainder of her belongings from her previous apartment and brought her food from the nearby restaurants and conbini (a Japanese shortening of convenience store). In the evening, an exhausted Sayuri visited to report that the raids were successful, with few details. She also explained the Bureau's employment offer and dropped off a folder stuffed with relevant documents.

Thursday morning, Eimi sat on her bed, the only furniture she owned, head spinning. She couldn't stop glancing at the folder beside her. It seemed to possess gravitational pull, like a black hole. The Logitech internship payed enough to rent her tiny studio on the outskirts of Tokyo. From the perspective Eimi gained in America, for better or for worse, being able to live on a part time job's salary (albeit living lean) was mind blowing. But the possibilities contained in the Bureau folder...

This one-bedroom apartment located in Toyosu, a gorgeous Tokyo area about ten minutes from Odaiba by train, was included in her part time package. Stranger still, the salary was higher than the LogiTech one, and came with great benefits. And because she required protection, the paperwork stated that she was excused from nomikai (after hours socialization expected of employees in Japan). The concept of socializing with coworkers after spending all day with them horrified her, so this exemption felt like some weird cosmic joke.

But as she gazed at the fine spring day carrying on outside without her, Eimi allowed that nomikai was probably preferable to house arrest.

She released a frustrated sigh into the silent bedroom, grabbed her ankles, and rocked back and forth on the bed. She wanted the damned job at Izumi Corporation, although she suspected that it wouldn't cover an apartment in Odaiba, let alone other basic expenses. She had already had her fill of the Bureau, and then some. But…

She was alone, both physically and financially. Her family had no money to give her, and she was unsure if they would support her if they had plenty to spare. Her friends, naturally, were focused on launching their own adult lives. All she had was the money she saved and invested while working since high school. Even ignoring the protection the Bureau was offering, she needed the funds.

Eimi ceased her frantic swaying and buried her face in both hands. She had no idea how LogiTech reacted to the raids, nor how the Bureau covered up the fact that she would never return. She realized now that Sayuri took her phone, in part, so LogiTech could not contact her. Technically, they could email her, but...

Well. She was sure the Bureau had thought of that, and done something about it.

Thus far, the news reports were quiet. Am I really in danger? Or am I just sitting here like an ass? What would happen if she took a stroll around Toyosu, maybe did some shopping for her barren apartment?

A smart knock on the front door ripped Eimi out of a fantasy that should not have been fantastical. Blinking, she slowly rose. Her possessions from her last apartment were accounted for, but maybe someone was bringing food?

Self-conscious of her lounge wear and haphazard ponytail, Eimi left the bedroom, walked down the small hallway containing her bathroom, and entered the living area/kitchen. The room was absolutely empty, an echoing void filled only with the ethereal glow of an early spring morning. Ignoring the din of her footsteps, Eimi approached the front door and looked through the peephole, as she had been instructed.

Agent Ikeda Sayuri stood at her threshold. Panic thrummed over Eimi- she hadn't made a decision about the job yet! But making an agent wait did not strike her as a good move. She unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door.

As always, Sayuri wore a suit, which made Eimi feel even stranger about her sweatpants situation. Bowing, Sayuri said, "Good morning. I apologize for the intrusion, but may I come in? I have news that I think you'll find interesting."

Oh my god. What the hell could that mean, coming from a Bureau agent? Eimi plastered on a manic smile and bowed. "Good morning. Please, come in."

Sayuri entered the genkan and removed her shoes. Aware of the agent's gaze, Eimi locked the door and deadbolt, securing her home. Then she hovered awkwardly, shifting her weight. "Um, I'm sorry. I don't have anything to offer you to drink, and... Well, I can't offer a seat."

If Sayuri was judging her, it didn't show. A moment passed as she absorbed Eimi's words, and with no further reaction, she said, "Please email me a grocery list. This first order will be on the Bureau. If you don't have servingware, cups, and utensils, add disposables to the list. Order everything you need to start, including basics like salt, pepper, oil, rice, rice vinegar, flour, and so on."

Heat rushed to Eimi's face. The offer to include staples was generous. "Thank you, but I wasn't trying to ask-"

"I know," Sayuri interrupted. "Consider it part of your welcoming package."

"I, um, I haven't signed anything yet."

Eimi was unsurprised when Sayuri ignored her. "You have classes, and I have work, so I'll be brief." Eimi nodded. So far, Sayuri was brusque and to the point. Eimi found this oddly comforting, as she always knew what Sayuri expected from an encounter, even if she had no hope of guessing her thoughts. "We want to show you the digimon we recovered."

Everything froze, down to the clear morning sunshine. Ever since Eimi clapped eyes on the digimon at LogiTech, their fate ruled her thoughts, even amid the resulting chaos. She planned to beg information from Koushiro, since the Chosen had to be involved in returning the digimon home. Why would the Bureau tell her anything? Surely, the information was classified.

"Thank you," she said, finding her tongue at last. "But… Am I cleared for that?"

Sayuri's grin was wry, but the intensity of her gaze arrested Eimi's attention. "I won't tell you anything you aren't cleared to know. Ever."

Message received. No room for ambiguity there. "Then why…?"

"That's above my pay grade. I was told to offer to escort you to the digimon. Are you coming?"

"Yes." Frankly, after the maze of locked doors at LogiTech, Eimi was not eager to wander into the belly of another security beast- especially one belonging to the government. But then, what did she have to lose? And those digimon were the reason she sacrificed so much. If she could see them, then she would.

Alas, although Eimi's life was not without troubles, at the tender age of 21, she failed to grasp how much worse her situation could become- nor how quick, how instantaneous, the deterioration could be.

"Do you need a moment before we go?" Sayuri phrased it politely, but Eimi recognized the suggestion as an order. Wandering a workplace in her current clothing was not acceptable to most Japanese business standards, although she didn't know where Bureau researchers fit on the dress code continuum. Eimi backtracked to her bedroom to dig a more presentable outfit out of a suitcase, then scrambled to the bathroom to brush her hair. When she was ready, Sayuri led them to the elevator.

Eimi was told that this building was a Bureau research office. Google maps, which now served as her eyes on the outside world, revealed that this glass tower was camouflaged among a forest of innocuous business high-rises. Most of the floors housed labs and office space, but the top levels featured apartments for employees and other people of interest.

The lift opened to a business floor. The walk included badging into a million doors and countless long hallways, some busy with office traffic, some eerily empty. The final hallway was among the still areas, glass on one side, walls and secured doors on the other. They stopped at a door on the far end. Eimi expected Sayuri to stride in, as she had through the others. Instead, she paused, and Eimi blinked when she identified hesitation on that steady face.

"The digimon… They have scars and fresh wounds on their faces. Some have far worse, and are receiving treatment elsewhere, to the best of our abilities. We're hoping to help them in time, as we read and understand the seized research and instruments. But… Be ready. You won't find the healthy, happy partner digimon you're used to."

Usually, Eimi had the sense that Sayuri was hurrying her along, but now… Sayuri monitored her face, waiting. Eimi found herself leaning against the wall for support. She straightened and whispered, "Fresh wounds?"

Sayuri's long, elegant fingers toyed with her hair before securing a lock behind her ear. "The gags. They were… Mounted? Directly into the digimon, in the cheek area. It took time to remove them safely. We didn't recover the control mechanisms for all of the gags, so naturally, removing them was a priority."

There was a sharp burn in Eimi's eyes, and the world went blurry. She sucked in a shaking breath. "Who, who would… Who could…"

"Quite a few people, it turns out." Sayuri's tone was brusque as ever, but there was a foreign kindness in her eyes- although Eimi couldn't see it until she wiped her own dry. "But at the moment, taking care of them matters more than what happened. I warned you so you'd be prepared for what you're going to see."

Feeling lost and oddly broken, Eimi murmured, "Right." As if that meant anything, Sayuri nodded and opened the door.

The first impression was light, pouring in through the two glass walls of the corner room. The next was the scale of the area, spacious and rectangular-shaped. Finally, she noticed a sudden hush, the horrible awareness that all chatter had ended the moment she entered.

Like her apartment, the room was mostly empty, save for what resembled a huddle of colorful stuffed animals smushed in a corner. The individuals that were separated from the herd when the door opened froze, staring at the intruders with wide, frightened eyes.

Oh, god. They were afraid of her. Of course they were, and yet... Eimi wasn't prepared for how much that hurt. What the hell was she supposed to say? She hovered in the doorway, hand slick on the knob, until a Koromon bounced forward like an angry basketball. As soon as it passed the stranded digimon closest to Eimi, it stopped. Bodily protecting the rest, Eimi realized. She wanted to step back, to give Koromon space, but Sayuri was behind her.

The Koromon had bright blue eyes. Angry red wounds dimpled each cheek; surely, they would scar, or at least, they would on human skin. Its round little body seemed stiff, almost shaking.

"You!" The Koromon's voice was high-pitched and scratchy. "You were at the lab!"

When Eimi fumbled, failing to reply, Sayuri said, "That's right. This is Anami Eimi. The Bureau was able to rescue you because Anami-san told us you were kidnapped. You're safe because of her, and she lost a lot to help you."

Those vivid blue eyes snapped from Eimi to Sayuri. A portion of its anger- or maybe fear- turned to confusion. "What?"

"Maybe it will be more clear if you explain what happened, Anami-san."

Eimi heard the words, but failed to process them. Her gaze was set on the scarlet welts on Koromon's face, on the faint impression inward where the gag once sat. For how long? How long?

"Anami-san?" The voice seemed to come from another world. Everything but Koromon was fuzzy, as if this moment was a filtered movie scene. A Bureau agent was watching her, in what might become her future workplace. Crying was not professional. But the pain behind her eyes was building, burning.

"I'm sorry," Eimi choked. "I'm so sorry this happened to all of you." She wanted, so desperately, to say that she would take care of the them, that she would take them home. But while she trusted that the Chosen would help if permitted, she knew the Bureau had the final say over what happened to the digimon. What were her promises? Nothing but empty air.

Koromon lifted an ear- or antennae, or whatever that was- and pointed down. Eyes streaming, Eimi sat. Koromon patted her knee with the thin appendage.

"S-sorry." Eimi didn't know why she was apologizing, not really. It was just all her fuzzy mind could offer. The recognition of wet heat on her skin, the molten touch of tears, was a shock. Her mind finally understood what her body was telling her: she was in pain, and it would come out, no matter how much she wanted to be professional. Professional, among captured digimon who endured things she couldn't imagine.

Pat, pat, pat. Eimi felt the weight of Koromon's stare, still wary despite the offered support, and the gentle tapping of its ear, but could do nothing to acknowledge either. Nothing but cry. So much pain in this room, and for what? In her experience, digimon cooperated with safe humans. Studying them consensually was totally possible. Sure, the research would build more slowly, and some experiments would be off limits. But mutual respect would yield better results over time, and build crucial relationships between digimon and humans. The best of everything, for everyone.

But that wasn't what those researchers wanted, was it. They wanted what was best for humans- or, more likely, what was best for themselves.

Eimi had no concept of how long she cried, but her body couldn't support her sobs forever. When the tears ran dry, when her aching eyes could produce no more and her battered lungs could make no sound, she fished for the cloth in her pocket. Wiping her face, she rasped, "Sorry."

Koromon administered a few more pats. "We all cry. And when we do, the village comes together."

And suddenly, Eimi realized that the digimon had abandoned the far corners of the room. They stood about a yard behind the Koromon, as if drawn by her crying. Support, Eimi realized. The village comes together… They live in communities?

Unsure how to respond, Eimi nodded, then turned as footsteps approached. Sayuri offered a bottled water. "I stepped out for this." The very corner of her mouth twitched up. "Hydrate."

Har, har. Under different circumstances, Eimi might have laughed, or at least smiled. Instead, her already hot cheeks went volcanic. She just cried in front of her boss! Supervisor! Whatever!

At least I haven't signed anything yet. "Thank you." Eimi twisted the cap and drank. The cold water somehow seemed to burn her scratchy throat.

"Now, if you're feeling better, I think it would be best if you explained what happened to the digimon."

Eimi gaped at Sayuri. It seemed harsh to expect a story from her now, but then… No, she was right. The digimon deserved to know what happened; what was the point of waiting?

"Alright." Eimi shifted, trying to get comfortable on the floor. She was already stiffening, and her throat, lungs, and core ached from crying. Maybe that was why she sounded so torn, so broken. Catching the thought, Eimi acknowledged the human propensity to lie, even to oneself.

Her own sigh hurt like a blow. "I wanted to research digimon, but only with the digimon's consent. My friend is a Chosen, and I'm friends with his partner Gabumon, too. I wondered, what would happen if digimon who live on earth with their Chosen get sick or hurt? That's why I joined a research company. In the interviews, they told me that the digimon in their studies were volunteers. So when I saw you..."

Koromon's ears snapped straight up as an angry buzz swept over the crowded digimon. "We didn't volunteer! We were taken from our villages in our sleep!" Eimi glanced at Sayuri, wondering if she was allowed to ask Koromon questions, but the digimon continued talking. "You know the Chosen?"

"Um- A Chosen. From America."

Koromon glanced at the babies huddled behind her. "We know the Chosen," she said. "Their digimon partners make rounds in the Digital World to check in. Sometimes the Chosen come, too."

"I don't think Howl has spent much time in the Digital World." In fact, Howl had never been. Apparently, the gate to the Digital World rarely opened on its own.

"But your Chosen friend put you in contact with the Japanese Chosen."

Eimi twitched and glanced over her shoulder at Sayuri, surprised by her input- but not surprised to find her redirecting the conversation to its goal. "R-right. Howl helped me contact Izumi Koushiro via Takaishi Takeru's blog."

The room filled with the cushiony sound of bouncing baby digimon, along with a murmur of excitement. "We know them! Then what?"

"Um." Eimi inhaled slowly, from her battered diaphragm. "Izumi-san contacted the Bureau. Those are the people who rescued you."

Huge blue eyes gazed imploringly up at her. "Can you call the Chosen? We want to go home. They can open the gate."

Sayuri didn't give her a chance to hesitate, let alone respond. "Before the Chosen take you home, you must recover."

Koromon seemed to be struggling to keep an eye on both humans at once. "But what will happen to us until then?"

"You'll stay here," Sayuri replied. "The Bureau will feed you, and we're working on methods to heal any injuries. Once you're well, we'll contact Izumi-san, who will organize a return trip to the Digital World."

"We want to go home now!" Koromon demanded.

Sayuri stepped closer, but froze when Koromon's lips curled back, revealing pointed teeth. "I know." She seemed to be trying to speak gently, but Eimi sensed frustration in the tense set of her shoulders. "But what would happen if a stronger digimon attacked you in the Digital World while you're hurt? Heal, eat, play. You'll be safe here."

"We trust the Chosen," Koromon began.

Eimi opened her mouth, intending to say that she would ask Koushiro to visit. But nothing would happen without the Bureau's approval, so she caught Sayuri's eye before speaking. When Sayuri nodded, she said, "I'll contact Izumi-san and tell him that you want to see a Chosen."

Koromon's antennae twitched about; Eimi had the impression that she was thinking. "Anami-san saved you from the labs." Again, Sayuri attempted a soft tone that sounded closer to strained. "She also knows the Chosen, and will bring them to you. You've been through a lot, and you've met untrustworthy humans. But here, you will be safe and cared for until you can return home."

Eimi blinked. There was a lot going on emotionally, but she was beginning to absorb that Sayuri was really selling her ass. Panic made her want to push back, to point out that she didn't even have a formal Bureau association.

But then, a warm antenna landed on her knee. Koromon scooted closer, until her round body pressed against Eimi's leg. This Koromon seemed so brave, speaking for the rest of the digimon, who huddled together behind her. But this close, Eimi felt her trembling.

That small, scratchy voice croaked, "Eimi. Please… Help us?"

This wasn't the first time a single moment sheared through Eimi's past, present, and future, changing the course of everything. Hell, that happened just a few days ago, when she met the kidnapped Koromon- this Koromon. All the fear and uncertainty that discovery and the subsequent upheaval created instantly resolved into a focused, intense clarity. She knew what she would do- what she had to do, may the gods help her.

Slowly, Eimi reached for the Koromon. When she didn't flinch or back away, she placed her hand on her head. Her skin was rubbery, but had a fine layer of thin, almost invisible hair. "I'll do everything I can."

Whatever the cost.

XXX

Some time later, after hanging out with the digimon and making a list of things needed for their playroom, Eimi and Sayuri returned to Eimi's apartment. They were silent as they navigated the building, but when Eimi closed the front door behind them, she took advantage of the privacy to say, "You set me up."

Sayuri's expression didn't change. "The Bureau needs you. The digimon need you. And the Chosen need you in this role, although they might not know that yet."

She didn't deny a damned thing, or even express token remorse. Furious with herself, Eimi took the bait Sayuri dangled, instead of arguing. How could she not? The topic of her own damned life was rather important to her.

Eimi tried, how she tried, to sound as calm and detached as Sayuri. "What role, exactly? The salary and compensation are detailed in the paperwork you gave me, but the job description is vague."

"The Bureau is careful about what we put in writing," Sayuri replied. "And the nature of your role will evolve based on how things progress with the digimon, and on your own interests and performance. We don't typically hire undergraduates. The lack of precedence lends a certain… flexibility to your position."

Meaning they don't know what to expect from me. Eimi had to admit that this was fair. Her previous job experiences were customer service roles as a teenager, then some lab internships at her university, likely nothing comparable to… Whatever the Bureau did. But something still felt… off, somehow. Thinking was nearly impossible, with her emotions so riled and her body exhausted from crying. But who knew when she would next be alone with Sayuri? She had to ask the right questions, or at least try to.

"Based on what just happened, you definitely want the digimon to feel safe with me."

A tiny smile lifted the corner of Sayuri's mouth. It would be a stretch to say she looked pleased, but she wasn't disappointed, at least. "Correct. If you accept this role, you'll be their primary caregiver until they are well enough to return to the Digital World. Naturally, we want them to trust you."

Are you making me their caretaker because you want me in that role, or because you know I'll join you if it means I can help the digimon? How could she ask in a way that would elicit an actual response? "You must have more experienced digimon caretakers."

"No, actually. We don't. There are fewer than 30,000 Chosen, and most of them are minors, meaning we can't hire them. The general populace is just beginning to grow more familiar and comfortable with the idea of digimon. If a digimon is on earth, then either they are partnered to a human, or something has gone wrong. We don't know what to do with a room full of unattached digimon, so this is a learning curve for us all. If you can earn their trust, even after what happened to them, then frankly… You're the only person for this job, not just the best person."

Eimi caught herself staring, slack-jawed, at Sayuri. She expected deflection, not a reasonable explanation that made her desperate to help. The tiny portion of her brain that still functioned suggested that Sayuri likely prepped this answer, the same way she planned this entire encounter. And yet…

You're the only person for this job. When had that ever been true in Eimi's life? Or maybe Sayuri was manipulating her, or at least buttering her up. That had happened plenty of times.

"You mentioned that me filling this role would be useful for the Chosen. How is that?" No matter the cost, Eimi wouldn't turn away from the baby digimon. She would accept the job, but she wouldn't waste a chance to gather information.

"Hm…" Sayuri tipped her head, eyes averted as she considered. "Well. Izumi-san reached out to us for help when you reported the kidnapped digimon. Because of you, the Bureau and the Chosen were able to support one another for the first time in years. And before you ask, I'm not cleared to give you further details on that topic."

If Eimi was interpreting Sayuri's emphasis correctly, then Koushiro and the others weren't subject to the same restraints. She could ask Koushiro or Yamato questions about their past with the Bureau, if they were willing. Did the Chosen believe that they could benefit from cooperating with the Bureau, or would cooperation be one sided? I guess the Chosen did benefit, in this case. The Bureau was able to recover the digimon without repercussions. The Chosen would have been arrested.

The moment Sayuri left the apartment, Eimi was going to rush to her digital notebook. There were far too many undercurrents here, too many unspoken suggestions. They would pass from her memory if she didn't record them now.

"I have to go." It was tempting to think that Sayuri sensed Eimi's desire to be alone, but more likely, she had Important Agent Shit to do- or, equally likely, she was tired of dealing with the mess that materialized at her feet a few days ago. "The digimon need someone looking after them. We'd like your decision as soon as possible, so that they are cared for."

Eimi nodded. She already knew her decision, felt it in her gut, in her core, a rare certainty. But she didn't need to let Sayuri know that her ploy was successful so soon. She'd read the offer again after classes, leisurely. Then, she'd contact Howl and Dyani, and maybe Koushiro, Yamato, Hiroaki, or the digimon, especially if they happened to reach out first.

And then, she'd do her best to become someone the rescued digimon could trust.

Author's Note: FYI, because of various threats (AI scraping, bot comments, the panic caused by threatening to redistribute fics that has ended for now), I have set most of my stories to private on AO3, meaning that only logged in guests can read them. I decided to leave updated fics public for two weeks after each update, then set them back to private to protect my work. Basically, I'm testing ways to have both exposure to readers and some protective measures. None of my fics are being removed! If you ever visit my works as a guest and don't see my fics, simply log in to read them, or check out my FFN account. My FFN account has several fics that never got ported to AO3, so if you like my fics, it's a great idea to check those out!

I hope you're enjoying the story! I'm shuffling some scenes around for the next update, so I can't say for sure what you'll read next, but stay tuned! Please let me know if you liked it, it would mean a lot 3 Mwah!