Part Twelve - The Curtain Rises

Wallace hasn't called his mother in a long time.

This isn't unusual. They don't tend to call each other, or talk much as a rule. She has to work, and she encourages him to travel and see the world. There's nothing bad about it. Her carefree nature has always made his life easier. As long as he has access to his bank account, everything is fine.

He's blessed to have such an oblivious parent, in this way.

Still, it makes it a hard gauge of how to human. Homeschooling is fine on his own, he's figured out how to keep up with the work and everything but in the digital world, he's alone.

His neck prickles.

No, he's not alone. Lopmon is here, and he's going to bring back terriermon, and then he's going to go home. Everything will be fine … even if Ken is a traitorous sack of crap.

No, not crap. He said no, he wasn't swayed by the wiles of that girl and her pitiful eyes and the traitor who chose light instead of reality. And he'd helped, for all the good it had tone. If he hadn't left in the first place, Lopmon wouldn't be so tired, or had to become a real monster in the first place.

He's going to talk to him about this when he gets back-

"Wallace!"

Kaiser freezes. That high little voice haunts his dreams, laughing in the flower field and dancing in the rain. Working together on the well pump, stealing each other's crackers. Much smaller, much brighter.

Wallace turns around and meets beady black eyes. They're just like Lopmon's, except out of a cream-colored face. The smile that was usually there is a little sharper, his teeth bigger. His eyes, colder.

Wallace pauses. "Gummymon?" His voice is hopeful, but not timid.

Terriermon laughs. "Not quite, but thank you! He's almost back to you, however."

No fear. There is no fear. Doubt can be present, not fear. "Vamdemon?"

"Very good." Vamdemon's tiny form leaps to the back of the chair. "I see you've been busy. Ichijouji was tight-lipped. He doesn't have as much to lose as you."

Traitor, thunders in Wallace's brain, with whispers of doubt and fear and mounting exhaustion. "Well, it must have worked, since you're here."

Vamdemon laughs, high-pitched and off. Wrong. "Indeed. Good work, Wallace. You brought us all so much closer to your dream, and mine." He reaches out and smacks him with an ear. It almost feels affectionate. "Soon, we'll change the worlds into one."

Wallace nods, as if he believes it. As if it's important.

The digimon laughs, sweet and cruel. "As you were."

He vanishes as casually as he arrives, leaving him alone with a deeply asleep Lopmon and the flashing monitors.

Wallace stares into the gloom for a while. Then he goes to scoop up Lopmon and open a Digital Gate. His partner doesn't stir even once. That should have been his clue. There's no way that Lopmon would be content with sleeping when his brother was nearby.

He suddenly wants to call his mother.

His neck throbs.


Iori dislikes anger and violence without rules. You can't take back words spoken in anger. You can't take back actions made in anger.

But the others are so calm about HIkari-san's recklessness. He can't help the bubbling rage in his stomach. She could have been hurt. She could have died, and for what? They were enemies. The Kaiser and Ichijouji were evil! Why? They needed to be stopped right now, not talked to! They were hurting Digimon right now!

He realizes that he;s fallen behind Takeru and Miyako when he looks up. She glances back at him and smiles encouragingly before turning back to her conversation. It stings but it's for the best. He is not a good conversation at the moment, and they're only a few steps apart until he misses joining them crossing the street. They wait for him on the other side. The road is clear. He could go.

Stubbornly, Iori doesn't. He's so caught up in his thoughts that someone knocks into him as they're walking by with a clipboard. At the very least, they catch him. Their hand is clammy despite the spring air, skin pallid, eyes tired.

"My apologies," they say, voice deep and familiar. His trenchcoat sways a bit back into place. "It's a bit of a busy morning."

"No, it's okay," iori says quickly. "I was lost in thought and should have been paying attention. Thank you, sir."

He smooths out his shirt as he looks into those dark eyes again. The man stares at him for a moment.

"Pardon me," he says slowly. "But would your name be Hida?"

Iori nods at once. "Yes, I'm Hida Iori. And you are?"

The man scratches his head, suprrise and bitter joy marring his face. "My name is Oikawa. Your father and I grew up together."

Something hot and ugly replaces the anger in his stomach and his eyes burn. "You knew my father."

"Yes," Oikawa says agreeably. "He was a good man, a wonderful friend."

Upamon stirs in his bag. Iori prays he doesn't try to pop out.

His father had a lot of friends, a lot of good friends. Most were in Britain and didn't visit. Others sent food and gossip or only spoke to the adults in his family. He isn't sure what category this one falls into.

Surprisingly, the man steps back. "Your friends are waiting, Hida-kun. Have a good day."

Iori bows quickly, turning to see his friends indeed, staring oddly at them both. He bades him farewell and runs to them, his simmering anger blown completely out of his head. It was nice to meet a friend of his dad.

He hopes it's one his dad liked.

As Iori joins the others in their conversation, he misses the way Oikawa's eyes follow them down the street.

Or, more specifically, watch his bag.


A/N: I'm so sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger. Unfortunately, due to FFN's on and off decline, I'm going to end this fic here. The sequel will be up on ao3 and squidgeworld. But also this was a lot of fun! I'm glad i got to write it. Thanks again, Higuchi!