a/n: and just like that, we're already one month into 2024... a lot of reflecting and angsting in this chapter (sorry)
stay warm, everyone :)
His first emotion was fear.
The other feelings came afterwards like waves—confusion, panic, anger, despair. But it was fear that brought Patamon out of the safe space and home that day.
It was fear that put a reassuring smile on his face in front of Jou. Fear that closed up his throat and stiffened his fingers so that he could not bring himself to pick up the phone, not even when he knew Hikari was waiting to hear from him. Not even after what had happened during the storm the previous night.
He had gone home that day, and with Patamon tucked into his jacket close to his chest, had closed his eyes for as long as he could.
"Are you tired today, Takeru? It's the rain, huh?" Patamon had chirped up at him, and he smiled and nodded, unable to say anything else.
He thought that maybe if he closed his eyes for long enough, when he opened them again, everything would be fine. He wouldn't be on the verge of reliving his childhood nightmares. Wouldn't be stuck in this situation that forced him to choose between his beloved partner and his loyalty to everyone else. But when he finally let himself emerge from the depths of murky unconsciousness in the middle of the night, the throbbing in his arm where Patamon's fangs had penetrated earlier only seemed to make things more real. He retied the bandages covering the marks as tightly as he could.
I should tell someone. I should tell Hikari-chan. I should tell Nii-san. I should tell Taichi-san. He told himself this multiple times, curled up with his forehead cradled in his arms next to a snoozing Patamon. He knew it was the right thing to do.
Still, when he finally worked up enough courage to open up the messaging app on his phone, he found himself tapping out another lie in response to Hikari's texts.
He couldn't get Gomamon and Jou's words out of his mind.
"A mass infection? Don't say scary things like that!"
"We'll have to fight them."
The thought of having to stand by and watch as the rest of Digimon fought an out of control Patamon was terrifying enough that it immediately brought on waves of nauseating panic. If he told the others, it would be inevitable. The longer he lay there, the more he felt like the ceiling above him was closing in, pressing ever closer, pushing all the air out of his lungs.
What can I do? The tears he had been holding back like a vice finally came as he gazed at his partner sleeping peacefully on the pillow beside him.
A part of him hoped that the rest of the chosen would do all they could to help. They would definitely find a way to cure Patamon. That was why they were on the look out for Meicoomon now, right? That was why Koushirou was working his fingers to the bone on that keyboard.
But it was just Meicoomon who was infected. Meiko's partner. For all they knew, their own partners were safe and sound in the digital space. Maybe they had the faculty to try and help now, but if that became Patamon, and then Tailmon, and then Gabumon, then it could quickly become a very different story. And it was altogether possible that the rest of the Digimon could already be infected.
The horror on Jou's face had been real.
There would be fear. Fear would give birth to anger and despair, and then resentment. And they would know.
It started with Patamon.
How had it happened? And when? Had he been too careless before they decided to put the Digimon into the safe space?
As he sat there clutching his sheets, he had nightmarish sequences of Patamon and the other Digimon slowly disintegrating away. The chosen staring at him sadly. His brother walking away, shaking his head.
And Hikari. When his thoughts turned to her, her very being centered in all that is right, he felt so unworthy that the distance between them that had started to close up in the past few weeks seemed impossibly vast. He couldn't stop trembling.
From childhood, he had wished to become like her. His secret hero, bathed in light, eyes filled with something so sacred it didn't seem to fit in with the rest of the jarring world. For a while, he had almost believed he was the one chosen to stand in the same place, to share those things with her, to protect her. And he seemed to have everyone else convinced. But somewhere deep inside, he alone had always had the slightest feeling that it was all a charade, a made-up goodness that he had to carefully construct and execute. And it turned out that feeling had been right all along. Try as he might, there were smudges of selfishness and cowardice on him that he could not erase.
He was sure that saying anything about Patamon would expose that dirtiness within him. Everything would change. Their world, their togetherness, those hidden bits of sweetness that only he could reach—all of it would be closed off from him.
No matter what he did, he would lose Patamon. That itself was already tearing him apart on the inside.
He didn't want to lose anyone else.
It was this same fear that compelled him to call out to Meiko as she was crossing the street after the rest of the chosen had left to pick up their partners at Koushirou's office.
Her inky hair swaying, she turned back to him with an expression he could not read, but it was clear that she would rather do anything but talk to him.
So he blurted out the words that would force her to stay and listen. "It's Patamon."
The sun was just touching the horizon when he finally finished speaking. They had moved closer to the ocean to talk, as if the slow crashing of the waves on the sand could dispel the odd tension between them.
"Patamon is…!" Meiko gasped.
"I lied when I said everyone would be okay. But I just couldn't tell the truth." He could already feel the load on his shoulders lightening in the balmy evening breeze as he said this, the tightness in his chest dissipating with each breath.
"The truth…" She stood there unmoving like a faceless mannequin.
"What should I do? I might not be able to save Patamon," he said. "At this rate… what if Patamon…"
"I'm sorry."
The unexpected words drew him momentarily out of his self-absorption. He regarded Meiko in shock like he had forgotten she was there. She was bowed forward, her hands wrung together, her shoulders hunched.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Everything is my fault. I'm sorry. I'm sorry…"
Like a faucet that could not be turned off, the loneliness and remorse that had been buried deep within came tumbling from her lips profusely like water. The forcefulness of it hit him like a punch and pushed the breath out of him again.
He had made a mistake.
Mochizuki-san would understand because she was in the same situation. Maybe she knew more about the infection than she was letting on. Maybe she would have an idea of how to help Patamon. That was how his brain had rationalized telling her the truth. He had to get it out before it suffocated him, and she was the only one who couldn't blame or judge him for it. Maybe she would look down on him for lying to the others, but he was beyond worrying about that.
She had truly been the most innocuous choice—a way to get everything off his chest without having to face those he loved or the frightening prospect of their judgment, their disappointment.
He hadn't even stopped for a second to consider what it would do to her. And now, watching her whisper the same words over and over again in the growing darkness, he realized it should have been obvious that she would feel responsible. The judgment and disappointment that he had been so afraid of, that had been a crushing weight upon him, hadn't actually disappeared. He had just transferred it to her.
"No… I'm sorry," he tried to backpedal. "I didn't mean… it's not your fault. And everyone was doing their best to cheer you up, too… I…"
But it was too late to undo his selfish confession. The waves crashing on the shore nearby drowned him out as he trailed off. She shook her head and continued to fill the air with apologies that only made him feel worse until he finally walked away, leaving her standing alone before the darkened ocean.
He let his shame wet his face as he stumbled home.
I'm such a coward. Nothing's changed. I'm still the same crybaby I always was.
The chime of the doorbell cut through the rainy Sunday afternoon quiet.
"I'll get it," Hikari called, setting her book down on the table. A slew of worries had been vying for her attention all weekend. She was slowly chewing through one of her father's old science fiction trilogies in an effort to keep her mind off things, but the chapter she was reading had recently introduced a suave but sincere mercenary with eyes like polished sea glass, so she had been looking for an excuse to stop.
Tailmon leapt down from the sofa and followed her in soft lopes to the front door.
She didn't know who she had been expecting, but she was surprised. "Sora-san, Biyomon!"
The older girl stood in the doorway, her auburn locks slightly weighed down by the summer humidity, an umbrella in one arm and a ribboned gift box in the other. Biyomon preened wetness out of her feathers beside her.
"Hi Hikari-chan! Sorry for coming out of the blue." She raised a hand at Taichi, who had popped his head out of his room.
"Are you here to see Oniichan? I can take your umbrella," Hikari said.
Sora handed it off gratefully and leaned down to undo the buckles on her boots. "Actually, I was out with Biyomon and noticed a new cake shop just opened up nearby."
"Cake shop?"
She held up the box in her other arm with a smile. "Hikari-chan, you like peaches, right? I brought some fruit jelly."
"What about mine?" Taichi emerged fully from his room now with a miffed expression, perhaps at the fact that Sora didn't seem to be there for him.
"Ooh, what is it, Sora? Is it food?" His partner was right on his heels.
"Agumon, didn't you just eat two ice cream bars?" Tailmon sighed.
"So?"
Biyomon alighted down and carefully wiped her claws on the mat by the door. "Don't worry, there's enough for everyone. Sora spent a lot of time thinking about what to get."
"Biyomon! No need to share the unimportant details," Sora stammered.
"What? It's not unimportant. Everyone should know how considerate you are."
"That's Sora for you," Taichi said with a grin. "I knew you wouldn't let me down."
Reddening considerably, she thrust the box at him in exasperation. "It wasn't just for you, idiot. I'm here to see Hikari-chan. The two on the right are for you and Agumon, so could you just take them and leave us alone, already?"
"Me?" Hikari said.
"Eh? Hikari?" Taichi echoed. He opened the box and rummaged for the ones she had mentioned.
"Yes. Is that so weird?" She waited until he had the two sweets—pineapple and tangerine—balanced precariously on one hand, then grabbed the box back and proceeded to push him towards his room.
"Geez, I get it! What is it that I can't listen?"
The two girls exchanged a quick glance.
"Nothing you have to worry about, Oniichan," Hikari said with a saccharine smile at her brother. "Here, don't forget the spoons."
Hikari wasn't completely sure what Sora wanted to talk about, but that didn't stop her (and Takeru) from siding with Sora when it came to handling their older brothers. Once Taichi had gone reluctantly back into his room with Agumon, they settled down together on the living room floor with glasses of chilled milk tea in front of them.
"It feels like it's been forever…" Sora gazed around the Yagami apartment. Things still looked the exact same way they did when they were in elementary school except the TV, which was newer and a lot bigger.
"It has been a while since you were over," Hikari agreed.
More than a few years, in fact. The thought made Sora feel a bit sad, though she wasn't quite sure why. She and Taichi had remained close throughout the years, but now that they were older and no longer part of the same soccer club, they had stopped visiting each other's houses. There was just no reason to anymore; they saw each other at school and met outside often enough. A part of her missed those days when that was all they did—living and breathing soccer. They would run around passing the ball to each other at the park just around the corner, then go clambering up the stairs to his house where his mom would have ice cold slices of watermelon waiting for them. And on match days, he would wait outside her house for her as she got ready, the rhythmic thunking of the soccer ball on his knees a constant reminder that he was there.
But why couldn't it be that way even now? There was nothing stopping them. Sometimes Sora asked herself this, but whenever she got to thinking about it seriously, Yamato would come into the picture, and things would become a whole lot more complicated. It was almost like she didn't have enough room in her mind for both of them.
"Sora-san?"
Now was not the time to be contemplating a long gone relationship. Not gone, she told herself, different. "I'm fine, sorry. This looks good!" She popped the cap off her cup carefully to avoid crushing the giant ruby romans at the bottom.
Hikari smiled. She could guess what Sora had been thinking but decided not to say anything. Instead, she gathered up a bit of jelly and cubed white peaches in one spoonful. It melted down, sweet and creamy and cool. An antidote for the bitter unease in the pit of her stomach.
"Oishii!" Her eyes widened.
"I'm glad you like it. The shop was attached to a little cafe, so you should go with your friends some time!" Sora said. "It looked like they roast their own coffee beans, too. Takeru-kun likes coffee, doesn't he?"
"He does." The mention of Takeru brought the unease thick up her throat, so she swallowed it down with a sip of tea and another spoonful of jelly. They hadn't spoken all weekend.
Sora regarded the younger girl for a moment before setting her spoon down. "Is everything okay, Hikari-chan?"
Hikari started to nod by reflex and hated herself for it.
"You looked like something was bothering you the other day. When we were picking up the Digimon at Koushirou-kun's office."
"I did?" She had been perplexed and anxious, that was for certain, but she had no idea it had been so visible on her face.
"Maybe I was the only one who thought that," Sora reassured her. "I just wanted to make sure..."
There was a sort of lamenting warmth in Sora's eyes as her gaze drifted downwards and to the floor. Hikari could see the days she had spent fretting, trying to hold them all together where they were splitting apart. She was a seamstress, mending tears and never letting the connections between them run thin, all at her own expense. Of course, they wouldn't always let her, but that was something she had learned to live with.
Something inside Hikari unraveled at this. "I… I'm worried about Takeru-kun."
Sora looked up. "Takeru-kun? You mean how he brought Patamon out all of a sudden?"
"He didn't tell me about Patamon. I've tried to reach him, but we haven't spoken since," Hikari murmured. Another lump of anxiety creeped up her throat, but this time she let her words carry it out into the open. "It feels like… I can't see where he is. Like he's hidden from me."
"That's not like Takeru-kun. I always thought there were no secrets between the two of you."
"It's not like Patamon, either," Tailmon interjected from behind them. "I heard Patamon was the one who insisted that he would go with Takeru. Patamon may seem childish, but it's not like him to go against something we all decided."
"Did he say anything to you?" Sora asked.
Tailmon and Biyomon looked at each other and shook their heads.
"We were busy talking to Tentomon because he was stressed out about Koushirou… There was some kind of commotion happening, but it just didn't hit us until we realized Patamon wasn't there anymore," Biyomon answered.
Sora contemplated this. "...Takeru-kun did get really mad on Friday, didn't he? I've never heard him say anything like that before."
Biyomon let out a beaky laugh. "Much less to Yamato!"
"Yamato-san was really shocked, wasn't he?" Hikari couldn't help but smile at the memory.
"He was. Did you see his face? It was like the world was ending."
"Do you think Taichi would react the same way if Hikari got that angry at him?" Biyomon wondered.
"Most definitely. Even worse, probably," Tailmon said as she fished the last strawberry from the bottom of her cup. "But Hikari wouldn't get mad at him like that."
"Brothers," Sora sighed.
Hikari tried to think back to the exact moment that had shocked Yamato into compliant silence. Something about Takeru's outburst had been familiar—they had all been surprised, but not her. It was a Takeru she had seen before, maybe one that only she knew of. When had she seen him get that angry before?
No, not just angry.
Afraid.
"Sora-san, you said you've never heard Takeru-kun say anything like that before… but I feel like I have."
"Takeru-kun got that mad at you?" Biyomon and Sora stared at her with round eyes as if they could never conceive of such a thing.
"I don't think he was really angry on Friday," Hikari explained. "He felt… more scared of something."
Tailmon sat up in recognition. "I think I know what you're talking about." When none of them said anything, she continued, "You mean that time you got taken away to that place. The ocean."
"The ocean… you mean the dark ocean?" A crease made itself known between Sora's brows. The older chosen all knew about its existence and the fact that both Ken and Hikari had a strange sensitivity to its pull, but none of them knew what had happened three years ago. Given that neither Takeru nor Hikari were prone to speaking very openly about their struggles, the details of that strange, traumatic event had stayed between the two of them.
"Yes," Hikari murmured. "I was… called there once, and somehow Takeru-kun found me."
"You were called there? Alone?"
She nodded.
"Why? For what reason?" Sora felt her voice rising with indignation.
Hikari was silent. The slight solitude of the younger girl's shoulders struck Sora afresh.
How long had she struggled by herself, fighting against demons and darkness that the rest of them couldn't see? In the Digital World, time and time again, her presence had guided them. She was the first to see things, the most sensitive to shifts in the continuum between the two worlds and the one chosen to represent the light that held everything in balance. It was easy to define her by the moments they all remembered—when she was worshiped by hordes of Numemon, when Homeostasis spoke through her, when she gave herself up to Vanedemon to save everyone else—and to forget that she was also just a normal girl who loved ice cream and taking photos and her older brother. She had never asked for any of this, and yet she let them all leave her up there on that pedestal to deal with all the frightening things on her own.
Sora had always been vaguely aware of how Hikari was prone to isolation, both self-inflicted and thrust upon by others. She had seen firsthand during the ups and downs of their first adventure how the younger girl's seemingly only tie to the rest of the grounded world was her older brother.
And that was why, when left with no one else, their leader—her brother—and the rest of the chosen turned into stone-cold dolls at the hand of Piedmon, she had turned to the other small one in their group, the one with the green hat, and put Hikari's hand in his.
"Takeru-kun, listen to me. You have to protect Hikari-chan. Only you can do it. Now, go! Run!"
Sora bit her lip as she considered what Hikari had said moments ago, that Takeru felt hidden from her. She had been right to be worried.
"That day, I told Takeru-kun that I felt like I was being called somewhere far away. I was thinking about how helpless I was without… without Oniichan, and Takeru-kun got upset."
"It wasn't just then. It was the whole time while we were looking for Hikari after that," Tailmon added. "He called his own Digivice useless, but I think he was actually talking about himself."
"But what was he afraid of?" Biyomon asked.
The answer seemed straightforward to Sora. "...losing Hikari-chan."
In what capacity of loss that was though, wasn't as clear. Frustration at not knowing what was trying to call her away from the world where he could reach her. And perhaps a yet unidentified jealousy towards her reliance on her brother.
"He always seems confident, but I think there's a part of him that's constantly afraid of losing something," Hikari said quietly.
"It makes sense. Takeru-kun is the only one out of the eight of us who experienced losing his partner, and that was when he was seven. I don't know if he ever got over it." Sora stared at the caramel colored tea with its white swirls of milk on the coffee table. "Yamato did his best, but we were all so young back then. None of us knew how to process it, let alone comfort him."
It had been horrifying enough for the rest of them. The death and loss of a beloved partner. They knew all too well that it was a definite possibility now; the initial experience with Patamon had quickly broken any child-like notions of invincibility, the rosy walls of innocence that made all of those unavoidable realities of life seem worlds away. It was why they had all undertaken the task of finding and saving Meicoomon with a gravity perhaps unbefitting of a group of teenagers.
And if it had been like that for the rest of them, how utterly world-shattering it must have been for Takeru.
He still lived fresh in their memories—a little boy with his arms thrown out defiantly against an impossible enemy, tears streaming down his ruddy cheeks.
"You know, Hikari-chan, I still remember asking him to protect you. He cried so often back then, but not when I left you alone together. I think you were his comfort in a way… having you to protect healed his sense of self. I always got the feeling that he blamed himself for what happened to Patamon."
Biyomon ruffled her feathers irritatedly. "But it was Devimon's fault!"
"Still… he must have felt responsible. That he could have done something to stop it," Sora reflected.
Much like the first time, with his family.
"It's that same fear now? He's afraid of losing something now?" Biyomon asked.
"It must be…" Tailmon started, then stopped. A horrifying possibility came to her then, and she had to fight to keep her expression in check. Something about the way Hikari's eyes brimmed with compassion and grief kept her from saying anything.
"I don't want Takeru-kun to be afraid on his own," Hikari said plainly.
It was like her to be this way, to focus on the pain of others without regard for her own feelings about the situation. That's why we're all here for you, Tailmon thought to herself. She suspected that was also the reason why Sora had come calling so suddenly. And as she contemplated her gloved paws sadly, she wondered how long she would be able to remain by her partner's side. Could their bonds truly go on indefinitely like this?
"Maybe now's the time for us to support him. I'll try calling him later tonight," Sora said, taking Hikari's hand in her own and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
Hikari nodded. "I'll see if I can talk to him again at school."
"And we can talk to Patamon," Biyomon said. "I don't think anything seemed wrong with him…"
"But it doesn't hurt to ask," Tailmon agreed, closing her eyes.
"Hikari-chan."
There was a hard seriousness in Sora's voice that surprised them all into attention. She tightened her grip on Hikari's hand as she thought of the true reason she had come to visit. To somehow call out to the small girl who stood alone before a bleak, vast ocean.
Please reach her. Anything from today—these words I'm about to say, the sweetness of the fruit jelly, the laughter we shared—it doesn't matter what it is. It might not be enough to save her completely when the time comes, but even if it's only a single thread, if that's enough to catch her before she can drift away, that's all I ask for.
"Remember, we're always here for you. All of us."
That was the best she could do right now. Was it enough? She felt the hand in hers stir and give a squeeze in return as some layer of darkness dissipated from the warm brown eyes.
"Thank you, Sora-san."
"Takaishi-kun? What are you doing here?"
The voice that cut through Takeru's dreary thoughts was bright with a nonchalance that seemed too carefully executed to be real, throbbing into his head like an alarm.
He looked up and felt the backboard of the fence rub into his back. "Oh, Kikuchi-chan. Just thinking."
She cast a shadow over him, her cheeks flushed from the summer sun. "I… I see."
"What about you? You aren't going to eat lunch?" He asked.
She was prepared. "Oh, I already finished eating. I lost one of the charms off my phone, so I came to see if I dropped it on the field during cheer practice, and then I noticed you sitting here."
"Need some help looking?"
"Nope! I found it!" She pulled the cracked blue bead out of her skirt pocket triumphantly for him to see, then shoved it back, leaving her hands nervously thrust within. "Umm… what were you thinking about?"
"Nothing important. I wanted to get some fresh air. Although, I wouldn't exactly call it fresh in this heat." He gave her a grin that was also too carefully executed to be real, though she didn't seem to pick up on this.
She leaned up against the fence beside him. "It really is way too hot! So, what did you think of Noda-sensei's pop quiz today?"
"Your class got it too, huh?" He said. "I lucked out. I just happened to review that section in the textbook last night."
Studying helped keep his mind off the more imminent worries.
"Oooh, that's Takaishi-kun for you! I totally bombed it…" She groaned and covered her face, and he laughed at her dramatic reaction.
"Hey, the world won't end because of a single quiz."
"Gawd I hope not. If the world depended on my quiz results, Armageddon would literally be tomorrow. Ooh, but then at least my report card will be destroyed so my parents don't have to see it!"
He smiled, and this time, he didn't have to strain so hard to do so. Kikuchi was always so bright and animated, something he especially appreciated now. Her good cheer seemed to rub off on him.
"Could you make sure my maths report card gets destroyed too, while you're at it?"
"Oh, so you do have a weakness!" She cried.
"You caught me. But let's just keep that between us," he answered with a wink. "Don't need Suzuki trying to exploit that."
Kikuchi gaped and blushed fiercely and had to turn away for a moment to hide it. How in the world did he manage to be so charming? If anyone else did the things he did, it would seem cheesy and forced, but he did it as naturally as if he had waltzed right out of a shoujo manga.
Takeru stood and dusted his uniform off, wondering if it would be wise to dismiss himself and find some other corner of the school where he would attract less attention. He could see where their conversation would go, especially since Fujioka had none too graciously tipped him off already. It wasn't that he was avoiding it per se; he liked Kikuchi and thought of her as a good friend, so the prospect of her confessing to him was not at all unpleasant, other than the fact that he would have to let her down. In fact, a part of him welcomed it—if it would give him something else to think about, another excuse to shut away the other half of his life…
"Takaishi-kun, you like coffee, right?"
"Mhmm."
Kikuchi drew her hands together and fidgeted restlessly with the blue charm. "There… there's a cafe that opened up recently near Tsukishima station that I was curious about. They have fruit jellies and stuff, and like, the most amazing looking sachertorte… and I think they have some special kind of coffee?"
He ignored the momentary pang in his chest as he was reminded of another sweets-lover in his life.
"Takeru-kun, look at that new cafe. Oh, fruit jelly! I wonder if they have peach."
What he would give to go with her and watch her eyes light up as she tugged at his sleeve pointing out this cake and that cake in a rare show of excitement. And he would sit beside her with a chilled cup of black coffee, stealing little bites from her spoon and letting her have some of his in return... Unfortunately, she was also the one person he could not see right now.
"I heard you liked coffee, so I was thinking maybe…"
"I have time after practice today. Want to go?" He turned to Kikuchi and chuckled as she almost fell over in shock. The way she glimmered with the unrestrained adoration of a teenage crush was endearing, and he let this erase thoughts of fair skin and silky brown locks.
"R-really?!" She gasped. "You aren't busy with… your family?"
He shrugged. "I've been trying to vanish a bit. There's been so much going on. They won't miss me if I'm gone for a day."
"Yay! I can't wait!" Kikuchi squealed, secretly commending herself. Getting away from their friends, following him out to the field, ripping one of the charms off her phone strap to create the perfect excuse—it had all been worth it.
"I'll meet you by the school gate then."
This is fine, Takeru thought. The publication club was crunching for the next issue of the school magazine. The staff would be working until late, so there wasn't much chance that Hikari would catch him on the way home from basketball practice. Still, filling up his schedule was the safest thing he could do right now.
Besides that, chatting with Kikuchi was so everyday, so normal, that it came as an immense relief to him. He found himself looking forward to it.
The corridors were filled with a cool evening silence, and with each step past the empty classrooms, Hikari grew less and less sure of herself. It was as expected that there was no one in class during after school hours, but it just contributed to the feeling that she was alone in a different dimension. It was a good hour past the time when she was supposed to be at the publication room. No doubt everyone was worried.
She had no memory of what had happened before she awoke in the arms of that female government official who had been involved with their ordeal, but she had some inklings within her—a creeping whisper of something that had penetrated her mind and gone, something apathetic and unbending. Not herself. Not human, either. The dead phone tucked in her skirt pocket felt ice cold against her leg.
They're coming again, she thought. The beings that hunted her inner self, looking for openings to sweep in and overwhelm whatever frail existence awaited them. She knew they fed off vulnerabilities—rejections of her own self. The things she could show no one else.
She knew deep down that she wasn't truly alone. She tried to remember her previous conversation with Sora, but the signs of Takeru's absence were already starting to manifest. Earlier in the day, she had been through the school, through all of the places where she could expect to find him. In his classroom. On the rooftop. In the library. Places where, on any other day, he would have glanced up at her and presented her with that radiant, unyielding smile.
But they had all been empty. And all of these familiar places had become hostile and unwelcoming without him there.
Where are you, Takeru-kun?
He would be in the middle of basketball practice, no doubt. She contemplated going to see him, but she had pages to finish and more pages to check, and she would never let herself skip out on responsibilities. That, and something about Takeru's vanishing was strange. It was too complete, too perfect, to be coincidental.
Perhaps he was hiding. The idea left her head spinning; she wanted to know why. But at the same time, she wasn't quite bold enough to force an encounter that he was likely doing everything he could to avoid. It would be like trapping him against his will.
As she tread slowly down the hall, her thoughts turned to that night they spent together during the storm. Not much else had happened between them, but there was still a raw, somewhat shameful feeling that remained engrained at the forefront of her mind.
After an anticlimactic ending to their game of chess, he had handed her a fluffy white bath towel and pointed out the bathroom so she could wash up for the night. She stripped off the thin layers of her summer uniform and, suddenly conscious of her nakedness with him just down the hall and only the gauzy curtain hung over the doorway of the bathroom between them, quickly let the steam from the shower envelop her. But even after washing and rubbing her body down with the towel and pulling her uniform back on, she still felt oddly exposed.
What they had revealed to each other earlier that evening and the way he looked at her as she emerged from the bathroom, her skin fresh and still damp, made her feel naked before him.
That feeling continued even after he bid her good night and she climbed into his bed.
And as she lay there, everything around her was indirectly him—the pillow under her head, the sheets, the silky comforter surrounding her. There was no escaping him. His scent.
What she experienced was sweet intimacy, laying there in his bed with her heart stripped open.
This memory juxtaposed with the image of him standing at the street light with Meiko made her so anxious it repulsed her. Now that he was hidden from her, that scene in her head was the only place where she seemed able to find him. What had they spoken about? It was another dizzying question. Her worry and love for him, for the little boy with the green hat who shed countless tears, had morphed into such a bitter, wretched beast that it wanted everything for itself. His eyes, his gentle voice, his scent, his struggles, his triumphs—they're mine, they must be mine, no one else can have them. It ravaged her inside and left her feeling raw.
Of course, that had nothing to do with Meiko and what was happening. Meiko was suffering, and they were doing the best they could to help her. Takeru was only doing the same.
Even now, she could still smell his scent lingering on the sleeves of her uniform, and she despised the room it took up in her heart. She was sure those entities trying to consume her had sensed her ire at her own nakedness and latched onto this.
A clammy touch slipped down her back and she shuddered violently. Where was she again? Her legs slowed as if she was wading through water.
"Yagami!"
She looked up at the voice that pierced through the fog. Aren was striding towards her, brow furrowed. She had made it to the publication room.
"Aren-kun…"
"Hika-chan, thank goodness! We couldn't get a hold of you!" Arisa cried as she and other members of the staff came running to the door. "We were so worried… Aren was about to go looking for you."
She gave them an apologetic smile, but as she opened her mouth to reassure them, she felt the floor slide out from underneath her feet again. All of the sharp malicious things in the world converged to rip her nakedness to shreds.
"Hikari-chan!" Miyashita cried.
"Yagami!" Aren broke into a sprint and was the first to get to her, catching her before she could touch the floor. His heart dropped at the heat emanating from her body.
"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I'm okay."
"Don't be ridiculous. We're going to the nurse's office. Now."
She turned to him, surprised. She had never seen Aren look or sound that angry before. He glanced up at his sister, who had joined them in the hallway, her eyes tearing up in fear. "Go let Yoshiki-senpai know."
Arisa nodded and went quickly back into the publication room.
"Come on, Yagami." He bent down and swung her up on his back with ease before she could protest and started back down the hall towards the stairwell. He was walking quickly, but his strides were so careful that she could barely feel any jostling.
"Please, Aren-kun. I can walk fine on my own," she said.
He stopped for a moment. The heat emanating from her body was more than just her physical temperature. It felt like something had come and grasped her soul, her very being, and the notion stirred up some hidden anger within him.
What, you don't want help if it's not from Takaishi? Well, he's not here, is he? The words were right on his lips.
But instead, he said, "You're always working so hard to be completely alone. Why is that?"
He could feel her breaths quieting on the back of his neck.
"Look, I don't know everything that's happening. But I can say this: Whoever or whatever told you you have to do this all alone—it isn't true, okay?"
Why couldn't it be me? he thought. The one by her side through whatever this all is? The one to light this fire in her heart and her body, to know her, to touch her entire being?
"This might be the best we can do. So at least let us do this much."
She knew he was talking about the rest of their friend group as well, not just himself. Ran and Arisa, Mami, Miyashita, Sano. They could see something happening in some unknown area of her life, something that was beyond their capacity to do anything about. Something that she refused to let them become a part of. Out of love and concern, yes, but it did also amount to pushing them away. Suddenly, she felt ashamed at this and grateful for both their understanding and continued presence in her life. Her silence was demonstration enough of her acquiescence, and he continued down the stairs.
"Yagami, do you remember when we first met?"
"…last year. We were on morning duty together one day." She peered into the empty classrooms as they passed. The threatening feeling had gone out of them.
"We were in the same class, but we didn't really talk until then." He hesitated a tad. "But you know, I noticed you."
The way you always took the tedious tasks no one in class wanted without ever complaining. The way you treated everyone in class as equally important, no matter who they were friends with, no matter what they wore, no matter what rumors were going around.
"You were kind of scary, to be completely honest. I thought, how can a person be like that?" He admitted.
It was true. The years as a child model and the popular one in his class had driven a bit of cold cynicism into him about the way that people were. They only acted in their self-interest. Even the ones who seemed upstanding and selfless at first had been unable to stand the test of time, revealing little cracks in their facades, showing the true reasons why they had become friends with him. He had built walls around himself in time, only letting his guard down with his sister.
So the way that she stared at him plainly yet wholeheartedly, the same way that she looked at everybody else, had been both intriguing and terrifying.
"Was I that strange?" She murmured.
"Strangely perfect." He barely had to shift her weight around as he walked, she was so slight. "Until I talked to you for the first time. Then, I realized you're just like any other girl. You just don't let yourself show it."
He had watched her for some time during that first semester out of the corners of his gray eyes. Her sincerity had, surprisingly, held up that long under his secret scrutiny. And time and observation had revealed other things as well. The way the straightness of her shoulders trembled under some invisible weight. The way her smile concealed pain and discomfort. The way she was surrounded by laughing friends but somehow always one step removed from them.
Her subtle solitude reminded him of himself, in a way. Resigned to teetering dangerously high on a growing pile of expectations and responsibilities.
The morning they talked for the first time was chilly, still a bit dark in the throes of winter, and he had been in the middle of putting announcements up on the board. Neither of them were particularly talkative, so they were content to work on their assigned tasks in silence. After pulling back the curtains and opening the windows, she was supposed to take the class' finished assignments from the previous day to the faculty room. But there were a lot of notebooks, and they were the heavy spiraled kind to boot, meaning she would have to make two trips. So when she took the first stack and started making her way down the hall, he wordlessly bent down to pick up the second stack and followed.
They didn't speak the whole way there or back, though she did cast him a curious glance as he set his stack down beside hers on the literature teacher's desk. It wasn't until they were back in the classroom that she turned to him with wide eyes and a softly mouthed thank you.
"I… I don't like walking around the school when no one's here," she explained. "But I could never ask anyone to come with me."
He had been surprised and enraptured by the sudden vulnerability. He could still picture the way the light had come back to her face as she said this. And he had been left with the single thought that he would do whatever he could to keep that look on her face.
"We talked that morning, and I thought, I can get along with this girl after all," he said. "You aren't perfect. And you don't have to be."
I wanted to be the one. But even if I can't be, someday in the future, when you're alone or scared, if I could be just one of the people that you think of for strength…
He stopped in front of the nurse's office and finally let her down. She landed on her feet and swayed for a moment, as pale as a flower, before giving him a smile.
"Thank you for the reminder. And for coming with me. Again."
It was enough for him. "I haven't forgotten."
She slid the door to the nurse's office open, then stopped and peeked back at him. "Are you going to let me go back to the publication room at all? I have a page I need to submit."
He sighed. "If you let the nurse take your temperature, and there's nothing wrong, then maybe."
The one thing Hikari really wanted to do was go home. Home to the cool solitude of her room, and to her brother, who never failed to put her at ease.
When she returned to the publication room after that fainting scare, everyone on staff had pleaded with her to do so, but the pages wouldn't get done if she did. Besides, the nurse had taken her temperature (at Aren's insistence), and everything had been fine. So she stayed and labored and squinted through a watery world she was fairly certain had to do with the muggy summer heat—it certainly wasn't because of how her eyes kept tearing up as her thoughts from earlier came back full force.
Sudden whispering and gasps (mostly female) coming from the main newsroom thankfully provided her with some distraction.
Could it be? She was hopeful. Females in awe could only mean one person. Footsteps approached the backroom. She cleared her throat, wiped her eyes.
The door opened, but she didn't get the warm smile and sea green eyes she had been half-hoping for. The person who walked in had the same dirty blonde hair and lanky height, but sharper features, more wolfish. He had a helmet under his arm.
"Hey, Hikari-chan," Yamato said quietly. "You got a second to talk?"
They walked around the perimeter of the school and found a bench just behind the main building. It was far from the gym where the basketball club would be having practice, and the only things within earshot were the faculty room and the nurse's office, which were typically less frequented during after school hours.
They sat for a few moments as Yamato fished his phone out of his pocket. Hikari felt hidden tears gather behind her eyes before such a familiar presence.
"Sorry to come suddenly. I figured this would be the best time to…" he trailed off with a knowing look on his face, which she understood.
He knew she wouldn't have wanted to be overheard by any of the chosen. Especially not her caring older brother, who had too much on his mind already, and especially not Takeru.
She nodded.
"Well, I don't want to keep you out here for too long." He held his phone out at her. "Were you able to talk to Takeru, or has he been avoiding you, too?"
The screen was a long list of outbound calls to his younger brother that had all gone to voicemail. There were a few calls to Sora in between, and notably, a call to her own brother.
She sighed.
"Here, this too. He's pretty obvious, isn't he?"
A text this time, apologizing for the lack of response and citing that he was 'way too busy' trying to catch up on missed basketball practice.
"I finally just went to see him, and he played it off by telling me he's worried about my band or what not, but if he thinks he can fool his own brother like that…"
Hikari spoke, her voice so small he had to lean in to hear her. "Yamato-san, if you're here because you think I know what's going on with Takeru-kun—"
"Is that why you think I came? Nah." He relaxed back against the bench and tried to catch her brown eyes with his own. He could tell she was avoiding them. "I wanted to see if you were okay."
I'm fine. She looked up at him and opened her mouth, reaching for the words that had become her crutch. Those terrible, dishonest words that she both relied on and despised. But they didn't come.
"Remember, we're always here for you. All of us."
"At least let us do this much."
As she remembered the words that had come from those around her to penetrate her silent woes, a single tear broke free from her hold and trailed down her cheek.
Yamato wasn't surprised. Normally, girls and their feelings were beyond his capacity to process, but Hikari had become more and more like family over the years, starting with that incident during their first adventure when Taichi left her in his care. He had been rather inadequate, having only had a younger brother and no previous experience taking care of a worried little girl—not to mention the fact that he wasn't able to fend off the enemies, which eventually led to her own self-sacrifice and capture. Still, it was after that incident that she started running to him and calling him 'Yamato-niisan.' And despite his initial awkwardness, he had quickly warmed to the idea of having a younger sister.
But it was more than just familial feelings of concern that had brought him there. He knew he was the only one who could even begin to understand how she felt.
She looked down and tried to staunch the flow of tears, but they wouldn't stop, so she just let them flow. Something within her was unraveling even further. It was a relief.
"I'm sorry," she murmured.
"Hey, it's okay," he said. He knew this was the only chance she would have to cry.
They sat there together for a moment. He offered her his sleeve; when she turned that down out of consideration for his school uniform, he offered her some pocket tissues instead, which she gratefully accepted. Neither of them noticed the boy watching them from the shadow of the tree in front of the nurse's office.
When the tears finally stopped, she felt a lot better. Some fog of worry in the back of her mind had cleared. Another one of the people Takeru held most dear was beside her, with a sad smile that mirrored her own feelings.
"Are you worried about Takeru?" he asked her.
She nodded, suddenly shy after crying in front of him.
"Me too," he reciprocated with a grin. "That makes two of us. Worried and clueless."
"Yamato-san…" she said. "Does it hurt that Takeru-kun isn't telling you what's going on?"
"Of course."
"But you won't push him on it?"
His fingers tapped an erratic rhythm out on the bench. "For the same reason you won't."
A part of her wondered absentmindedly whether that was a new song he was working on. The other debated whether to tell Yamato what she had seen the other day—Takeru calling out to Meiko. She wondered what he would say.
"It sucks, but it doesn't change what we'll do, does it?" He mentioned, before she could say anything.
He was right. She saw the same determination in his face. Regardless of how painful it was that Takeru was shutting them out, regardless of how dastardly of a deed he was hiding, regardless of whether he was right or wrong, they would be there for him. On his side, no matter what. For the both of them, that was unspoken and obvious.
He reached out, brushed a few callused fingertips on the top of her head, then withdrew them quickly. He wasn't really the physical type, so that single action seemed to hold a lot of meaning. Understanding. Gratitude. And pride, too.
"That's why I came to see you."
The smile she gave him was genuine. "Thank you, Yamato-san."
Now it was his turn to cough in embarrassment. "Don't mention it."
He stood. Takeru's weakness and how he'd made her cry was unacceptable—Yamato resolved to give him a good butt-kicking later on. But for now, he and the girl before him were united in this: they would support Takeru through whatever it was that was plaguing him.
"Are you really going back to your club?" he asked, watching her wipe away any evidence of tears from her eyes.
"I feel a lot better now," she insisted.
"Something happened, huh? Something else." He narrowed his eyes. "That's why everyone kept asking you to go home and rest earlier."
"… I was feeling a bit dizzy earlier, but I'm okay now."
He shook his head. "Do you think you and Takeru are any different when it comes to stuff like this?"
She bit her lip. Of course. The more she cared about someone, the more she wanted to keep from them. Like wanting to keep her school friends out of any business related to the Digital World. It was ingrained in her, and in Takeru as well. The realization unclenched some tension in the pit of her stomach.
"I'm taking you home. Let's go tell your club president." Yamato held out the helmet that had been tucked under his arm.
"But…"
He could read the concern on her face. "Taichi's at soccer practice anyways, so he won't know you came home early."
She acquiesced at this and accepted the helmet. "Yamato-san? Promise me you won't tell Oniichan or Takeru-kun about…"
She knew she was being a hypocrite. But he nodded.
"Okay. I'll give you that much. As for me… you're going to just have to live with me knowing. Deal?"
She nodded back, and they walked towards the publication room together.
Fujioka stepped out of the shadows silently. He had long since gotten what he had come to the nurse's office for—an ice pack for his jammed finger. But he found himself still standing there, watching the puzzling scene unfold as the ice pack melted in the heat and quickly became useless.
He had never seen her cry before.
Hikari and Yamato emerged back around the school, heading towards a large motorcycle that was parked near the back. He helped her carefully up to the passenger seat, then swung himself up in front of her, and she clung tightly to him as they drove away.
Fujioka turned to go back to the gym where basketball practice raged on and a certain blonde-haired friend worked his way skillfully through drill after drill, oblivious to what had happened. Would he tell Takeru about what he'd seen? He worked the now lukewarm ice pack between his fingers. No, it wasn't any of his business anyway. If something was distressing Hikari, Takeru would already know about it, he was sure.
Digiegg 12: headcanon, Takari vibes playlist pt2
Eine Kleine - 米津玄師
Mela! - 緑黄色社会
Shirushi - Luck Life
Love in the Ice - TVXQ
Ice Cream Syndrome - Sukimaswitch
Thunder - BOYS LIKE GIRLS
Sour Grapes - LE SSERAFIM
Close to you - The Carpenters
