Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Of Doors and Data ❯ Limitations ( Chapter 3 )

~*~Disclaimer~*~

I don't own Digimon itself, or characters associated with it. But if I make one of them up I own his/her/it's name and characteristics. The same goes for other new characters. Odds are I wont in this story, but I will someday. `) I also own chapter names, unless somebody sues me because they though of it first, but rest assured, I tried to be original. Same goes for story titles.

Still no money, and I'm wondering why I even bother copy/pasting this from my old chapters...

Oh well, moumantai, it's better than a lawsuit.

...who the hell would sue me for writing about digimon?

Ok, I'm distracting myself, down to business then.

Remember, this is all taking place after the digimon were sent back, but before the epilouge of the final episode. Not giving away too much, that'll be when the two timelines catch up. I messed up Suzie's age in chapter 1, but it should be fixed by the time you're reading this.

Remember to R&R!

Chapter 3: Limitations

Though the digimon held no illusions about the difficulty involved in digivolving without a tamer, they often found themselves becoming very frustrated with the tediousness of their day to day life. Since the first day, they had all been physically training themselves, using their mediocre special attacks against each other, pushing each other to the limits of their data and their patience. It had been a long time since any of them had been in their In-Training forms. Worse, some of the digimon, Guilmon the most obviously, had never even been in their new (or old from another perspective) bodies. They had the most trouble though with simply learning the new limits of their forms. Often times, they found themselves simply unable to practice, not from being barraged by too many third-rate attacks, but because they were just tired. They seemed to be sleeping more, and as a consequence, they got less work done.

The two that were most frustrated however were Calumon and MarineAngemon. Calumon hated watching their endurance practices, or their speed training. He sometimes took part, but it was only really to delay the steady progress of boredom. He really had nothing to do in the group, he couldn't even help when they focused all their attacks on one digimon to try to coax a sort of, "desperation digivolution," because he HAD no attack. MarineAngemon found himself useful at least in training the others up, because even though he was taking abnormally long time to recuperate his fighting strength, he was, by two weeks since their landing, superior to the others by far.

The tediousness of the whole situation seemed to be getting to them the worst. They voiced their complaints on deaf ears regularly.

After a longer endurance routine than usual, a battered and exhausted Pokomon said, "This has got to stop, we're making no progress." She was right. Though it had been three weeks, the seven training digimon showed little signs of ability improvement or their goal, digivolution.

"This is like a bad recurring nightmare, I thought I was done with this crappy solo training when I got back together with my tamers," Yaamon complained.

"Let's just take the rest of the day off, we're all too exhausted to any good now, and I can tell you that my data is stretched to the limit," Gummymon said. "Lets rethink our strategy tomorrow, I for one need some rest."

They all concurred, and settled down for a much deserved sleep. As the digital sun set and the last of them drifted off into the oblivion of sleep, off in the distance a light flickered against the horizon. As darkness overtook the land completely, the light followed suit and winked out of existence.

~*~

The next day they woke, not expecting much, frustrated at their inability to advance their power to the limit of digivolution. As they all dug themselves in by the waterhole for a long debate, Gigimon simply stated, "We're getting nowhere with this training."

"Well then how do you suppose we advance from here tomato face?" an irritated Hopmon asked.

"I-I don't know..." Gigimon replied, his attempt at leadership shot down by the little pointy digimon.

"Well one thing is obvious, and that we aren't going to digivolve this way," Chocomon said, "and the only other thing that could help us are the sovereign. But we need to digivolve to get to the sovereign!"

"Yes. Though it should have occurred to me earlier that this wouldn't have worked from the start. Ruki and I tried this once before, when we first started off as partners, all we did was battle and absorb data, thinking that once I became strong enough I would be able to digivolve. But it was only when Ruki was in danger, or when she was helping me could I become Kyuubimon," Pokomon concluded.

"Well then why didn't you say anything BEFORE WE WORKED FOR WEEKS ON SOME STUPID FRUITLESS VENTURE LIKE THIS???" the usually docile, but now suddenly angry Kapurimon shouted.

A startled Gummymon managed to slip in a, "Moumantai!! Calm down!," Before Pokomon continued.

"Do you remember your digivolution into your rookie form?" Pokomon simply asked.

"Why do you want to know?" A now confused, defensive Kapurimon responded with a question of his own.

"Just asking, it may help. How did you do it?" Pokomon asked again.

"Um-well-I don't exactly remember..." Kapurimon responded, thoroughly chastened after his outburst by his own forgetfulness.

"As I thought. Can any of you remember? Anything about how you did it? Or where you were born? No Gigimon, you don't count," Pokomon drilled, silencing the uppity digimon. Slowly, they all one by one shook their heads no, and Pokomon smiled at her discovery. "Neither do I. I think that our forms aren't meant to remember too many things, we're like simple programs that are meant to work with a single mindedness that our later forms wouldn't need. But since we've been dedigivolved forcefully, from much more complicated beings, we must be only partially effected. Like it's a temporary condition that we can fight off. This would explain how we worked for three weeks without questioning our actions, and forgetting simple little things. Our basic instincts must have taken over."

"Well how is this supposed to help us fox face?" Yaamon asked.

"I'm not sure yet. Can any of you remember anything from your early lives? What about you Chocomon, you used to be a servant the Sovereign before, can`t you remember ever being in your in training form?" Pokomon asked.

"No, not exactly. All I specifically remember was working as one of their Devas for the longest time, and that they gave me the power to become Antilamon," Chocomon scratched her head, "But I do have some images of my early life, only flashes really. For some reason the image of a room with round orbs in it keeps popping up in my head. And some flashing light. But I don't remember seeing the place before, ever. It`s as if the memory doesn`t belong to me."

"That's weird..." Gigimon trailed off, seemingly lost in thought.

"What's odd?" Gummymon inquired.

"Well, I've been getting that image in my head for a while now too," Gigimon continued, "It's been floating around in my head since yesterday."

"Now that you mention it, that sounds familiar to me too," Hopmon remembered, "I can remember something just like it."

"Great, so at least I'm not the only one going nuts, good thing too," Yaamon quipped.

"Are you remembering too?" Pokomon asked.

The little purple and brown digimon winked at Pokomon and sarcastically said, "You`re a smart digimon, can't you figure something that easy out?" laughing as he dodged Pokomon's swinging tail. In the process though, he rolled into a small ditch in the floor and had to be helped out by Calumon. Having no limbs had certain disadvantages.

"I guess the real question now is, why have we all just started to remember this? And why did it never come to us when we were with our tamers?" Lopmon added.

Their argument continued on, well into the afternoon, until Kapurimon suddenly interrupted one of Yaamon's rants with, "Wait! Now that I'm thinking about it, if Gigimon was created by Takato and the Digi-Gnomes, how could he possibly remember that room? His entire life has been spent in his rookie form or higher until recently."

The speculations flew, and the argument went on. The sun began to wane, drifting towards the horizon.

~*~

In west Shinjuku, one world and several months from the argument under the setting digital sun, trouble brewed in the minds and lives of the lonely tamers.

Takato walked at a brisk pace towards his destination. It was a cold day in an increasingly cold season, and Takato had once again failed to recognize before he left the bakery that cold weather required warmer clothing. His mind was busy with other matters though, his thoughts drifted along all too familiar but still unfriendly pathways. Thoughts of Guilmon and the digimon, Jenrya, Ruki, and the other tamers.

And about the place he was going to. He quickened his pace, pulling the collar of his shirt up higher and ducking his head into it slightly to blunt the biting wind. Though the summer was only just ending, the cold had come unexpectedly and quite early. It rarely got this cold, even for the abnormally cold fall, and on a day like this a frost or snowflake falling from the sky wouldn't surprise him. With a shiver and a start he realized that he had arrived at her door.

She had missed school that day, and Takato had only been told by her father that she refused to answer the phone. This had worried him, because he was the closest person to Juri that he knew. Her father simply couldn't talk to her sensitively, and was still sure that the only way to get through a problem was to get through it yourself. Though, Takato thought, he couldn't really still believe that. Not after how he attacked the D-Reaper armed only with a stolen truck and his own locked away tears. Takato supposed that if he really believed in that he wouldn't let Takato over when she was in trouble anyway.

Juri's house, adjoined to her family restaurant was rather large-not comparing with the luxury of Ruki's mansion, but still leaving one with plenty of space to roam, and to find solitude. Though, Takato thought grimly, solitude wasn't hard to find these days. He entered the main yard of the residence and knocked on the main door. Juri's father answered, and admitted him with his usual controlled serious face. But Takato saw something more in his eyes, a deep concern for his daughter, a worry that he kept tightly in check. But the feelings were there. Takato wondered if Juri saw them, or if she was so blinded by the past that she couldn't feel them. He wondered how much of the assault on the D-Reaper she remembered anyway; whenever he, or anybody for that matter, tried to bring it up she simply clamped down on her teeth and stopped talking for a while. Takato hoped she remembered how her father offered to be taken in place of her, so that she might be saved. Something like that shouldn't go unremembered.

She sat alone in an empty room, staring at the opposite wall. She was pale, quiet, and visibly shaken. Something had happened. Takato rushed over to her and held her in his arms as she began to weep. Unfortunately many visits had started up this way for the two of them. In school she put on the same face that he did, the one of normalcy and recovery. Here though, with Takato, she showed how hurt she truly was. Dreams were the worst for Juri, she was constantly plagued by nightmares involving Leomon and Beezlemon. She also sometimes mentioned when she spilled out the contents of her battered psyche some, "voice behind me," but every time he tried to get more out of her about it he was shot down. She would clam up and curl up like she had during the D-Reaper incident. He had begun to just let her vent, and simply try to help her with what she presented him. It seemed the best way to comfort her. If she wanted to tell him more she would, in time.

Takato didn't know if he should be reassured that she let him this close to her, or worried that he was the only one she revealed this to. Of course, Takato never spoke of his own grief, his own pain. Juri had enough on her plate.

She began to rant almost incoherently about two Beezlemons fighting and Leomon. This was a newer version of an older reoccurring dream. She had told him it many times, in many ways. Though one thing struck him as odd. The voice that she sometimes spoke of was actually mentioned several times in the telling. He had never heard her speak of it so much, and it hadn't come up in this context before. She also went deeper into detail, saying it sounded almost just like her. Takato was worried at this. The D-Reaper had used her voice as it's own until it's very end, when Juggernaut sucked their foe into the digital world in it's most simple, basic form, and doomed the tamers and their digimon to their current fate.

He tried to coax more information out of her. Stupid move, she only cried harder, and became impossible to understand. Something about that voice had disturbed her, deeply and dramatically. She might have begun to remember more from that time. Takato hoped that would be a step in the right direction instead of one more source of nightmares.

She cried quietly into his chest, calming down after a while. He rocked her back and forth, whispering reassurances and trying to sooth and quiet her as best he could. She needed rest, real rest from all this. She hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep since Leomon had been killed, and it was taking it's toll.

He continued to comfort her until she drifted into an exhausted sleep, in his arms. It was as close to real rest as she had come in a long time.

~*~

Takato waited for a while, rocking her sleeping form in his arms until he was sure she was asleep deeply enough to be moved. He picked her sleeping form up in both arms and took her out of the room. He carried her past her father, and though his stolid face revealed little to anybody, Takato was sure he could see appreciation in his eyes. The scene reminded him all to much of his saving Juri from the D-Reaper. Though, when he had last carried her like this, it was a momet of triumph instead of despair. Takato wondered as he carried her to her room where Juri's stepmother was. The resteraunt was closed today, so she couldn't be tending to customers. He gently placed her in her own bed, recently made, and made sure she was comfortable.

She whimpered in her sleep, and mumbled something that Takato couldn't make out. A little stuffed lion lay next to her, and she unconsciously reached out and held it to herself tightly. Watching her, guilt came over Takato again, and he wished he could do more for her. She opened herself up to him the most, but still she kept things from him. He couldn't help her more unless she decided to trust him completely. He had pulled her out of the core of the D-Reaper itself, and she still didn't trust him enough to tell him everything. Though, he thought, you rarely will meet the person you bare your soul to this early in life.

Though they had to mature much faster, and much more dramatically than most kids their own age, they whole group was still only ten and eleven. Shuichon, Ai and Makato were even younger. But how many adults had seen friends die before their very eyes, or had ensured the existence of the very human race? How many adults had to deal with being an international hero and still feel like this? How many adults had to watch their friends live in pain, bend backwards from expectations and slip away right before them and not be able to do anything about it?

He could tell that his friends were all effected by it as well. Hirokazu and Kenta were probably the ones that had gotten off the easiest. Though that wasn't saying much. They had been with their digimon for the shortest time out of all nine tamers, excluding Alice because Takato still wasn't sure where she stood, and had spent most of their time with them arguing with each other and being their normal selves. They had changed by their digimon, Hirokazu becoming more responsible and Kenta standing up for himself more often, but not as dramatically as the others had. Ruki, Ryo, Jenrya and himself had fought the last fight with their digimon, in the most intimate sense. Hirokazu and Kenta couldn't relate to their trial and their difficulty. They experienced pain from their loss, but not as badly as some of the others had.

The one he knew the least about was Alice, she had come and gone from their lives in a flash, as had the life of the one who seemed to be her digimon, Dobermon, as he sacrificed his life to allow the digimon to bio-merge in the real world. He didn't know who she was, her family name, where she lived or how she was handling her loss. She was the shadow of the tamers, lingering in the dark corners of their memory. Guilt and gratitude came and went with her memory and that of her digimon, who she seemed as close to as any of the rest of the tamers.

Whenever he called Ryo's house to check up on him, his father always sounded angry and said that Ryo was out again and he didn't know when he was coming back, so call back.

Jenrya might be the worst off. Takato could see Jenrya's pain every day, though he hid it well. Hiding had become one of Jen's strong points, hiding from others and perhaps hiding from himself. During the early days of being tamers, and even after Jen's pacifist philosophy had passed he was a quiet guy. He was nowhere near as outrageous as Hirokazu, or as odd as Juri or Shuichon. Still, he participated and contributed much to their ragtag group of conflicting personalities and odd digimon. He had a calm, peaceful aura about him when he was with the group and his digimon, Terriermon. He often broke up the fights and was the mediator of the group. Takato had forgotten how many bombs Jenrya had diffused, or how many times he had stopped Ruki from taking a shot at him.

Ruki.

A name that had often popped into his mind when he least expected it. That girl that he saw at first as only a brash, competitive, calloused Ice Queen. But as they worked and fought together he began to see something deeper, the real Ruki that she had obviously tried so desperately to hide away. A side she had probably thought of as weak and vulnerable when they had first met. A courageous, polite, caring girl that he would have easily become friends with if she had only shown it when they had first met. In hindsight though, he believed that when they had first met she might have convinced herself the person she had shown during their final battles against the D-Reaper didn't even exist. Even she seemed surprised when she found out she could be kind.

He often wondered how she was doing. He almost never saw her any more. She and the rest of the group had just seemed to slip away from each other. A passing glance in public was all most afforded each other these days. Hirokazu, Kenta, Jenrya, Juri and Takato all socialized to an extent with each other, after all, they went to the same school. But they still were separated in spirit. Ruki didn't have even that though, she went to her own all-girls school on the other side of town. He occasionally spotted her in the park, but that was about it.

He hadn't spoken to her, or even really seen her close up in months. Though he had taken her for granted during their time together, he found himself missing her at odd times. For some reason though, he found picking up the phone and calling almost impossible. Every time he picked up the phone he put it back down or called somebody else. Something kept him from contacting her. There was nothing but his own odd fear that kept him from getting together with her.

Juri whimpered in her sleep. Takato realized that he had been watching Juri sleep for quite some time. It was pretty late in the afternoon. Disturbed by the condition of his friends, his life and worried about Juri, Takato left the Katou residence and began the walk home.

~*~

The digimon fought and argued until the sun began to set. The discrepancy of Gigimon's memory was the main topic. Nobody really knew enough about the situation to really gauge the oddity. Yaamon thought that it was only a stupid digimon talking himself into believing that he remembered the room. "Probably just to belong, or something like that," he had said. Gummymon thought that they might just be remembering something from their adventure in the real world. That theory was quickly debunked, because they had all begun to remember it, and Chocomon hadn't been there for most of it. Even though he was the subject of the conversation, Gigimon was to bored and confused to really pay all that close attention. He began staring off into the sunset.

"Wait, maybe it's like what you were talking about Pokomon," Gummymon suggested.

"How do you mean?" Pokomon asked.

"Well, like you said, we must have some basic instincts in this form. Creatures in the real world are born with something similar. But we aren't from the real world. We must have some set of preprogramming, like a computer or program. We are made up out of data after all," Gummymon summarized, looking rather smug for figuring something of importance out.

"But why has the memory only just now started to surface?" Chocomon wondered

"In the real world, instinct kicks in when it's needed for the survival of it's bearer," Gummymon supplied, "so for whatever reason, we need these memories. But how to use them is still up in the air."

Gigimon continued to stare into the distance, at some point he couldn't quite pinpoint but somehow knew where it was. A bright light pierced his eyes from the horizon and even though it hurt, he couldn't look away. Suddenly some previously unnoticed pressure in the back of his head released, like a balloon suddenly deflating. Gigimon's mind rapidly and inadvertently relaxed. A soothing voice rung in his head and he began to feel himself drifting away, far away from his body.

Meanwhile, as his mind had released it's hold, his body had tensed up. He began shaking and the other digimon finally took notice of his lack of attention. But as they looked into his eyes a frightening sight met them.

His wide eyes had glazed over and turned black. Binary code flashed white across his eyes like they were mere computer monitors. As the digimon shook him violently, trying to return him to his senses, he collapsed. His mind was ripped back into its usual seat of power inside his body. He blinked the strange film from his eyes and looked around. Confused at what had happened, he passed out dead away onto the ground.

~*~

"That's it," Ruki pronounced to nobody but herself, "I can't take this any more!" Boredom had begun to take it's toll on her, worse than before she had met Renamon. The days of playing nothing but card games were bad enough, and now she couldn't even bring herself to even play that. Her last ones had been gathering dust in a drawer for quite a while, nothing compared to what she and her friends had experienced.

Friends.

That word that she had scoffed at for the better part of her life. For the longest time she had only viewed them as a hindrance to progress. She had avoided intimacy with even her family. Finally she had made friends and she had just stopped talking to them. The worst was with Takato. She thought about trying to get back with their makeshift leader and his friends. Something always kept getting in the way. School, family outings, functions, the infrequent but still horrible modeling sessions, the list went on.

Poor excuses.

She didn't really know why she didn't do it. All she knew right now was that lounging around the house was going to drive her insane. Her hair neatly pulled neatly behind her head, she shrugged her coat on and walked out the main door. With no clear destination in mind, she strode out the main gate and down the street.

~*~

Across town, two robed fighters practiced their martial arts. Recently the student had begun to really challenge the master. Though today, the student was slightly off. Locked in fierce combat, the student jumped and threw a fierce kick towards the teacher. His movements were for once sloppy, and looked amateur. The teacher easily locked up his ankle in mid air and spun him, smacking him face down into the mat.

Standing over the coughing student, the teacher asked his student, "What is wrong with you today Jenrya? You are becoming predictable. I know you are better than this! Think your techniques through before you attack, and never project your moves as obviously as you were just now."

"Yes Sensei, I will try harder," Jenrya responded dutifully.

"Go on the defensive now. You must see how to predict my moves before you can stop me from predicting yours," Sensei said, and Jenrya changed his stance accordingly. Blow after blow was deflected by Jenrya, this was one of his favorite training exercises. A few hits got through, only taps really, but they served to determine Jen. He began to get back into his groove. For the first time in a while, Jenrya's mind cleared of all that had happened since the Digimon arrived in the real world. This was the one place he found peace. Slowly, he began to see an order and a rhythm to his Sensei's attacks. A definite pattern began to emerge in Jenrya's mind. As if it were actually happening, he saw that there would be an opening in the next set of attacks. As the Sensei threw an awkwardly angled punch to Jenrya's left kidney, Jen dodged the only way he could, right into it. The arc of the punch was deceptive, aiming for the chin instead of the side, and this would overextend his teacher's arm. As a look of surprise spread across Sensei's face, Jen swung his right leg past his teacher, kicked him in the back of his right knee, buckling it and dropping Sensei to his knees. Grabbing the teacher's upper right arm with his left, Jen pulled him further off balance and tapped the back of Sensei's head with his right elbow.

For the first time Jenrya had bested his teacher in combat.

Sensei hopped up and brushed himself off. "That was excellent Jenrya. Now you try to go on the offensive, and see how you fare against my techniques," Sensei challenged, a good natured smirk on his face. Jen bowed to his master and began his assault. He flew at his master, hoping to catch him off guard - no luck. Lee's first string of attacks was stopped with the simplest of motions from his master. Though Jen's height and physical limits were slowly diminishing in comparison to Sensei's, he had far less experience than his teacher. Soon it got to the point where Jen could only get one attack off at a time; Sensei was countering every first move that Jen made. If Jen threw a kick, Sensei threw his foot to one side and Jen's back was vulnerable. If he tried an uppercut, Sensei dodged and pulled up Lee's elbow, making his side and abs vulnerable. No matter what he did, Jen couldn't get through Sensei's defenses.

Sensei began to really show off now. More and more elaborate techniques he used to defend himself, then suddenly using a basic grapple to stop one of Jen's most complicated attacks. The older man was just a little embarrassed, being defeated so quickly by a boy of such age. No-He must stop thinking of Jenrya as a boy. He had advanced past what most of his students had ever hoped to accomplish, and was even beginning to pose as a challenge to the teacher. He had risked his life to save billions, and all he had gotten as thanks was to have his partner taken away from him. And because of his own father...That must have been the worst for Jen. He had never been the same since the D-Reaper Incident. Though he had excelled in all school subjects and his martial arts-which Sensei could testify-he hadn't been the same kind-hearted boy that he had once trained.

Putting his concentration back into the fight, Sensei felt the tide of the battle subtly shift in his favor. Jen was getting frustrated, and was no longer thinking about his moves. As move after move was blocked or reversed, Sensei tapped Jen on the part of the body where he would have gotten hit from, had Sensei been trying to hurt him. Each tap built pressure inside Jen-in a small area that had previously gone unnoticed, like a little water tank. It kept filling, slowly but surely, and now was reaching critical mass.

Finally, Sensei stopped Jen's incoming fist simply by grasping it. Surprised at this move, Jen punched with his other hand, only to have that caught too. With a confidant smile, Sensei looked Jen straight in the eye as he kicked both feet into Jen's belly, and leaning back threw him against the wall.

Jen's limp body fell down onto the floor. Sensei was worried that he had possibly hurt the boy a little too badly. Then Jen propped himself up on one arm. Pulling his near-spent body up, Jen felt something finally snap inside him. When he looked up, the form of his concerned teacher was replaced by that of his smirking father. A strange calm overtook Jen, and he got back into his stance.

"Are you sure you want to go on Jen? You don't look so good," Sensei suggested. The look on Jenrya's face concerned him more than his physical condition though. It was something he had never seen before-like hate and cold fury had been frozen into a mask, a mask which Jenrya now wore. It was the face of a monster.

What Jen heard was, "What, can't you keep up little boy? What would Terriermon think?"

Jen faced off with his father, and began his assault again. His first kick was blocked, but barely. His father seemed to be moving in slow motion. He realized that he was tensing the muscles of the limb he used to attack beforehand, so he decided to throw his father off. He tensed the muscles in his right leg, and then punched with his left fist. Reaching to block what he thought would be a kick, he suddenly saw the fist flying at his face. His quick reflexes were all that saved him from a bad case of whiplash.

Jen's vision blurred red. He was like an enraged bull, but his subconscious memories of his years of training guiding his blind rage.

Attack after attack Lee threw his Father's way. Each was blocked slower than the last, or at least it seemed so in Lee's current state of mind. Finally one hit-the heal of Lee's foot found it's way into his Father's stomach. As his Father reeled from the blow, Lee took advantage of his injured state; he attacked again.

Barely able to defend himself, Lee's father's face suddenly turned crimson. As blood gushed from the nose broken by Jen's open fist, Father's face melted into Sensei's, and Lee felt ashamed. He realized that if that open fisted punch had been a few degrees lower he would have shattered his Sensei's nose and sent the bone shards into his brain, killing him.

Dumbstruck he stared, as his teacher struggled to compose himself. Finally he managed to utter, "What is wrong with you today Jen? First you cannot fight, then you seem to outdo yourself more than ever before. Then you become like a possessed man, insane without control of his mind and body. That isn't what I taught you Jen, you were taught to control your emotions and use them to guide your judgments, not let them control you!"

"Sensei..." Jen trailed off. He felt his face go red and a wetness in his eye. No, not here. Not in front of Sensei, I've already put him through enough, he thought as he said, "I'm so sorry Sensei," he clasped his hands and bowed his head, "but I have to go, I cannot stay here any longer!"

He rushed out the door. After that episode, the teacher first doubted the student. There was something wrong with the boy...no...man that was effecting him in more than just his casual fights.

Though, thought Sensei as he bandaged his face, that battle was hardly casual.

~*~

Taking the long way home, Takato found himself in the park. Not really wanting to go home, or to go anywhere else for that matter, he wandered aimlessly down the many paths and trails that lead throughout the surprisingly large landscape. Walking down a random path, looking at the bricks and the dirt as he passed them, he felt a sudden aura. He looked up. Not surprisingly he found himself once again down the stairs from the place that Guilmon had once called home. He had often found himself accidentally, or unconsciously wandering down these paths to this spot. It had become sort of a ritual. He once again thought of the promise he had made his partner, that they would play again soon. He didn't know if he could keep that promise any more. He bad begun to almost lose hope, and that was the worst guilt for him.

Down across the park, meandering through the trees and hedges of the park, Ruki wandered, the fall breeze blowing through the trees. She paused, taking in her surroundings. The leaves rustled rhythmically with the wind, and a few cherry blossoms floated about her. On another day Ruki would consider it Beautiful. Since she had been with Renamon, she had found she acquired an appreciation for natural beauty. Though her mother's ideas of beauty still often confused or sickened Ruki. She wondered if Renamon slept in any of these trees when she wasn't at her home. Or maybe during their brief separation. Another cold wind, stronger than the last chilled her. She hugged her coat tighter around her slim body, and walked on. The wind increased in intensity, and she ducked her head and began to jog on, hoping to hit a path. She knew this place so well after their adventures and debacles that she found more pleasure in walking through the less visited areas of the park.

Suddenly the wind died down. She sighed in relief and looked around.

He was there. In that place.

She gazed at the back of Takato's standing form. He was a little taller, but she definitely recognized that goggle-head. From the slight hill she was on, she could see that he was staring up at Guilmon's old home. She wondered what he was doing there. Suddenly, the wind got back from it's break and started to blow violently again. Takato hugged himself and rubbed his arms. His bare arms.

"What is that idiot doing out here without a coat?" she mumbled to herself. She wanted to walk forward and give him her own coat, but something stopped her. What was wrong with her? Did she want to see him or not? Thoughts crashed around in her head as she noticed another person running towards Takato. A man, was running down the path in the distance, seeming to be choosing random paths. He was dressed in a martial arts uniform...in fact one that she had seen before. Lee had worn that same outfit a few times when he was with his Sensei. In fact, this man even had black hair, and as the light caught it she almost thought it was blue.

Ruki gasped as she realized that the man she had been looking at was actually Lee himself. She would recognize that hair and that serious face anywhere. He sure had changed since they had lest spoken. Seeing his lean well muscled arms amazed her...she didn't see how somebody could make so drastic a change. Though, she thought with a sardonic smile, he isn't the only one who's made some changes since the D-Reaper.

The two met and seemed to have a quick conversation. Lee looked up at Guilmon's house and shrugged. Lee said something to Takato, who suddenly jumped and ran off. Jenrya walked on, a little more composed. Walking along with his hands behind his back and head bowed, he seemed to become lost in his own thoughts.

She finally walked forward past the tree line and caught his eye. Snapped out of his reverie, he walked over.

"Hey Ruki, been a long time," he timidly extended his hand.

She took it and asked, "Yeah, how long has it been exactly?"

"At least a few months. We weren't out of our first semester when we met, now we're in the third. It's been almost a year since we first started..." he trailed off, thinking about Terriermon again.

"You've changed. You must really be working hard with your martial arts to get the way you are now," Ruki said.

"You've changed yourself," Lee pointed out.

"I suppose you're right about that," Ruki said blushing. "It's nice seeing you again, I started to miss you guys. It gets unbearable boring without all you guys around," she offered.

Lee seemed about to say something, but instead he smiled. "What?" Ruki asked.

"Nothing...I guess...I just remembered you in a more competitive light than you are now," Lee responded.

"Well don't let you head get swelled, I just meant it got boring without all you knuckle heads around to pound on," Ruki overcompensated, looking indignant and blushing even more.

"There's the girl I knew," he said in a lighter tone than usual. It was rare when he could relax so much around one of his friends, he usually was cold and a little distant. He acknowledged it. "I understand what you meant Ruki. What are you doing these days?" he asked.

"Not much outside of school and card tournaments. Nobody can beat me! It gets so frustrating, I wish Ryo was in town so I could have a real challenge," she gripped, "how about you?"

"School and martial arts, that's about it for me too," he replied. Suddenly an alarm in Ruki's bag went off.

"Dammit, mother wants me home for dinner tonight, I forgot. She's usually just out dating this time of the week anyway..." she trailed off realizing that she had started to talk about something a little too personal for casual conversation.

Lee gave her a look of understanding, and said, "I understand Ruki, we all have our responsibilities, to our self and to our families. See you later hopefully."

"Thanks Lee," she said as she ran off. Lee couldn't help but admire her figure as she ran off. She was developing into quite the young woman. Quite a far cry from the aggressive stick bug he had known months ago.

He clasped his hands behind his back and wondered as he began his walk home, why didn't she come forward when Takato was here? Why had she just stayed in the trees? Normal people wouldn't have spotted her, but he had been trained to be observant...not just from his Sensei but from his parents as well.

Parents.

He didn't know how he would look at them when he went back to the apartment. After the episode today, he didn't know if he could look at his father the same way ever again.