Right, same old notes as everyone else, I don't own Digimon. Never have, never will. Now that that's over…

Fire of the Soul

Part I: The Entrance Antiphon

Lift up your head, O Forgotten Gate, and see

Behold, the Dark Prince makes his entrance

Upon a troubled world, of men, not demons,

That long ignored their presence.

Men, not demons, or perchance many a demon,

That walks in a guise of man, awaiting

The Dark One who comes, to extinguish the Light,

Found in those who hold their humanity sacred.

Too many hidden ones, a doomed world, a dying world,

That you open your doors unto, Great Portal.

Await the downfall you foresee, for time heals not

The long-standing venom of Hatred.

Hold you but Darkness and gloom? Can not

Your aperture open with a Holier fire?

"One alone shall come through, leader of the Light,

Fire of the Soul, to this dying world.

Long will be his labor, many the pain he'll bear.

Through my heart of Darkness, a lance of Mercy

For the dying. And in dying, many an innocent will he spare."

So spoke the Door of Doom, that long had been forgotten.

Chapter I: Whispers of Accessibility

The sun was rising, golden rays gently cascading down upon a world he didn't recognize. From far above the surface, each ray of light unveiled some new, magnificent aspect of an altogether beautiful world. Immense forests of hardwood and evergreen trees stretched down from the slopes of hunchbacked mountain peaks and spread into the lowland regions below. Where the oak and fir ended, wide plains of waist-high grasses spread out like emerald seas. Throughout the land, usually tucked within valleys or nestled in shadowy clearings stood small villages, surrounded by copper fields of grain and hay. And here and there across the brilliant landscape, tall and proud upon solid foundations, stood great walled cities, thrusting their towers and battlements of stone high into the clear sky.

True, the land bore the scars of war nearly everywhere he looked. Within the shadows cast by the trees, swaths of charred and scorched stumps indicated that great fires had burned like funeral piers in the recent past. High upon the mountain passes, the snow was trampled by many footprints, and dyed red in places where soldiers had strove to hold, or to conquer the descent to the plains below. Partly hidden within the swaying grasses of the plains, discarded and damaged war-gear glinted in the sun. Many of the villages upon closer examination proved to be burned out shells, citadels around which battles had been waged. Even the strong cities bore witness to war. Their walls wore pock marks and gaps where besiegers had unleashed their fury. But terrible as these scars might be, they seemed to lend a quiet dignity to this still world. This world had seen much bloodshed, and remained strong, worth loving and fighting for.

Much like his own world. Much like the world he had been called to safeguard.

Deep within him, a little spark of feeling flickered to life; a strange sense of kinship with the world below his feet. Whatever transpired on that beautiful stage, whether tumultuous, climatic events of high valor, or prosaic day-to-day tasks of a young farm hand, each held a value, an importance that he instinctively sensed. Life here was a drama, to be gazed upon with bated breath, to be lived, with an enthusiasm born of the beautiful. This was a place that called out, and his heart couldn't help but answer.

But even as this gentle attraction tugged at the boundaries of his mind, he noticed something odd that, surprisingly, he had overlooked till now. The world below appeared deserted. Every detail in sight promised a wealth of life and movement, but as his eyes traversed the landscape, an unbroken stillness reigned. Not a single bird lilting from tree to bramble, no livestock grazing through the pastures, no men traveling the sylvan countryside. Wherever his eyes traversed, the land stood silent and still, as if every living creature lay hidden away from prying eyes.

"This can't be right…" There were far too many signs of habitation for the land to be completely uninhabited.

His eyes continued to probe the surface, searching for someone, anyone. Cities, towns, hamlets, his eyes swept the whole region, at first casually, then more and more franticly. For reasons he didn't understand, it was suddenly imperative for him to find the people.

"Where are they!? This is the Western Region, they should be here!"

The thoughtsinhisownhead made little sense to him; neither did his anxious search for the people of the land. This world was completely foreign to him. So who was he seeking so urgently for? And why did he expect to find "them" in the "Western Region?"

But even as he puzzled over his own confusing thoughts and unaccountable knowledge, images began to arise in the recesses of his mind. Faces, strangers to him, yet oddly familiar flashed before him, causing him to draw his breath sharply.

A strong, aged face of a mustachioed man, hair graying with the onset of age, but holding his shoulders straight and proud and unyielding.

A handsome, youthful face belonging to a blonde haired teenager, blue eyes twinkling with wit, but juxtaposed against a livid scar across his left cheek, which added a touch of sternness to his features.

An attractive, warm face of a smiling young woman with shoulder length saffron hair, whose light brown eyes spoke of easily stirred pity, tempered with hard-earned experience.

A grim, seared face of a young man in his late twenties, unrelenting gray eyes gleaming with responsibility and aggression.

Names flitted about the edges of his mind, tantalizingly close, but just out of his grasp. Something scolded him gently, calling him to task for forgetting who these people were. But why would he know their names? They weren't even…

Another face materialized in his mind, surprise interrupting his thoughts. "Hikari!?"

No, not his sister, but astoundingly close in appearance. The same petite, girlish figure, same cute oval face, same short, bobbed hairstyle. A near-perfect image of Hikari Yagami, but with slight differences. This girl's hair shone a deep blue-black as opposed to Hikari's soft brown. And her eyes burned with an intense sea blue color; his sister's eyes were a beautiful auburn tone. But from what he could see, the same heartfelt gentleness resided in both girls…

What was this feeling? His breath seemed to catch in his throat. These people… faces he'd never seen before, but he knew them somehow, deep within his soul. They were friends… and more than that. There was light in their eyes, whether the eyes were stern, or kind or sad. They were companions who needed him…

Amazement at such thoughts broke into his mind, shattering the images like a mirror dropped upon concrete. This was completely ridiculous. He'd never met these people, never dreamed they existed. For all he knew, they didn't exist, except in his mind, in his dreams. These thoughts were sheer foolishness. What was wrong with him?

Shaking his mind free from these strangely magnetic visualizations, he found himself gazing down upon a vast inland sea. He had wandered far in more than just his thoughts apparently.

He sought about for a reference point, something to connect the previous district with this fresh one. Far to the north, rising up in place of a conventional shoreline, stood the mountain range he had observed previously, whose snowy passes held the stains and wreckage of battle. From this distance, the immense trees that rose from the foot of the western slopes reminded him of light moss, or the lichen that thrived on the corroding stonework of abandoned shrines and monuments.

So, he had traveled south.

Even farther to the south, another mountain range overhung the waters, a larger, less forested counterpart of the mountain range to the north, but just as distant. The sea fit into a cavernous hollow set between the two titanic piles of stone, a massive valley that had been filled to its brim with water. And beneath his feet, at the very center of the inland sea, a dark island jutted forth from the sapphire waters.

"Dark" is a word seldom used to describe a land mass, but he could imagine no truer depiction. The island looked stained, as if long ago ink from a giant pen had been spilled across the surface, and over time been absorbed into the stuff the island was made of. The stain showed a midnight black close to the heart of the island, the epicenter of the spill, and gradually lost its depth and intensity close to the cliffs that formed the shoreline.

As his mind noted these details, analyzing and judging what they could signify, he discovered that he was beginning to descend.

Already, the towering mountains were fading into smudges on the horizon as his altitude rapidly decreased. It was still difficult to make out any details on the island's surface, but he could vaguely distinguish darker and lighter shades of black near the middle of the "spill," possibly forming some sort of design or pattern.

His eyes began to tear, tiring from the effort exerted peering into the inky obscurity of the surface. Several moments passed before any change became noticeable, then suddenly he was close enough to distinguish details.

The variation in shading came from contrast, the darkest shades caused by deep and shadowy roads and alleys, the relatively lighter shades caused by structures projecting high above the surface, towers and high walls dimly visible to his descending eyes. He was sinking into the midst of a city of stone ruins, laying cracked and broken, slowly decaying in abandonment.

No sooner had his mind grasped these details than darkness enveloped his world. The sun had abandoned him. Or to be more accurate, perhaps it was he that had left the sun behind. He had entered the ruins, a place of shadow separated from the day. The darkness within this corroding city reigned as heavily within the city as appearances suggested from without. The glorious rays of the sun held no sway here.

He should have been alarmed, tensed to expect an attack, preparing for conflict. He was the chosen of Courage, leader of the most powerful chosen of his world. Darkness personified the enemy, a threat to the forces of Light. His own life and the lives of those he loved were dedicated to safeguarding two worlds from its menace. Dear friends had died so that he and his team of chosen could beat it back, halt its encroachment over the Light. But as the darkness swirled about him, caressing his exposed skin, penetrating his deep brown eyes, he remained abnormally calm. The darkness held no threat for now, within its territory the darkness held itself in reserve... but soon…

He had been descending for some time.

"The ground must be close…" His eyes caught a change in his midnight surroundings. "There…" With an unsteady step, like an inexperienced man exiting a mall escalator, his feet touched down upon the worn stone of a wide thoroughfare. His sight had returned, having abjured its dependence on the sun. Now vision existed again, but not by the influence of light. Darkness had its own form of illumination here, blurred, misleading, tantalizing with the false promise of warmth, but sight-lending just the same.

His first impression of his surroundings had been the darkness, his second impression was less physical. The city was waiting. Somehow, he instinctively knew this to be true. There was expectation in the air, restless expectation, swirling about the streets and hollow buildings like a fitful autumn breeze.

"Something's coming."The recognition rose unbidden in his mind.

He gazed about the street in frustration. Too many obstructions curtailed his vision, deepening curls of shadow blew about the dark streets. This sight without sight, it revealed so little. But he needed to know where it would appear.

Hardly had his consciousness formed the silent query then the city itself provided an answer. His back stiffened suddenly as the feeling of expectation changed, focusing in a way that made him shiver. Gone was the impression of a swirling breeze. He sensed the expectation condensing, hardening. It brushed against him like needles, sharp and thorny, concentrating inward toward a fixed point. The center of the ruins.

He began to walk along the fractured stone avenue, taking the path that dissembled least from the focus point of this nonphysical energy. His motives were unclear even to himself. Possibly his own being had imbibed the expectation that ran so high through this place. It wasn't curiosity… he was waiting, too.

An immense granite building extended along the left side of his path, shielding his objective from view. From corner to corner, its exposed wall reached nearly 160 meters in length. His eyes traced a crack in the wall to the lofty roofline, but failed to unearth any form of decoration or embellishments. Far above, each corner stood crowned by a massive tower.

Identical walls, bare of decoration but portraying past strength and grandeur, loomed wherever he looked, though they differed in size and level of corrosion. Time had reduced many structures to little more than piles of rubble, but even the disrepair failed to conceal that this city had once been a formidable center of power.

He rounded the corner, stepping through a wide archway which spanned the distance between the tower-crowned monolith and a crumbling, high-spired mausoleum. Before him lay a vast stone courtyard. Rubble from fallen stonework littered the ground about the perimeter, spreading inward towards the center. The fashion in which the stone had tumbled away from the building gave the appearance of fallen men, whose last efforts had gone into extending their arms, reaching out towards… the fountain.

The fountain. It sat lower than the surrounding courtyard, at the bottom of a sort of bowl hollowed out of the stone. Water no longer cascaded from its midst; even the stone carving it once emanated from had shattered, leaving a jagged stump. But these things hardly mattered.

It was the water that caught the eye. If the stone of the city was the blackness of midnight, then the water of this fountain was the void of eternity. Such dark water…

His feet seemed to be moving on their own. He staggered, nearly falling down a flight of tall stone steps that he hadn't noticed before. Reaching the bottom, his feet began propelling him across the courtyard. The fountain… he had to reach it… His hands outstretched, found the stone sill. Its touch was icy cold.

"I'm coming!" The words tore out of his throat in a ragged whisper, the first he'd spoken since entering this world.

He reached down, into the black water… To touch… And faded away…

Sunlight.

Taichi sensed it's presence, even before his deep brown eyes flickered open. Soft dawn light streamed through the window by the foot of his bed. The island had vanished, dispelled by the coming of the day. He had been dreaming.

But it had been so real. Every aspect stood out plainly in his mind. Flying across a motionless world… Peering through the midnight avenues of a ruined city… His palms still felt the icy cold of the fountain sill… And the faces, intangible images only, even in the dream, but no less vivid now that he had awaken.

The iridescent red numbers on his bedside clock read 6:00AM.

"That was so weird."

Taichi abruptly pulled aside his bedding and swung his long, muscled legs off the mattress. He rarely ever remember dreams upon awakening, and the few exceptions were always vague, disoriented flashes, without a clear sequence of events.

This was just… bizarre…

Despite the early hour, the natural laziness born of summer and a three hour time gap until he was expected at work, he had no desire to go back to sleep. The darkness had felt so close,so tangible... He had faded…

"Not going to think about that just now." Taichi vigorously shook his head to clear his mind, which only caused his hair to settle across his eyes like a fluffy sheepdog.

He batted his hair out of his way with an impatient gesture. It had been a dream for crying out loud! A nighttime phantom like that shouldn't affect him this much!

But the darkness… it had been so real… and his palms still felt the icy touch…

Even within the golden fingers of dawn, thoughts of darkness forced themselves towards him. The thin shadows cast by the objects strewn across his room brought his mind back to the ruins of his dream. In the back of his mind, an uneasy impression began to crystallize. The way he felt now… almost made him think the darkness of the ruins had contaminated his being, coated his skin like an oil spill coats a shorefront…

A shower would be good.

With a quick, decisive movement that denied the sudden chill around his heart, he arose from the bed and stepped across the clutter that carpeted the floor, aiming for a pile of cloths near the door. Boxers, jeans, T-shirt…. Socks?

"Darn, no socks this time."

At least the laundry was clean. Every article of clothing not in this one pile could be classified as a pollutant. Hikari's words, not Taichi's. Taichi added gathering dirty laundry and depositing it in the laundry hamper to his mental to-do list. He'd find time later. Maybe. Right now, desire for a warm, soothing shower held dominance in his mind.

He slipped quietly from the confines of his room. Three quick steps down the hall brought him up short, all thoughts of the dream driven from his mind by a closer threat. Across the worn carpet stood a rival. Hikari Yagami, Taichi's little sister, was just closing the door of her own room, carrying in her arms an assortment of clothing, cosmetics and a hairbrush.

Both siblings took in the appearance of their counterpart, judging their current position, mentally gauging their chances of success. Taichi, feeling a sudden glow of confidence, let loose an evil, predatory smile. This time he held the advantage.

Hikari's eyes widened in sudden desperation. She too could read the signs. But Taichi knew the child of Light possessed too much of his own stubbornness to give up without a fight.

Without a word, both parities lunged down the hall towards each other.

He had a three step lead, and his athletic legs made short work of the distance to the bathroom, a full five steps before his sister.

Hikari let loose a wail of anger and defeat as the door slammed in her face. "Dang it Taichi! I have to get in there! Takeru's going to be here in an hour and I have to get ready!"

Gleeful laugher radiated from under the door, the only response from the conqueror within.

Taichi leaned against the porcelain sink, nearly doubled over from his own hilarity. Hikari was such a great little sister… and tougher than she looked. He would do well to watch his back for the next day or so. Little sis had learned much about playful revenge in the last few years.

With a contented sigh he shifted his weight, straightening up from his stooped stance, resting his hands upon the porcelain sink.

It was icy cold…

Taichi recoiled as from a poisonous snake. It was the same touch. The same icy touch as the fountain sill, the sill that overshadowed an inky pool. And right after the touch and the pool had come fading…

"No!" With a wrenching pull, Taichi brought his mind back from the ruined courtyard. The dream was finished, there would be no returning.

Taichi's train of thought broke off suddenly, severed by a new and disturbing idea. Without a logical reason, he was treating the world from his dream as a real place, an existence separate from his own mind. Deep inside of him dwelt the conviction that he hadn't been dreaming at all.

Taichi reached into the shower and turned on the hot water. Too many questions, it was more than he could handle at the moment. He needed time, time to put aside these disturbing notions and unaccountable convictions and think things through logically. But not now. Later.

Slowly, carefully, Taichi stepped beneath the steaming spray and let his body and mind relax. "Ummmmmmm, hot water."

The cold touch of stone, or porcelain, finally began to fade from his palms, a gift from the gloriously hot cascade falling from the showerhead. The caress of the water slowly began to loosen whatever hold the dream had over him. He allowed himself a relieved sigh, which slowly expanded to include contentment.

Taichi decided poor Hikari would be in for a very long wait.

In the end, Mrs. Yagami had to be called upon to eject her son from the bathroom before all the hot water for the apartment complex was used up. Hikari had already finished breakfast by this point, and now sat seething at the kitchen table, imagining all sorts of horrible tortures Taichi would suffer in the near future.

The shower had done wonders. Taichi's confidence had returned, along with the majority of his usual lightheartedness. His earlier victory over the younger Yagami had yet been celebrated, at least not within her view. It was time to remind her.

Taichi regally entered the kitchen, head erect, chest out, the perfect image of a champion returning to his kingdom after a glorious fight. His manner spoke volumes. Obviously, here stood a victor; where then, stood the vanquished?

The insult was only compounded by his complete disregard of Hikari's vicious death-stare.

"So, you're finally done abusing the hot water, eh?" Mr. Yagami's muffled voice emanated from behind his customary newspaper.

Susumu Yagami's presence had been completely missed by his showboating son.

Taichi slouched into a hard-backed wooden chair and scooted up to the kitchen table. "I wouldn't use the term 'abusing,' Dad. 'Appreciating' would be a better description."

Susumu grinned quietly as he folded his newspaper and stretched. "Alright sport, if you put it that way, I guess its fine." With elaborate and exaggerated care, he checked his wrist watch and grimaced. "I've got to be at the office early today, meetings and such." An exaggerated sigh. "The life of a corporate employee. Tell your mother I might be late for dinner tonight. The meetings."

Taichi grinned as his father rose from his chair.

"Meetings? Or is mom making something that involves broccoli for dinner?"

Mr. Yagami reached out and batted his son's messy hair in a friendly manner.

"Maybe…" The father answered his son's grin with one that was nearly identical. "I'll see you tonight, Taichi."

Taichi began searching the kitchen for food as Mr. Yagami gave his still pouting daughter a quick hug and left the apartment. Cereal… some sort of homemade cucumber bread… a leftover egg stew… more cereal… mushroom pancakes… lots of broccoli… and more cereal.

"Isn't there anything edible in this house besides cereal?!"

Hikari chose this moment to remind her brother that she was still alive, and still royally ticked. "I'm surprised you're even hungry. I thought that all that hot water you wasted would slow your metabolism to a standstill. But I forgot, my darling big brother has all the eating qualities of a mine shaft."

"Hikari, such bitterness. I never thought the word "darling" could hold so much venom." Taichi's voice simply oozed false sincerity. Well, he and Mimi never had that much in common anyway…

Hikari snorted in derision. "Mom made egg salad last night, she still had leftover eggs after the egg stew…"

"…But one of us will dump it and pick up real eggs salad at the store." Taichi finished for her with a beaming smile.

"Shhhhh! Taichi, She'll hear you!"

Taichi's lopsided grin only grew wider.

Hikari shook her head in mock disapproval. Inside, she was attempting to slay a sudden upsurge of laughter. Taichi always had that effect on her. She just couldn't stay peeved at him for long. This morning was no exception. That wouldn't prevent her from obtaining glorious revenge later, but for now she would stand down. Besides, Takeru would be arriving soon, and she still wasn't prepared yet.

"If Takeru shows up while I'm getting ready, please promise not to scare him off. This isn't a date we're going on, so the overprotective big brother act isn't appropriate."

Taichi feigned a look of intense contemplation. "Hmmmmm, kill him… or kill him not…"

"Taichi!" Hikari slapped him playfully on the arm.

"Ouch! Alright, he can live this time! Sheesh, little sisters turn fifteen and think they can assault their caring, loving, innocent older brothers."

"Innocent?" Hikari's left eyebrow nearly lifted off her head. "You?"

"Don't give me that." Taichi let his face form the perfect pout. While his sister was helpless with laughter, Taichi reflected on something that had been troubling him for some time now. His little sister and the young Takaishi were closer than most dating couples, but as Hikari had just admitted, Takeru hadn't shown the slightest sign of asking her out. Normally, a hesitation to ask the younger Yagami out found its origin at Taichi's feet. It was common knowledge that the leader of the Odaiba digidestined possessed an overprotective streak bordering on the psychotic. But in this instance, Taichi held himself blameless. Sure, like most young men interested in Hikari, Takeru still feared Taichi like the Bubonic plague. But hidden beneath the death-glares and ominous, half-hidden threats, Taichi had done his best to encourage the young blonde. Takeru was different then the other young men who hovered about Hikari, attracted to her gentle beauty like moths to flame; Takeru had a history Taichi could respect. He was an original digidestined, the holder of the crest of Hope. During the first digital war, Takeru had been charged with protecting Hikari in Taichi's absence. Hope risked everything to defend Light from the darkness; and despite Takeru's relatively young age at the time, Taichi had been confident his sister would be safe with the young boy. No other man could claim to have proven himself so well.

But the boy obviously wasn't getting the hint.

"Hikari, why hasn't Takeru asked you out yet?"

The amusement left her face quickly, replaced by a slightly hurt dejection. Hikari hadn't been expecting the conversation to suddenly take on a serious direction.

Taichi growled to himself quietly. "Takeru…"

"I don't know, Taichi. We've practically been dating for a whole year now, but… I don't know. I wish he would."

Taichi sat back and reflected. The youngster needed a talking to; the subtle prodding apparently had no effect on oblivious youths. Either himself or Yamato would have to take care of the situation; a nice little… scratch that… a very heavy kick in the pants.

He'd have to get on that right away. But first, something to help his baby sister.

"Hikari, you've know Takeru since the two of you were eight, and anyone would have to be blind not to see how close you two have become. I'm not the type to speak for someone else," There it was again, the raised eyebrows, even when he was trying to be serious. "but I'm sure he's planning to ask you. He's probably waiting for a really special moment." She still looked unconvinced, but a slight sparkle in her auburn eyes indicated that she wanted him to continue. She wanted reassurance. "Special moments don't come everyday, Hikari. Just give him a little more time. He wouldn't stick to you so closely and take such good care of you if what I'm saying wasn't true."

His words had the right effect. The dismal look cleared away from Hikari's face like mist retreating from bright sunlight. In its place appeared a hopeful, almost wistful expression. Yep, Taichi reflected, Takeru still had a chance. His spirit held an important place in her heart. But for how long would it last? Hopeful young love could be easily killed by disappointment, or by a loss of confidence in the beloved.

For now though, the situation was under control. Hikari flashed her brother a grateful smile before exiting the kitchen, her brother's words still resonating through her head.

The older Yagami confused those who didn't know him well. The lazy, annoying, impulsive, dense soccerhead could, in an instant, transform into the determined, levelheaded, perceptive leader that had led a team of kids to save two worlds, always ready with the right word or action to make a situation better. Almost schizophrenic really.

But wonderful to have in a brother.

"Thank you, Taichi."

Back in the kitchen, Taichi heard the bathroom door close softly and the muffled hissing of the showerhead begin as he finally concluded that yes, cereal was the only edible food in the house. "Thank god for coffee." That was at least one thing his mom couldn't contaminate. He hoped.

Taichi reached over the counter to fill his mug.

Maybe he'd stop at a restaurant on his way to that dank, gloomy dungeon filled with disgruntled troll, otherwise know as Kurita Insurance Agency. Why he'd taken an internship at that godforsaken pit was beyond him. The Foreign Service was his career of choice, not insurance sales. But at the time the pay had looked good, and the office was close to home.

Well, he was stuck with it for now. Taichi absently swirled the coffee about the bottom of his mug before gulping the aromatic liquid.

"Egg salad." He shuddered.

Never had walking home from work granted such joy as it did today. Not only was he emancipated from that dim office/prison that sucked up eight hours of his day, but the longer summer days granted longer daylight hours for his enjoyment. Daylight. The word had a magical ring to it. All day, while he typed up transcripts and minutes, ran errands from floor to floor, or simply brewed coffee for the higher-ups, he'd been longing for it. Being stuck in the gloomy office, surrounded by jaded, unhappy career salesmen and accountants had been a torment. He'd sworn that the shadows throughout the building were the same as those in his dream.

Outside, striding down the solid concrete sidewalks bathed in the glow of solar rays, darkness of any type seemed far away.

Light was such an amazing phenomena. It provided sight to the world, bestowed energy upon living creatures and gently warmed whatever it touched. Even beyond such physical blessing, light played an almost spiritual role within life's course. Whatever light caressed took on a brilliance and dignity that no object could hold without it. A rock was more than just a rock under sunlight, it was a solid, integral, connected part of a solid, integral, connected world. The light provided evidence that things were real, that they in fact did exist. Descartes, a French philosopher, had once started as a premise for existence, "I think, therefore I am." Descartes was wrong. It should have been, "I see, therefore everything is."

Darkness was an concealer, removing sight from the world. It hid the essential connections between people and objects, allowing the illusion of aloneness and unreality. Mistakes were made in the darkness. The familiar became the alien. Loneliness and isolation crept into hearts.

Even so, darkness was not evil in its own right. It was even essential. Life couldn't continue without periods of solitude, brief windows set aside for privacy and rest. But darkness had a history of overriding its bounds, attempting to usurp light's rightful place, forcing aside the bounds that held the world together.

That was why those who loved the light had the responsibility to stand guard over light's precious domain, why they were called forth to combat darkness when it overstepped its bounds. It was why he was a digidestined, why he fought so hard and so long against the darkness.

So that men and woman could walk down a concrete sidewalk and feel the sunlight caress their skin and raise their spirits.

God, he loved the light.

Would it really look too weird for an athletic young man in a wrinkled dress shirt and gold tie to skip?

Taichilaughedaloud at his own absurd thoughts, startling fellow pedestrians who eyed him warily and hurried out of his path. A wry smile pulled at his mouth. Since people already supposed him demented…

The unopened bud still lacked a day or so to reach full maturity, but already radiated a beautiful scarlet. A fitting color for as sharp a plant as a rose. A careless hand, clumsily clutching its emerald stem might easily display an identical color, punishment for not respecting the beautiful flower.

"Morbid thoughts…"

Sora Takanouchi sighed quietly to herself. It was no good allowing her problems to influence everything else about her life. Watching her mother's flower shop generally cheered her mood. People came here to pick out the perfect blossom for something special. A joyous occasion, a friend in need of encouragement and hope, a meaningful goodbye, a cherished partner in life. Flowers spoke a language, the language of Sora's own crest. They spoke love. They helped her remember… herself.

Now her mood was weighing down the flowers…

She gently added the rosebud to the arrangement arrayed upon the counter before her. Twelve roses, six the same deep scarlet, six a pure white. This bouquet was destined to enhance some unknown woman's day, courtesy of an awkward young man who stood fidgeting on the other side of the counter. Sora smiled to herself as she surreptitiously studied her client.

He had probably spent all afternoon preparing for this night. Every chestnut brown hair on his head was in place, his tan dress slacks were carefully ironed and pressed, the starched white dress shirt fit him perfectly, and his blue striped tie… well, at least it didn't clash with anything, even if blue wasn't really his color…

The bouquet was complete, beautifully wrapped in clear cellophane. With a smile, she handed over her artwork to the young man with unspoken hope in his eyes.

"Here you are, six white and six red. I hope she likes them." She couldn't suppress the impulsive wink that tugged at her bright red-brown eyes. Her customer blushed and incoherently muttered his thanks.

"No problem." Sora studied his face closely for a moment, causing his blush to intensify. "Don't worry so much. You'll do fine. Just relax."

A mute nod and a gulp were the sum total of his expressive reply.

Sora followed him to the door as he left the shop, gently clutching the roses in his arms. This was a man who wouldn't prick his finger on a rose. He might be clumsy, but never careless or disrespectful. Somewhere in this city resided a very fortunate woman. Sora gave a silent prayer for her, that she'd have the understanding to acknowledge her blessing, and appreciate it.

Sora's thoughts came to an abrupt end as a different, more familiar brown haired young man appeared around a street corner. He was dressed as a businessman, tan slacks, white dress shirt and gold tie. Even from a distance, she could see the twinkle of his mischievous, fun-loving eyes and the broad, almost demented grin that proclaimed his carefree attitude. And he was skipping.

A soft smile pulled at the corners of her lips. No matter how low she might feel, somehow her childhood friend always came up with a way to cheer her, whether he meant to or not. Without yet saying a single word, Taichi had already lifted her heart back to its proper place. She laughed aloud as he reached the steps of the shop and came to a bouncy, yet graceful halt.

Taichi's eyes flashed upwards at the sweet sound of her laughter. Standing in the doorway stood an angel, the sunlight glinting off her halo of neck-length reddish brown hair, matching the glow from her bright amber eyes. Taichi had known Sora Takanouchi almost as long as he could remember, and no closer friendship could ever be imagined. They'd shared unimaginable hours together, clambering about playground equipment as little tykes, joyfully celebrating soccer victories in middle school, battling evil digimon throughout their adventures in the digital world, and assisting each other through the trails and tribulations of higher education. No one, not even Koushirou or Yamato, or even Hikari knew him as well as the slim redhead at the top of the steps.

Taichi recognized the upwelling of feeling that surged through his consciousness and acted with a quickness born of longstanding habit. Mustering a tight control of his features, he allowed only a warm, familiar smile to crease his face+. Not the true, expressive smile that he must forcibly crush whenever it surfaced. That smile was anathema, off limits before the girl standing at the top of the stairs. She was far too perceptive not to understand what such a smile expressed.

Only Taichi's other best friend could extend such a smile to Sora. Yamato Ishida, the luckiest young man in the world. The two had been dating for near three years now, and Taichi knew that no couple could be happier together.

For almost four years now, Taichi had stood by and watched, spending as much precious time with both as he could. He was happy for both of them, but still, his heart ached to smile, just once. His smile had to remain covered, he would never be her love. But he found consolation in knowing he would always be her support, their support, the one to always brighten their day. That would have to be enough for him.

Looking at her beautiful face now he noted that she was smiling, but he could tell instinctively that this hadn't been the case not long ago. He would have frowned at this realization had she not been looking directly into his face. He would have to look into this, once he'd sounded her out a little. For now he stowed the knowledge away in his mind and grinned as she addressed him, her nose turned up in mock distaste. "Skipping Taichi? It really isn't dignified. Especially for a businessman as well dressed as yourself."

"Well dressed, hell, dress cloths are the devil. Anything that restricts athletic activities should be burned."

Sora laughed at Taichi's amusing antics. "Athletics? Like skipping?"

"Of course, great exercise for the lower body, and it builds endurance like magic. Want to try?" Taichi shot her a cheeky grin.

Much to Sora's surprise, the invitation actually appeared attractive for a brief moment before her good sense kicked in. Maybe she was picking up whatever madness Taichi had been born with. Instead, she shook her head and beckoned him into the store with a cheerful smile.

Taichi briefly pondered suggesting that they remain outside in the late afternoon sun, but relented. The shop's large bay windows admitted nearly as much illumination as the front steps, and Sora was still working, at least until the shop closed at eight. And according to his watch, it was currently six thirty. So he followed her beckoning smile, happy just to be in her presence.

The aromatic fragrance of a thousand blossoms pervaded his senses as he made his way to the back of the shop, past row after multi hued row on display. The scent had taken some time for Taichi to get used to; he had rarely entered the shop at all until Sora had begun working for her mother at the beginning of high school. But after spending a myriad of afternoons helping to close up the shop after work, Taichi had come to recognize that the scent held a soothing presence. He actually enjoyed assisting the Takanouchi 's. Sometimes he still stopped by when he knew Sora had time off. Even when she wasn't around, he could still feel her presence amid the flowers. In a way, he had come to associate them with his long time friend.

"What can I help with?"

Sora gestured toward a display of white carnations.

"I still have an order to fill for an engagement party. A dozen bouquets, all wrapped in pink gauze. The client is picking them up first thing tomorrow morning. If you give me a hand, I might get out of here by the time Mom stops in to close up shop. Besides," Here came a devilish smile that Taichi knew meant trouble. "I want to see if the practice you've had in the last few months has had any affect."

She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a giggle. "If only the guys knew…"

Taichi shot her a nervous glance. "Come on Sora. You promised you'd never tell anyone!"

"But the roses you arranged last time came out beautifully! You should be proud!"

Taichi only shook his head as he reached for a work apron. But inside, his heart was singing.

­­Toshiko Takanouchi softly let herself in the front door of the closed shop at five past eight, pausing a moment to finger several blossoms prominently arranged by the doorway. Sora had arranged them earlier in the day, displaying an artistic touch that sent a proud thrill through the older woman. Her daughter had advanced beautifully in the floral arts, much further than Mrs. Takanouchi had ever dreamed the once tomboyish girl could have done.

Muffled voices punctuated by cheery laughter resonated from the back of the shop, indicating that Sora had company after hours. A warm smile stole across her face; she was well acquainted with Taichi's customary presence, pleased even. Years of working the shop alone had taught her the value of company, especially company as lively and entertaining as Taichi Yagami. And beyond the welcome companionship, the young man was also a great help, speeding the evening cleanup that accompanied running a business.

Neither of the two young people noticed her standing close to the entrance, shielded from view by a myriad of leafy stems and colored blooms, and Toshiko chose not to interrupt their conversation. But her eyes twinkled as she listened to Taichi regale her daughter with ridiculously exaggerated, work related horror stories, and the happy laughter they elicited from the auburn haired girl.

"Taichi, you're such a baka! He can't be that bad! I mean, you said he's a public relations overseer! How could he have kept that job so long if he's really a demonic troll that collects shrunken heads?"

"It's because he's such a great actor! When you're first introduced, you'd think he was a perfectly nice, reasonable human being. But if you'd look carefully, he carries the gore from his last victim under his fingernails!"

"That's gross, Taichi!"

"I swear! Come and meet him. Shake his hand. You'll see it! I think he used to be an elementary school teacher, but they kicked him out for eating his pupils!"

Toshiko laughed to herself at the verbal sparing match; Taichi coming up with ridiculous scenarios, Sora attempting to rebut them, and Taichi defending his earlier words with even more farfetched illustrations.

"Seriously Taichi, if you hate working there so much, why don't you just quit?"

There was a slight pause before Taichi's voice responded, more seriously than before. "Well, for one thing it pays well. And it's close to home. Besides," The seriousness left his voice in favor of his usual, casual, laughing tone. "it's close to the flower shop. How else would I get better at arranging petunias?"

"Humph… I thought you were going to say you came here to see me."

"But Sora, petunias are important too!"

The sounds of playful scuffling broke out swiftly, carried on for several laughter filled seconds, and ended with a heavy thump and a groan from Taichi.

"Ouch… Alright! Alright! You're more important than petunias, I admit it!"

"Good." Sora's voice held more than a touch of smugness hidden under a serene tone.

"Those two." Mrs. Takanouchi took a step toward the counter. This would be an amusing time to reveal her presence. But before she cleared the intervening flowers, Taichi's voice took on a different tone, one that made her pause mid-stride.

"Sora, when I got here earlier I thought that maybe something had been bothering you." Taichi's voice paused, possibly waiting for sign of confirmation from Sora. But Sora remained silent, so he continued slowly. "And since I've been here, you've acted happy, but it's still bothering you. And you haven't mentioned Yamato once since I got here… What's up?"

Toshiko stood quietly for a brief moment before silently backtracking toward the door. Listening in on Taichi and Sora's friendly banter was one thing, but the conversation appeared to be veering into a more serious, private topic. As silently as she had entered, Mrs. Takenouchi slipped through the shop exit, stopping only to slide the door quietly shut. Outside on the steps, she watched the evening shadows drape themselves across the landscape. A cool evening breeze played gently with her dark brown hair as she reflected on the pair talking within the shop. Their conversation wasn't her business. If Sora wanted to talk to her mother, she would be there to listen. Besides, Toshiko had come to appreciate Taichi's inherent ability to sense anything off about Sora, and his equally uncanny ability to alleviate her troubles.

Such a perfect pair. A pity neither of the two had ever realized how suited they were to each other.

Taichi waited patiently in the silence that had followed his question, watching as suppressed circumspection replaced Sora's initial reaction of surprise. Neither of the two moved much, only Sora's slender, graceful fingers, as she absently massaged the stem of a faded blossom, newly removed from a pretty woven flower-wreath. Even Mrs. Takenouchi would have been hard pressed to translate that look passing across her daughters features. But through a unique mixture of experience and sheer desire to understand, Taichi found it within himself to decipher her thoughts.

Yes, something was wrong. Yes, she wanted him to help. And yes, Taichi winced interiorly, she was worried that asking for help would be imposing on her friend.

That was something he couldn't stand to see. As a leader, Taichi had often found himself in similar situations, forced to hide from his friends his own pain or indecision, all for the sake of allowing them a feeling of confidence or security. A leader couldn't show weakness, not with so many others counting on his decisions. The strain from continuously shielding one's inner insecurities and doubts could at times become close to unbearable. No one should go through that, should feel so alone, especially not his angel.

"Sora?" Still no response. "I know you don't like passing your troubles off on other people. It makes you feel like you're using them, but that's not true. I'll always be ready to help you out, that's what a friend is for. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. Just so you know I'm ready to listen when you're ready…"

His voice trailed off as he took a closer look at the girl standing across from him. Her bottom lip was beginning to tremble, distress slowly cracking her attempt at self-discipline. Without thinking, Taichi moved forward and wrapped his arms about her shoulders in a gentle hug, allowing himself release the warmth of his feelings. There was little else he could do, as her shoulders began to shake perceptively. She was weeping silently; he let her cry in his arms.

Slowly, bit by bit, he felt her pull herself back together, mastering her emotions until her sobs began to subside. Taichi waited, letting her gather her strength before smoothly disengaging his arms. "Sora, what happened with you and Yamato?" He kept his voice soft and quiet, not wanting to betray his own inner turmoil over having held her so close.

"Oh Taichi… I'm, it's really stupid of me, I shouldn't be so worked up about this. We both knew it would be this way when we first started dating, and it's been like this for a long time now, but sometimes it just gets so hard."

Well, her words didn't really answer his question directly, but he could tell where it was going. Still, he remained silent and let her continue.

"We spend so little time together, with me working here at the shop, and Yamato… With the band and everything, he's either at practice, or writing songs or on the road for concerts. We see each other only a few times a month it seems." Her lips were beginning to tremble again, but courageously she pulled her emotions together and continued. "I just don't understand. It's not supposed to be like this. We had such a good thing going, him and me. I thought it would get easier. But it hasn't. Since The Wolves got really popular, he's away even more than usual. I tried not being selfish, but it's hard. Even talking to him on the phone doesn't help anymore. Oh Taichi," she pressed her face into his chest, latching on to her long-time friend and comforter.

"Shhh, it's alright." He whispered softly to her, left hand holding her close, right hand gently stroking her beautiful, silken hair. Understanding and commiseration softened his eyes, adding to the natural tenderness of his words of comfort.

"You're not selfish Sora. Anyone who thought you were would have to be a moron. It's natural to want the people you love close, where you can feel them and cherish there presence." Taichi felt his own words burning his soul out as he spoke them. She was so close, so much a part of him just now. He could feel it. Oh god, it would be so easy. Everything he ever wanted. Just one sentence, spoken now, at this moment… He let the moment pass. "Sora, selfishness would be acting clingy, suffocating Yamato with possessiveness, keeping him from his own happiness so that you could have yours. You aren't like that. The fact that you've stuck with him, despite the time apart; that you sacrifice so much for him, that's real love Sora. It's who you are."

It hurt so bad, letting her go, unclasping her arms from his. Every fiber of his soul screamed for the moment to last forever, to step beyond the carefully kept rules of friendship that Taichi had stood by for so long. But he could stomach the pain. Yamato was a good man, one of Taichi's best friends. The blonde haired musician adored Sora, had proved his love more times than Taichi could count. No matter what, Taichi couldn't betray him like that. And neither could he take advantage of this precious moment with Sora, or her vulnerability.

Sora was quiet once again, thinking over his words, finding strength and truth in them. The slow, clear beginnings of a smile crept softly across her face. She leaned in, close to his face, and gently placed a kiss upon his cheek. "Thank you, Taichi."

Taichi felt his heart glow.

"Come on," he hadn't wanted to speak, but it was necessary to change the atmosphere, change the topic of conversation, anything, just to take away this easily exploitable moment before he lost his self-control, "let's go wait on the steps. Your mom should be here any minute, and everything is cleaned. We'll just lock up when she gets here, and I'll walk you home."

She nodded, the soft smile still tugging gently at his heart. They walked together toward the exit, Taichi holding open the door, letting her pass through its portal first…

…right into a blonde young man who'd just reached the top of the steps.

"Sora? Taichi?" There was a surprised note in Yamato's normally cool, fluid voice. Taichi and Sora halted in their tracks, equally surprised at finding the destined of Friendship on the front steps of the flower shop.

Taichi's pulse quickened immensely, the depth and intensity of his conflicting emotions still latched tightly to his heart. He had been very close… but he had done the right thing. Sora's reaction to her boyfriends appearance proved it. "Yamato! I didn't know you were back in town! Why didn't you call?" Her face was transfigured, bright and beautiful and happy. "Just as it should be," Taichi though to himself. It was time to go.

Neither of his two best friends noticed as he slipped away from the scene, quietly fading away in the gathering twilight, his ears burning at the tender sounds of greeting from the happy couple. Only Toshiko Takenouchi witnessed his departure, catching a glimpse of his face as he passed her parked car. She had always read his face well when he had been younger. Now with his back to his two best friends, and without knowledge of Toshiko's presence, he had no reason to hide; every aspect of his love and sadness and courage shone out in his expression.

The night would be a dark one, save the warm glow he felt when he thought of the happiness he'd helped her regain. "It will be enough."

The best aspect of takeout dinners was the relative lack of cleanup involved afterward. A casual flick of the wrist and the white cardboard carton landed neatly in the trash receptacle, quickly followed by a cheap pair of disposable chopsticks. Little effort involved, satisfaction for his once grumbling stomach, and best of all, it hadn't been cooked by his mother. Yes, Taichi decided, takeout was definitely the way to go.

Hikari and his parents had already retired to their rooms for the night, leaving the apartment silent save for the soft padding of his own bare feet on the kitchen tile. Work started earlier tomorrow than it had today; he had to be in the office at seven instead of nine. Which meant a six A.M. wakeup for the second day in a row, this time out of necessity, not dream induced. And the night was passing quickly. But still Taichi hesitated, reluctant to retreat to the comfort of his bed. He stepped to the empty sink to gaze through the glass pane upon the Odaiba skyline.

Outside the window the deep shades of night competed with the city lights in an uneven contest. The night settled over the world, an enormously thick, intense shadow, and the manmade illumination of electric and neon lights wavered fragilely, insignificant in comparison. When the final light switched off in his family's apartment, Taichi felt sure that the struggle would weigh even heavier in the darkness' favor.

Why did the light always stand endangered by the darkness, ever threatened by the encroaching shadows? Even in times of peace like these last four years, with the evil forces defeated and scattered, banished from the digital world and held at bay by the powers of light, Taichi still felt that light held only a tenuous advantage, symbolized aptly by the nightscape before his eyes.

Why did his heart feel heavy tonight, like a man traveling a much beloved hometown to bid farewell to loved ones?

The cell phone in his pocket startled him out of his thoughts with a quick, pulsing vibration. He had deactivated the ring tone earlier when his family had gone to bed. He fumbled about for a moment, trying to pull the device from his pocket, then glanced at the screen.

Yamato Ishida.

Taichi stared at the name in surprise, wondering why his friend would choose this time to call. He hadn't seemed in the mood for phone conversations when they'd seen each other a few hours ago. He'd hardly acknowledged Taichi's existence. He and Sora had probably talked…

The phone continued to vibrate, like a small hypothermic animal. "Well, you going to answer, Taichi?."

He crossed his fingers a second before thumbing the cell on.

"Hey Yamato, what's up?"

There was a slight pause on the other end before Yamato's low-keyed voice responded.

"Hi Taichi, I thought for a moment that you'd turned in already. Sorry if I woke you."

Was it just his imagination, or did the usually confident Yamato sound rather hesitant?

"Naw, just finished eating. What can I do for you?"

A quiet chuckle emanated from the line. "Eating, eh? Why am I not surprised?"

Taichi gave a snort of annoyance. So much for the supposed hesitancy. "If that's all you called for Ishida, I'll be hanging up now."

"Now hold on, I was just kidding."

Taichi grunted. "Right…"

"Look, I called to say thank you."

Taichi's brown eyes widened in confusion. This was definitely not expected.

"For what?"

"For talking to Sora, spending time with her." Taichi involuntarily blinked. Not a single response came to mind, so he kept quiet while his friend continued. "I stopped at her apartment ready for the first degree, I deserved it, blowing her off like that. But whatever you talked to her about… I don't know, I wasn't expecting her to be so, you know, understanding. And I was all ready to justify things, but her being like that, it helped me realize I was wrong. I don't know how things are going to go in the future, but I'm going to do better. Whatever we decide, we'll be honest with each other. I'm going to talk to my manager about adjusting my work schedule. And me and Sora, we're going to talk, a lot more. Just, thanks man, for being there, for both of us."

It still hurt. Sora was still Yamato's. But she would be happy, and Yamato would be happy. So he would be happy, too. Even still, here in the immaculately cleaned kitchen of the Yagami apartment, there was no reason for Taichi to hide the sadness. For a moment Taichi thought his voice would fail, but with a soul wrenching effort he spoke quietly into the receiver.

"It's alright Yamato. You two are my best friends in this world. I'm glad I could help." He forced a chuckle; it almost died somewhere between his stomach and tonsils, but somehow pulled through. "Mr. Chick-Magnet-Rock-Star-God can't solve a simple communication problem with his girlfriend. You're hopeless."

"Yeah well, that's what you're for, fearless leader."

Right, that's what he was best at.

"Alright man, I got to head to bed. Take care of yourself."

"You too, Taichi. We need to take a night off and hang out, just the two of us. It's been too long."

"Will do." A thought occurred to Taichi as he was about to hang up. "Oh, Yamato. One of us has to do something about that brother of yours. If he doesn't get a move on Hikari's going to give up on him. And I'm not joking. She was pretty down this morning, and I really hate seeing her like that."

Taichi could almost hear the wheels turning within the older brother's head.

"Right. I'll talk to him. We'll work something out."

Another problem solved. God, this was getting to be a reoccurring theme to his life.

"Thanks Yamato. Take care."

"Same to you, Taichi."

A pleasant sounding woman's voice spoke in his ear, indicating in lucid terms that the other party had disconnected. Taichi continued to stand staring out the window with the phone to his ear, musing over the feeling that swirled through his tired mind. He had done a good thing, even if it hurt. Taichi straightened his shoulders slowly, letting out the breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. It was time for bed.

Maybe it was just his imagination, but outside the darkness didn't seem quite so threatening. And the lights, maybe they weren't quite as fragile as he had thought. Or maybe what he had done added to their intensity.