Fandom: Digimon Adventure ZeroTwo/Digimon Frontier
Summary: There were three stories. Each of them started and ended in the same place. /an odd sort of crossover between seasons/
Characters (main): Digitamamon, Michael, Mimi Tachikawa, Ken Ichijouji, Miyako Inoue, Kouichi Kimura, Angemon (S4)
Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon or the characters depicted within unless otherwise stated. Written for digimon_100 for the pairing Miyako/Kouichi.This is purely non-profit.
Word Count: 1727
Warnings: an odd sort of crossing over between seasons, inspired by some story I can't remember the author of. And the ending is going to bug a lot of people.
Extra Notes: cross-posted to fanfiction. And not sure what's wrong with the dividers. Can't get anything in for some reason.
‘I still fail to see why my restaurant needs a guard,’ Digitamamon grumbled, looking almost forlornly around the half empty tables as two tall digimon had a whispered conversation outside his doors. He had no intention of listening into them; the white one looked rather ferocious, and while the black one was rather kind, he had witnessed what had happened to the last ‘mon to make an enemy out of him, and he was for from crossing that line.
Restaurant on the Crossroad
Restaurant on the Crossroad
He preferred his egg-shell in tact, thank you very much.
Soon enough, the pair finished their conversation and the black one was waving the white away and joining the proprietor in the kitchen.
‘Just keep out of the way,’ Digitamamon grumbled, heading back to the main room and hoping more customers would arrive. ‘You lot are making my business go down the drain.’
Funnily enough, he never saw them inside his restaurant…except when Tapirmon was cleaning up, and that seemed to only because they were friends with his one ‘mon staff.
Lowemon silently slipped out the back door after farewelling his brother, and it was Kouichi the human who walked in and took a table. There were a few occupancies; there was a group of eight in a corner: four humans and four digimon. Another foursome – two and two – were on the other end. Both sets he recognised by site, and then there was someone he was far more familiar with, and immediately joined.
‘Hello Angemon,’ he said warmly.
‘Hello Kouichi,’ was the gravely response, though the angel was undeniably pleased to see an old familiar face – although friend was perhaps stretching it a little. In truth, any digimon they met – including most of the ones they defeated and purified – were friends to the Legendary Warriors. But there was a sense of graveness as well, and no doubt the Champion was well aware of the reason behind his presence. Just as he was aware of the lack of visitors, save those who had once been Digidestined, to the Digital Plane. ‘What brings you here?’
Kouichi smiled a little. ‘That’s a bit of a long story,’ he said. ‘Though I wouldn’t mind starting it over Digitamamon’s Chinese buns.’
‘Not the tomato soup?’ Angemon asked with some amusement.
Both of them remembered the disaster the ten children had managed to create in Steel Town. No-one was owning up to who was responsible, and since everyone had been in and out of the kitchen at some point or other, it was impossible to know. Still, it had put them all off the idea of tomato soup.
And Kouichi grimaced at the memory. ‘No thanks,’ he said, noting the ill-concealed grin.
But despite the light banter, their eyes and ears were sharp. Listening. Waiting.
Yolei sighed, waving off an offer for a drink from Michael. Really, she thought, he should remember she wasn’t yet of the legal age. Mimi did; she was whispering something into his ear with a frown on his face, and Michael responded with a sheepish little laugh.
‘You look older than you are,’ he said by explanation. ‘It’s easy to forget.’
A few years ago, it was a compliment, but now it was Kari on the receiving end of them, looking younger than her years. They both heard it often enough, and it was exasperating.
‘Sorry,’ Michael said, reading her expression.
She waved a hand. It was unimportant.
Ken pushed the large plate of Chinese buns to Wormmon, who nudged it along to her with his multiple appendages.
Yolei burst out laughing. ‘That was cruel,’ she scolded her boyfriend.
‘Wormmon wanted to give you a bun,’ Ken replied, face perfectly innocent.
‘Its good manners to accept,’ Hawkmon cautioned, from Yolei’s other side.
And looking into the worm’s doe eyes, Yolei couldn’t help but do so.
A moment of silence passed as they all ate, slightly uncomfortable from the lack of people. There seemed to be only Digidestined; two of the Siberian Digidestined were enjoying a bowl of warm soup with their usually airborne partners, and a boy who seemed too familiar with the Angemon who guarded Steel Town to not have shared an adventure with him. Funnily enough, they didn’t see a partner digimon, but that didn’t mean a whole lot.
Digitamamon was not pleased. Something was coming. He knew that, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. It was driving his business away. It was putting himself on edge, and making him more snappish as a result. It was affecting his cooking as well; though the Digidestined were his only human customers now, the Digimon were well enough outspoken by themselves. And Digimon, especially rookie digimon, were known for nothing if not eating.
He didn’t like it. Something was coming. Something big. Something that could destroy him. Something the likes of which he’d never faced before.
It was hard to imagine something worse than VenomMyotismon, but it evidently was. Something that made digimon not belonging to humans hide in their houses, pushing themselves through their work and forcing themselves to go about their daily lives. It didn’t matter that gardens were losing their vibrancy. It didn’t matter that food was losing its taste, because there was something bigger on the horizon.
Truth be told, he was relieved the Digidestined seemed to be always around. But it also put him further on edge. Why at his restaurant?
Because something was coming. And it was coming to them.
‘How are the children?’ Kouichi asked, once they had both eaten a little in silence after his little story. He’d been in the digital world for a few hours already, helping Oryxmon in the Rose Morning Star with something only Cherubimon really seemed to understand the significance of. Not that he was complaining; the things he’d learnt in the meantime seemed quite useful. Just not in cleaning.
‘They’re frightened,’ Angemon replied honestly. ‘All of them hiding underground with the Trailmon.’
‘Yes. It seems to feel safer there.’ The Champion smiled wryly. ‘And Cherubimon’s castle in the Continent of Darkness, but have you ever tried convincing twenty in-training Digimon they’ll be safe in the Heart of Darkness?”
It was quite ironic, but Kouichi was the warrior of Darkness after all, and so it was less ironic for him, if more gratifying as a result. ‘No,’ he answered with a slight smile. ‘But I can imagine.’
‘Indeed.’ It was heartwarming to see the humour in impending doom. ‘And yet they probably understand the least of what’s coming.’
‘Maybe they understand more than we do,’ Kouichi replied.
‘That it’s safer to run?’ Angemon was surprised; it was the last thing he expected a Digidestined to say.
But Kouichi shook his head. ‘That it’s not hopeless,’ he explained.
‘Though how can we fight something we can’t yet see?’
They both looked towards the door, as if something would answer.
And something did. A distant flash in the sky, creeping slowly closer.
‘I wonder what’s going on,’ Michael finally said, after the silence stretched too far for even the smallest comfort. ‘Something about the Digital World’s just been feeling…off, lately.’
‘Everyone’s scared,’ Mimi said offhand, halving a bun with Palmon. ‘The humans, but moreso the digimon. The ones who’ve recently gone to our world are staying there because it feels safer.’
‘I wonder,’ Ken said thoughtfully, ‘if they can somehow sense that they can’t fight what’s coming.’
The four digimon looked at their humans. ‘We can fight it,’ Betamon said confidently, but he wasn’t nearly as confident as he sounded. ‘I hope,’ he amended, after the sceptical look he received from his human partner.
‘We can,’ Wormmon insisted, seeing Ken’s face.
The Digidestined of Kindness forced a smile on his face. ‘Yeah,’ he agreed.
‘Can’t be as bad as VenomMyotismon,’ Yolei chipped in, before nudging her thoughtful boyfriend in the side. ‘What’s with you?’
‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘But it feels like I know what’s coming.’
The rest of them looked bemused, and a little worried.
Until they heard the first crack of thunder.
It was when the rain started pattering through the leaky roof that Digitamamon threw down his ladle and poked his head through the backdoor. The potatoes were stacked up neatly, just as they had been since before Devimon’s time. The only difference was, they were getting soaked with – black rain?
Tapirmon shuddered and ran back indoors, apparently through to the dining hall since his blabber was accompanied with other explanations and he soon found the Digidestined crowding his backyard.
Since they were also helping him ship the potatoes inside, he didn’t mind all too much – until a yell from the front called them over to the lake.
He forlornly began picking at the potatoes, before finding them turning black and abandoning them. It wasn’t rot either, as his own shell shuddered in response to the rain.
There was no-one else around; all were either indoors or out front, so there was no-one to see the normally stoic egg flee for cover.
They had collected outside. The angel and the human, unrelated but still friends. The two Indian Digidestined and their partner Digimon. The couples from America and Japan. All of them getting soaked by the odd rain. All of them feeling the hopelessness that came with it. All of them familiar enough with the feeling to fight it.
And all of them staring at the twisting shape that was forming in the lake, the shadow that coiled and thrashed underwater. Wormmon’s mandible was as close to his paws as he could make it, his numerous appendages curled beneath him. Palmon’s ivy fingers were shorter than she had ever seen them. Betamon’s spikes were hard, as were Hawkmon’s feathers, both standing on end.
Angemon had spread his wings, staff ready and waiting in his hands. Kouichi’s hand had gone into his pocket, where the familiar weight of his D-tector sat. He too was waiting. Waiting for the creature in the depths to burst out.
And when it did, they flurried into motion. Digivices came out of pockets. Digimon evolved. Attacks were fired.
The dragon-shape – for it did not seem to be completely a dragon – twisted in the air and avoided them all.
The war they had been awaiting had arrived, and now it was time for the Digidestined to make sure they saw the end.