Dragon and Tiger

Osamu was quiet for a long while before he finally cocked his head slightly. “I’ll think about it.” With that he turned back to his screen and resumed typing. “I need to test out the name for myself for a while before I decide if it’s worth having at all.”

Jin let out a chuckle as a wry grin appeared on his face. “That’s fair. It’s what an older brother is supposed to do, right? I should know.”

Osamu twitched as Jin reached out to give his hair an affectionate ruffle. He froze, uncertain, his hair even more wild than usual by the time the older man was done.

Jin laughed softly at the frazzled expression on the normally unflappable Digimon Kaiser’s face. “And maybe it’ll do you some good to have an older brother of your own for a change. We’re family now, after all.”

“You also get an older sister,” Akane said, flashing Osamu a wink. “And a younger sister, and three little niblings who would be happy to have a new uncle.”

For a moment more, Osamu remained motionless until his brain rebooted. He shook away the conflicting feelings from the affectionate gesture before turning his rigid back to Jin and Akane, or at least as much as he could without dislodging Ken from his lap, before ducking his head and focusing entirely on his screen. “I’ll think about it.”

“Oh, we got an entire list of fake relatives in the database,” Jin said as he tilted his head to the side. “Profiles, backstories, and everything. Sometimes we even retire them and have funerals for them, with all the pomp and circumstance you could ever want. Pick one that sounds best for you.”

Osamu nodded. “Good.” He turned back to the screen as he resumed typing, though still at a more subdued pace. “I’m not interested in letting anyone else be in charge of my life ever again. If you’re offering your resources and name and no other strings attached, then I’ll take it.”

“Now hold on,” Jin chuckled. “Everything has strings.”

Osamu paused, side-eying Jin with a sharp stare.

Jin held up his hands in a disarming fashion. “Whoa there, you can put away that glare. What I mean is that taking the name Ryuzaki means you’re family now, and family helps each other when it’s needed. It’s the same deal my sisters, pop, and I got when signing up for all the perks that come with the name.”

“Define ‘help,’” Osamu said while holding an edge to his voice.

“Don’t worry, you’ve already got a head start on that front,” Jin chuckled. His expression softened as his eyes turned towards the cuddle puddle, a warm smile tugging at his lips as he watched his baby sister sleep. “Being Ryuzaki means we’re family now,” he repeated, his voice going softer. “You helped bring back one of our family already after we thought we lost her for good. Making you family is the least we can do.”

Osamu looked over at Keiko, and a myriad of complex emotions passed across his face before he turned back to Jin with a stony expression. “But you’re still going to pull strings in the future.”

Jin shook his head as he let out a rueful chuckle. “Don’t worry, you’ll like this pull. We’ll probably call you in to help us with our talent sometimes. Specifically one particular talent. I think you might know him. His name is Ichijouji.”

Osamu’s mouth twisted with suspicion. “That’s all?”

“Don’t worry,” Akane chimed in. “The Ryuzaki know the importance of making sure children stay safe.”

Osamu abandoned all pretense that he was still even trying to get any typing done, hanging on the siblings’ every word.

Jin slapped his hand against his knee, the sound causing Osamu to flinch again and look his way. “It was probably the best thing we ever did for ourselves, becoming Ryuzaki,” he said, his voice strengthening with pride and a bright fire that burned in his eyes. “We wiped away the stink of the Makura name off our skin and even convinced dad to do it too. He died proving that he loved us while proudly wearing the name Ryuzaki in the end.”

Osamu hesitated in the silence that followed, until finally speaking up. “Are you trying to tell me that one of my parents will do the same?”

Jin snorted. “Oh hell no. Your parents are shit.”

A quiet snort of laughter escaped Osamu in spite of himself, but he was quick to school his expression.

Akane chuckled as well. “Yeah, from what I’ve heard, I don’t have much hope for those two. Our dad was absent and acted as warden when Mother wanted to punish us, but at least there were some moments when he tried to be our dad long before he finally stepped up. They were rare, and it took us a while to realize it, but they were there. He was just incredibly awkward.”

Jin couldn’t help but chuckle alongside his sister. “More like emotionally constipated.” He turned back to Osamu with a crooked grin and shrugged. “I’m just saying… maybe you can find stuff you never knew was worth saving from your old life while you’ve got a new name. How does being a Ryuzaki sound to you?”

Osamu stared at Jin, his eyes widening.

Jin shrugged again casually. “You don’t have to accept, but I thought that, I mean, there are worse last names out there, right? Just so long as you’re okay with all the ‘yakuza’ stuff, but something tells me that doesn’t bother you too much. Call it a hunch.”

“Alright.”

“See now before you argue, let me just…” Jin paused as Osamu’s instant agreement caught up with him in the middle of making the case he built up in his head. He stared at the young man, dumbfounded, who gazed back at him with an intense, unwavering stare that held no hesitation or uncertainty. “Uhhh… oh, okay then?”

Akane let out a loud, ungraceful snort, her cheeks puffing out to contain what would’ve been an even louder bark of laughter.

Osamu paused briefly, before his fingers started moving again, noticeably slower than before.

Jin let out a wry chuckle, though his voice held no humor to it. “You don’t fall into the yakuza because your life is sunshine and rainbows.” He sighed, a crooked smile creeping across his face that was almost wistful. “The two of us thought all we had was each other. Our bitch of a mom and the world made our lives hell. Even our dad fucked up by never being there until he had to.”

Another pregnant silence settled between them. Osamu barely moved his fingers across the keys.

Jin shook his head and let out another chuckle, this one without humor. “We wrote our dad off like everyone else, but that damn stubborn son of a bitch didn’t give up. He did everything he could to make it up for failing us so bad. Tried everything he could to apologize for fucking up so bad and prove to us that he really did love us despite never bothering to show us before.” He stared off into the distance, into memories long gone. “Bastard did it too, before the end. For a little while… the three of us were an actual family for once.”

Osamu tapped a fingernail against the keys without any force, though the ephemeral keyboard didn’t make a sound.

“Dad died trying to make us a family of four after we learned about Keiko,” Akane said in a soft, somber voice. Though she spoke quietly not to wake the children, her sudden inclusion in the conversation made both Jin and Osamu flinch before turning her way. They saw her head angled slightly in their direction, just enough to give them a glimpse of one of her bright red eyes peeking at them through errant strands of her black hair.

Akane slid her gaze back to Keiko and gently stroked the back of her little sister’s hand with her thumb. “That damn demon of a witch hid the fact that Keiko had even been born, so finding out was a shock. Jin and me… we lost our ever loving minds when we found out we had a baby sister we never knew…” She paused to give Keiko’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Mother dearest put us through hell… but at least we had each other.” Her voice softened further with a mixture of sorrow and regret. “Poor Keiko had no one but her.”

The memory tasted sour in Jin’s mouth, twisting his lips in distaste. He took another sip of his energy drink, but the sugar wasn’t sweet enough to cleanse his tongue. “The old man stepped up before we did. We didn’t even have time to think, and he was already gone.” He clenched his fist around the can, crinkling the metal. “We never found the body.”

Jin wasn’t sure if Akane had actually fallen asleep or, like him, was still fighting against the urge in order to make sure that Keiko was still there. Sometimes he thought that she had drifted off, only to see her open her eyes and give him a knowing look when he snuck over to check on his sisters, or he’d catch sight of her thumb rubbing across the back of Keiko’s hand.

The only other person Jin knew for sure was not asleep was Osamu, who was sitting on the floor beside Ken, typing away at an ephemeral screen in front of him. The sudden appearance of a computer screen made of light and data in the real world had been quite a shock to everyone, Chosen included. Osamu just waved away questions about how he pulled it off for now with a dry remark that it was far more convenient than borrowing a laptop from Jin and didn’t elaborate further.

A floating screen made of light also freed up Osamu’s lap so that his little brother could use it as a pillow, though he didn’t say that part out loud. Likewise, Dracomon didn’t declare his intention to act as a backrest for his partner, but Osamu still quietly accepted the invitation and leaned back comfortably against the little dragon.

The gentle smile Jin wore took on a playful bend to it as he regarded Osamu. “You don’t need to stay up and help me, you know,” he said softly, so as not to wake anyone. “You must be just as tired as everyone else. I’ve hacked government records for years. I’ve got this handled.”

“And pass up the opportunity to use your wealth of resources for my own nefarious purposes? Hell no,” Osamu said dryly without looking up. “Besides, we should make all the changes we want all at the same time, so that Keiko only has to use the Digital World’s security program to alter everyone’s cognitions once. We don’t know how long that orb is going to last, and we can’t afford to wait until Narakumon’s recovered.”

Jin made a noise of acknowledgement in his throat before returning to his own laptop. For a time, quiet settled between them, only broken up by the typing of his keys or another sip of his drink. Eventually though, he turned back to Osamu, his brow furrowed with concern. “I’m not going to say anything ridiculous like ‘maybe you should go back to your parents’ or some shit like that, but… are you certain you won’t regret creating an entirely new identity for yourself instead of trying to salvage your old one? You had a lot of reputation built up, and plenty of opportunities just waiting for you.”

Osamu tensed up and stopped typing. “The only thing worth salvaging from that farce of a life was Ken,” he said, his voice razor sharp. “Everything else can go in the trash, where it belongs. I can create new opportunities, entirely by myself.”

Jin sighed again as he set his drink down and got back to work. Under normal circumstances, it’d be pretty impossible to cover something like that up, at least not without creating an entirely new identity. Thankfully, Keiko could use the Digital World’s own security protocol to help smooth over the rough edges for 95% of the population.

It was just that 5% left to worry about. 

Honestly, it was challenging enough to mess with the records of a Japanese citizen without getting caught, but Ryo had dual citizenship, which ramped up the difficulty. He couldn’t have all of the boy’s documentation in Japan listing him as a seven year old while his American documentation showed him as fourteen.

Well, whatever. Jin had the resources and the time. A pile of paperwork tangled up in red tape and liberally sprinkled with several broken laws was pretty insignificant in comparison to everything Ryo had done for them, and for Keiko. He had energy drinks to spare, so what was one rough night compared to all the brighter days ahead that he and his family had returned to them?

The thought drew his gaze over his shoulder towards the middle of the playroom. Several futons were spread across the floor, pressed up against one another until they formed one giant bedspread. Originally the futons were more spread out to give everyone plenty of space during the spontaneously thrown sleepover, but somehow they all wound up mashed together, much like the sleeping children and Digimon.

Jin felt his heart swell at the sight of the cuddle puddle that centered around his baby sister.

Keiko was alive. She was alive. His baby sister who he had mourned for years, who had been murdered in another world while fighting to save both it and their world… she was alive.

When Jin really thought about how impossible it all was, he almost felt as if he was in a dream. Even if he didn’t have work to do, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He had to keep checking, keep looking over at Keiko to see her breathing. Sometimes he snuck over to touch her hand and feel her warmth, though he was careful not to disturb her or all her friends and family sleeping peacefully beside her.

Oikawa tossed his junior a smile before returning his attention back to their captive. He clicked his lighter several more times as he lost himself in thoughts that were almost drowned out by the creature. Finally, he straightened up and cocked his head slightly. “Which begs a lot of questions now, doesn’t it? And some pretty big questions in particular.”

The blonde junior furrowed his brow before he glanced at the doctors around them, who appeared to be regaining their courage as the creature’s tantrum seemed to be winding down. The gelatinous being flopped against the glass one final time before going still, heaving as if gasping for breath.

“Who - or what - the hell are you?” Oikawa asked. “And where the hell is Osamu Ichijouji?”

---

Jin pulled back the tab on his energy drink, which prompted a sharp hiss of carbonation as it escaped from its confinement. Everyone could usually tell what kind of night he expected to have based on his choice of energy source - coffee for a late night, and energy drinks for no night whatsoever. He’d be buzzing for hours and far past the morning, but everything would be done and dusted by the time he was ready to crash.

The tried and true friend of college students and overworked salarymen alike!

Jin took a long chug of his drink before he let out a deep sigh, then looked down at the laptop in front of him. The Digital World was a bundle of surprises that never ended, but it rarely seemed to take into account the damage it wrought on the human world.

Then again, the Digimon probably had no reason to worry about such things. From what Jin knew of the Digital World, things worked differently for them there. He doubted the Digimon had any concept of “a person’s place in society,” “societal expectations,” “social security numbers,” or why inconsistent identities might cause problems.

After all, they evolved all the time, sometimes becoming something entirely different, complete with a different name. When faced with something like that, how could anyone expect them to take something like “a consistent identity” seriously?

Unfortunately humanity was far less flexible when it came to identity, which led to the challenge looming over Jin now. People couldn’t simply disappear and reappear without causing serious scrutiny.

Oikawa said nothing for a moment as he stared down at the sludge creature, his expression neutral. Then, a small smile played on his lips before he leaned forward closer to the glass. “‘Chiyoko Yumeshima.’”

An unearthly cry suddenly erupted from the abomination, despite it having no visible mouth, the sound both screeching high and low and gravelly at the same time. It violently lunged forward, throwing itself against the glass without any concern for how its body splattered on impact. It lunged again and again, thrashing as it screamed with a voice that could never belong to a human being.

The doctors quickly drew back from the containment cell in a panic, one of them breaking into an outright run as they retreated to a safer distance. Oikawa remained firmly in place, allowing himself only a small flinch with every scream and thud of the thing against the glass. The detective’s smile widened as he stared down at the creature, watching it as it writhed and wailed.

“Tell me, Yamaki,” Oikawa said, after a moment. “How would Osamu Ichijouji, a child born a year after her disappearance, know the name ‘Chiyoko Yumeshima?’”

Yamaki had to take a moment to regain his composure. The sounds the creature made, the way it moved… Every instinct inside him screamed at just how wrong it was. Just seeing the thing lying motionless was unsettling enough, but seeing the way it moved, hearing it howl in what might have been agony or rage, it all made the animal part of his brain want to run. He barely held himself in check from retreating like the doctors. It was a shameful instinct to have for someone in his line of work, even if he understood that it was a perfectly natural reaction to something wholly unnatural.

After taking several deep breaths and forcing his spine to straighten, Yamaki managed to pry his eyes away from the thing attacking the hopefully shatterproof glass. It was a monumental effort for him to focus on his superior with the way the creature was lunging at them and wailing like a thing damned, but he made a valiant effort all the same. When his voice finally came out, it was as stiff and lifeless as whatever unfortunate corpse was used as a substitute for Osamu. “I… don’t know. Sir.”

“The answer is simple,” Oikawa said, with a definitive “click” from his lighter. “He wouldn’t.”

“What?” Yamaki sputtered. “But-”

“Which means that…,” Oikawa said as he pointed the lighter towards the sludge, “…is not Osamu Ichijouji.”

Instinctively, Yamaki followed Oikawa’s gestured lighter, which guided his gaze to stare at the amorphous blob before them.

The senior detective held his junior’s gaze as he pointed at their captive goop. “And finding out how to stop whatever did that from making any more victims, like this dying child and those paramedics whose only crime was trying to save said child. Nothing else is your problem.”

Yamaki’s expression grew solemn as he looked at ‘Osamu,’ or what was left of the boy. It still gave him chills, seeing what a human child had been reduced to by the Digital World - however it happened. The idea that it could happen to anyone, could be done to anyone, was a sobering thought and really drove in the point of the importance of their job.

“So!” Oikawa said with a bright smile on his face, walking right up to the glass containment cell without any concern. The doctors around him watched uneasily, though they didn’t dare try to dissuade him. “Guess who I saw the other day!”

The glob-like being didn’t respond, not that anyone expected it to.

“Ken Ichijouji!” Oikawa continued, as if he had actually gotten some form of acknowledgement. “You know, your precious brother that you risked your life for?”

Nothing - not even a twitch from the semi-liquid creature.

Oikawa made a small humming noise in his throat as he stared down at the sludge.

“Sir, you do this every time,” Yamaki said, furrowing his brow. “But he never responds. Not to Ken’s name, not to his parents, nothing. The doctors don’t think there’s anything left in him to even-”

“‘Ryo Akiyama,’” Oikawa said. “‘Keiko Makura.’”

Yamaki frowned, but kept his disapproval to himself. He had already voiced it once, there was no point in risking voicing it again when the stubborn detective was still his superior.

“‘Keiko Ryuzaki,’” Oikawa pressed, watching for even the slightest bit of recognition from their captive blob.

The detective may as well have been talking to nothing, with how little the creature reacted to the names being spoken.

“‘Hikari Yagami,’” Oikawa said. “‘Taichi Yagami.’”

Oops! Thanks for the reminder. The two of us have been a bit out of sorts this week, and the update got lost in the shuffle. Don't worry, it'll be posted in just a few minutes!

“You won’t believe what your parents have been up to since your ‘funeral,’” Oikawa drawled, twirling his lighter idly as he flicked it open and closed repeatedly. “They have this creepy little shrine, front and center in the hallway so you can’t even go to the bathroom without walking right by you. And it’s not a very flattering picture, either - a little grouchy and scowling. What better than the judgment of the dead when you wanna take a piss in the middle of the night, amiright? That sure as hell won’t give anyone a complex!”

“That reminds me,” Yamaki said. “I was meaning to ask you, sir.”

“Hm?” Oikawa glanced over his shoulder at Yamaki.

“The body, sir,” Yamaki said. “Who did the Ichijoujis bury, if it wasn’t Osamu? Where did it even come from?”

“Oh, that,” Oikawa said, breezily.

Yamaki’s expression nearly facefaulted at his superior’s reaction, given that they were talking about a cadaver. It was hardly a topic he expected anyone to be so nonchalant about. “Yes, that, sir.”

“Yamaki, dozens of people die every day, especially in a city the size of Tokyo,” Oikawa said, waving the lighter about in the air as he used it to gesture. “The city morgue always seems to have at least one Hanako or Taro Yamada lying around, with no family or friends to identify them. Or at the very least, no one who cared enough to identify them.”

Yamaki went perfectly quiet as his face turned a little green at the implication.

“And it’s not like anyone is going to randomly dig up the grave to do a DNA test after the funeral, you know?” Oikawa continued, chuckling despite the grim subject. “Especially when they have no reason to suspect anything.” Another chuckle escaped him. “Not that there’s much DNA to find from ashes after it was cremated.”

The junior detective grimaced, his lips pulling into a tight frown.

“And even if they did, so what?” Oikawa said, tilting his head as he smiled at his junior. “‘Whoops’, and all that. Looks like the morgue made a mistake, huh? Easy enough to do when the body’s unrecognizable due to the ‘wreck.’ The city’d owe, what, a couple thousand in apology money? And some token fall guy resigning, with all the deeply apologetic bows the family could ever want.”

“It would make the city look very incompetent,” Yamaki pointed out. “And lose some face in the eyes of the public.”

Further ahead, Oikawa noted a gathering of doctors just outside one of the other examination rooms, talking to his little junior partner. They seemed to be in earnest discussion, not that he assumed they had anything worthwhile to say beyond more theories and hypotheses.

After all, it had been years, so why would he expect anything from them now?

Among the huddled group, Yamaki noticed his senior first and immediately perked up. He turned to face Oikawa as the man approached before giving a small bow of his head in greeting. “Welcome back, sir. How did it go?”

“Oh, you know,” Oikawa said with an easygoing shrug as he gave a definitive snap with the top of the lighter. “As well as it could for a bunch of bean counters.”

Yamaki gave a small understanding nod before he glanced into the examination room, where another reinforced glass containment cell was set up. However, rather than containing a similarly brutalized vehicle, it held something far more abstract - horrifyingly so.

A massive mound of dark-colored goo was in the middle of the room. The vague hint of a figure was buried within the sludge, but only to the point that one could safely assume it had been human - or humanoid - at one time. It was as if this poor creature had lost the ability to maintain its form and had simply melted into its current state, though it thankfully hadn’t deteriorated further in the years it had first come into their custody.

Not that it did them any good, considering the utter lack of progress these pencil necks had been able to achieve. All the tests came back inconclusive, no matter how many times they ran them, often contradicting previous tests, even when they used the exact same samples. Even doing a DNA test was pointless, as the results’ only consistency would be how much data vomit it splattered across the paper.

What a lovely use of taxpayers’ money.

“There’s apparently been no change in Osamu since our last visit,” Yamaki said.

“Shock and surprise,” Oikawa said, dryly.

The assembled doctors shot the detective sour scowls, but didn’t dare do much more than that before they scuffled back to their stations. Oikawa didn’t seem to pay them any mind at all, though Yamaki offered them an apologetic look. It didn’t mean much when his senior was very clearly not sorry in the slightest, but it was something.

“Yo, Osamu!” Oikawa said with a one-finger salute against his brow. “Looking good! Been up to anything interesting?”

Noir gave a small nod. “[Okay.]” He moved to nuzzle his cheek against the blond’s leg as he began to glow gold. Within seconds, the golden light engulfed the both of them, right in front of the staring eyes of the adults who had been charged with taking care of the boy - and had failed utterly in doing just that.

With a flash, they were both gone.

---

Click, click. Click, click. Click, click.

Oikawa clicked his lighter open and closed with some smooth flick of his wrist, seemingly in tune with every step he took through the sterile gray and white hallway. It was a placebo at best, a poor substitution for actually smoking. However, even he didn’t dare smoke in a hospital, or a sterile laboratory environment.

Considering this place was both at the same time, it meant smoking was twice as forbidden.

As the detective ventured through the halls, he spared a quick glance over his shoulder into one of the large examination rooms as he passed by. It was a rather strange sight, to see a mangled ambulance trapped in a reinforced glass containment cell as if it were a living being instead of a hunk of wreckage. He couldn’t blame them for being cautious, however.

After all, the main notable feature about the ambulance wasn’t the condition itself, but the bizarre gray stain that coated the inside of the ambulance, spreading both out the back and into the driver’s seat.

It was the same “stain” that marred the bodies of the paramedics who had been occupying the ambulance at the time, trying to save the life of a child as he bled out from a car accident. Those very paramedics were in the same building, though in a different wing dedicated to tending to their needs.

Marked from head to toe in gray, the pair of rescue workers were comatose, unresponsive to everyone and everything as if they were functionally dead to the world. The room they were kept in was made to contain the most contagious and dangerous pathogens, with full hazmat protocol for the doctors and nurses caring for the patients. Without how little they understood this affliction or how it might spread, containment and safety were the top priorities.

“[Yeah, back it up, back it up, back it all up!]” Noir barked as he matched their retreating step by step, his paws on his hips. “[You all let Wallace suffer while his parents act like a pair of assholes who don’t have a damn kid at home waiting for them, without saying a damn thing, and now you wanna step in!? Hell no, hell no, hell no, you back the hell off!]”

Wallace was oblivious to the altercation, his emotions far too gone. He swiftly left the den, having destroyed everything in it, before racing down the hall to the next room that might contain anything of value to his parents.

Because it sure as hell wasn’t him.

Noir watched Wallace take off before following swiftly after the boy, acting as a bodyguard against anyone that intended to stop his partner. The carnage continued as Wallace rampaged through the entire mansion, destroying everything he came across in a feverish storm of violence and rage. With the Black Terriermon protecting him, no one dared get close as the young master smashed every likeness - every one of his parents’ treasures - until there was nothing left.

It took over an hour for hurricane Wallace to finally die down. He couldn’t, wouldn’t calm down until he blew through every room in the house, threw everything that was in reach at anything that wasn’t. The servants could only brace themselves until the storm finally gave way to an uneasy calm.

The chaos ended in the basement, where Wallace stood amidst the remains of what was once a projection screen. His body shuddered with each heavy breath, his face flushed with equal parts exertion and exhaustion.

There was nothing left for him to destroy, his energy was spent, but the rage refused to leave him, still festering in his heart like a wound turning septic.

It was during this lull that Noir was finally able to get close, reaching up to hug his partner’s leg tightly.

“[Noir.]”

The Black Terriermon stopped and glanced up to see Wallace staring at him. He flinched when he saw how empty the boy’s eyes were, devoid of any light. Even more troubling was the darkness that had taken its place, making Wallace’s eyes appear shadowed, going from blue skies to storm clouds.

Noir knew exactly what that meant.

The Black Terriermon was cut off by a sudden scream that erupted from Wallace, causing him to jerk back in shock. He could only stare as the boy drew his arm back before flinging his cellphone as hard as he could against the wall.

The screaming didn’t stop there, nor did the violence. Wallace raced forward to grab the side of the shelf directly across from him and yanked backward with all his might. It fell forward like a toppled tree, taking all its precious cargo with it. The sound of the crash and shattering glass echoed through the house like a lightning strike, drawing staff from all areas of the house.

Noir slipped into the room in an attempt to hide, only to stop and gawk as Wallace continued his rampage. Ripping framed pictures off the wall to smash them in half against his knee, grabbing display cases off their pedestals and spiking them like a football so they shattered on the ground, the boy was thorough. Even the curtains didn’t escape his wrath, as Wallace ripped them right off their rods before throwing them on the ground.

The Black Terriermon grimaced again. The conglomerate within him, unseen by everyone but him, was cheering with glee and satisfaction. Their words alternated between taunting Wallace and actively encouraging him, even pointing out bits of memorabilia he had missed.

The boy couldn’t hear any of it, but that wasn’t to say he couldn’t feel it thanks to their connection. None of them seemed to realize - or care - what all of this meant. What it was doing to Wallace.

As always, Noir was the only one that cared.

“[Stop this instant! What do you think you’re doing!?]” the butler barked as he rushed  into the room. The rest of the staff filled the hallway outside, but only he dared to enter into the fray. “[I said stop-!]” The elderly man yelped and ducked as a bust was sent flying his way, soaring through the hallway and shattering against the ground outside. The butler recovered and gave Wallace a furious stare, attempting to grab him. “[Young man, cease this ridiculous tantrum this instant!]”

Before the elderly man could lay a single finger on his charge, he was suddenly struck back by a blow to his stomach. He fell backwards with a yelp, landing roughly on the ground, and then froze as Noir got between him and Wallace, with an expression of absolute malice on his fuzzy face.

“[Back yer ass up, old man,]” the Black Terriermon said, his face looking far more menacing than it had any right to be. “[Before I give ya something to remember me by.]”