That sounded like the opposite of I’m ready to Hikari, whose only rival to her love of sleep was her own brother. She couldn’t even imagine an hour long nap.

And going to the digital world on only an hour’s sleep sounded more like a nightmare than a dream. Miyako was already quick to impulse and they didn’t really know what they would find. They were going to help damaged villages Koushiro had identified.

My muse has been in a fight (and not fared very well) - send ❣ for them to react to your muse offering to patch them up. (not accepting)

“Daisuke-kun!”

She was much more concerned about his well-being than her own. There was a gash across his forehead, and while she knew that head injuries always looked bad no matter how inconsequential they were, she couldn’t resist reaching out and touching it gently, as if she needed to reassure herself that he would be okay.

“When did that happen?” she demanded. She hadn’t noticed him get hit, or fall. But everything had happened so quickly, once they’d been engaged. She couldn’t remember most of the fight when she tried.

But he was faring better than she was. Sitting up made her woozy, and she wobbled and leaned into him when she tried to shift her weight forward and onto her knees. 

          he’d never worked with this one before, little blonde thing in the drivers seat; but if there was one thing his mother-in-law had taught him, it was not to underestimate women. darling was a force of nature, and he could only expect this one to be the same. femme fatales. 

          the shotgun between his legs, gripped by the handle was traced by gloved thumbs, green eyes peering over the brim of dark sunglasses at the bank across the way. they were waiting for their cue, that subtle gesture that waved the car forward and roman to bust out, guns blazing against the hoard of cops that were inevitable. a distraction to keep the others safe until they could load up into the back of the car. hopefully this one could get them away from the fray as effectively as baby. he’d caught her name -- well, codename -- by an off chance, only by hearing her spoken to back at the safehouse. angel. cute.

          the last nineteen years of the life had been spent like this, working jobs, taking what he could get: at first, it had been the vulnerability aspect, hostage situations -- he was young back then, a child, and nobody ever expected a child. as he’d grown, he became a more dominating force, able to take anyone down hand to hand and fast as hell on his feet. unfortunately, he couldn’t outrun a bullet. 

[x]

“Waiiit!”

Hikari tested a foot hold with her toe before resting her weight on the shifting rocks beneath her. Climbing back up would be a chore, she already knew, but Daisuke wanted to wave to the boat passing by.

She had borrowed Daisuke’s shirt against the chill of the setting sun. The rest of their belongings were some feet above them. This part of the beach was more rocks than beach, and there were few stragglers that had wandered as far as them. But to Daisuke and Hikari, these shores were like a second home. They had spent summers playing here for years.

It felt weird, she thought, to be old enough now to have been doing anything for  years. 

It took Hikari longer than usual to realize where she was.

The surroundings were wrong. The jacket covering her torso wasn’t familiar weight. She wasn’t in her room. She didn’t hear her brother’s voice. She felt the rumble of a truck underneath them, and Hikari wondered what time it was. In the darkness, she could just make out messy blond hair. Wallace’s hand fell from her shoulder now that she was awake. For a moment, she mistook him for Takeru, but Takeru was curled up with Patamon on the opposite of the truck and fast asleep.

Taichi was going to have a fit when he found out. Hitch-hiking. 

She reached for her phone in her pocket, then reconsidered. She would rather see that her brother and the others were okay. She couldn’t stand the idea of being the sort of person living her life waiting for a phone call.

“Thanks,” she whispered, so as not to wake the others. 

In her dream, the phone had kept on ringing and ringing. Voice mail never kicked in. Her brother never picked up. And when she called out for him, no one answered, as if he had never existed at all.

It’ll be alright now, she told herself. There was no reason to think that their friends and her brother wouldn’t be at home, waiting for them when they got back to Japan. After all, Chocomon’s affect on them had worn off immediately.

Still, she needed to see it. Not hear it. See it. She needed to see that everyone was alright. That they had done enough. That they had been in time.

She sighed. She wanted to go home.

17: Goofy Kiss

They...won?

It took a moment for that thought to sink in. Minutes ago, she had felt so terrified--more terrified than she had been in her entire life. Her knees were still shaking from that terror. There had been a moment, brief and dark and hopeless, that she had thought that terror would never go away. She would die feeling that terror, and they would all die, and the world would sink into the cold dark misery that Vamdemon seemed so intent on bringing upon them...

And then there had been light. So much light that it had hurt her eyes, but it had thrilled her heart. Of all the Chosen--of all the children--standing there, looking up at the sky, watching the light illuminate all the shadows of the world and their hearts, she shouldn’t have forgotten the light. She should have had faith, and for one cold minute, she hadn’t.

They won?

Although she had never experienced the trepidation of Miyako, Daisuke, or Iori regarding the destruction of a fatal enemy, she had never experienced elation either. What she usually experienced was simply relief that they were alive and that for a few minutes at least, they didn’t have to fight for it. When she was little, she used to seek her brother’s hand after those battles. She never shook then. She was simply relieved.

But she felt elation now, some little bit of that feeling at least. Wizardmon was finally avenged, what had started so long ago had finally resolved, and they were still safe. All of them. Or almost all of them. Oikawa hadn’t survived to see this light. She refused to shield her eyes as the others did.

They won.

“We did it!” she squealed. Squealed. She was so grateful, then, for the light that hurt her eyes and Tailmon standing beside her panting with exhaustion but alive and the silence that turned to murmurs that turned to shouts because they were alive and they had won. She threw her arms around the person nearest her--It happened to be Daisuke--and she kissed his cheek, still grinning.

“We did it! You were right,” she said breathlessly. “We did it!”

She pulled the next nearest person--Miyako--into the embrace without catching sight of Daisuke’s stunned expression.

2. Passed out somewhere.

She sat up, clutching her head as though that would make the world stop spinning. She felt as though she was going to throw up, and she didn’t have the strength to resist… right on his shoes.