—A pure, unblemished hue.
A deep, rich color, bursting with intensity.
He had seen many different shades of red throughout his life. Pastel red, burnt red, dull red, vivid red; shades and tints that constantly change with each passing moment. And each shade held many indefinite, yet symbolical meanings to him. Meanings that he doubted any other person could understand their importance to him, at first glance.
A smooth swipe of a thumb over the phone’s surface, and sharp blue irises followed the pages that scrolled past the screen, immersed with the subject matters from certain news blogs. The thumb stopped as he hit the last page. His eyes remained firm on the contents, but a faint dissatisfied scowl soon made its way onto his features as he kept reading. So far, there wasn’t anything he’d consider noteworthy at all; nothing relevant to his own concerns, at least. And at this point it was hard to tell whether or not it was a good thing.
Closing the application and locking his phone, Kiriha quietly sighed and threw his head back a little, offhandedly gazing at the scenery ahead of him with an arm propped over the bridge’s railing. It sure seemed like a fair day, and the view of the waters gave off a serene atmosphere… And not a single person around him seemed the least bit troubled.
He felt himself smirk sardonically at it all. If it wasn’t for his efforts, none of this tranquility would’ve existed at this moment. If it weren’t for his behind-the-curtain feats of silencing the media and keeping them away from the wayward Digimon that still manage to find their way into the human world, everything would have gone turbulent amongst the citizens.
At times like these though, he found himself stopping to think. Why was he still going out of his way to protect those people? Those foolish, deceitful people. Those weak and helpless people. Those cowardly people who were good at nothing but struggling fruitlessly with their pretentious facades, never looking at the true reality of things. Since when did he become so…? Well. Domestic wasn’t quite the right term he’d use to describe himself. Civil? More or less so. Tamed. No, that just wasn’t right either.
Empathetic. That was more like it. Somehow, along the way, he had grown to be more understanding, more accepting of these people’s ways. Somehow, he’d learned to be more forbearing of these people. But, why? It was a question he asked himself as a reminder, like a silent mantra.
…Perhaps it was because of the expectations he secretly had for them. Past those haughty airs of his, there was still a part of him that hoped these people would open their eyes to reality; to fight more honestly for themselves; to discover themselves and find a way of life they can truly accept. And it was that little string of hope he clung to that drove him to protect these people. These people he once looked down upon with contemptuous disdain.
The whirring of a quaint melody resounded in the air, yet it went unnoticed by the blonde teen lost in thought – Piercing beeps quickly followed, however, cutting through the quietness. Electric blue eyes darted to the belt pouch by his side, and he took out his Xros Loader, pocketing his smartphone into his blazer as he did so. It was an unfamiliar tone atypical of his device, yet its tone carried an unsettling vibe. As if it were a dire, urgent call.
Taking a glimpse at the screen, Kiriha didn’t know what to expect. And he didn’t know what to think of the numeral figures that appeared – but then a thought clicked. It was a wild guess… But perhaps these numbers were like the invitations the other Hunters had received back then; like the hunt for Volcdramon. But part of his reasoning instantly shot down the chances of that happening again. Hadn’t the DigiQuartz already crumble away when Quartzmon was defeated? It just didn’t seem plausible to him. Unless…?
“…Kiriha! Hey, Kiriha!”
He glanced down to the source of the voice, spotting a small and barely-realized Dracomon waving both arms up at him. Perplexed, Kiriha frowned. “Dracomon? What is it?”
“Kiriha, I’m getting a really bad feeling about that message!”
“You’re saying you know what this is?”
“No… but I don’t like it.” Dracomon shook his head. A worried tone laced the little dragon’s voice. "It feels like something really bad is about to happen…!“
Kiriha’s frown deepened. "All the more reason to investigate.” He pushed himself off the railing and stood up, holding up his Xros Loader. “Come. We’re not done yet.”
“But, Kiriha–!”
“This isn’t the time to complain,” the blonde cut in, though his voice held no strictness. Rather, hints of concern seem distinct in his tone. “If it’s as bad as you’re making it out to be then it’s definitely not something I’d overlook. Now get back in the Xros Loader and let’s go.“
Dracomon still didn’t move from his spot, however. "But Kiriha, how do we figure out what the message means anyway?”
Kiriha paused, lowering the device in hand. “It’s more my intuition than reasoning… But I think these numbers are coordinates to a location.” His free hand clenched into a fist. “If we can figure out that location…”
“Ah!” Perking up a little, the small dragon raised his head. “Now that you mention it, something like that happened before, right?”
Kiriha nodded. “Though whether these coordinates point to the human world or the Digital World is something I need to figure out. If it’s in the Digital World…” It would bring him into one tight spot indeed. As of this moment he knew no way of getting to the Digital World from his position. …Unless…
A smirk soon grew on his lips as the idea had formed in his mind, as if finding his situation ironic somehow. “I really am betting too much on my instincts these days.” God forbid Taiki’s ‘I can’t turn by back on someone’ illness had infected him to the point of no return.
“What are you thinking, Kiriha…?”
“Something I haven’t done in a long while,” the blonde turned back to face the small dragon, smirk still intact. “I’m doubting my chances, but, it’s worth a try.” He then lifted his Xros Loader once more, signaling the Digimon that he won’t take no for an answer this time.
Dracomon’s expression seemed to tighten; a fleeting moment passed, and he finally nodded. “Then I’ll believe in you! You’re our General after all; our General is always right!”
“I told you, I’m not a General anymore. My days of leading Blue Flare are over.”
“That’s not true!” Dracomon insisted. “The Blue Flare army’s spirit is still here; with Xros Heart United Army! And you’ll always be our General, Kiriha! Everyone else agrees!”
Lips parted out of surprise pursed themselves into a flat line, and the teen kept silent. A moment’s passing, yet the dragon still stood adamantly. A slow smile soon broke out from the human’s features. “…Do what you want, then. No point in telling you otherwise.”
Clutching the device in hand, he held it out to Dracomon – and the dragon Digimon willingly re-entered its refuge. Kiriha withdrew his hand and gazed down at its screen for a moment, and past the holographic image of numbers projected, he briefly spotted Greymon’s image, motioning to him as if giving him a nod. A corner of his mouth quirked. 'So you’re all with me on this.’ Resolve firm as stone, he held up his Xros Loader once more and voiced out two words he hadn’t uttered in years. “Time Shift.”
The rational side of him had shot down the possibility, yet his intuition still fought back. So when a portal appeared, he wasn’t sure whether to be surprised or not. Half of him expected it; the other half contradicted. Nevertheless, he kept a tight cap on his expression, and stepped through the portal.
…The environment he found himself in upon his arrival on the other side was nothing akin to the DigiQuartz. It wasn’t even close to what surrounded the Tokyo Gate Bridge. Kiriha’s eyes swept across the greenery, brows narrowed and alertness heightened. A thick desolate forest shrouded in mist with the most bizarre flora certainly didn’t belong anywhere in human world. No mistake about it; this was the Digital World.
It was dead silent as the air grew stagnant, and Kiriha strained his ears to listen for background noises. Nothing seemed to indicate there were any presences nearby. But he wasn’t about to take his chances walking through this forest aimlessly. Squinting through the mist, his eyes rose skyward to the furthest part of the treetops.
“Reload, MailBirdramon!”
He leapt onto the raptor-like Digimon’s back with ease, landing on his back into a half-crouch. “Slice past those branches and take to the sky. We’ll get a better view of the forest from high up.”
“Understood,” MailBirdramon clipped. He then thrashed his tail against the excess plants getting in his way, before taking flight – and in his rapid ascent, he roared in a deep voice, “Plasma Cannon!”
Even the thickest of these giant branches were no match for the searing blast; and with the blast making way for a gaping opening, MailBirdramon soared past the treetops and above the misty woods. Soon, the raptor Digimon stabilized himself in altitude, and his human partner straightened himself. Upon peering over the Digimon’s wing, however, the sight of the forest literally took his breath away.
From a bird’s eye view, it was as if the dark forest had been engulfed in a dense haze of noxious miasma rather than the common morning mist. “Like a foul poison…” MailBirdramon drawled out, then shifted his gaze back to his human partner. “I’ll assume this has become a top priority for us to investigate.”
“That goes without saying,” Kiriha muttered, hard gaze firm on the forest’s outlook.
Crowds of people moved about the vast airport’s building, a majority of them exiting as others entered. And amongst the flow of busy chatter and towed cargo, a certain individual stepped out of the building’s large entrance – luggage in hand – and lifted his gaze up. The blue skies overhead were a nice sight to behold from up in the clouds, but even from safe grounds it was a clear view. Seeing it from this standpoint, back on land, it also gave him a sense of relief. The tiredness he felt prior to arriving just seemed to vanish, as if a burden had lifted itself.
A small sigh escaped his lips. Directing his gaze towards the bustling road ahead, he walked on, heading for a certain car that caught his eye. He could see a familiar face – a close blood relative – waving back at him as they approached.
And despite himself, the faintest of smiles tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Finally, he was back, safe and sound… in Japan.
