Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was like the world was blown wide open when they finally exited the sewers. There was no ceiling, no walls. An even larger volume of water sloshed with no end in sight. Falcomon and Minoru’s argument seemed to drown in the sea even as it happened.

Here the smell was different: salt and the aftertaste of rain, just a little tang of blood. And something else that wafted into her nose whenever everyone so much moved. Incidentally, everyone seemed jumpy whenever anyone else so much as moved, too.

Aoi watched Saki toeing the beach, stepping over rocks as widely spaced apart as her skirt would allow her to. The rocks seemed slippery, Aoi thought, an accident waiting to happen. Maybe Floramon thought so too, hovering with visible worry. Maybe she wasn’t saying anything for the same reason Aoi wrung her hands together, tight-lipped.

Saki slipped, or so it appeared, her shoes making a squelching sound, her arms flailed a little. Floramon leapt to catch her, but she was already righting herself on her new perch, clutching her chest.

“Are you alright?” said Floramon, almost, but not quite touching Saki’s hand.

Saki laughed. “That was a close one, wasn’t it? Hey, Floramon, whatever would you do if I’d fallen?”

Floramon fumbled for an answer. Floramon, who had always appeared to know Saki inside and out. It reminded Aoi a bit of school and its drama, even though there was only one of Saki and Floramon. It made her a little ill.

“I’m going out on a walk,” she told no one in particular, and ran away without waiting for a reply. Footsteps pattered after her shortly. A light bump on the tips of her fingers. Well, she hadn’t waited for Labramon exactly — she knew. Aoi patted Labramon’s head. For whose reassurance? Maybe both of them; they were partners, were they not, their fates intertwined?

They went into the forest beyond the beach. Anywhere but the dark, claustrophobic waterways where so many bad things had happened. She didn’t have a particular purpose either other than getting fresh air. And for that the forest was a relief. She breathed easier now without the airborn anxiety — it was then she realized it was anxiety that she had smelled from the others.

“Labramon,” she said suddenly. “Do you smell anything different?”

Her partner looked at her rather timidly, probably wondering if like Floramon she was being tested. Aoi patted her to say, no, she was not, because if anyone was on trial it was Aoi herself. After a moment, Labramon answered in her usual earnest fashion. “Well, the sea is different from the forest, and I haven’t noticed any hostile presence, but I’m sure that’s not what you’re asking.”

“There was a rather unpleasant scent when we were around the others, but not when we’re alone. Like, uh, wet and mouldy.”

“Oh, now that you mentioned it. Since we’re alone I don’t notice it so much.” Labramon tilted her head. “I didn’t know you could pick that kind of stuff too, Aoi.”

“Me neither. To be honest, I’m not sure I’m not imagining it. I think it must have come from you, Labramon. Maybe just as my wish to be stronger gives you the power to evolve to Dobermon, I’m getting whiffs of what you’re sensing.”

Labramon’s tail sped up, then down. “Aren’t you worried? Not that you should be, but Minoru and Falcomon, and Kaito and Dracmon, even Saki and Floramon… I think it’s understandable that they’re wary of each other. It’d be understandable if you were afraid of me, too.”

“Even you think so, Labramon?” Aoi sighed. But it was as Labramon had said: understandable. “I… well I’d never say never, but I do know I have nothing to fear from you.”

And that was as far as Aoi could bring herself to say aloud. She was not inclined to badmouth someone who was dead — she felt guilty enough for thinking something close to it. But she knew it to be true; she knew that deep down the others were thinking it, too. Whatever it was that they had that Shuuji had lacked, trust or hope or simple delight in each other that should have allowed Kemonogami and children to become stronger together, but the absence of which had prevented Wendigomon to know friend from foe.

Aoi could think that, and also think it was unfair that Shuuji and Lopmon couldn’t have more time to work things out. But that was a given. Arukenimon, or any enemies could not be expected to wait. Aoi’s parents had raised her to never blame others, to always look for the things within her control. No matter what she kept returning to these points. It couldn’t have been helped that Shuuji and Lopmon had not been ready. The enemy could not be expected to be lenient. Therefore even though she blamed Arukenimon fully for the tragedy, it had been also down to the rest of them, Aoi especially, to…

“Aoi?” Labramon said. Aoi had stopped walking. The Kemonogami peered up at her anxiously.

“I was just thinking… I want to be more reliable.”

“But you are!” protested Labramon. “Everyone always comes to you because they know you’ll always protect them, and be there for them.”

Aoi smiled at her. It would be nice if it was either of those things, Aoi thought. Trust and understanding. “Thank you, Labramon. But it won’t matter if I can’t rely on myself, I think. And… I don’t think it’s enough to just protect.”

“It’s not?”

“Well… it’s like our last fight, isn’t it? Sure, we held them off, for a while. But the enemy would just keep coming. To really keep everyone safe, we must fight back.” Implicit was that they must also kill, but Labramon, being a Kemonogami, would have caught that even if she was not Aoi’s partner.

Aoi was reminded of the rock songs she’d loved as music divorced from lyrics. The few whose lyrics she’d looked up the translation for had made her uneasy. She could almost hear them in her mind, and understood the lyrics now. She might not fully empathize with every single word, but something resonated deep within her all the same. Anger, or sorrow, not that she thought they were necessarily separated.

Abruptly, Labramon shifted, as if to pounce. A threat. Aoi knew this without looking. Together they hid behind a tree. The Kemonogami limbered into sight. It was slightly hunched over, long arms grazing the ground, but not so much that it would move as the gorillas she had seen at the zoo would. Her eyes were instantly drawn to its two mouths. The one that had continued grinning even as it had wailed over its sore throat. The one that had closed around Shuuji.

Aoi didn’t know what she would have done if Labramon hadn’t stayed with her. Her partner’s presence anchored her. They were not in the sewers and it was not the same Wendigomon; Takuma and Agumon had taken care of that. But Takuma and Agumon were not also here, and if the Wendigomon would only turn its head, it would not end prettily for Aoi and Labramon. That was the fate of the powerless. Shuuji understood that better than anyone; of everything, Aoi couldn’t fault his desire for power. That was the tragedy, wasn’t it?

Unconsciously holding her breath, Aoi began to turn from the oblivious Wendigomon. Labramon growled, the sound like a hiccup, like she was startled. Aoi noticed it a second late: another Wendigomon grinning over them. They were downwind. The Wendigomon’s silence seemed like a taunt. By now the other one had noticed and flanked them. Labramon’s warning bark echoed Aoi’s nerves.

“Please, we mean no harm,” Aoi said. The Wendigomons lowered their shoulders like sumo fighters ready to strike.

There was no time to think of how badly one Wendigomon had outmatched their fully evolved party, let alone two of them against one Dobermon. Whichever end of partner and Kemonogami had sparked first, evolution and the hunger for power spread like wildfire between the two of them, and Dobermon’s bigger, more powerful jaws met one Wendigomon’s arm. It would have to be a shallow bite. The other Wendigomon’s fist narrowly missed Dobermon as she rolled and leapt, green fire spilling out of her mouth.

It was not enough. One smashed the ground, sending a shockwave to meet the flames, and another aimed at the side so that Dobermon had no choice but to cease her attack. It was one hairs-breadth escape after another without a chance to retaliate. With fear and dread constantly ratcheting, it was no wonder that Aoi soon ran out. And at the bottom of that well was wrath. At their situation, because Aoi and her friends had no business being trapped in this world; at the Wendigomons, for ignoring her cry for peace; at the Kemonogami in general, because this had happened many times before and would continue so long as Aoi and her friends were trapped, unable to go home.

Then Dobermon inhaled hugely and puffed out her biggest flame yet. It caught on the trees and the undergrowth. The two Wendigomons seemed to hesitate. But it wouldn’t be for long.

“Run, Aoi! I’ll hold them off!” Already the Wendigomons had stepped over the wall of fire as though it was nothing.

“I won’t leave you, Dobermon. I can’t, anyway. Both of us have to survive or no one does. No, we need to defeat them… we need power. We must overpower them!”

Aoi didn’t quite remember how Dobermon had responded. Her emotions overflowed into Dobermon, becoming power. Cerberusmon, as she would later introduce herself to Aoi, was bigger. Fierce, even a little scary. The Wendigomons didn’t stand a chance. Aoi didn’t like the feeling rushing through her as she watched them disintegrate, so she looked away.

After, Aoi rushed to Cerberusmon and praised her. With a shyness at odds with her new form, Cerberusmon asked, “Do you think I’m scary?”

Maybe not shyness, then, just a consideration for Aoi’s peace of mind. She buried her hands in the neck fur, nothing that together they barely covered one side. “Not at all. I mean, yes, but it’s a good kind. I want you to scare our opponents. If more of them would reconsider fighting it would be nice. Plus, it means you’re strong, doesn’t it?”

Strong, yes, and she could grow even stronger. Aoi felt suddenly, strongly, that this was not yet the last of Labramon’s evolutions. And Labramon, gentle soul wholly devoted to Aoi that she was, had left the leash in her hands. The enormity of the responsibility of holding such a great power hit her. Could she be trusted — could Aoi trust herself to always use it wisely? To not destroy more than she build?

Cerberusmon noticed her suddenly pensive expression, but not, it seemed, the true reason. Carefully nuzzling the top of Aoi’s head, she said, “I swear, Aoi, that no matter what form I take, I will never hurt you. Or our friends.”

In a roundabout way it reminded her of what ought to be their priorities. And that Aoi was not alone as she struggled to survive in this alien world. Nothing could be more important, as grim as it felt to her. This strength she would use to protect. To provide peace where friends could clash and figure themselves out without marking themselves as prey. So she vowed to herself.

Aoi looked at her partner in the eye and said, “I know you won’t. I’ve always believed in you.”