Chapter Text
There were ghosts in every silent corner of the office. Koushiro was clearing the table, which mostly amounted to moving stacks of empty take out containers to the floor. Taichi didn’t comment on the mess. He’d offered to help clean, once, but Koushiro had just stammered apologies and insisted that he could handle it. All evidence to the contrary.
Taichi set out two Ai-Mart bento boxes on the table. The couch had a bedsheet haphazardly tossed over it, which Taichi moved aside to sit down. He didn’t comment on that, either; didn’t ask when the last time Koushiro had gone home was. He hadn’t been any better, and Taichi sometimes wondered how he had looked to his friends and family that first year without Agumon.
“Thank you,” Koushiro said as he opened his bento. “Let’s eat.”
“It was on the way,” Taichi said, digging into his own box.
“How was Hikari-san’s doctor’s appointment?” Koushiro asked.
“Great,” Taichi said. Despite the grief that hung heavy in the room, he couldn’t help but beam remembering the look on her face when she handed him the printout. The first image he saw of his nephew looked more like a Motimon than a person. Hikari hit him when he pointed that out, but she’d also laughed. This latest round of images looked much more human. “Little guy almost looks like a person!”
“18 weeks is when the baby develops hearing,” Koushiro said. “I read that talking to the baby in the womb can help them to recognize your voice after birth.”
“Trust me,” Taichi grinned, “Tailmon is updating us on every milestone, no matter how small. You’d think she was the mother-to-be.”
“Well,” Koushiro said. He didn’t finish the thought.
“Let’s get started,” Taichi said. Koushiro looked a little relieved to be moving on.
“The Catalyst Project,” Koushiro said, “is ready to enter the live testing phase. Palmon has volunteered to be our first Digimon test subject. That said, it’s still early days. We need a lot more data before we can say with authority that it’s going to be a reliable replacement for the digivices.
“In fact, pairing is already live, and should be as simple as connecting to a Bluetooth device. All you need to do is send a request, and the Digimon should be able to accept it. Palmon and Wormmon both say it’s quick and easy.”
“Wait,” Taichi said, “Does that mean that any phone can pair with any Digimon?”
“In theory, yes,” Koushiro said. “But pairing alone isn’t enough to achieve evolution. Like our old digivices, Catalyst is just that - it can trigger the change, but evolution is fueled by the bonds between partners. The digivices were only ever tools to streamline that process.
“One more thing: we haven’t even begun to test Super or Jogress evolutions. Even basic evolution should be considered a last resort until we have more data from controlled laboratory tests.
“I’ll still push out the update to everyone’s phones as soon as the first test is successful. Just in case.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Taichi said. “I’m actually more worried about what happens afterwards. If people know that we have reliable access to evolution again, we go right back under the microscope.”
“And seeing the Bureau in every shadow,” Koushiro said. “Well, how are things going at the Ministry?”
Taichi scowled. “Slow going.” He’d thought joining the Ministry of Foreign Affairs meant he’d finally be making a difference. But it felt more like he was stuck in the mud. “We have a new proposal due on Friday, but I’m not holding my breath on getting restrictions lifted.”
“Is the proposal not convincing?”
“No,” Taichi said. “The problem is that no one’s ever done this before. How exactly do you open up diplomatic relations with a world with no concept of a State?”
In retrospect, it seemed obvious. But somehow Taichi had never considered that the culture of the Digital World would cause so many problems with integrating Digimon into human society.
Who had the right to speak for the Digimon World? There were no governments, nothing even resembling an international community.
And that was before you got into the politics of the real world. People were scared, and, honestly, he understood why. The amount of Digimon battles in Tokyo alone over the last 2 decades made a pretty good case that Digimon could do massive damage if they were so inclined. And pointing out that people were equally capable of acts of violence did nothing to make anyone feel safer.
“No one was prepared for this, and the law is at least 10 years behind where it needs to be.”
“Iori is trying to force the issue. He’s filing suits challenging every restriction he can find. But they keep fighting him on standing,” Koushiro said.
Taichi raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know he was still doing that.”
“You know Iori. He may not talk about it, but once he starts something…” Koushiro set aside his bento box.
“They can’t put him off forever,” he said. “My best estimate is that we’ll have more than 30,000 partner pairs in Japan alone by the end of the year.”
“Unfortunately,” Taichi said, “once I submit my proposals, my hands are tied. I can’t even talk to Hiroaki without approval from Public Affairs.”
“I guess that means you haven’t gotten approval?” Koushiro asked.
“Not yet.” It had been almost two weeks, and Taichi suspected it wasn’t coming. “Maybe I should just say screw it and do it anyway. Beats doing nothing, right?”
“That would be foolish,” Koushiro said. “Your position gives you a unique opportunity to influence policy. For now, let’s focus on doing what we can to work the system.” Taichi felt like that was how they ended every meeting, but he didn’t have a better suggestion. He packed up the remnants of his bento box, and as a token gesture, took his trash with him.
Originally these biweekly meetings had been attended by all of the Tokyo Chosen, but these days, they were lucky if anyone but the two of them had time to attend. Even Hikari, who had ridden with him all the way from Shinjuku, had gone to the Ichijouji home to visit with Miyako and their friends.
“Come join us when you’re done at Koushiro-san’s, Onii-chan!” she’d said, before they parted at the station. Taichi loved her friends, enjoyed all of them when they visited the apartment, but nothing made him feel more tired and out of place than witnessing the way they careened messily through even the simplest conversation. And now that Mayumi-chan had been born, it had only gotten louder and more chaotic.
“Nah, that’s okay,” he said. “I think I’ll head home after.”
“Okay,” she said. “Try not to spend the whole night working.”
“Say ‘hi’ to everyone for me, okay?”
“See you at home!”
Some people might feel weird about living with their baby sister halfway through their twenties, but it gave Taichi a sense of security he couldn’t quite define. He liked knowing she made it home safe at the end of each day, and he liked being there when she needed to vent. Maybe it was selfish, but it kept him from feeling alone.
When he first moved out, he had reveled in being alone. No more mom monitoring his nutrition. No more dad scolding him for staying out too late with Yamato. No more baby sister to complain about him leaving his boxers on the bathroom floor. No more racing to try to get enough dinner before Agumon had cleaned every plate.
And then there really was no more Agumon.
So if he was a little too eager to accept her request to go in together on an apartment in Shinjuku, she didn’t mention it. And if her excuse about not feeling safe in an apartment alone with Tailmon seemed a bit flimsy, he didn’t call her on it.
It wasn’t far from Koushiro’s office to the train station. On his way, he passed a pink and green Digimon shaped vaguely like a flowerbud. She was singing to herself and flying along by spinning a little yellow leaf on her head like a helicopter. It wasn’t quite commonplace to see a Digimon he didn’t know out on the street, but it wasn’t exactly rare. However far they still had to go, they’d come a long way from the days of pretending they were stuffed animals.
It was a long ride home to Shinjuku, and the light on the train cast everything in a dirty yellow tone. He had to change trains twice, and his phone went off while he was waiting for the final train. It was from Sora.
“I think Yamato is about to propose!”
Taichi’s thumb hovered over the screen. That was good news, really. But it didn’t stop something ugly from coiling in his belly. He typed, “That’s great!” but didn’t hit send. He deleted it and typed “Wow!” That seemed insufficient, so he deleted it too.
Yamato and Sora had been dating off and on since middle school, and it was an unspoken understanding at the Ichijouji Wedding that they were next. But something about an actual proposal made it feel real in a way that it never had before. Yamato hadn’t said anything about it to him yet, but there were a lot of things they didn’t talk about these days.
Taichi hadn’t figured out what to say by the time the train announced Yotsuya station, so he just put his phone away.
The walk home didn’t give him any more clarity on what to say. The apartment he shared with Hikari was a small two bedroom, with what might charitably be called a kitchen tucked in one corner of the living room. The wall across from the bedrooms was decorated with Hikari’s pictures. Light from the next building cast a glare on the glass, hiding the faces of their friends and family. On a small table in a corner, she had set up a picture of Agumon and a small offering bowl. “To remember,” she’d said.
They’d all been feeling pretty fragile in the shadow of Ordinemon that year. They’d gone to a festival to see the fireworks, and Agumon had gone a little crazy for the festival food. Hikari had caught him with his arms full of no less than a dozen ikayaki, which he was jealously guarding from an out of frame Armadimon. She’d given him a copy that spring. That was the moment he knew she wanted to forgive him.
Taichi slipped his shoes off in the entryway. It was too early for bed, so he set up his laptop and went through the team’s proposal again. At this point, he’d spent so many hours on it he could probably rewrite it from memory. He’d agonized over every word.
It was only when he heard the sound of a key in the door that he realized it had gotten dark. At some point the sun had set and he’d never turned any lights on. Light spilled in from the hallway. Tailmon entered first, followed soon after by Hikari and Iori. Hikari was holding on to his arm with one hand.
“Onii-chan? Why are you sitting in the dark?” Hikari asked as she flipped on the lights. Taichi wasn’t ready for it, and winced. Iori walked Hikari further into the room.
“Hi Hikari, Tailmon, Iori. How was dinner with the gang?”
“Fine,” Tailmon said, her ears tucked low against her head. She made a beeline for her and Hikari’s room.
“Hello, Taichi-san,” Iori said, and bowed at the waist. Hikari took the moment of his distraction to hop up on one of the stools in the Kitchenette. “It was great.”
“You should have seen Daisuke-kun with Mayumi-chan! I didn’t know there were that many silly faces to make!”
“I think Miyako-san was already making plans for future babysitting,” said Iori. A great big grin came across his usually stoic face at the memory. He set a brown paper bag on the counter next to Hikari.
“I bet,” Taichi said. He didn’t know what to say next.
“If you’re settled, Hikari-san, I’ll see myself out,” Iori said.
“Thanks for “helping” me get home,” she said. If Iori heard the teasing lilt in her voice, he didn’t react to it. “Text me when you get home!”
“Have a good evening, Taichi-san,” Iori said, and he was out the door.
“Onii-chan, you should have come! Everyone says hi.” Taichi hummed in encouragement. “Miyako-san goes back to work on Monday, and I don’t think she’s ready.” Hikari drifted into the bathroom while she chattered about what each of the younger group was up to. Taichi couldn’t imagine being so involved in the minutiae of his friends' lives, but that was just who she was.
“Oh,” Hikari said as she came out of the bathroom in her PJs, “Daisuke-kun sent you a care package. Did you eat?”
“Even if I did, I’ll eat again if Daisuke cooked it.”
“I’ll leave it out then. I’m headed to bed,” she said, covering her mouth to hide a yawn.
As the light in her room went out, Taichi helped himself to a bowl of ramen. While it was heating, he checked his phone one last time. He never used to struggle with what to say to Sora, but even now the best he could summon was “That’s great!”
Taichi scooped a bite into the empty bowl of Agumon’s shrine, and settled down to his second dinner of the night.