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Chapter Text

Maki sits up, in bed, and mourns. (This is a part of her routine, the same as sitting with a cup of tea is, the same as using her planner to be sure that she has her tasks for the day set in order.)

It is two years since she and her friends had returned from the Digital World. It is two years since Bakumon had died. It had been 1990, when she and the others had fallen into the Digital World, had become its heroes as they fought to defeat evil and restore the world -- and it is 1992, now, and the grief does not feel any less than it had been. It's something sharp in her chest, a jagged thing, that slides between her ribs and pulls down, down, down, some days leaving Maki aching so much that she cannot help but cry.

(The incident didn't have any real media coverage or news. Just a sudden earthquake, and Maki and Daigo and Hanayori and Ryuuga and Yumeko had all fallen into the Digital World.

They'd been missing, to the human world, for eight hours, seemingly trapped beneath the earth when the ground had broken open inexplicably. In the Digital World, it had been months. Everyone assumed that the five of them had gone through some trauma, had bonded in that short amount of time, and none had bothered to correct anyone. It wasn't worth it.

Maki still misses Bakumon like a limb sheared off from her. Unbalanced, unsteady, like she would topple over if you pushed just the right way. She misses Bakumon.)

It had been -- rather terrifying, first meeting Bakumon, but with two year's time and rose colored glasses Maki imagines it as being much better than it surely had been. (But then, again, she had not been aware of how terrible things were to come, then. She had only seen Bakumon and thought -- oh, here is a friend.)

Maki screams, when the ground breaks open. She screams as she falls, as the air rushes past her and as the sky blurs.

Maki screams, and screams, and screams more, until her lungs strain under it, until she lands with a sudden jolt onto the ground. She takes a moment to draw in breath. Try to focus past the throbbing in her chest, and in her ankle where she landed on it oddly. (She's freaking out. But anyone would freak out, after the ground breaking open beneath them, after falling with no warning, after seeing her parents fall away as she fell deeper into the earth --

And now she's here, wherever that is.)

"Are you alright?"

And with the new voice, Maki jolts again, whips her head around and inhales to scream -- only for it to die in her throat at the sight. Some kind of. . . creature. Brown fur, with a . .. cloud? attached. She blinks, for several long moments.

"Are you alright?" Asks the voice again, which Maki sees is attached to this creature. It's rather soft. Gentle? Maki thinks gentle is a good word. She doesn't really know what's going on right now (she hasn't known what's going on ever since the ground broke open), but by now she's too stunned to bother screaming anymore. Screaming takes energy she doesn't have. She wants to shake herself -- the. . person, looks worried, so she should answer.

It takes a few times to get her throat to cooperate, but Maki manages. "I'm alright now." She says, and it's mostly not a lie. "I was just scared before." She should be scared of this creature, probably, but somehow Maki can't feel anything but a sort of detatched calm and safety, now that the little creature has floated up to hover a little bit above Maki's legs, on the ground. "I'm Maki -- Himekawa Maki. It's nice to meet you."

"That's a bit of a funny name!" The creature says, but without any malice. "I'm Bakumon!" Bakumon uses boku, Maki notices, so -- that's good to know. Probably a he, if he's using boku.

"Hello, Bakumon." Maki greets, politely. Something glints at her hip when she says that, and Maki and Bakumon both look down -- fallen into Maki's lap, from somewhere, is a little hexagonal sort of shaped device, with a flat screen that shines just a few seconds more before going dim.

"What do you think that's for?" Bakumon asks, hovering lower to sort of rest on Maki's leg (the one without the injured ankle).

"I don't know." Maki answers, picking it up and slipping it into her skirt pocket anyways. She looks at Bakumon. "Is there anywhere I can sit and rest that's a little safer?" They are, after all, in the middle of some strange, forest-like area. "Hopefully not somewhere very far? My ankle is hurt."

Bakumon hums, and closes his eyes. "I think. . . I think i know somewhere! It's not too far, I promise."

"I trust you." Maki tells him, as she carefully stands up, and follows as Bakumon leads her away from where she'd fallen. (it would set a trend, of Maki following Bakumon, trusting him to lead her into the unknown. As far as first meetings go -- it is a good one.)

Chapter Text

Bakumon, as it turns out, is not nearly the strangest thing in this place.

Maki gapes, looking up at the towering structure in front of her. It looks like a business office type of building like Maki's parents ended up working in, like those skyscrapers she would hear about in Tokyo or Shinjuku. The tall, tall buildings that you have to strain to see. It's the only building of its kind in the surrounding area -- all around are trees and forests and rocks and even a river, the skyscraper alone in its oddness.

It's here that Maki meets the others.

"Who are you?" Asks a boy as soon as she enters the building, almost shoving himself in his face. "What's your name, what grade are you in?"

Maki leans back, one hand clutching Bakumon's foreleg anxiously. "Uhm--" And then her ankle makes its annoyance known, and gives out, and Maki stumbles backwards even further.

A different boy dives to catch her, as a small bird creature shrieks something, and a turtle-looking creature makes some noise of shock, and a little dragon and bear also rush forward beside the last boy here.

The boy who catches her is older than the first boy, with black hair and brown eyes to contrast the other's dark brown hair and black eyes, and the third boy has a sharper face and has longer black hair and is wearing glasses. "Are you okay?" Asks the boy who caught her, and Maki slowly shakes her head.

"I sprained my ankle when I fell." She says, still holding Bakumon, who is still letting himself be held. "I'm Himekawa Maki. Uhm. . . I'm thirteen, I'm a second-year junior highschooler." A pause. "Oh, and this is Bakumon." She doesn't let go of his leg while she says this. Holding on Bakumon is doing a lot to calm Maki down right now.

"What grade is that?" Asks the first boy, the young one.

"That's eighth grade." Answers a different person, a girl who looks a little younger than Maki and the other two boys, but older than the boy who just spoke. She takes the hand of the turtle and swings it back and forth. "I'm Kamiki Yumeko, and this is Kamemon! I'm eleven and I'm in sixth grade."

The boy still holding her carries her over to a little couch that Maki hadn't first noticed, and sets her down. The bear follows him. "That's Bearmon." He says, pointing. "I'm Nishijima Daigo, twelve, and I'm a first-year junior highschooler." He points at the boy standing next to the dragon. "That's Mibuchi Ryuuga and Dracomon. Mibuchi-kun is the same age as me." Then Nishijima points at the last boy, the youngest. "That's Hiiragi Hanayori and Piyomon. Hanayori-kun is ten and in fifth grade, and his given name has four kanji."

"Nishijima!" Hiiragi whines. "You weren't supposed to tell them!"

"If you didn't want them to say," Piyomon points out, "you shouldn't have said it yourself."

Kamiki sighs, and walks over to sit next to Maki and Bakumon (who's migrated to sitting on Maki's lap, so she doesn't have to awkwardly hold onto his leg). Kamemon politely sits beside her, as well. "It's nice to meet you, Himekawa-senpai." She bows, and Maki bows back.

"It's nice to meet you as well, Kamiki-chan." Maki isn't entirely paying attention to the conversation, but Hiiragi is whining at Nishijima, while Mibuchi tries to keep the peace between the two of them. "Say, I don't mean to be rude, but have they been like this the whole time?"

"Since we got here." Kamiki confirms. "I don't think Hiiragi-kun cares very much about being polite."

Maki hums. "He's young. I'm sure he can learn." He'll have to, after all. Maki is the oldest, so she'll have to look out for everyone, and she doesn't feel like putting up with anyone being rude to anyone else. (Casual is okay, Maki things, considering the circumstances and the fact that they all probably fell out of the sky. But rude is just too far.)

All in all, it is a very fitting first introduction to the people that would become Maki's greatest friends.

Chapter Text

It's a cold night, tonight. One of the coldest they've had so far, in this strange digital world. They're lucky that Piyomon can make little fires -- it's made starting fires easier, so they're able to have a roaring campfire to keep them all warm.

"Do you think it's winter, back home?" Nishijima muses, laying on his belly on a blanket they'd taken from one of the first buildings they'd wandered into.

(Most of their supplies were things they'd taken from that first, inexplicable skyscraper. Maki still doesn't know why it was there, why it had all the things it had in it, or where here is, but they'd taken advantage of it nevertheless. They tried to be practical -- Bakumon and the other creatures, the Digimon, had insisted that they shouldn't stay in one place for too long, that an unspecified "they" would "get them". Maki was born in a larger city just like everyone else, but she'd gone camping once for a school trip, and Maki did her best to think of what things they'd need. She doesn't think she did very good, but -- it's something, at least. They have some food, and bags to carry things in, and blankets and at least one box cutter for just in case.)

"It was summer when we fell into here, wasn't it?" Kamiki asks, hugging Kamemon as she sits and moving their arms around like if they were a little doll. "I don't think that much time has passed. It's only been a few weeks, right?"

They all turn to look at Mibuchi who, having been holding a journal on him, had been very carefully keeping track of days. "It's been two and a half weeks." He confirms, holding said journal carefully in one hand, a pen in the other. (He'd been very excited to see some of the office supplies they'd found in the skyscraper. Apparently Mibuchi was the type of person who was really interested in stationery and the different kinds of things one could find. Not that Dracomon paid much attention to that type of thing, though -- the little dragon was curled up fast asleep on Mibuchi's lap.)

"So it's probably still summer." Kamiki continues. "Unless time works different here from at home."

Maki hums, idly scratching behind Bakumon's ear. "Where is home, for all of you?" At the confused faces she sees, she clarifies, "where do you live? What part of Japan?"

"I'm from Roppongi, in Minato Ward!" Hiiragi is the first to answer, cheerfully. Piyomon cheers a little too, matching Hiiragi's energy even if the bird doesn't seem to know what he means.

"Harajuku, in Shibuya." Kamiki says, more polite and quiet.

"Oh! Is that why you dress like that?" Mibuchi asks, leaning forward -- still far enough away from the fire to not risk falling in. A beat, before he starts waving his hands a bit awkwardly. "Not that how you dress is bad! It isn't! Just -- your clothes are really cool and different from ours."

"Yes, I wear Harajuku fashion." Kamiki answers with more grace than Maki would have been able to manifest. "My parents do too." She looks down at Kamemon. "If we ever get home and you come with me, I'll see if I can find some clothes for you to try on too."

"That sounds fun, Yumeko!" Kamemon is as cheerful as Hiiragi had been.

Which reminds Maki. "Where did you say you were from, Mibuchi-kun?" She asks, politely.

"Oh -- I'm from Akihabara. Chiyoda Ward." He looks over to Nishijima. "What about you, Nishijima-kun?"

"Odaiba." He says, simply. "Technically, from the part of Odaiba that's in Minato ward." He's not looking at any of them anymore, just looking into the fire. (Maki wonders, a little, what he sees in there.)

"What about you, then, Himekawa-senpai?" Mibuchi turns his attention to Maki. "Where are you from?"

"Nakano ward." She answers, still scratching behind Bakumon's ear. "Nakano the city, also."

"Did you ever go to Nakano Broadway? That's something that's really popular in Nakano, right?" Mibuchi's turned to face Maki fully. "Is Nakano nice?"

Maki shrugs one shoulder, looking down to focus at Bakumon instead. "I've never been to Nakano Broadway, but I'd like to someday. Just to see what it's like. I guess Nakano is okay. But it's home and I don't really know how to describe it."

The conversation drifts a bit, after that. There's a general agreement that when -- if -- they all get back home, they'll try to visit each other, or at least try to visit the cities that everyone is from. The conversation meanders from there, though, into favorite television shows or games to play, about favorite or least favorite school subjects, about things everyone does in general.

(Everyone is careful not to talk about the few fights that they've been in. Their digimon evolving to protect them had been a thing of awe but also terror, and Maki hopes desperately that they will be able to go home soon, that whatever mysterious force that seems intent on attacking them will have a sudden urge for mercy and will leave them alone.

It's nice, getting to know everyone. It's nice, knowing Bakumon -- the little creature feels like a missing part of herself Maki hadn't known she was missing. She can't imagine not having Bakumon, even after only three weeks of knowing him.

But still -- but still --

More than anything, Maki just wants to go home. She doesn't want to have to worry about all of this danger. She doesn't want to have to worry about everyone else, to worry about if they'll wake up at all tomorrow. She wants to go home, when things were safe and the worst that Maki had to worry about was getting her homework done on time.

She doesn't say any of this, but Bakumon drapes himself more fully on Maki's lap like a comfortable cat, and it does help her feel better. Maki really doesn't know what she'd do without Bakumon -- she's glad he's here. She hopes he'll always be here, after this.)

Chapter Text

They end up stumbling their way into a village, eventually. It's a rather small village, compared to the big cities of Tokyo, but it's still a decently-sized village, Maki thinks.

The whole group (all five children, and all of their digimon) basically collapse as soon as they actually get inside of the village. Some large digimon, who kind of looks like a centaur and introduces themself as Sagittarimon, nearly trips over their own feet to make sure that the group of ten have somewhere to sleep or at least bonelessly lie on the ground. Which is what Maki ends up doing, falling onto some cushioned little pouf in one of the little buildings and just laying there.

Bakumon gently lands beside her, and curls up a bit like a cat, resting his head on Maki's chest to listen to her heartbeat in case it ever stops. He worries like that. It makes Maki appreciate him even more.

It's strange, to not be wandering anymore. They all take a few days to just sit and rest and not move, and it's -- strange. (Maki wonders if this is what people mean by wanderlust, this feeling of almost confusion at the fact that she's going to be staying here for longer, that she doesn't need to keep her things all packed, that Maki doesn't need to just get up and walk away away away.)

They settle. They adjust. They learn to stop sleeping with one eye open, to stop looking over their shoulders constantly. They bond with each other, more. ("It's been how long since we got here?" Asks Hanayori, who had insisted they all call him that. "We've been friends long enough that you can use my given name. You guys have kept me safe even when it was scary and dangerous!" And from there, they'd just sort of all fallen out of some of their formality, everyone's given names being used -- some of them having more ease in adjusting than others.)

That's not to say there's no fighting or annoyances at all, that there aren't nightmares, that they all don't miss home, but . . . they adjust. The village is nice enough, after all, full of armour digimon (who are apparently different from other digimon?) and all sorts of baby digimon. It's a rather cozy place to be. There's plenty of food and shelter, and. . . before she knows it, three months have passed.

Maki still misses home, but. . . she has Bakumon, and Daigo and Bearmon, and Ryuuga and Dracomon, and Yumeko and Kamemon, and Hanayori and Piyomon, and with her little group of friends (they make Maki think of having younger siblings, some times), things really aren't so bad. She could get used to this, if she had to. (She still wants to go home. But she thinks that she wants to take Bakumon with her, after this.)

Chapter Text

It's just the two of them here at the moment, and Daigo isn't entirely sure how to feel.

It's . . . nice, he thinks. Sitting here with Ryuuga. Ryuuga understands Daigo, in a way that Maki and Yumeko don't because they're girls, and Hanayori can't because he's too little. Ryuuga understands Daigo's complaints, about how some of his classmates will giggle over girls and who they think is pretty and how that's just -- confusing. (Well -- Daigo can kind of understand, because some girls are pretty, but he doesn't think anyone is pretty enough for it to be that important like his classmates insist.) Ryuuga understands Daigo's worries, too, about wanting to help make sure the younger two don't get hurt, about wanting to get out of this Digital World without anything bad happening.

(Bearmon tries to understand the last two. But Bearmon doesn't really get the thing about Yumeko and Hanayori being younger, and why that means they need to be kept safe. And Bearmon doesn't really know why someone would want to leave the Digital World either, but Daigo can't blame him for that one, because as scary as it is there's also good parts, like the village they're in right now, and the Digital World is Bearmon's home anyways.)

But the point is -- spending time with Ryuuga is nice. Ryuuga is nice. (He has a nice smile, Daigo thinks. Pretty eyes.) Daigo doesn't need to say anything, and neither does Ryuuga. The two of them just sit here, in this comfortable silence, and it's nice. (Daigo hopes they can keep doing this, even after they get out of the Digital World. He'd love to spend more time just. . . being, with Ryuuga by his side.)