childofhope: (smile; a little bit happy)
[personal profile] childofhope

It's hard, living in the real world again. It was August 1st when Takeru Takaishi went to the Digital World for the first time, and August 1st when he returned, too. Then something happened to the timelines, he doesn't really understand it, but after that last battle with Apocalymon, it all matched up between there and home. Which means that now, now, the summer break is almost over. It's almost time for school to start again.

He's forgotten what school is like.

He's forgotten what home is like.

His mom comments on how quiet he is now, which he doesn't quite understand. Was he loud before? He doesn't remember. It's been almost a year for him, altogether. A year's a long time for an eight (nine?) year old. Life before the Digital World is something vague, and maybe he was loud and maybe he wasn't. But he's quiet, now.

They went out shopping for school things yesterday. That's why he's thinking about it now, about whether he's changed or the world has changed or everything has changed. He sits on the floor of his room, poking at his new bookbag with distaste; it's another thing that's changed. He liked the old one, green's a better colour than blue, but his mom pointed out that it was falling apart, there was a hole in the side, and didn't he deserve a new bookbag after saving the world? Sure, but he'd rather have had a Nintendo.

His bag isn't doing anything exciting, though. Nor are his new books, or pens, or coloured pencils. They aren't secretly digital monsters about to attack; he doesn't have to defend anything from them.

He pokes at the bag anyway, just in case.

Nothing happens.

Sighing, he flops back on the floor. Real life is so boring. He misses DigiWorld.

He misses Patamon.

He blinks at the ceiling and expects, for a moment, to hear the flapping of wings and a greeting in a high-pitched voice -- but there's nothing, and he blinks again. Then he jumps to his feet, grabs his hat from his bed, and pulls open his bedroom door.

"Mom? Can I go see Matt and Dad?"

"Oh," comes his mother's voice from down the hall, "honey, I'm a little busy right now, but if you wait a while I'll take you--"

"No -- I wanna go myself."

"TK..."

He's at the door to her bedroom/office now, and he pokes his head in and smiles brightly. "Mom, I'll be okay. I know what train to take. I can call from a payphone if I need to."

She looks at him oddly for a moment, and he worries that he's in trouble and doesn't know why. But then she nods, still with an odd expression, and pulls a few coins out of her pocket to hand to him. "I'll call and tell Matt to wait for you at the other end."

"Oh, Mom--"

"Oh, TK," she echoes almost mockingly, then smiles. "Go on. Be careful!"

"I will. Thanks, Mom!"

And with another smile, he pockets his train fare and heads for the front door.

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Takeru Takaishi

March 2007

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