Chapter Text
It’s been a while since Kōshirō could just go to the Digital World at whim. Sure, he’s been there - the whole Milleniummon debacles, when they’d been called to release their crests, when he’d parsed the coded instructions in the programs Gennai sent him and found the gate that opened on its own – once in a while, they went for a day or so. But they’ve always been limited by what the Digital World lets them do. Kōshirō wasn’t sure what, exactly, opened the gate, and without anywhere to start had never been able to figure it out. They’d been limited to video calls and the occasional surprise visit for three years.
His theory on the new digivices was correct, though. Not only could they open the gates just by asking one of the younger kids to be in the room – something that they usually did with minimal grumbling, other than Miyako, who did it with rather loud and excessive grumbling – but, if Kōshirō could dissect one and analyze the differences between it and his own Digivice, he might be able to figure out what exactly caused the gate to open.
Soon. Right now – bigger problems.
It’s probably not safe for him to be in the Digital World right now, since Tentomon can’t digivolve and some kid is running around trying to kill anything with a skeletal system (do plant Digimon have a skeletal system? Maybe there’s a way to check without dissection – have to look into it), but it’s nighttime and he trusts Tailmon’s judgment on his safety. Anyway, his position is defensible, hard to find, a little alcove tucked into a cave tucked into the crack of a mountain, his base of operations for those months when Taichi had disappeared and they’d all gone their separate ways.
His notebook is indecipherable to anyone else, a mess of sketches and scribbles and sometimes the answer to a math problem he’d come up with three weeks ago and suddenly solved, but he’s fairly certain any of the other DigiDestined could get a grasp on it by glancing; they all know the crests by heart now.
If he could just talk to Gennai, maybe he’d get some direct answers. If Gennai just gave them a way to contact him instead of being a vague, distant figure all of the time, then things would be so much easier.
But they aren’t.
This isn’t helping. Kōshirō leans his head back against the cool rock, resting his arm on his knee. He sort of wishes he’d brought his computer, and he will next time, but for brainstorming theories, this is better – less opportunity to get distracted. He doesn’t have the threat of potential death to motivate him the way he did a few years ago. And after those last days, when Mugendramon had tracked them on his laptop…when he’d almost gotten them all killed –
Well. The notebook would do for now.
“Kōshirō!” a voice calls, distant, and Kōshirō jolts, instinctively reaches for his Digivice – and then another yell of “Kōshirō, where are you?” and he relaxes.
“In here, Taichi-san!” Kōshirō yells back. There’s a moment’s pause, and then Kōshirō’s Digivice starts to beep as another one comes towards him; within moments Taichi comes into view, his face ghostly in the light of Kōshirō’s electric lantern.
“Jeez, Kōshirō, how did you find this place? And why are you all the way back here?” Kōshirō instinctively scoots over, and Taichi slides in next to him; it’s cramped, but nice, in the sort of way that Taichi’s ridiculous body warmth pressing against his side is always nice. It reminds him a little of when they were kids, hiding beneath the tires in the park – though they’re somewhat larger now.
“It was one of the places we stayed when searching for Gennai. I thought it wise to go deep in, since Tentomon is sleeping, and I can’t exactly fight any evil Digimon myself.” Kōshirō shrugs, jostling them both in the process.
“Oh.” Taichi’s voice is slow, the way it always is when they bring up those months he’d disappeared. “What are you working on?”
Kōshirō’s shoulders go a little straighter. “I’m trying to figure out those eggs that the younger DigiDestined picked up,” he says. “The ones with our crests on them.”
“I’ve been wondering about that, too.” Taichi’s lips are curled down, the type of hard expression that he’s only started perfecting recently. “Why couldn’t we pick them up, but Takeru and Hikari could?”
“Right!” Kōshirō nods. “And, in addition – what are they, exactly? How do they have our crests on them? Logically, they must have been created at some point before we arrived at the Digital World, since our crests were either in our possession our destroyed by Apocalymon since then – but when? When Gennai had them? During a transfer between Piemon and the hiding spots? Or is it something Piemon created?” He points the edge of his pen at some notes in the corner of the page. “And the process of Armor Evolution. That’s strange, too. I wondered, at first, if they functioned the way the crests worked for us, but physically speaking, it appears as though they actually integrate the eggs into their physiology – similar, I think, to how WarGreymon and MetalGarurumon became Omnimon, back during the Diaboromon battle.”
Taichi blinks. “So the eggs are Digimon?”
“Or at least recognized as Digimon in the evolution process,” Kōshirō allows, flipping his pen between his fingers as he speaks. “I’m not exactly sure on how it works yet, but I have theories – I’m going to bring my laptop to school tomorrow and ask one of the younger kids to let me see their devices, figure out if I can connect them somehow and investigate through there. Miyako-kun will probably let me use hers. And if I can figure that out – “ he looks up, and abruptly his hands stop spinning. “What, is something wrong?”
Taichi immediately yanks his eyes away from where he’s been staring at Kōshirō’s face, hiding his expression behind his sleeve. “Nothing,” he says, in a tone that Kōshirō has come to recognize as his I’m Lying To Save Face tone, which usually only comes out when fighting Sora or pretending not to be hovering over Hikari. But then – “I just…haven’t seen you this excited about anything. In a while. It’s nice.”
Koushirou stares. “O-oh,” he says, and his face is going red for no reason. “Thank you. Taichi-san.”
Taichi pulls his arm down to smile, weakly, his face probably as red as Kōshirō’s is. And then Taichi says, “Oh, yeah, and I’m actually here because Hikari said she needed to go to bed and you should go back.”
Kōshirō blinks. “You – “ He sits straight up. “What!”
“I forgot!” Taichi defends, and his smile isn’t even approaching sheepish, the bastard, “It slipped my mind, you were having such a good time!”
“You – oh, no, Hikari-kun thinks – extremely rude – I cannot believe – “ This time, when he hits Taichi with his shoulder, it’s entirely on purpose. “You are explaining this to her!”
Taichi is borderline laughing now. “I think I can manage that,” he promises, tossing his legs over the side and standing, rolling his neck until it cracks as Kōshirō stands behind him – and when he turns and tosses his usual smug grin over his shoulder, Kōshirō’s face goes just a little redder for no reason at all, dammit. “Let’s head out.”