#hikariyagmiweek2022
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come home (hikari week, day one)
for hikari week, @sluggybasson107 and i decided to collaborate - for every entry i’ve written, she’s drawn an image. the picture inserted (below the cut) was created by sluggy, and with her permission, i’ve posted it along with a story.
characters: hikari and friends
summary: the voices call for hikari once again, only this time, she isn’t strong enough to resist. // also on AO3 .
Hikari had grown used to unidentifiable beings worming their way into her body, using her as a catalyst for something Greater, something Bigger than she would ever be.
She had grown used to the nightmares that followed, to the suspicion that her only purpose was to be used for the Greater Good.
At eight years old, stranded in the midst of a desert, Hikari knew the Digital World did not care for the Chosen. They were all means to an end; they were all pawns in a game.
Puppetmon exploited that fact beautifully, whipping them around as if they were mere playthings.
At eight years old, Hikari had watched Wizardmon sacrifice himself for her partner, had commanded Angewomon to send an arrow through her brother’s chest.
At eleven, they called for her again, the inky waters of a dark shore lapping at her sneakers. Voices whispered through her head, simultaneously everywhere and nowhere all at once.
Then, she’s fourteen, waking up in a hospital when she should have been in class. The woman from the government, Maki, had signed her release papers, whispering little encouragements in her ears. “You have a gift, Hikari. The Digital World must love you.”
The woman’s smile had sent shivers down her spine, but Hikari had learned not to ask questions.
Maki had not been there to listen to Meiko scream into the starry sky, her partner’s data floating on the wind. Maki had been mistaken, the Digital World loved no one.
Hikari had not been surprised when the Digital World wrapped her in its schemes once again, Homeostasis itself beckoning to her from the corners of her own mind.
At twenty, Hikari had grown numb.
“Thanks for meeting on such short notice,” Koushiro began. By then, they knew his thanks were a mere formality; they never had much choice when it came to saving the world.
Through the endless responsibilities of a Chosen, Hikari had learned to find comfort in the things that never changed.
Koushiro’s office was still cluttered, an outdated pair of goggles keeping Daisuke’s hair at bay.
Another Kuwagumon ravaged Odaiba Bay, surveillance footage playing through Koushiro’s computer, civilians fleeing the scene like ants running from their mound.
“It appears to be manageable,” he muttered under his breath. Despite his many promotions, Koushiro’s office nearly burst at the seams with full attendance. Childhood friends proved difficult to outgrow.
Wedged between Miyako and the arm of the sofa, Hikari watched the screen listlessly as the Kuwagumon flew overhead, the grainy footage obscuring the sharpness of the pinchers.
Pressure built behind her eyes, a dull thrum reverberating in her skull. From somewhere to her left, her brother formulated a game plan, dividing tasks and responsibilities as he always did.
As Hikari rummaged in her purse for ibuprofen, she allowed her mind to wander.
Taichi’s speech had been memorized long ago, Hikari’s battle tasks unchanging since childhood: stay close, attack only when necessary.
“Do you really need all of us there?” Mimi spoke up, a strand of hair twirling anxiously around her finger. “I mean,” she amended, “It seems a little overkill for just one Kuwagumon.”
Several heads whipped in Mimi’s direction, her face warming with the sudden attention.
“It’s our duty as Chosen to defend our world,” Taichi chastised, Iori nodding along empathetically. “Don’t you remember what happened the last time we were divided?”
A shiver involuntarily ran down Hikari’s spine. Broken memories flooded into her mind’s eye unbidden, out of focus. Only Taichi could recall the past so unflinchingly.
Her brother’s voice droned in the background, recycling words of encouragement from previous battles.
By now, they had heard it all before; Taichi’s words had little effect on Mimi’s somber mood, only irritating her further.
“Instead of arguing, maybe we should, I don’t know, go fight the giant monster terrorizing the city? Just a suggestion.” Miyako’s temper had reared an ugly head, Mimi’s inflamed cheeks spurring her into action.
Tension, wound tight like a rubber band, stretched across the room. Hikari closed her eyes, a vein throbbing at her temple.
Ignoring Miyako’s outburst, Taichi started speaking again, but his voice had faded into a faint buzz behind his sister’s eyelids.
Slowly, the medicine took effect, the sharp edges of Hikari’s headache softening.
She hadn’t realized her brother was still talking until Koushiro cleared his throat. Opening her eyes, Hikari squinted against the fluorescent lights.
“We should probably get going,” the red head suggested, annoyance prickling at his brow. Though he had grown in the years she had known him, Hikari doubted that Koushiro would be able to truly stand up to Taichi.
The others murmured their agreements, gathering their things and securing their partners in their grasps.
Hikari stood, frail frame swaying by the couch.
“Are you okay?” Miyako asked, worry pursing at her lips.
The fluorescent lights seemed brighter than usual, the corners of Hikari’s vision still blurry. Her fists rubbed against her eyelids, blinking rapidly to refocus her eyes.
Blearily, Hikari looked up at Miyako’s form, her lavender hair a mere smudge. “What’s happening?” Hikari asked.
Footsteps clamored down the hallway, small bits of conversation floating through the doorway.
Carefully, Hikari reached for her bag, shouldering it before giving Miyako what she hoped was an encouraging smile.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I just got a bit distracted, is all. Let’s catch up with the others before they leave us behind.”
She blinked a few more times, praying for the blurriness to fade away. Icy tendrils of dread snaked around her stomach; her eyes wouldn’t focus.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Hikari followed Miyako out of the room. With her heart pounding in her ears, it was difficult to hear the instructions her friend repeated, their battle plan suddenly forgotten.
Her shoes clicked against the linoleum tiles, click-clack, click-clack. They turned a corner, Hikari’s stomach rolling.
The girl next to her called out, urgency in her voice. Click-clack, click-clack. Sweat dripped down Hikari’s neck, her breath spilling from her lips in little pants.
“Hey, do we need to slow down? I’m sure the others wouldn’t mind if we were a little behind.” The lavender-haired girl said, her hand squeezing Hikari’s shoulders.
Chest heaving, Hikari yanked her arm out of the stranger’s grasp. “Who are you?” she asked.
The other girl’s eyebrows furrowed, eyes growing wide behind the lenses of her glasses. A sense of familiarity welled in the brunette’s chest, her body at ease despite her panic.
An apology bubbled at the tip of Hikari’s tongue, but she held it at bay; it wasn’t polite for strangers to grab you, no matter how friendly they look. The other girl’s breath was close enough to fan across her face, the slight breeze cooling Hikari down.
Placing a hand on her own forehead, Hikari’s bottom lip caught itself between her teeth. She was warm.
“Are you playing a joke on me? Hikari, I appreciate the effort, but now isn’t the time.” The slight twinge of annoyance dripped from the strange girl’s words, her hand reaching for Hikari once more.
The brunette flinched, backing herself against the wall. "How do you know my name?” Hikari’s voice sounded shrill to her own ears, echoing in the nondescript hallway.
A pair of footsteps grew closer, the older girl snapping her head in its direction.
Unruly, auburn hair poked around the corner, another stir of familiarity rising in Hikari’s mind. Goggles glinted under the too-bright lights, blinding Hikari further. His face was soft with mirth, a playful tint shimmering in his eyes.
“What’s taking you guys so long? This Kuwagumon isn’t going to beat itself.”
His form was too far away for Hikari to make out, melding into an indistinct blob of brown and blue. “Ku-wa-gu-mon?” she whispered to herself, testing the word on her lips. A new wave of panic numbed the tips of her fingers as the girl from before gripped her forearm.
“Daisuke,” the girl began, “I think we have an issue.”
Eyes bleary, Hikari was hardly able to discern the boy’s figure growing closer, the smell of his cologne permeating her senses. Waves of nausea rolled in her stomach.
“Hikari,” the boy - Daisuke, was it? - began, voice low and gentle. “Are you alright?”
His face leaned into her space, his palm pressing against the sheen of sweat that adorned her forehead. “Shit, she’s burning up.”
“Who’s Hikari?” she asked, struggling against the strange girl’s grip. “Please, let me go. I want to go home.”
The girl’s grip only grew tighter, holding Hikari in place.
“Hikari, you’re scaring us. What’s going on? Is it the ocean, again?”
Nails dug into the flesh of her upper arm, the boy whispering something unintelligible.
“Who’s Hikari?” she tried again, body too warm and loud in the unfamiliar hallway. Something buzzed just behind her ears, a voice murmuring indistinctly. “Take me home,” Hikari murmured.
The fluorescents of the hallway dimmed, Hikari knees buckling under the pressure. With her eyes fluttered shut, the voice in her head grew louder, more commanding. “Come home,” it said. “Come home, Child of Light.”
Something warm wrapped around her, cradling Hikari against the cool, tile floor.
“Come home.”
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