Chapter Text
Kyo held the wailing Poyomon in the crook of his arm and caressed their slimy head. There really wasn’t much he could do to console them. He and Yoshimura had searched every corner of the woods, but there was no trace of the scaly in training digimon. The cameras showed the proof: Petitmon had flapped through the barrier and out into the forest on their own accord. This happened two days ago.
“I hate to be the forever pessimist,” the old man said, “but there are no good outcomes to such a small digimon on their own. Between opportunistic cleaners, wild animals, speeding cars…”
Kyo forced a smile, “Who knows, maybe some kind heart decided to take them in.”
“And feed them e-pulse and all?”
“Stranger things have happened in this world.”
“I wish I had your optimism, Kyo.”
Poyomon nuzzled into Kyo’s elbow and sniffed. Kyo cupped his other hand around them. They sucked a drop of e-pulse purely for comfort. They were more than fully fed, but Kyo would allow them this, this one time. “I just don’t understand why they left. They’re bolder than Poyomon, sure, but I don’t think they would just abandon their friend and leave them in such a lonely state.”
“Ah. You assume they have the same values as their owner,” Yoshimura pointed out, “but digimon are mirrors. More often than not, they embody what’s ugly within their owners. The emotions people really feel, but aren’t willing to acknowledge.”
Kyo had to admit his business partner was right. He couldn’t know what the in training digimon were feeling or thinking beyond their basic needs. Poyomon was scared and weepy when they first arrived at the Nirinso Shelter, and kept to themself. But Petitmon was curious and outgoing and broke through Poyomon’s defenses. Pretty soon, they were a pair, always within slime or wing-length from each other.
It wasn’t so different from how Petitmon’s owner had befriended Kyo himself. Perhaps there was a secret part of Tenma Asuka who didn’t want to be tied down to those whose brains made them less than ideal for existing among people.
Kyo wouldn’t think about that subject much, because it kind of hurt.
“If only I could understand them,” the leader of the Golden Dawn said, “they could give me some idea of Petitmon’s state of mind when they left.”
“Well, if it’s not too presumptuous," Yoshimura began, “you do have Reina’s digimon at your disposal.”
Kyo shook his head, “No, I can’t get Pristimon and her involved with this business. It puts too much of a target on her back.”
Yoshimura nodded, “There’s really no way to have Pristimon ask without Reina finding everything out.”
“Exactly,” this wasn’t the first time a digimon had chosen to leave Nirinso. Kyo didn’t like it. It was dangerous for them out there. Even if the elements didn’t get them, people just didn’t like the idea of creatures who fed on human lifeforce running amok. But Kyo would never keep an innocent digimon against their will. Nirinso was a shelter, not a prison.
“I wouldn’t be so concerned if their friend wasn’t so distraught,” Kyo went on. He’d been messaging Poyomon’s slime for the past minute, and the digimon had sort of melted into him. He lowered his voice, “At least they’re finally sleeping.”
***
A third container of potato salad and the red orb was finally starting to slow down. Not that the Adamantine Star would have minded- even more could be delivered from the local deli in a flash. But it was nice that it was finally coming to an end.
Gigimon backed away from the mostly-licked container and smacked their lips. Their eyes moved about his pristine apartment, still starstruck. “Do you really mean it? Do I really get to stay in this place with lots of potato salad forever?” In training 2 digimon could speak, though they still had very simple minds.
The Adamantine’s smile was unreadable. “Something like that. I am looking for a new pet.”
“A pet? What’s a pet?”
“A pet is a like a partner, but not quite the same.”
“Huh,” Gigimon put a stubby paw on their mouth, “Sometimes, the Nice Man in Blue says I’m someone’s partner. Are you them?”
“Do I look like them?” The Adamantine ventured.
“Um. I don’t know?”
Just as he thought. Memories didn’t carry over very well between those lowest stages. This digimon had been Petitmon so long they didn’t even remember who hatched them or anything other than their ‘nursery’.
“No,” the Adamantine said, “I am not. But I can be your owner in another sense. Pets don’t have to fight for their owners. They just sleep on the softest beds and eat the most delicious food and get the most scritches.”
Gigimon’s ears perked at the word and they galloped over into the lap of the sitting man. The Adamantine initiated the scritches: on their head, on their round back, under their leathery ears, next to their stubby legs and tail.
“I really get to be your pet?”
“Well, it depends, of course.”
Gigimon opened an eye, “Depends?”
The Adamantine waved their hand, “Nothing to worry about right now. But there will be a test. And if you pass, you will be my pet forever. How does that sound, treasure?”
Gigimon wagged their tail, “Yes, yes! I want to be your pet forever!” Their eyes opened wide, “Can Poyomon come, too?”
The Adamantine’s eyes narrowed although he was still smiling, “Poyomon?”
“My best friend at the nursery!" Gigimon rolled over, displaying their belly for scritches, “They’re just the nicest, funniest, coolest digimon ever!”
Yeah, the Adamantine wasn’t going to risk stealing another digimon from the boy he replaced. He’d been incredibly lucky with this heist, using the smell of their owner’s favorite food to lure the digimon out. But he smiled benevolently “Perhaps, if you please me as a pet.”
Digimon wagged their tail, “I'll please you! I'll be a really good pet!”
***
Both brothers really were so interesting!
The younger brother was a pariah. A person who glitched the things that held society together with his very presence. His e-pulse wasn’t just powerful- it was downright hazardous. Twisting and turning in on itself, lashing at everything around- he was a menace to society.
It was a story the Adamantine was quite familiar with. He used to think it was a unique story.
He saw signs of the isolation through the hacked school cameras. In a school full of children Tenma Tomoro had no friends, and he was quick to throw up walls whenever anyone threatened him with companionship. He was lonely, angry, belligerant, but that was of no interest to the Adamantine. He just wanted to know what the boy could do.
If only Tomoro would hatch himself a digimon already!
The Adamantine could only get so close. The family, or what was left of it, had the distant protection of his predecessor. While Sawashiro had lost (or rather, foolishly given up) his status as a Five Star, he still wielded a lot of influence in the cleaner community. Not to mention being a formidable combatant with his partner, Murasamemon. In fact, the Adamantine was loath to admit it, but the glitching boy would have stayed off his radar for longer if not for his research into Sawashiro.
The Adamantine would have to wait and observe like a good scientist. In the meantime, he researched his subject. He researched his school, his felonious parents, his old neighborhood, that brother.
That brother.
Tenma Asuka failed to flag the Adamantine as interesting in his initial search. He had a diagnosis for developmental dyslexia and he’d dropped out of high school when his parents were found guilty of high crimes against the government. He had the trifecta of traits to make him perfectly unhireable: his family was criminal; he couldn't read; and he didn't use a sapotama. That was strange, but given the criminal background of his parents, maybe not. As such, most of the work Asuka did was also not legal. Nothing he accepted was overtly violent, but he had strained his neck to look the other way enough times.
Notthing interesting at first, but the elder Tenma’s name flag in a registry of glitched sapotamas. He had been given a new one- and promptly transferred it to his brother. How strange. The older, *boring* brother had hatched a digimon. It was deleted before the boy’s meeting with the Ministry of Civil Protection, and all Tenma had to hand over was an utterly glitched device.
That stunk to the Adamantine. Something about the transfer seemed…too clean.
Months went by, and the Adamantine had his hands in many pots, observing the younger and digging into the older. He even managed to bring him close. He already had the house in the suburbs for other projects; setting it up as if he lived there was little hassle. He even changed his clothes, and put his hair up, and when the young contractor arrived for the job, he shook hands with the practical bachelor ‘Mr. Golden.’
It started with trash disposal, went on to painting, then fence installation. Having him close let him spy on the devices Asuka did have- unwieldy, prehistoric things, but hackable none-the-less. Conversation was also shared, on breaks, over the cozy kitchen table with sodas and sandwiches.
Even after he found the proof that Asuka’s digimon was still alive, the Adamantine continued to invite him. There was something about his easy way of conversation and his way of looking you in the eye when he spoke to you. He was guarded about his conversations. He claimed he had no family. But he was lying about fewer things than the Adamantine was.
The meetings became a thrill to the Adamantine. He liked to trace just how much the two of them lied to each other- and he was the only one who was aware of all the dishonestly being spoken. It was like they were both two people- Mr. Golden and this untethered man, Tenma. perfect versions of each one, without the baggage that came with their real lives.
He almost didn’t want to move on with the next most logical part of his plan, but a good scientist didn’t leave an opportunity on the table for the sake of ‘fun’. If nothing else, the mere knowledge of how Asuka had made his digimon disappear was enough to galvanize him. Because it was Sawashiro. Sawashiro had hidden the digimon.
Why did it always come back to him?
It was bad enough that people were always comparing him to Kyo Sawashiro- even Chairman Wong. “Not bad, Kanada, but Sawashiro was perfect. Will you ever be perfect, like him?”
The Blazing treated him with outright disgust. The Abyssal followed the Blazing's lead. The Surging underestimated him. The Verdant looked down on him. All that work to reach the pinnacle of the cleaner world, and no one could be impressed, just because some pretty boy loose cannon had gotten to that same place, first.
He’d gotten to Asuka first, too. When Mr. Golden snuck in a reference to the man, Asuka’s shoulders were relaxed and he shrugged, and said he had never heard the name. But his eyes betrayed him- the excitement that flashed over them, and his fingers gripped more tightly to the glass of soda.
It wasn’t fair. Such a lovely toy the Adamantine had found. No- a treasure. Sawashiro had gotten his greasy hands even on Tenma before the Adamantine. Why did everything in his life have to be tainted by the man? Sawashiro wasn’t impressive. He’d given up on a life of luxury- and for what?
But Sawashiro was also ignoring the Treasure at the moment. So the Adamantine would just have to take it for himself. Asuka really was perfect- in so, so many ways. An owner with a colored e-pulse who didn’t interact with his own digimon, nor did he waste his e-pulse using the sapotamas for daily tasks. All of his e-pulse was constantly stored in his body. Pristine.
He just might prove the Adamantine’s hypothesis.