#//: -staring off into the distance- I miss Bokomon . . .

[dragonandtiger]

Digimon 00 - Fragments - 25

“Huh,” FlaWizarmon said as he scratched at his head, staring downward from his cliffside vantage point. “Well, that’s… certainly different.”

The view before the Chosen Children and their entourage was that of a massive carnival, complete with brightly colored tents, food stands, a ferris wheel, and even a roller coaster. It was a sight that would’ve normally filled a child with absolute joy.

And yet, the assembled children felt nothing but apprehension.

“Is this really… an enemy stronghold?” Ken asked hesitantly. Even from the distance, he could faintly see Digimon scurrying about, enjoying the various facilities.

“Different strokes for different folks, dontcha know,” FlaWizarmon said with a shrug. “Some Digimon want big palaces or fortresses, others want their own personal paradise.” He reached up to tug on the brim of his hat. “Either way, they still intend to kill ya, if given the chance.”

“What a disgusting display of debauchery,” Mystimon said, with a grunt. “What sort of fool would be lead astray from the Holy Beasts by flashing lights and silly music?”

Witchmon gestured about the carnival before them. “Offhand, I’d say about at least a hundred, if not more, given the size of this crowd.”

Ryo rubbed the back of his head as apprehension crawled beneath his skin. He had no words to explain why the carnival made him feel so uneasy - it didn’t seem much different than amusement parks he had been to in the past - but there was something about it that left him on edge.

Keiko noticed Ryo’s unease and cocked her head slightly. “Don’t worry. Past appearances, this place isn’t any different than any other Digimon stronghold or village.”

Ryo failed not to flinch. “Yeah, right. I… I guess I just find it kind of creepy that an evil Digimon picked an amusement park as a base. These places are supposed to be fun and not… you know.”

Keiko shrugged, completely unfazed by the concept of a corrupted carnival. “They might have a theme going depending on what kind of Digimon they are, or they think it’s a good way to trick Digimon into dropping their guard. Who knows? At least it’s not a nursery or a school this time.”

A bead of sweat trickled down the back of Ryo’s neck. “I guess that’s true.”

“Welp, no point in standin’ ‘round here!” FlaWizarmon said as he adjusted his hat. “Shall we get goin’? This fight ain’t gonna happen on its own!”

The gathered Chosen Children glanced at each other before giving a small nod, confirming their determination to proceed forward. Keiko led the way with Nyamon close on her heels while Ryo and Leomon took up the middle with the rest of the fighters. Ken walked in the back with Neemon and Bokomon, holding Wormmon closely to his chest.

Ken stared at Keiko and Ryo’s backs as they strode far ahead of him, his feelings mixed. He couldn’t shake the sense that he belonged up at the front with the other Chosen, but he knew that doing so would only endanger himself. Grimacing, he looked down at Wormmon, who kept a sharp eye out for danger.

“If I wasn’t such a terrible Chosen, I wouldn’t be holding Wormmon back…,” Ken thought before he looked away with a sigh. “I wouldn’t be holding everyone back.”

The Chosen arrived at the carnival grounds without much trouble. Outside of the occasional glance from the gathered Digimon as they enjoyed the various entertainment and games, no one made an effort to harass the group. Of course, the Chosen knew better than to expect such good fortune to continue as they made their way into the depths of the whimsical stronghold.

Something bad was going to happen; it was just a matter of when.

As Ken followed after the others, a flash of movement caught his attention among the colorful tents. He turned his head just enough to get a glimpse of the source. It was none other than Kyoumon.

The puppet Digimon’s patchwork body blended in quite well with the carnival tents as he stalked after the group, doing his best to be sneaky - though, if Ken had been able to see him, his sneaking skills weren’t much to speak of.

Ken frowned before he glanced at the others, noting that no one else seemed to have spotted their stalker. With that revelation, he made a point not to look back in Kyoumon’s direction, lest he give the puppet away.

Ken wasn’t about to do anything and risk Keiko making good on her threat.

“Well, then,” FlaWizarmon said as he placed his hands on his hips. “I reckon it’s about time, dontcha think?” He turned to flash Witchmon a grin.

“I agree,” Witchmon said, returning the smile. “It’s about time.”

“About time for what?” Ryo asked as he turned to stare at the duo.

“For our ambush, of course~!” FlaWizarmon said, brightly.

Ryo’s eyebrows shot straight up. “What!? Ambush-?!”

“Welcome to my Carnival, boys and girls~!” a voice boomed.

A new Digimon appeared, looking to be a strange humanoid clown. He wore green spandex pants, a white spandex chest with green trim underneath a purple jacket with green markings and a split down the back to make twintails, which in turn were tipped with small golden bells that tingled with each motion. Resting on his head was a split jester’s cap, a golden crown with black twintails on top with a red stripe running up the left side with a yellow crescent moon charm on the tip while a blue along the opposite right to end with a blue star charm. Two black ribbons came out the back of the hat, fluttering about so that their tipped bells twinkled along with his jacket.

Tapping one of his long, curved black feet, the Digimon grinned with shark-like teeth before he pointed a white-gloved finger at the group. While his face looked human save for his long pointed ears, his face was painted white with black eyeliner leading to a black streak down either cheek and impossibly red lips.

“You’re just in time for the main event~!” the clown Digimon said, cheerfully. “Your deaths.” Several other Digimon stood around him, watching the group anxiously - including a plush-looking Panda with a long red scarf, a round gray opossum with red boots, gloves, and silly hat and a fistfull of sneering balloons that kept him airborne despite the logistics of it all, and a smaller more feminine looking jester with a purple jester’s cap and split red and black shirt whose entire lower body was replaced by a black orb covered in golden glowing lines.

Keiko stared at the Digimon for a moment before she let out a frustrated huff of air and rolled her eyes. “Of course.”

Nyamon’s ears canted back as she stared at the Digimon, then turned to FlaWizarmon. “It’s not really an ambush if it’s expected, you know.”

FlaWizarmon lifted a finger to his lips as he made a mock shushing sound.

“Jokermon! I should have known,” Mystimon said as he drew his sword, aiming it at the tall leader of the assembled Digimon. “Only a fool would ally himself with the enemy of the Holy Beasts!”

“Nice pun, dearie,” Witchmon snickered.

Mystimon blinked at that before he cast Witchmon a sidelong stare.

“You forget,” FlaWizarmon whispered, without actually attempting to keep his voice down. “He ain’t got a funny bone in his whole funny body. Any puns are pure accident, plain an’ simple.”

Witchmon let out a theatrical sigh. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Amateurs should leave the comedy acts to the professionals,” Jokermon said with a sweeping flourish of his right arm as he bowed, before he lifted his head to flash the Chosen Children a vicious grin. “Though I can’t deny your talent born of your naturally comedic existence.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Nyamon said as she stepped forward. “See if it stops me from sending you straight to the Dark World.”

“So,” Keiko drawled, “do you plan on monologuing what Millenniumon promised you, or do you just want to cut straight to your deletion?”

Jokermon’s smirk widened before he suddenly lifted his hands, aiming them outward at the group. “Hah!”

Keiko stood nonplussed and glared defiantly at Jokermon, the air darkening around her as she kept her fists clenched at her sides, ready. Nyamon, however, instantly noticed the bright light below their feet. She barely managed to cry out Keiko’s name in alarm before the light exploded into a circle of light that blinded the both of them.

“Keiko?!” Ryo gasped out, straining to see even as he shielded his eyes with his left arm. “Nyamon!”

“I-I can’t see-!” Ken blurted out as he stepped back, the light forcing him to look away as his eyes stung with pain.

The light lasted only a moment before it was gone, and with it not only Nyamon and Keiko but Jokermon as well.

“Where… where did they go!?” Ken asked anxiously as he looked around, trying to spy any sign that might answer his question.

“Huh,” FlaWizarmon said as he crossed his arms. “A teleporter spell.” He glanced over to Witchmon, who nodded in agreement. “Don’t see those much these days.”

Though Witchmon appeared calm, the back of her ghostly cat rankled up. “I hate copycats. We should teach that joker a lesson about using one of my best tricks against us.”

Ryo was in no mood for levity as he whipped his head around in a panic, his eyes dazzled with colorful spots from the intense light. “Keiko! Nyamon! Where are you?!”

“We have to find her!” Leomon shouted as he clenched his fists. “How far could that spell have taken her?”

“Hold it, hold it, hold it!” the opossum Digimon chirped as he floated upwards, kicking his feet. “What’s the hurry, yeah?”

“Don’t forget we’re here~!” the female jester agreed, with a giggle and a flirty wink of her left eye.

“You should be more worried about yourself!” the panda Digimon said as he stepped forward to shake a paw at the group. “Without Darkness to protect you, you-”

Pandamon was cut off by a sudden flash of steel that narrowly missed dissecting him, when Mystimon lunged forward with a scowl. The panda Digimon yelped as he scrambled back from the knight, with the other Digimon scurrying away to avoid a similar fate.

“Hm, hm, hm~!” Witchmon hummed in mock thoughtfulness as she pressed her fingertips together, her broom allowing her to loom high above the minions of Jokermon. “Is that so~?”

“I gotta admit,” FlaWizarmon drawled as he pulled the brim of his hat down. “It’s pretty damn hilarious that you lot think the only one you had to worry about was Lady Keiko.” He then lifted his hat just enough to flash his shark-like grin at the gawking Digimon. “Looks like school’s in, darlin’... and there’s gonna be learnin’.”

---

Mirrors. Mirrors and reflections and mirrors. That’s all there was to this place, just a maze marked with countless silver surfaces that reflected only Keiko and Nyamon and little else.

Keiko never cared much for mirrors. She could grudgingly admit their usefulness as a tool. She had certainly utilized them enough in the past. However, so many in one place reminded her of that past where mirrors played a key role in reflecting only dreams and ambitions that were never her own.

“We’re in the house of mirrors,” Nyamon remarked with a deadpan expression.

Keiko let out a frustrated breath as she considered their options. “Why do so many Digimon have to make a game out of toying with captured prey before trying to delete them?”

Nyamon shrugged. “Sadism, boredom, or both. Your pick.”

Keiko nodded grimly as she clenched her fists painfully tight. She was in no mood to be someone’s toy. Not ever again. “Nyamon, just smash thro-”

“Daughter.”

That voice. That woman’s voice. However many years it had been since she last heard it, Keiko could never erase the memory of it. Her body instinctively froze, muscles locking up so tight they quaked. She couldn’t move; she could scarcely breathe.

Nyamon stared at Keiko in confusion before she quickly glanced about. Her eyes drifted across the mirrors and their distorted reflections - some showing the two of them as ridiculously tall or impossibly short, others squashed or pulled wide to unrealistic proportions. But among them was a large mirror that reflected an entirely different vision, not of Keiko and Nyamon but a woman that the Digimon had never seen before. It was a mature, pale Japanese woman expertly adorned in makeup and a kimono of rich colors and nature patterns. Her black hair was immaculately tied up in a bun pierced by kanzashi hairpins and although she smiled with her painted lips, her narrow dark, dark red eyes were those of a hunter assessing its captured prey.

Despite not knowing the woman, a sharp sense of hatred filled Nyamon’s heart as the reflection glared down at them, as if they were insects. The hatred only grew as she heard Keiko let out the tiniest, quaking whisper she had ever heard from her partner.

“M-Mother…”

Nyamon’s ears canted back as she stared at Keiko with wide eyes before she whirled to face the reflection, her lips curling up to bare her teeth. “What!?”

Still smiling, the woman in the mirror fixed her gaze entirely on Keiko. Although short in stature for an adult, she still managed to tower over the little girl and Digimon before her. When she spoke, her voice was melodious and demure, but there was an edge of frozen steel beneath the glimmering surface.

“Did you really think you could leave your mother?” she asked. “It’s time to come home now, Daughter.”

Keiko shook her head in mute, horrified denial as she forced a rigid leg to take her a trembling step backward, but she couldn’t dare turn her gaze away from that woman. A raspy sound escaped her throat, a terrified squeak that came three times before she could finally eke out a single word. “N-no!”

“Keiko!” Nyamon said as she glanced back at her partner. “It’s a trick! It’s just a mirror!” Even as she said the words, she somehow couldn’t fully tear her eyes away from the woman in the mirror. Something about her set all her instincts on edge, as if there was truly a foe about to pounce.

Keiko couldn’t look away from the woman, but her partner’s voice kept her grounded before she could retreat further. With desperately grasping hands, she reached for Nyamon, who snatched them up immediately in a firm, but reassuring grip that couldn’t quite erase the shaking that ran through her body. She tried again to speak, to gather up the courage she gained from her years as an agent of darkness, but before that woman, she felt utterly exposed and powerless.

The woman sneered, finally focusing on Nyamon. “What a miserable creature you’ve conjured up, Daughter. It looks just like that wretched doll.” Her smile returned, a sharp slice that hinted at pearly white teeth as she returned her gaze to Keiko. “You still can’t let them go, can you? Even knowing that they’ll never want to see you again after you sent the police for them when you abandoned them as well?”

“That wasn’t me!” Keiko shrieked, voice cracking shrill as wetness stung the edges of her eyes. “You were the one who called the police! I just… I…”

“Ran away,” the woman said smoothly. “You betrayed them just as you betrayed me, Daughter.” She extended an arm and her long, pale fingers slid through the surface of the mirror, reaching out for Keiko. “However, unlike them, I will forgive you so long as you return to me like an obedient child, my little doll. As you always do in the end.”

Nyamon grit her teeth as her hackles raised along her neck. “You’re lucky you’re just a reflection - an illusion. But illusion or not, you will be silent!”

The woman ignored Nyamon as her hand fully emerged from the mirror, her long painted nails almost snatching the fabric of her daughter’s dress.

Keiko shrieked at the near touch and released her partner as fear took over. She scrambled back as though burned by an open flame, but there was little space in the maze passages to retreat. Even as she slammed back against another mirror hard enough to create a spiderweb of cracks behind her, she scarcely noticed, as could only see her mother coming for her like in her most terrible nightmares.

That fearful scream set Nyamon off. With a howl of rage she lunged at the illusion of her mother’s tormentor, slicing her claws downward to neatly severing the hand from its wrist.

While the amputation was bloodless, crimson splattered across the surface of the mirror, especially the woman’s face, and she screamed, screamed like that night that Keiko could not forget. It sent the Chosen of Darkness back to that night, full of blood and fear and desperation.

Nyamon about, planting her foot through the bloody apparition’s stomach, and by extension the mirror itself, shattering both to destroy the illusion once and for all. Razor sharp bits of mirror flew backwards as the mirror crumbled and dissolved into bits of data.

But the damage was done. Keiko sunk to her knees, eyes wide but unseeing, as the memory of that night overtook her.

“Tsk,” came a clucking sound, in Jokermon’s voice no less. Nyamon looked about for the clown Digimon to no avail, fury naked on her face. “Destroying another’s property… you Chosen Digimon have no manners. Fortunately, I can fix that~!”

A new mirror appeared to replace the one Nyamon destroyed, though mercifully it reflected nothing but her and Keiko, as well as the cracks repairing in the mirror the Chosen of Darkness damaged.

“You!” The words came out like a snarl as Nyamon continued to whip about, searching for any sign of her opponent, her fur bristled from her neck all the way to her tail. “I’ll destroy you!”

“Temper, temper~!” Jokermon said as a reflection of him appeared in the place where that woman had been, hopping into the scene like a cartoon character. His expression, filled with glee, turned into a mockery of admonishment with pursed lips as he waggled finger at Nyamon. “You talk quite big, but you won’t get very far in that form... and your precious partner is in no condition to help you, now is she?”

“I don’t need to evolve to tear you apart!” Nyamon hissed, her tail lashing, as she glared at the reflection of Jokermon. “Show yourself!”

“Very well~!” came the playful retort and a sudden motion caught Nyamon’s attention just before Jokermon emerged from the newly repaired mirror behind the distraught Keiko, scythe raised to strike her. “As you wish~!”

Nyamon knew the attack was coming, but saw it too late. “Kei-!”

“Kaaaabong!” Was the only warning Jokermon got before a guitar rudely impacted with his head. Jokermon flew back into a mirror as Kyoumon landed beside Keiko, holding his guitar threateningly. “Jokermon needs to back off from Keiko! Or else!”

“K… Kyoumon?” Nyamon murmured, stunned.

Jokermon got to his feet, his amusement swiftly replaced with murderous irritation. He glared at Kyoumon before he moved in swiftly, kicking the puppet Digimon’s guitar away effortlessly before stomping his foot down on Kyoumon’s stomach, pinning him to the floor.

Kyoumon let out a squeak before he gagged as Jokermon dug his heel into Kyoumon’s stomach, the puppet Digimon’s little paws grasping uselessly against the larger Digimon’s silly shoes.

“If you want to die that badly,” Jokermon drawled as he leaned down to loom over Kyoumon. “Then I-”

Darkness, pure and terrible pierced through Jokermon’s midsection, blowing a hole through his body and everything behind him - including the wall. His fragments burst into a spray of data before the rest of his body too dissolved, along with the data of the damaged scenery around him.

Kyoumon froze, his expression blank. He didn’t move from his position on the floor, staring at where Jokermon had been before he turned his gaze to look at the source of the darkness - Keiko.

Keiko stood in shadow, the light barely able to show the outline of her trembling fist or reflect off the tears glistening on her cheeks. Behind her was the faint shadow of something bigger, someone with grand wings and an anger that rivaled her own.

“Damn. You. To. Hell.” Keiko hissed through painfully gritted teeth.

Nyamon glanced to her partner, her ears drooping, before she moved over to place her paw on her partner’s arm gently. “Keiko…”

Keiko flinched at the touch, but did her best to relax, as the darkness enshrouding her waned and the echo of Narakumon faded away from Kyoumon’s view. A beat later, she pulled Nyamon to her and hugged her partner fiercely. It took her nearly a minute to eventually address Kyoumon, though she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

“Thank you, Kyoumon,” she said quietly, her voice thick with emotion and tears. “I’m sorry… for what I said before.”

Kyoumon finally dared to get up from his position on the floor. He stared at Keiko for a moment before a happy blush appeared on his face, his tail wagging so that the bells jingled noisily behind him. “Hee hee hee...”

As light filtered in through the hole in the wall, so too did the sound of voices, including one immediately recognizable as Ken’s. “Keiko!?”

Nyamon glanced over Keiko’s shoulder to the hole just in time to see Ken cautiously peering in past the splintered wood, holding Wormmon closely.

“K-Keiko! Are you okay!?” Ken asked, anxiously. He paused when he saw the puppet Digimon, his eyes widening. “A-and Kyoumon, too!?”

“Kyoumon didn’t do nothing!” Kyoumon said, quickly raising his paws up to ward off further scolding or punishment. “Promise, promise!”

“Well, that’s one way to make an entrance - an’ an exit,” FlaWizarmon said as he approached Ken to peer inside, then immediately stopped when his eyes fell on the Chosen of Darkness. All levity disappeared from his face in an instant. “Lady Keiko?”

“Oh dear,” Witchmon whispered as her ghostly cat let out a mournful howl.

Keiko shifted so that the others wouldn’t see the tears flowing down her cheeks. Though she tried to wipe her tears away with the back of her sleeve, more came to replace them. “I’m fine.”

Ryo saw through the lie instantly and moved closer to Keiko as his worry grew. “What’s wrong?”

Ken furrowed his brow in concern and made to follow, only to hesitate after a step. He grimaced before he held Wormmon tight, stepping back. Given what happened the last time he tried to comfort Keiko, he imagined that he was the last person she wanted anything from.

“Has something happened?” Panjamon asked as he came to stand beside Ryo, his brow furrowed.

“I just…” Keiko faltered, resenting the emotion that she couldn’t quite hide from her ragged voice and tried again to stifle it. “…saw a ghost.”

“A ghost?” Mystimon asked as he approached, sheathing his blade. “What-”

“Mind yer business,” FlaWizarmon said, his sharp tone causing the knight to turn and stare at the scarecrow Digimon. FlaWizarmon ignored the stare as he gingerly stepped in through the hole so that he could approach the Chosen of Darkness, blocking her from the others’ view. “We took care of business outside, so what say we call it a day from huntin’ ol’ Millie and head back to Crystal Tower?”

Keiko nodded, refusing to look back at the others as she buried her face against the back of Nyamon’s head.

“Lady Keiko, how about I take you on ahead?” Witchmon said as she glided to Keiko’s side and gave a playful wink despite how she couldn’t see the Chosen of Darkness’ face past a wall of black hair. “Let’s let the boys finish up here with chastising the minions for being bad Digimon.”

Keiko nodded again, not trusting her voice not to betray her once more. She could still feel tremors running through her body as the cracks in her armor threatened to break down completely.

A moment later, Witchmon’s cloak encircled Keiko and Nyamon, teleporting them away from the group once more.

----

Narakumon and Tenraimon were already waiting in Narakumon’s temple when Witchmon arrived with the girls. Both were in their smaller, more human forms, which allowed them to better interact with the human child than their true forms would have.

And interact, they most certainly did. As soon as Keiko appeared with the Digimon, Narakumon was on the move. He crossed the distance swiftly, not even looking at Witchmon before he reached down to snatch his Chosen Child into his arms. Tenraimon wasn’t far behind, and she soon joined the embrace, even if it meant entangling her arms with that of her dark counterpart.

Now, back with her parents, her true parents, Keiko finally allowed herself to break down and cry. “Papa! Mama!”

“We’re here, Keiko,” Tenraimon said gently as she stroked Keiko’s hair. “We’ll always be here for you.”

“You’re safe,” Narakumon said, his voice gruff. “I won’t let anything happen to you, ever again.”

Keiko sniffled and buried her face in Narakumon’s chest as she let out her overflowing emotions in a wail filled with fear and regret.

Witchmon tipped her hat to the family and silently disappeared, leaving the DigiGods to comfort their adopted daughter in peace.

----

Keiko dressed in blood the day she arrived in the Digital World. Although the angel avatar of Light had healed her wounds, the red stains on her once pure white nightgown remained.

She was not surprised when the angels took her to the underworld to be judged by the god of death. Even when kneeling before a massive dark god that towered over her tall as a building she did little more than hug the living plush cat in her arms that cooed soothingly to her with comforting words that failed to reach her ears.

Keiko knew she was dead. Now it was time to be judged for her sins.

“So,” the grand god Narakumon said, his voice rumbling like thunder. “You are ‘my’ Chosen Child… the Chosen of Darkness.”

Keiko said nothing. She didn’t understand what the god was telling her. Even the gentle platitudes of Plushmon barely registered. Guilt was a molten ball of lead in her gut, crushing her fear under the overwhelming weight of her sins.

When the child remained silent, didn’t even bother to look at him, Narakumon grew irritated and impatient. “Well?” His voice boomed throughout his temple. “Do you have nothing to say to me?”

“I’m evil, aren’t I?”

Keiko’s voice was tiny, insignificant compared to Narakumon’s - a drop of rain when compared to the crack of a thunderbolt. Even still, Narakumon heard it clearly.

And was enraged.

“Evil?” Narakumon repeated, a sharp edge to his tone. “That is what you say to me!? You think me evil? Because I am Darkness, I suppose? Is that how you think of me!?”

The words, though overwhelming in their enormity and ferocity, failed to reach Keiko. Though her eyes were on Narakumon, she couldn’t truly see him. Even in the Digital World, she had not escaped the hotel room.

“I killed… Mother.”

Narakumon faltered, the wind taken out of his tantrum. He had been prepared for an argument on the nature of darkness and evil, one that he had many times before, but the child’s words immediately disrupted the pattern and left him off balance. “...What?”

“Mother,” Keiko repeated. “I killed Mother.” Despite the weakness of a voice so brittle it bordered on breaking, she couldn’t stop speaking after she began her terrible confession. “I stabbed her. I wanted to stab her. I kept stabbing her. I couldn’t stop. Now she’s dead. I wanted to kill Mother. I killed her. I’m evil.”

Narakumon was silent for several moments as he stared down at the Chosen of Darkness, his expression blank. After a moment, he glanced towards Zennyu, who gave a small shake of his his head before clicking his pen. The DigiGod frowned before he turned his attention to Keiko. Another moment passed before he moved to kneel down in front of Keiko to get a little bit closer to such a tiny child, ignoring the way Plushmon growled warningly at him.

Keiko’s watery red eyes focused on Narakumon as the giant moved in closer to her. “I’m going to suffer in Hell for eternity now, aren’t I? It’s what I deserve.”

The terrible silence between them lingered for only a moment.

“No,” Narakumon said, his voice much softer than it had been before. “You will not.”

A flicker of confusion pierced through the guilt and Keiko furrowed her brow. “How do you know?”

“Because I am the DigiGod of Death,” Narakumon replied.

“Digi...God?” Keiko repeated slowly.

“Yes,” Narakumon said. “And my word is law.”

Keiko was silent as she looked at Narakumon, truly looked at him for the first time. “I… I called the oni to take me away… because I really am an evil girl. I don’t deserve to be happy. Mother told me that, and I showed her she was right, and… I… I…” She trailed off with a sob, tears falling free. “Why don’t you hate me too?!”

“Because you are not evil,” Narakumon said. “There are many in this world who don’t understand what true evil is, and they use it to harm those who don’t deserve it. Like you. Like… me.”

Keiko sniffled, blinking her watery eyes hard so that she could see Narakumon through her tears. “But… you’re not evil. You… even though I killed Mother, you’re not sending me to Hell. I don’t deser-”

“Enough,” Narakumon said with a wave of his hand, taking care not to raise his voice this time. He hesitated before lightly touching the very tip of his index finger atop Keiko’s head, delicately stroking most of the tiny girl’s scalp. “I’ll hear no more talk of being evil. You’re not evil. You’re my Chosen Child, and that means you were chosen to keep our world and everyone who lives in it safe. That is not evil.”

Keiko stared at Narakumon with wide, disbelieving eyes. Finally, she could truly hear Plushmon purring reassurances in her ear, and she pulled her partner close as she leaned into the DigiGod’s warm touch.