Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The pain had finally stopped.

It was a sudden and jarring change, but far from unwelcome. Given the choice between persistent agony and total numbness, Shuuji preferred the lack of feeling.

For a moment, he thought he might have died. As ridiculous as the idea was (it wasn't like the dead could think, much less acknowledge that they were no longer alive), excruciating pain did not naturally vanish in the flip of a switch. He couldn't be certain — coming down from... whatever that was, his memories were still a jumbled, blurry mess of fear, stress, and pain — but somewhere within that fog of memory he could recall a moment where he stopped breathing. A moment where he couldn't breathe.

And yet the air smelled sweet.

Each breath was sharp and quick, but he was breathing nonetheless. His pulse pounded just as fast in his ears, providing a soundtrack to ground him back in reality. For a while he was still, recollecting himself in the darkness behind his eyelids. Slowly he began to notice other little sensations: the heat of the sun, the firm grassy ground beneath him, a slight breeze; the rustle of leaves. All far more pleasant than that all-consuming burn that had overwhelmed his every sense just moments ago.

Although he still couldn't recall what had left him in that state, it was all over now. Whatever had happened, he survived it. Despite everything, he was still alive.

Alive and... on the ground. Prone. Outside. In a world full of monsters-!

Shuuji jolted awake, scrambling to his feet. Not only was he outside, but he was out in the open too — completely exposed! It was a miracle that nothing had noticed his unconscious body and either finished him off or dragged him away to some sacrificial ritual site! Either he got extremely lucky or one of his juniors was keeping watch nearby. Given his track record, the latter was far more likely.

He glanced around the clearing, but saw no signs of man nor monster (friendly or otherwise) from where he stood. Despite this, he had an unshakable feeling that something was nearby, watching him from the shadows. This sense of danger refused to leave, even though all he could see was open air and the surrounding foliage.

Very large surrounding foliage.

The fruitless search ground to a halt as Shuuji fully processed his surroundings. The assortment of plants seemed to match those that grew near the shrine, but they were all much more overgrown. Patches of grass grew up to his chest. Spider lilies stood tall like young, oddly shaped trees. Even the actual trees seemed to tower much higher than they had before.

Shuuji frowned. Even dismissing the giant plants (which was hard enough), something else was bothering him: how did he end up this deep in the forest to begin with? Hadn't he been at the school...? No, no — he had been at the school, but he left with the others that morning. Out on that fool's errand to try to negotiate with the enemy, even after his repeated insistence that doing so would be pointless and suicidal. They were planning to travel through the waterway under the dam... but wasn't that in the other direction from the shrine? Sure, the others' disrespect and recklessness had been especially grating today, but he still wouldn't have led them the wrong way — this world was far too dangerous for him to do something so stupidly spiteful. And where were they anyway?

While his unease grew, the nagging sense of danger remained constant. It continued to pulse in his skull as he tried to make sense of the situation, insisting despite all evidence to the contrary that there had to be something in the oversized bushes nearby, waiting for its moment to strike. No, two somethings! More than- what was that!?

The faint snapping of twigs may as well have been a gunshot as far as his frazzled nerves were concerned. Startled, he immediately whirled towa-

With a yelp that sounded embarrassingly close to the squeal of a dog's toy, Shuuji jumped back. Something just brushed past him — something big and alive!

Careful to avoid further sudden movements, he turned to search for the culprit. All that greeted him was the open air.

This did nothing to temper his reignited panic.

An invisible monster? Or maybe one that was so fast it could rush by without being noticed? Neither option was impossible, but they weren't probable either. Every monster he knew that could turn invisible only did so when closing in for the kill, and yet, despite the culprit having come close enough to touch him, he was still very much alive. Meanwhile, if something had sped past, even if it kept to his blind spots he would've noticed something, be it the sound of running paws or the gust of wind left in its wake.

...He couldn't have imagined it, could he? Nights had been rough ever since he was dragged into this world; perhaps his exhaustion finally caught up with him? As unappealing as it was to think, he couldn't deny the possibility that he was just suffering from some sleep-deprived hallucinations (assuming he hadn't just "woke up" into another dream). It would explain a lot about the current situation as well: the unexpected location, the oddly-sized plants, the laughter from the nearby undergrowth-

He could hear his paranoia cheer in validation.

"Hey!" he called out, cringing at how shrill with fear that one word sounded. With a hard swallow to clear his throat and tame his nerves, he added "Is someone there?"

Not only was his pitch still far too high, the culprit didn't respond directly. Instead, there was further snapping of twigs as another voice tried in vain to shush the laughter, warning that it'll "ruin the ambush." As if that would make him forget he heard them.

Somehow that was more insulting than being openly laughed at.

"I can hear you." Keeping his eyes trained on the noisy foliage, Shuuji took a cautious step back. If anyone else was around, now would be a great time for them to step in. Even Lopmon, as weak as he was, could've provided a bluff to buy time to escape. Of all times for that clingy rabbit to detach from his hip...

After some brief hesitation, a pair of scruffy grey monsters emerged from the bushes; one still chuckling as he followed the other.

"So much for the element of surprise," said the one in front, smirking in spite of his words.

"I couldn't help it," the other retorted, wiping away a tear. "Didja hear that squeak?"

Gazimon. A short eternity ago, before he and Saki managed to rejoin the others, those mammalian monsters had been a major menace. After encountering man-eating spiders, an overmuscled cyclops, and giant wolves, their intimidation levels had dropped immensely. If anything, they were the schoolyard delinquents of these creatures: annoying, cruel, and could pack a nasty punch, but usually not particularly threatening. That said, they also usually weren't taller than him.

Between the giant gazimon and the oversized plants, Shuuji was beginning to feel like someone slipped him a drink from Wonderland.

The leading gazimon seemed to notice his discomfort. He sent a lopsided grin towards his companion, starting the giggles anew. Emboldened by the laughter, he rose to his hind legs and extended his arms in an exaggeratedly placating pose. "Easy, kid. We ain't here for a fight."

"Yet," his companion added between snickers, just loud enough to earn a glare from the other.

"There won't be a fight," the first gazimon repeated. "We're just gonna have us a little chat, then we'll let you go back to jumping at your own shadow or... whatever the hell that was." With a scoff, he crossed his arms. "First off, it ain't often that we see your sort in these parts. Mind explaining what you're doing here?"

That was certainly the question, and the answer should've been easy. Shuuji knew he had been traveling with the others towards the dam. He was pretty sure they all made it to the gate...

Right, of course they did; it's where the mutiny was discussed. There had been obvious discontent on the way there, but by the time they reached the dam it had reached a boiling point. Some of the kids started talking about abandoning him, he rushed into the passageway before they had the chance to do so, and after that...

There was... something in there. Or someone? He could remember his father berating him for- n-no, that was last night's nightmare; Father wasn't there. But there was a fog that filled to the top of the tunnels. ...Or maybe he was thinking of smoke? Gas?

With growing dread, Shuuji realized he didn't have a clear answer to such a simple question. How couldn't he remember!? They couldn't have left the school more than a few hours ago! Okay, sure, maybe he'd been stewing in the morning's frustrations and everything else that had been going wrong lately, but he shouldn't have been wrapped in it all to the point of obliviousness!

Sickle-like claws tapped rhythmically against the gazimon's elbow as his gaze narrowed. The message was clear: Shuuji was taking too long to respond. Struggling to think of anything better, he fell on the obvious: "Waking up?"

If nothing else, it got a snicker from the flanking gazimon (not that it seemed difficult to set him off). The questioner was less amused.

"Adorable." The gazimon took a step closer and leered down at him. Despite their height difference being just a few centimeters, the beast's presence was looming. "Before then. Why are you here?"

Wasn't enough; of course it wouldn't be. At most, it bought him a few more seconds. They got to the waterway, went inside... and he was still blanking on anything else! He figured there was probably a monster of some sort; couldn't walk five steps out here without tripping over another one. And given the miraculously vanishing pain that had penetrated his unconsciousness...

"Something ambushed me; it must have left me here."

Even though Shuuji considered it the most logical explanation, the interrogating gazimon seemed skeptical. "I see..." He looked him up and down with scrutiny. "You're saying you were attacked."

"He don't look injured t' me." Shuuji startled at the sudden proximity of the other gazimon's voice. Turning, he found him studying his body the way a wolf judges a dying deer. Upon meeting his gaze, he cracked a smile and leaned away, feigning innocence.

"Sure don't," the lead gazimon agreed, right before he grabbed Shuuji's... something.

At first he thought it was his arm — it certainly extended out like one — but when he moved to jerk it free there was no resistance. Confused, he looked down at the limb in question.

And then his brain shut down.

Pink, brown, and stubby; less a hand than a dexterous paw. That was not his hand — definitely not — but it was still far too familiar. He gave his fingers an experimental twitch. Blunt claws mirrored the movement.

What.

Numbly, he looked back towards the lead gazimon. He was scrutinizing a limp, scarflike appendage that matched the coloration of those pseudo-hands. When he noticed Shuuji's gaze, he smirked.

"Must be a fast healer," he said, flicking it back into his face.

Shuuji let it hit him, following the momentum to the ground. It wasn't particularly heavy nor was the toss forceful, but he was so deep in shock that a stiff breeze could've knocked him off his(?) feet. Not that it mattered; it wasn't a far fall.

The thing hung limp across his face, filling his vision with brown. A hand raised, almost mechanically, to remove it. He could feel it, both in his grasp and being grasped-!

Around this point, his brain reconnected. All the pieces of the puzzle had come together, and it was not a pleasant image.

How... WHAT!?

He dropped the ear as though it caught fire, scrambling back with a yelp. "What is this!?" he shrieked, cringing from both the screechy pitch and from realizing just how familiar his unfamiliar voice actually was.

"An ear?" One of the gazimon provided. Shuuji didn't register which, too taken aback by his... not-self. Between the coloration and the compact, plushlike proportions, he looked just like a lopmon!

It answered some questions while begging dozens more.

He brought a hand to his head for some form of stability. Any that could've been provided was ruined by a sharper than usual grip. "What the hell is going on?" he asked in a strangled whisper.

"Sheesh, kid." The lead gazimon's hands went to his hips. "Bit of an overreaction, ain't it?"

"And delayed," the other added with a snicker.

An overreaction!? Easy for him to say! It was natural for these monsters' bodies to twist into new and unrecognizable forms, but the key word there was "monsters!" Last Shuuji had checked, he was human! He always had been! Outside of the realm of fiction, humans didn't change species in their sleep!

Unless, of course, he hadn't woken up yet...?

Oh. Oh! That explained it! This was just another nightmare! They've all been obnoxiously vivid and frequent lately, and with how much this world was a waking nightmare in and of itself, the border between dream and reality had been growing harder to recognize. This was just another case of his subconscious waging war against him. It too recognized how much of himself could be seen in Lopmon (with how much that rabbit flaunted Shuuji's most shameful traits, how could anyone not notice?) and decided to make the connection more literal. With that logic, the only surprising thing about this nightmare was that he hadn't had one like this sooner.

"And how he's laughing," a gazimon helpfully commented. The action had surprised Shuuji as well. Maybe it was relief over the realization, or maybe the exhaustion was kicking in, but whatever the reason he just couldn't help himself. He supposed it was sort of funny; the same way that getting hit by a truck after escaping this hellhole would be. It was the kind of sick joke you had to laugh at, if only so you didn't break down screaming.

"Ya think maybe the ambush knocked something loose in his head?"

"You actually believe that garbage he was spewing?" The lead gazimon shook his head before turning back towards him, ears flat against his head. "Oi! You finished losing your mind yet, or d'ya need someone to knock some sense back into you?"

Shuuji's laughter was tapering off, but not because that figment commanded it. What did he care about their threats? They weren't real; none of this was!

"Oh, my mistake," Shuuji started, pulling himself back to his feet. "With how much your friend's been laughing this whole time, I thought it wouldn't be a problem if I joined in! But fine, let's get back to that 'garbage' you clearly care so much about!"

Hearing that voice snap back with such defiance only added to the dizzyingly surreal insanity of the situation. Between that and how taken aback both gazimon looked, it was nearly enough to set him off again.

"Yeah, I think he's lost it," the easily-amused gazimon reported in a stage whisper. "Assuming he's ever had it."

Oh, Shuuji has had it alright! He's had it with the monsters picking them off one by one! He's had it with how inept and powerless he's felt since arriving in this world! He's had it with the entirety of this trainwreck of a school trip! He's-!

A sharp pain sliced across his cheek.

"You found it yet?" the lead gazimon asked as though he hadn't just raked a claw down his face. "Or do you need further help?"

Even his companion seemed surprised, shooting his leader a look while he withdrew his paw. "Ain't it a bit early to start any of that?"

"Kid was getting hysterical," he said, squinting down at his claw before wiping it against his leg. "And I don't mean funny."

Shuuji touched his cheek. The sting was sobering, but didn't seem to be serious. There was definitely a scratch, but there were no signs of blood. Did these creatures even have blood...?

He shook the thought away. Appearances aside, he was human. Pain could sometimes be felt in dreams (he's pretty sure he read that somewhere...), but even if this wasn't just some lucid nightmare overstaying its welcome, the enemy was capable of casting illusions and other trickery. This is what came from foolishly walking up to their opposition's doorstep: it gave them the perfect chance to capture and torment them. He didn't know what they had to gain from making him think he was transformed — intimidation? confusion? — but there was no way it was true. It... It just couldn't be.

Still, that scratch returned him to reality, or at least the strange facsimile thereof. Whatever the truth of this situation was, the "gazimon" were willing and capable of hurting him if he got unruly. Until he had a full understanding of the situation, he should try to avoid angering them.

"I apologize for that outburst," he lied, dipping his head. "I have no idea what came over me."

The aggressive one studied him once more. He seemed dissatisfied by what he saw, but gave a stiff nod anyway. "I was going to ask what caused you to collapse like that," he said dryly. "But after that little episode, I think I got the idea. Sure hope it's not contagious..."

Shuuji kept his head low and submissive, taking in the new information. He collapsed? They saw him collapse? "Were you following me?"

"Not important." The gazimon gave a dismissive wave. "Also, we're the ones asking the questions here. The next one being, are you here alone, or should we be expecting any other long-eared loonies?"

His hands clenched at his side, too-sharp nails digging into his palms. That felt less like a question than an excuse to make a jab. Still, maybe he could use it to get more information. "Yes, I'm alone. Did you see anyone else?"

"What did I just say about questions?"

"I-It was part of my answer." Shuuji fought to keep his expression neutral. Too obvious; dial it back. "I wasn't sure if you saw how I looked before, so I wanted to make sure you didn't think I was someone else."

The flanking gazimon snapped to attention, giving Shuuji an odd look. The interrogator, meanwhile, just squinted in thought. "You were looking a lot more put together before passing out," he muttered. "Guess that sickness hadn't sunk in yet. Or those invisible wounds." He leveled Shuuji a sardonic glare. "Didn't spot any attackers either, so that excuse really ain't holding much water."

"Hey, some-!" Shuuji barely caught himself before saying "monsters." As apropos as the term was for these creatures, the majority tended to react poorly to the label. He knew "kemonogami" was the "correct" human term for their kind, but he couldn't recall what they called themselves. "S-Some can turn invisible. I didn't see anyone either, so whoever attacked me must be able to."

"You mean like the boss?" The gazimon laughed at the suggestion. "I can assure you that even when he can't be seen, his wounds are very visible. If he was your supposed attacker, we would not be speaking."

"Hey, Gazimon?" The other gazimon broke his unusual silence, gesturing to his superior. "I just thought of something."

"That's new," the lead muttered. He began to walk back to his companion before stopping to send Shuuji another look. "If I were you, I wouldn't try running. 'Course, if you wanna make this fun, I wouldn't complain."

"Wasn't planning to." He doubted he could get far anyway.

"Shame." With a smirk the gazimon went to huddle with the other, leaving Shuuji a brief reprieve and a moment to think.

Not that their conversation gave him much to work with.

If he were to accept their version of events, they had been following him for an "unimportant" amount of time and saw him collapse, but hadn't witnessed any changes outside of his behavior between then and when he came to. He could buy the collapsing — that pain from before was certainly intense enough to take him to the ground — and with how spotty his memory was, he couldn't wholly reject their claim that they found him wandering before then either. But that didn't mean they were being fully honest either — Shuuji didn't forget that they had discussed ambushing him earlier, and they haven't exactly been acting nonhostile since then. Perhaps while he was on his own in the waterway they were able to find him, knock him out, and set up this simulation as some way to gain information. Or just mess with him — either was possible and jury was out.

Maybe some of the others had been captured and subjected to similar scenarios? If so, their rescue would probably be prioritized. After all, they were the ones capable of evolving their partners, so they would actually be useful in breaking the others out. Which meant he'd probably be reached last. If at all.

(No, of course they'll come for him. Even if everyone was sick of him, they wouldn't just leave someone behind to die. He just needs to hold out until they can get to him. That was fine; he's gone through worse. He could handle this.)

He supposed in a roundabout way the gazimon's claim that only his behavior changed would make sense if they were in on the trick as well. An illusion wouldn't change the physical form underneath, only how he would perceive his own body. And how dizzying those perception differences were! None of his limbs felt right at all — if he had been unable to move his fingers and toes, he'd have assumed his arms and legs were ripped in half! And the less said about the "ears" the better. Ever since he noticed them, he had grown hypersensitive to every little motion they made and the way it felt when something touched them. He never realized someone could feel phantom limb sensations for a limb they never had before. He'd find it fascinating if it wasn't so unsettling.

A slightly too loud mutter of "changed" caused one of them to twitch, distracting him from his thoughts. Were the gazimon discussing the trick? Their mutters were fast and low, but Shuuji could catch a few terms.

"...attacked... maybe reverted? We should warn..."

"Seriously!? You... Cracked like an egg!"

"But what if?"

Nope. These guys were clueless and he was a fool to get his hopes up. Still, he didn't expect them to be that clueless! Why didn't the enemy at least give them context before setting all this up? Were they seriously as taken by this falsehood as their superiors assumed he'd be?

"Alright, we reached a decision!" the lead gazimon announced, returning from the huddle with a scowl. "We've decided that this has been a huge waste of time for everyone involved."

Oh, that didn't sound good...

"I for one would rather not waste any more of it. So, go. Get lost."

...What?

"You're just letting me go?"

"Like I said from the start, this was only a chat. And not a productive one." The head gazimon shrugged. "So, yes, you're free to go. I'd say it was a blast, but... no, it really wasn't."

Shuuji didn't move.

The gazimon's paw flicked in a shooing gesture. "Seriously, we're done. Go. Get out of here."

Shuuji didn't turn, but he did nod and begin to back away. Between the general hostility prior and the abrupt end of questioning, the situation couldn't have been more suspicious if there were flashing neon signs.

"This may stun you to know, but this IS our territory. You really need to leave and not come back."

He sure liked to talk! If the gazimon really wanted him gone, surely he'd be doing more to try to drive him off. As it was, he just continued yammering and staring at Shuuji as he continued backing away.

...Actually, he seemed to be staring past Shuuji...

Alarm bells were ringing, even before the gazimon repeated "Again, it was a blast..." with heavier emphasis. Shuuji's mistake was turning to look instead of breaking into a run.

He barely processed the attack: one minute he was standing, the next he was sprawled on the ground. Those damned ears were in full view, the right one still sparking and crackling with electricity. His throat burned, although he couldn't tell if it was from the electrical spray itself or the scream it tore out of him.

Maybe both. Most likely both.

The now-trio of gazimon had regrouped a short distance from his body. They seemed to assume he wasn't getting up anytime soon, considering they were now openly discussing what to do with him as though he wasn't there.

"I'm saying it ain't worth the effort to take 'im back."

"And I still say that if he reverted, it might be a good idea to keep him around. He could prove useful if brought back to his full strength."

"You really think this guy is some reverted powerhouse?" The lead gazimon scoffed, shooting Shuuji a scornful glance. "Just look at him! A single blast brought him down, and a sloppy one at that!" The glare was redirected at the newcomer responsible for the attack.

"It's not my fault someone took their sweet time giving the signal."

"But it is your fault for missing it!" He growled. "It. Was. A. Blast. When does anyone say that these days?" With a sigh he shook his head. "Anyway, as I was saying, not exactly 'warrior material' here."

Shuuji could give him that — he wouldn't stand a chance fighting against any of them. Even if this illusion was dispelled and he could fight as himself, he doubted he could manage against one gazimon once they pulled out their electricity, never mind three at once. Lopmon wasn't exactly "warrior material" either, but he at least knew how his body worked. With the illusion as realistic as it was, Shuuji was less capable than Lopmon would've been in this situation.

That thought stung worse than the residual electricity still racing through his body.

"So then, what now? We just gonna...?" The newcomer slid a claw across his throat.

"I'd feel bad just killing the kid," the giggly gazimon continued to argue.

His leader was less sympathetic. "Why? You heard how he was talking; saw how he was acting. Reverted or not, the kid's head is clearly broken. Death'd be a mercy by this point."

"Well, yeah, but his jumpiness is funny! You sure we can't keep 'im?"

"Why'd we need him for amusement; we already got you for a clown."

Laughter and protests did nothing to diminish the threat. As strange and surreal as the situation was, despite clinging to the admittedly withering hope that this was all in his head or at least less severe than it seemed, it didn't change the fact those claws felt real. That spray of electrical sparks felt real. He couldn't take their words lightly.

He thought back to the overwhelming pain that predated this situation. Although still unsure what had brought him into that near-death experience, he wasn't keen on experiencing another one, or worse, a complete one. He wasn't going to just lie here and die banking on a what-if, especially not to a couple of gazimon.

As they continued arguing possibilities, he ever so slightly shifted his gaze towards the treeline. If he started to run while they were distracted, then maybe he'd have enough of a head start to lose them. It was a massive "maybe", but he'd take the sliver of a possibility over a future of certain death or further torment.

Once the head gazimon snapped at yet another stupid comment, he took his chance.

Chapter Text

Since the days of Aesop, rabbits had been the icons of speed and agility. With that being true, if this was a lopmon's top speed, then they were clearly not rabbits. Shuuji theorized that they were closer to stuffed rabbits than the real animal — if teddy bears were beastly enough enough to count as kemonogami, the possibility was there. The speed of his retreat would've been outstanding for a typically inanimate plush toy, but as things stood it was nothing impressive. The gazimon would easily be able to overtake him if they cared to.

So why haven't they done so?

He had heard them call out just moments after reaching the undergrowth, but hadn't caught sight of any of them since beginning his sprint. Perhaps the tangle of plants was making it too difficult to reach him?

As though in answer to his question, a gazimon chose that moment to jump out from the brush ahead, swiping at and barely missing his legs.

"Don't'cha know it's rude to leave without saying goodbye?" the attacker — he wasn't sure which of the three; their voices and appearances were too similar — scolded in amusement.

"Look, I don't want to cause trouble-!" Another sharp-clawed swipe cut off Shuuji's words. Had it been a few millimeters closer, it would've cut off his nose as well.

"Great!" the gazimon chirped before his expression morphed into a sneer. "That makes one of us!"

His words were followed by a pounce. Too high; easily ducked under. The laughter that followed Shuuji as he continued to flee almost sounded playful.

The burn in his legs spread to his stomach. So that's why they hadn't caught him yet — this was nothing more than a game. He was just a toy to them; a source of entertainment they can chase and terrorize until his batteries were drained. Then and only then, when there was no more fun he could provide, would they tear him apart.

The more he pictured the scenario, the hotter his inner fire burned. After all the garbage that this world had thrown at him, he was not about to die from being ripped open by three mutts that weren't even taking this seriously! Especially not while he looked like this! That was NOT. HAPPENING!

Another gazimon leapt into his path. This time he didn't stop, only lowering his head and pressing on. The gazimon's wide eyes almost made his charge worth it, even if the end result sent them both tumbling.

Shuuji recovered first, but a sharp pain from the side of his head rooted him in place. A glance in that direction confirmed the cause: the gazimon was unwilling to separate their tangle and had hooked a claw into one of those oversized ears.

"Someone's getting feisty!" the gazimon teased. "What's the rush?" Without waiting for an answer, he painfully yanked Shuuji back to the ground. Before he could recover, the gazimon was on his chest. "Come on!" he laughed. "You can do better than that!"

Clearly he couldn't! Despite his best efforts to push the beast away, his much-stubbier arms were unable to do anything more than uselessly flail and scratch at the gazimon's pinning pair. After a couple nicks he sat back, leaving Shuuji unable to do even that.

Smirking, the gazimon had the gall to cross his arms and cast a look back into the underbrush. Even if the glance wasn't incredibly obvious, the returning sense of nearby danger let Shuuji know their audience had arrived. Well, that and the snickers provoked by his attacker's showboating.

The flames of frustration surged. It was so nice to know that his torment provided these monsters such joy and amusement! He attempted to retaliate by sitting into a headbutt, but was shoved back down with a forceful claw.

"Aw, are you giving up already?" the gazimon asked, more to his surroundings than Shuuji himself. "Without fighting back at all?"

"What do you think I've been trying to do!?" Shuuji snarled, although with his current voice he sounded more petulant than angry and he hated it!

If he didn't know any better, he might've believed that the gazimon's look was of actual pity. "Wow. That's... really sad." With an overly dramatic sigh and eyes glinting in cruel amusement, he drew back a claw. "Guess I'll need to show you the right way to strike!"

This was it: the brutal finale! He needed to do something! He couldn't do something! He was going to die if he did nothing, but nothing was all he could do! The burning frustration over his uselessness and terrible luck and the unfairness of this whole situation boiled over into a feeling of complete-

-coldness?

As the claw came down, the sudden chill surged with unbearable intensity, overwhelming and pushing aside all thought and reason in a roaring storm of Blazing Ice-!

Suddenly the weight on his chest was gone. After a shout of surprise and the cracking of wood, the noises of his surroundings disappeared as well.

A few meters away, the once-pinning gazimon lay on the ground in an unmoving heap. Shuuji could swear there was an indent in the tree trunk above the body — right where the condensed blast of frigid air had launched him.

The blast of air that just came from his mouth. The chill of which still coated the back of his throat in frost.

He... did that?

A part of him recognized that he should've taken the opportunity to run, but even as the other gazimon emerged and rushed to the side of their injured packmate, he was frozen in place. Frozen. Like that blast. From his mouth.

He did that. H-How did he-?

Move.

Blazing Ice — he wasn't sure whether he thought or said those words, but they rang familiar. During the few fights Lopmon hadn't spent cowering in a corner, he could remember him shrieking those same words. Just before unleashing an icy blast at an opponent. Just like he just did.

Move!

How did he do that? He shouldn't have been able to do that, and yet he could still feel the ice in the back of his throat. A shaky hand pressed against the base of his neck. Even on the outside it almost felt cold to the tou- where were his bones?

MOVE!

His fingers pressed in until he felt pain (but still no bone), then continued to push beyond that. Nothing was there! Why couldn't he feel anything!? Did monsters not-!? But he was human-! But the ice-! But he isn't-! But he is-! But he-!

But... he...

This... was real. Wasn't it.

A noise that sounded like a mix between a groan and a growl regained Shuuji's attention. The gazimon that had dropped was being brought back to his feet by one of his companions. The other stared at him. For once, something other than amusement glinted in those eyes — not quite anger, but just as dangerous.

Yes. Dangerous. He was in danger. Real danger. Because this was real. It was real and he needed to MOVE, DAMMIT!

That gazimon dropped to all fours. Shuuji broke into a run.

The atmosphere of the chase shifted after that. He hadn't seen a gazimon since the retaliation, although he could still sense them nearby. They seemed to be taking him seriously enough to stay out of sight, but were never far away — whenever he began to slow, one of them would fire an electric blast.

If he were to guess, they wanted to exhaust him before coming to finish him off. It was similar to when he was just their wind-up toy, but there was now more malice in their actions. They seemed more eager to punish him for daring to fight back than entertaining themselves.

Exhaustion did seem to be coming soon. His burning legs felt just about ready to crumble to ash. Letting them do so would be a death sentence, but he hadn't many other options. He could try hiding, but there was no point with them watching him so closely. Maybe he could climb a tree? No, not with limbs this tiny-

"Electric Stun Blast!"

Pivoting to the side, Shuuji avoided the brunt of the attack, although he still hissed as a few sparks caught the tip of an ear. He didn't have time to build an escape plan, he just needed to escape. Preferably while he still had coverage — the plants were thinning out, providing less and less protection from attacks. Even worse, he could hear the rush of water up ahead. They were chasing him to a river, cutting off possible routes even further. 

A fast-moving river from the sound of it. Which indicated rapids. Which would probably obscure anything under the waves.

...Yeah, he was desperate enough.

Digging into what remained of his stamina, Shuuji made a sprint for the water's edge. Judging by the shouts, the pursuers seemed to realize his plan.

"Where do you think you're going!?"

"You'd rather drown than play some more!? How cold!"

"We're not finished yet!"

"This way! This way!"

"You really think you can get away!?"

"Look out! Behind you!"

...Wait, that wasn't-

"Electric Stun Blast!"

His thoughts were derailed by a searing pain in his shoulder, followed closely by the all-enveloping embrace of cold water.

The good news was, just as he hoped, the river's current was fast. The bad news encompassed everything else: the gazimon's lucky parting shot leaving an arm unusably numb, his tiny working limbs being even less effective underwater than on land, the weight of those now-saturated ears throwing off his entire sense of balance, the disorientation of being tossed by the current, and, most pressingly, the inadequate amount of air in his lungs. 

Out of the frying pan, into the cooking pot.

Somewhere in the trip downstream, he managed to brush the bottom with a foot, kicking up a cloud of silt. Okay, he just needed to go in the direction opposite of that. Just break the surface once. Refresh his lungs. He could do that much. Just go up. Can only go up from there, right? He can-

Scales brushed against him as he kicked into open water, triggering the reflexive mistake of a startled inhale. His lungs protested this with a series of coughs, similarly failing to realize that there was no air under the water. Through his choking, he could make out the cause of his alarm: several brightly colored fish.

Just fish. He was spooked by fish. He was drowning because of fish. 

He tried another push to the surface, but all he could focus on was the lack of air. His throat was burning! Something was in his throat! Get it out! Get him out! He couldn't breathe! There was only fire! There was only red! Red splatters stained the ground below-! 

No! Not below! That's down! Need to go up! Need to breathe! Where's up!? Can only see red! A hungry red! 

Hungry fish! There were more! They were close! Getting closer! Too many! Can't fight! Can't breathe! Blue, yellow, red, pink, red, green, red, red, red-!

Black.

Heavy...

A sense of weight tugged Shuuji down, back to the brink of consciousness. He was no stranger to such heaviness. There was always something pressing down on him. Sometimes it felt like the weight of the world itself was on his back (or chest? Felt like his chest this time...) and slowly crushing him into the dirt. There was always so much to handle and most of the time, no matter how much effort he put in, it was never enough. But it needed to be enough. He needed to be enough; he needed to be more than enough. For their sake. For his own sake. To meet His standards.

He wasn't quite awake enough to register which type of weight it was this time. A burden? Judgement? Obligation? One of many expectations? 

Then it slammed down into his midsection and Shuuji realized this weight was much less abstract. 

Insides churning in discontent, Shuuji's eyes snapped open. He rolled to the side and barely had enough time to prop himself up before he began coughing up water.

As he finished expelling a river of his own, a lighter weight patted his back. The gesture might've been reassuring if it weren't for the claws that poked him with every motion.

Shuuji went rigid. After all the running and the threats and the crises and nearly drowning, they still got him. Once again, his best wasn't enough. He clamped his eyes shut to dam back his welling tears — those sadists would've considered it a riot and he couldn't take anymore of their mockery. 

No laughter came. Even their condescending pats had stopped. 

"Looks like that's all of it." A boyish voice, familiar yet distinctly not belonging to any of the gazimon, broke the silence. "It's alright; they're gone now. You're safe."

Even though it didn't sound like a gazimon, their words were still a lie. A monster's a monster and they were all capable of harm. Those gazimon acted like this at first too, even if they barely hid their malice. Whatever this monster was, no matter how genuine he presented himself or how much Shuuji wanted to believe those words, he knew he couldn't be trusted.

After more silence, there was some shuffling. "Here," the voice said, now coming from in front of him. Shuuji reflexively looked up, just in time to see another set of sharp claws jabbing towards his face-

He shot back, inhaling far too sharply for his recovering lungs. After doubling over in another coughing fit, he looked back up into the bemused eyes of a white seal. His clawed flipper still hung frozen in the air. 

...He'd seen creatures like this one before. During his solo travels with Saki, they had encountered a couple of them. Of course, back then, they were much smaller and tended to keep more of a distance. What were they called again? Gizamon? Goromon?

"Jumpy little guy, aren'tcha?" The monster let his flipper drop to the ground with a seemingly apologetic and reassuring smile. "Don't blame you one bit; those guys were really houndin' you back there. If their boss hadn't started howling, they probably woulda tried teaching themselves how to swim just to get'cha. It'll be a bad day once they figure that out, but today's a pretty good one." The seal chuckled to himself. His assessment was certainly debatable, but Shuuji's throat was too raw for a retort.

He half-consciously rose a hand to his neck. The frosty feeling from before had long since melted — if not from the run, then from the river's round trip to his lungs — but he remembered the feeling well. And the lack of feeling. And the world shattering realization.

Numbly, he got to his feet. The seal said something else, but it didn't register as he approached the edge of the river. Despite the calmer current, his reflection was still distorted. That said, it wasn't distorted enough to hide its inhumanity.

Shuuji sat down again, not trusting his trembling legs to keep him from falling back in the water. The reality of the situation was finally sinking in, settling heavy in his stomach. This wasn't some trick or nightmare or something; he really did turn into a lopmon.

But why? How? It didn't make any sense!

He huffed a bitter laugh, triggering a few more coughs. Something that didn't make sense? In this world? His next observation should be how wet the water still dripping down his back was. The dampness was uncomfortable, but so was everything else about this situation.

Acceptance brought with it a numbing despair. He turned into a monster, completely indistinguishable from any others of its species. If his reflection was clear, he still wouldn't have been able to recognize himself. How could he expect anyone else to either? Would the others believe him if he told them who he was? Would his family?

Lost in his grief, Shuuji paid no mind to the seal as it padded up beside him. He didn't care anymore. The monster could do what it wanted — stab him with its claws, shove him back in the river to drown, melt him with acid or whatever secret dangerous ability it inevitably had. He already felt dead.

"How are you feeling?"

Exhausted. Confused. Hollow and overwhelmed and terrified and broken and hopeless and helpless and-

None of the descriptors left his mouth. He only continued to stare at the water in silence.

"I get it," the seal said softly. "We don't have to talk. Just take all the time you need."

That would be difficult, considering that he'd never get anywhere close to "okay" regarding this. Still, the silence was appreciated.

Shuuji wasn't sure how much time had passed — five minutes? An hour? — but eventually the tides of despair waned enough for his thoughts to wander from "why me?" back to simply "why?" There was no point in continuing to grieve his lost humanity. Doing so wouldn't reverse the change; he didn't even know if it could be undone. But if nothing else he could try to figure out what caused it to happen.

Considering this was the kemonogami world, perhaps this was just an inevitable fate for any outsiders that crossed over and couldn't get home in time? Assuming they didn't die horribly before then, some supernatural force would twist and warp their bodies until they match the world's natives. But if this was the case, then surely Miyuki and Haru would've become monsters far sooner than he did.

Perhaps it wasn't the world itself that changed people but one of its inhabitants? Every new threat they encountered had more powerful and terrible abilities than the last. If Arukenimon could transform herself into a human, who's to say that there wasn't another species that could transform a human into a monster? Of course, a monster with that sort of power would need to be even stronger than her — possibly more than everyone else they encountered to this point as well — and would be unwilling to revert its curse, assuming it was capable of doing so.

He thought back once more to their most recent excursion for any possible clues. Even without a couple of saber-toothed beasts threatening him for responses, most of the details still smeared together like a chalk drawing after a downpour, leaving him with disjointed fragments of image and sound at most. One of the clearer images was of Arukenimon — she was there, even if the others couldn't see her. She had sought him out specifically for... a challenge? A deal?

"We need a sacrifice... A single one will do."

"Really? Just one?"

Oh. No.

Shuuji's insides were twisting again. Was this what happened to kids that were sacrificed in this world? Or, worse, was this what happened to those spared from sacrifice? He knew he was a coward, but he wouldn't have thrown anyone else to the wolves for the sake of his own pathetic life, right?

"You alright?" A voice jolted him out of his thoughts. Glancing towards the source, he saw the same monster from before, lying a little ways away with his head perked in alarmed curiosity. "You started breathing super fast all of a sudden." 

"Y-Yeah." Just freaking out about bargains he could barely remember. "You're still here?"

"Don't got anywhere else to be," he said with a shrug. "Besides, you got chased by a pack of gazimon, almost drowned, and started staring at the river like you wanted to try again. I gotta make sure you're okay after all that."

He... really didn't. It made some sense when he was on the brink of death — who wouldn't feel moved to save the dying? — but once the major crisis was over people usually moved on. This seal was investing way too much time into someone like him. "Why do you care? You don't even know me."

"You don't know me either," the monster countered, as though that somehow explained everything. "But we can fix that. I'm Gomamon."

Right, that's what they were called. When it came to these creatures, there didn't seem to be a difference between species names and personal names. He supposed that meant giving his actual name wouldn't go well. At best it would be seen as odd; at worst he'd be faced with suspicion and hostility. So the alternative was to say that he was Lopmon?

Nope. Absolutely not. Even thinking of addressing himself in that way felt wrong. He could (begrudgingly) accept that something transformed him into a lopmon, but the day he accepted that as his actual name was the day Kayama Shuuji truly died. Sure, his life wasn't the best and some days those dark whispers to escape all of it forever were more tempting than others, but he refused to disappear before achieving something worthy of merit. He needed to prove he wasn't the family's mistake. He just needed to do better; to be better-

"And you are?" Gomamon prompted. Squinting playfully, he added, "It's good manners to give someone your name after they share their own."

...Right. He never actually decided on what name to give. "I'm... a lopmon," he allowed. Even as the admission of a species, it felt sour in his mouth. "But that's not... I'm not supposed to be like this."

"What do you mean?" Gomamon cocked his head. "Did you evolve recently?"

The question made Shuuji pause for a moment. Given the monster's general frailty and weakness, he had assumed that this was the baseline form. What would evolve into a lopmon? An amoeba? A slime mold?

"I wouldn't call this an evolution."

Gomamon's head tilted in the other direction. "Then what wouldja call it?"

"It's... I was something else before, but then something attacked me and I- I don't remember who it was, just that when I next woke up I was this."

"Sounds more like a reversion to me," Gomamon mused. "That guy that ambushed you must'a hit you super hard and knocked you back to your last form. Well, I'm sure after some time to rest and recharge you'll be yourself again in no time!"

"This isn't my 'last form!'" Shuuji was getting a headache. This would be much easier if he could explain the situation outright, but the anti-human sentiment was held by too many monsters for the risk to be worth it. "Look, do you know if there's anybody who can change you into something else? Something it would be impossible to become at any other time? Like... I don't know, someone who can turn you into a fish?"

Gomamon gave him a long stare. "Are you saying you were a fish, or that you want to become one?"

Shuuji sighed. Of course that would be the part a seal would focus on. "No. I- Nevermind." He supposed it would've been a long shot for him to know such a monster. He couldn't name every species of animal found in his world; he couldn't expect a monster to know every kind in theirs. Regardless, it was still disappointing.

"I guess a fish would swim better," Gomamon teased. Shuuji shot him a glare, but the seal didn't seem to notice (not that a button-eyed glare would be particularly powerful). He hummed to himself in thought. "Well, I know there's some guys who could do an irregular 'slide evolution' between forms, but they can only do that to themselves. I hear wizardmon and witchmon can do magic, but it's more fighty stuff than transformy stuff. Of course, there's those legends about humans and how they can sometimes change you, but I hear those guys are supposed'ta make you stronger, not make you something impossible."

Shuuji could feel an eye twitch. That too was ignored as the seal continued thinking to himself.

At last, he gasped and clapped his flippers. "I've got it!"

Given the previous guesses, he probably didn't. "Let's hear it."

"Here's what I think: first you're you, then you get ambushed. The guy beats you down, and he hits you so hard that you revert twice before conking out. Then, before coming to, you recover enough to evolve back to rookie, but into a different form this time." After concluding his theory, Gomamon scratched his cheek. "I admit it's a stretch, but it sounds like the most likely explanation to me. That might explain why everything feels so wrong for you too; between all the danger and changing so much all at once, your core probably hadn't had the time to process everything. I'm sure once everything calms down, being 'Lopmon' won't feel as wrong."

Shuuji fell silent. As wrong as the theory was, the implications bothered him. He hadn't really thought about it given everything else about the change, but it was true that a monster's identity was innately locked to their physical form. He had seen as much with his juniors' monsters — when Agumon evolved, he wasn't Agumon anymore, he was Tuskmon; she wasn't Floramon after evolving, now she was Vegiemon — but he was still himself. Outside of current species, he didn't consider himself Lopmon at all. Did it have something to do with changing from human to monster or... was it merely on a delay? He already had that gap in his memory and so many others surrounding the moment were faded at best. Were they always like that, or was that a result of the change? What if that fog that swallowed up a few hours ago expanded to devour his other memories as well? Would there be a moment where he forgot who he was? A moment where he forgot his humanity altogether? Would he even recognize when it happened? 

Those thoughts pulled him back to his feet. "Yeah, that could be possible. Sorry, but I have to go."

Gomamon frowned. "So suddenly?"

"I just remembered something I need to do. I need to hurry before it's too late."

"You're looking a little shaky." The seal fixed him with a stare of unwanted concern. "Are you sure you're ready to do so?"

"I-It's just because I've been sitting for too long." Watching the water and doing nothing else. Wasting time. "I wasn't the only one in that ambush; I need to make sure everyone else is alright."

Gomamon's eyes flashed in understanding, however his expression remained uneasy. "I'm sure you'd want to get back to them soon then, but real friends wouldn't want you to throw yourself into danger, right? I'm sure they'd understand if you need a little more time to rest."

They weren't friends; that much was clear. Shuuji was civil with them (well, he tried to be — Kaito and Minoru made it difficult sometimes), but there was no deeper link between them. They all had their connections, be it as classmates or as siblings; he was just the outsider assigned to be their chaperone. Assuming everyone else made it home alive (and they better...), they'd all go their separate ways and he'd never hear from them again. Hell, most of them have been jumping at the chance to ditch him before then!

His teeth clenched. That didn't matter. What they wanted didn't matter. His hurt didn't matter. He was responsible for keeping them safe, and that fact didn't change just because his body did.

"I'll be fine."

Gomamon was silent for a long time. Long enough that Shuuji began weighing his chances. Surely he could at least outrun a seal, short wobbly legs or not. He didn't trust his ability in a fight, but things shouldn't escalate that much, right? It wouldn't make sense to beat someone up right after saving them.

Luckily, he didn't have to fight or flee, as Gomamon eventually nodded slowly. "If you're sure..." The skepticism in his voice was noted and unappreciated. "The water's calmer downstream, but I'll stick around until you've crossed. Just to be safe. I'd also recommend staying clear of the pack's territory; they tend to hold grudges."

Returning the nod, Shuuji turned to leave. There was no point in further insistence or arguing — Gomamon had decided to let him go and they'd be wasting more time fighting over misconceptions or unnecessary care. Assuming anybody survived that suicide mission (and they were capable enough that he'd expect the majority would've), they were likely to have returned to their base at the old school. If he was trapped in this form and potentially fated to lose himself in it, then the least he could do — bare freaking minimum — would be to find and warn the others regarding the curse before they had to suffer it as well.

He just had to get back to them in one piece. 

Chapter Text

Returning to the school was easier planned than done.

Shuuji had some hope at the start — he wasn't a complete stranger to these woods anymore and he had a rough estimate on where his destination would be — and that was his first mistake. Ever since crossing the river and officially starting the trek back, a multitude of problems he failed to account for sprung from the woodwork to dash that pesky optimism into the dirt.

Problem number one: physical limitations. As it turned out, walking down an unmarked forest trail — even one he had passing familiarity with — was far more difficult when reduced to a fourth of his usual height. His smaller size brought along with it a smaller gait and shallow stamina pool. It was frankly pathetic how often he had to stop to catch his breath. 

Problem two: natural lighting, or the gradual decrease thereof. During all the time he spent fumbling in wrong directions or taking stops, time continued to tick by at its usual rate. He knew for a fact that travel would become much more difficult when the night came and, with the sky already changing to the colors of dusk, he didn't have much time left before then. He briefly debated if it was worth stopping to find shelter for the night, but decided it could wait. Any deviation from the plan would waste precious time. The more time he wasted, the more he risked letting the gaps in his memory expand. What if they grew to the point he couldn't remember what he was looking for, much less why? Then he'd be lost in a whole new way!

(He didn't think he forgot anything new yet, not that he'd notice if he'd completely forgotten something. Still, the threat hung overhead like a hawk, just waiting for the rabbit to lower his guard so it could sink its talons into his brain.)

The third problem related to his new monster physiology. Aside from the most obvious and distracting pair of physical differences (every time they caught on a rock or snagged on a bush, he came that much closer to either tying them up or tearing them off), his senses were giving him a headache. The problem didn't come from his typical senses — although scents and sounds were much more noticeable, they were still familiar enough to eventually fade into the background —, rather it was an entirely new sense that was causing trouble. It was a sense of location and presence, not unlike an internal GPS. However, instead of informing him of his current location and where he should be going (which might have actually been useful in this situation), it provided him with a vague sense that there was someone nearby. Or more of a distance away. He wasn't sure about the limits of its reach, only that it gave him the same sort of wariness he felt not long before the gazimon appeared.

Their aligned monsters had mentioned before how they could sense other creatures, but he had always assumed they meant it in an animalistic "I've got the scent" sort of way, not that they had some weird beast GPS (BPS?) in their brains. They tended to be so accurate with what they detected too, sometimes being able to identify species through just this sense! If Shuuji really focused, he could somewhat make out variations between the different signals, but that was as far as his recognition went. Perhaps a natural-born monster could identify the deeper meaning behind the differences, but to him they were as garbled as every message his phone had received since entering this world.

And yet, much like with the buzz of his notifications, he still felt the impulse to consider every fresh signal he noticed because What if it's important? or What if this time I can decipher something?

While pausing against a mushroom-infested hollow log for his latest rest, he was doing just that. He figured that if he needed to make so many stops, the least he could do was see if he could build his understanding of the strange sense during them. So far he noticed a signal coming in from one direction (the exact location was unclear — maybe on the move?), a couple others originating further in the opposite direction (he could pick up deviations between them — perhaps it was a gathering of or a fight between different species?), beyond even that a fast-moving, STRONG signal (must be either a lot of one species or something exceptionally powerful to be felt that intensely from here; either way he'll be steering clear of that area), and over there-

...What was that?

Something about that last signal... It was faint, especially compared to the one proceeding it, yet stood out from any of the others he'd identified to this point. It almost felt like the opposite of the other BPS signals: instead of projecting any sense of danger, it felt entirely harmless. More than harmless; it was welcoming, warm, familiar. It was like the signal itself was promising him safety, as well as something else that he couldn't put a name to yet his body craved with the intensity of a man in withdrawal. 

He... He had to track it down. That's all there was to it. He needed to find the source! He-!

Nnnneeded to find the others first. Gritting his teeth, he shook his head as though doing so could banish that desire. But it was too late; the poison was in his system. Whenever he tried to think of how to proceed and what to do next, his thoughts kept wandering back to that siren's song and just how badly he needed to find what it was coming from. The desire had a chokehold on his very soul, insisting that following it was a matter of life and death. 

But no matter how persistent it was, he couldn't let it win. He was responsible for ensuring the others were safe, which meant getting to them as soon as possible and warning them before they fell victim to this same monsterfication curse. He had no idea how long he'd be himself before the Lopmon identity replaced him — for all he knew, this could be an early sign that it was starting — so he couldn't afford to be distracted. Besides, knowing this world, that was probably just the ability of some absurdly powerful monster. It must be some sort of mind altering lure they emitted to attract weak-willed and naive prey before snapping them up while they were lost in their bliss.

...Of course, if that was the case, that would be even more reason for him to go and investigate. He'd need to know what it was so he could warn the others what they were up against. Besides, what if the signal was coming from one of the others? He barely understood anything about the BPS and its reports, so who was he to definitively say that it wasn't coming from an ally? If anything, it would be more foolish to dismiss it outright. And why would he want to dismiss something that felt as wonderful as that? It was just the sort of thing he needed, and something told him that whatever was on the other end needed him too. Surely he should at least-

"No! Stop! Stop it!" Shuuji grabbed at his head; his nails... his claws digging in just below his ears. What was he thinking!? What was he doing!? He never should've given that signal any attention! Even from as far away as it was, its promises were messing with his head. He could feel it eating away at his willpower like an acid — he had already started walking a few steps in its direction before he realized what was happening.  

He sunk his claws in deeper, forcing himself to turn away despite how his entire being seemed to protest the action. It's nothing. It's dangerous. It's lying. You don't need it. Focus on the pain. Focus on your duties. Focus on... ANYTHING else!

His eyes darted around his surroundings. Trees. Log. Mushrooms. Were those edible for monsters? He'll need to find food at some point. Maybe he'd find something closer to- Ugh, STOP! More trees. They all seemed to be the same variant, although he couldn't identify the type. A noise made his ears twitch (still such an odd feeling). Were those footsteps-?

Hissing some choice words that sounded very wrong in his current voice, Shuuji ducked inside the log. What was the point of having a monster detector in his head if it could leave him so hypnotized by a signal from the other side of the woods that he misses something practically on top of him? If he hadn't heard the beast's approach in time he'd be easy pickings for the incoming, most likely hostile-

...Floramon?

Shuuji could feel the tension fade as a familiar flowering plant-reptile walked out from the trees. He knew this sort of monster well — this was the form Saki's partner preferred to stay as. Still, he knew that he couldn't completely drop his guard. Just because he knew a floramon didn't mean that this one's temperament would be anything like hers, especially if this one was feral. It would be better if he stayed out of sight and let her pass rather than revealing himself and risking a faceful of pollen or... flower tentacle. 

That was the plan at least. Midway across the forest floor, the floramon paused. After cautiously glancing around, her eyes rested on the log he was watching her from as though the bark was transparent.

Mentally smacking himself, Shuuji sunk deeper against the underside of the log. OF COURSE she'd be able to sense him! All monsters had that inner radar thing and at the moment, in every way but thought and identity, he was as much a monster as any other! By choosing to hide inside of the log, he had nowhere to go — he'd set himself up like fish in a barrel!

The floramon's budlike hands opened as she rose them defensively. "H-Hey!" she called out, "I don't know who you are, and I'm sorry if I disturbed you, but I promise I'm just passing through! I don't want any problems! I'm just... a little lost right now."

Shuuji blinked. Was she afraid of him? Like this? It was almost laughable to consider. Maybe it was just because she couldn't see him clearly or couldn't identify his signal, but she genuinely looked like she expected him to pull a gazimon and launch a sudden ambush. 

Still, he could sympathize with her fear. Although at least a head taller than he currently was, she was still a very small being walking alone through a darkening forest full of nasty creatures. When you're lost, alone, and well aware of how vulnerable you are, anything and everything felt like a threat.

He knew that all too well...

"It's okay." The words had left his mouth before he could reconsider. "I'm a little lost too."

The floramon stiffened, hands dropping to her sides. After a moment she made a sprint for the log, giving Shuuji just enough time to regret speaking and brace for-

"Lopmon?"

-a wide-eyed stare as she leaned into the mouth of the log. "Sorry, you are a lopmon, right?"

"It sure looks that way." Shuuji hoped the shadows of the log made the smile he forced look less pained. Even indirectly, it still felt wrong to admit. "And you're Floramon, right?"

After a few more seconds of staring, she nodded. "Sure looks that way," she echoed with a small, more genuine smile of her own. "It sure is nice to meet a friendly face. You wouldn't believe how many gotsumon I've run into out here. And all of them grouches..."

That was an understatement. Shuuji could still remember his first encounter with those stony creatures — the first encounter the group had with any of these monsters. Back then he had been under the misconception that they were just some local kids pulling a prank, but had been proven wrong when one of them lunged to attack. If Takuma hadn't stepped in when he did to take the blow, he would've been seriously hurt.

His smile faded. Causing them trouble since the beginning...

"Have you been traveling alone?"

"Yeah, it's just me," Shuuji confirmed, crawling out to join her. "Had a run-in with some gazimon; been trying to avoid anyone else after that."

Floramon made a sympathetic noise typically reserved for small children. "Yeah, those guys can be nasty. Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine; nothing I couldn't handle." Shuuji tried not to bristle at her tone — although he was still mentally sixteen, even he had to admit that as a lopmon he looked and sounded much younger than that. "What about you?"

"Just me," Floramon confirmed with a shake of her head. "I've been looking for someone, but I haven't found her yet. I have an idea where she could be, but I'm having trouble finding the place. Actually..." She studied him thoughtfully. "Would you happen to know where there's a big, wooden building? Two stories? Looks kinda run-down? Big open area out front?"

Shuuji's trampled hope began gasping for life once more. From the sound of it, this really might have been the Floramon he knew! "Do you mean the schoolhouse?"

Floramon's eyes lit up. "Yes! That! Do you know where it is!?"

"I think I might-?" Shuuji winced — too vague, too uncertain; need to be confident!  "I-I mean, I've wandered off from the main path, but once I'm back on it I should know."

"Would you mind showing me the way? I've got a little turned around and now I'm unsure if I'm heading in the right direction. You don't have to bring me all the way; just to where things start looking familiar again."

"Sure, I can do that." Hope renewed, he added "I've actually been trying to get to the school too."

Floramon took a moment to respond — long enough that Shuuji wasn't sure she heard. Then, with a smile, she clasped her petaled hands together. "Well, then that's perfect! I'm sure that if we go together we'll find our way in no time!"

Floramon's belief had been overly optimistic. If traveling with her had any effect on pathfinding, it was negligible. He had hoped that because she was more used to this angle she'd be able to point out if the route seemed familiar, but she appeared to be just as uncertain.

By now dusk had fully settled in and the forest remained as unrecognizable as ever. Had it not been for the ever-changing BPS signals, he'd have thought that they were traveling in circles. Not helping matters was the fourth problem that finally revealed itself, blanketing the ground before them in white. 

Fog. Terrific. Shuuji heaved a sigh that sounded closer to a growl. Not only was it one more hindrance to their visibility, but just standing in it brought a sense of dread to his currently-nonexistent bones. It wasn't too bad yet — still just a light mist —, but as with most things in this world, ignoring it would be dangerous. If it got too thick...

In his mind's eye, he could see a scarlet wolf snapped up by a black mass hiding in the fogbank. Howls of pain and terror changed to dying screams as the image of the beast was replaced by the crumpled form of a boy. His spine and limbs twisted in unnatural ways as he was dragged into a similar void by a writhing mass of hands.

Floramon vocalized his exact conclusion in an anxious murmur: "We need to get out of the fog. Fast."

Nodding, he picked up the pace. They'll just stick in one direction until their surroundings became visible again. There was the risk that it would take them further from their destination, but it wasn't like they were on the right path before the fog rolled in either. It was better to be alive and able to continue the search later than to die an avoidable and gruesome death.

Of course, thanks to their haste and the low visibility, the plan almost immediately derailed. They were so focused on escaping the danger of the fog, they blinded themselves to other dangers. Such as a horde of sleeping gotsumon that they failed to notice until they were literally tripping over them. Unsurprisingly, they were not appreciative of being woken up, especially by a pair of clumsy trespassers.

And so, for the second time in one day, Shuuji found himself on the run from a pack of monsters. At least this time he wasn't alone.

"Why are there so many gotsumon in this forest!?" Floramon wailed, stopping her sprint just long enough to spin around and whip a tentacle at one's feet. She was doing a much better job fending off the few that caught up than he had done during the last chase. That said, there was only so much damage one could do by slapping rocks, and he wasn't blind to how she had to shake out her "wrists" after every lash that connected.

At least, unlike the gazimon, the gotsumon were bulky. Although deceptively fast for living stone statues, they were still slower than those mammalian monsters, giving them small moments of reprieve and reorientation when they pulled ahead. 

"They'll stop once we leave their territory, right!?"

"They should! The other ones did!"

"Should" was not an ideal response, but it was better than nothing. Shuuji tried sensing for the safest route-

It was that signal again. Loud and overwhelming, somehow even moreso than before. It was like a fog light blasted directly in his eyes, blinding him to everything else. It was close; very close! He could finally find it! He must find it! He needed to-!

Dammit, not again! Not now! He dug his claws into his side. This was an actual life and death situation; losing focus would turn it into a death and death one! 

He looked over to Floramon, hoping she had better luck. His stomach dropped when he saw her looking off in the direction of the signal, face lit up in delight. That confirmed it: if this was affecting Floramon too, then it seemed all the more likely that the signal was trying to draw any monster towards it. It wasn't a fog light; it was the lure of an anglerfish!

"This way!"

"Wait, Floramon!" Shuuji grabbed her arm before she could take off. "This isn't right!"

"What do you mean?" Although his travel companion looked concerned, there was a hint of frustration in her voice. "It's safe over there! Can't you feel that?"

"Yes, that's the problem!" He dug in his heels. "It's too good to be true! What if it's a trap?"

Floramon opened her mouth to respond, only to be cut off by a snarl like the revving of a chainsaw. With a "Move!" she pulled him ahead as a fist-sized stone embedded itself in the tree that was once behind them.

"If it's something bad, we can turn it on the gotsumon!" she decided, sending him a pleading look. "Come on, Lopmon, we don't have a choice!"

Shuuji was unsure how effective mind control would be against a bunch of golems seemingly driven by little more than instinct — especially when he and Floramon were both so vulnerable to the entrancing call themselves — but she was right that they didn't have many options. If nothing else, maybe confirming the danger would be enough to control the yearning. "Fine, let's go!"

He had barely spoken a syllable before Floramon took off. With a final glance back at the gaining golems, he followed behind her. Despite his unease, there was a growing part of him thrilled to finally be heading towards the source.

That part grew quieter when he started hearing the voices.

"Did you hear that?"

"Be careful; we don't know what's out here!"

"Indeed, it's best we remain vigilant."

Shuuji froze in his tracks. Those voices were familiar. Too familiar. One of them made sense given his travel companion, but the other two...

The wrongness fully snapped him from his thrall. He knew it. This was a trap.

Thankfully, Floramon must've realized the same as she stopped as well. "Was that...? O-Oh." She looked back at him with new consideration. "So that's it."

"What do you mean? What's it?"

Floramon didn't respond, but a fiery resolve shone in her eyes. Nodding to herself, she turned back and rushed ahead-

"No, Floramon!" Was she insane!? He moved to stop her, but whatever conclusion she reached had given her a new burst of energy. "It's not real! She's not really there!"

She ignored him — everyone always did; why would this time be different? — forcing him to chase along like a lemming caught up in a cliffside stampede. 

Time seemed to freeze when they reached the clearing. He wasn't sure what he expected to see, but what awaited them was not it. Countless thoughts raced through his head; the majority of which were a variation of "how?", "what?", or a form of profanity.

There were three individuals standing there — by all appearances human —, one for each voice heard. He would have been taken aback by how high even the smallest towered over his current self had he not been preoccupied by their identities.

The most expected of the three was Saki — it only made sense that the young girl would have come out here to look for her partner. The second was a man he had seen fall to his death just a few days ago, whose ghost haunted his nightmares of failure and inadequacy. And yet, here he was: alive and breathing, staring at him as though he was the one who couldn't have possibly been there.

And yet, it was the third who left him the most dumbstruck. It was himself — or, at the very least, who he had been just before waking up as a lopmon. He was certain that had he been in his actual body, his horrified confusion would have matched his doppelganger's current expression exactly.

He... might have to reevaluate his understanding of this situation.

Chapter Text

This had to be the most twisted, screwed-up form of deja vu Shuuji had ever experienced.

The details of what happened at the clearing were a blur — he was far too distracted by the participating "who"s to pay attention to the "what"s — but even in his half-focused state everything felt far too familiar: their group compositions, the professor's surprise over seeing real kemonogami...

...the gotsumon swarming and overwhelming the professor, having to leave him behind...

Disregarding a certain crucial difference, the sequence of events was extremely close — almost identical — to when they had met their beasts earlier in the week. So much so that if he hadn't known that time travel was impossible-

Actually, given that he had been spirited away to a parallel world, been partnered with and then trapped inside the body of a creature meant to only exist in regional folklore, and was currently watching his real body get chewed out by Saki, why should that stop him from considering it? At this point, it felt like anything was possible. 

"Seriously," she huffed, "we almost lost you, like, five times! Were you trying to escape the gotsumon or us?"

The other him was frantically apologetic. "I wasn't trying to, honest! I thought you were right behind me! I didn't realize how much slower you were!"

"I see." With an unamused stare, Saki crossed her arms. "So it's our fault for being too slow."

Shuuji could practically feel his double's panic over the poor choice of words. Maybe he'd be more sympathetic if the other hadn't deserved this for sprinting off at top speed. Or if the rest of the group hadn't left him in the dust during the escape. If it weren't for that enticing signal, he probably would've ended up alone again.

Because, as it turned out, that horribly-wonderful mystery signal was coming from himself this whole time — well, the other him; the one still physically human. Solving the mystery certainly succeeded in weakening its psychological appeal, even if his body still took some instinctive pleasure from being near the source.

After some more stammering to try to explain himself, his doppelganger seemed to realize he couldn't. Slumping in defeat, he gave her a final "I'm sorry."

Saki could only maintain her stare for a few more seconds before a teasing smile betrayed her. "You're lucky I'm such a forgiving girl," she said with a giggle. "Besides," she added, turning towards Shuuji and Floramon, "we shouldn't be fighting in front of our... new friends?"

New. Shuuji groaned, taking that as the needed confirmation to officially slot time travel into the "possible impossibilities" list. As if this situation hadn't been bad enough! It had already been shaping up to be one of the worst weeks of his life back when he was experiencing it as himself! Getting sent back to suffer it again — this time forced into a weak, unfamiliar form to re-experience his lows and failures from the outside — felt like a cruel and unusual punishment for being so incompetent the first time.

"You okay, Lopmon?" Floramon asked. "You're not looking too good."

"Oh, no. I'm alright," Shuuji lied. "I'm just tired." Of everything.

"It is getting pretty dark," Saki noted with a frown. "We may want to call it a night soon..."

She trailed off into an expectant silence. Nobody rose to fill it. As the seconds ticked on, all heads eventually turned towards the other him. He fidgeted under the attention.

"Is something wrong?"

"Just thought you would've said something by now, y'know? Something like 'well, as the leader, I hereby decree that we do this and that' or whatever."

...Questionable impressions aside, she wasn't wrong. A leader would be expected to at least provide input. His double should've said something, given that was now his role.

It was strange: with how defining the leadership role had been for him since the start of it all, Shuuji thought losing it would've been far more devastating. That's not to say it didn't sting, but it was just another fistful of salt applied to the wound that was this insane situation rather than its own excruciating gash.

He supposed it hadn't been entirely unexpected, which may have cushioned the blow. In all honesty, between his continual failures and everyone's growing lack of faith in him, the thought that he might get replaced had been floating around like an annoying insect long before he ended up a lopmon. As much as he didn't want to acknowledge it, it was practically guaranteed after he changed species — considering his juniors had barely listened to him while human, there was no way they would've accepted his authority as a living plush with a kindergartener's voice. He couldn't have expected the time displacement nor the presence of another him at the time, but they were just the final nails in the coffin.

That said, even if he may've braced for it, he would be lying if he said he wasn't at all upset by the turn of events. Even if that role felt nominal at best most of the time, it was still his role within the group. Without it, he was nothing to them (no, less than nothing; a drain and a burden). It felt as though his value as a person had been stolen away, even though the mess of time and identity that was this situation meant it was still technically "his".

He wasn't sure what disgusted him more: his resentment over being (unknowingly) usurped by his own self from just a few days ago or that not-quiet-enough voice in the back of his head relieved to be unchained from the role's associated pressure and expectations.

"R-Right, that's what... I need to do that..." Those chains seemed to have just tightened around his alternate, leaving him with a distant look in his eye as the color drained from his face. Despite Shuuji's (admittedly irrational) bitterness, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity. Poor fool had no idea how bad everything would get as soon as tomorrow...

"Well," he started slow, watching for everyone's reactions, "we can't stay here. We're not far enough; the gotsumon could track us down and attack again. After they're finished with the professor..." His words ended in a mumble.

"He'll be alright," Saki assured, although not without sadness in her voice. "I'm sure of it. The professor's stronger than he looks."

"I know he is."

Those words perked an ear. What an oddly optimistic response. During the original attack, Shuuji remembered expecting the worst after the professor was buried beneath the living rubble. Maybe he had done a better job masking his despair than he remembered...?

With a sad smile, his alternate continued with "I just wish there was something we could've done to help..."

Alright, that sounded more typical. Even now Shuuji was frustrated about his inability to do anything — even more so after realizing this happened before. Although he knew the professor had survived this swarming the last time it occurred, it would've been nice to prevent him from going through that.

Still, it wasn't like they had a chance as they were. "There was nothing that could be done," he reminded the group. "There were too many of them. We aren't strong enough."

"Yeah, neither of us are really fit for fighting off rocks," Floramon agreed glumly, looking down at her hands. Shuuji winced at her indirect reminder — at least she made an effort, whereas he did nothing to help fend them off during their escape. It was the beasts' role to fight off hostile monsters; like it or not (and he knew which way he leaned), he was now one of them. He'll be expected to start contributing in the same way.

The thought of joining the front lines was terrifying, but what purpose did a monster have otherwise? If he wanted to be worth anything to the group now, he'd need to participate. That said, at present, he was little better than a fuzzy meat shield. He'll need to figure out how to fight reliably on his own. The sooner the better, lest the others leave him behind for his worthlessness or, worse, his incompetence leaves him with more blood on his hands.

"Why does their territory spread so far anyway!?" Floramon complained. "This never would've happened if it was smaller! You'd think piles of stone wouldn't need so much space!"

"Maybe a couple of piles wouldn't," Saki noted, "but there were a lot of them."

"Lots of gotsumon need lots of space," his double agreed. "A lot more than you'd expect. We should make sure we're completely outside their territory before we do anything else." He motioned to Floramon. "Would you be able to tell us when we're out?" 

"I mean, I can try..." Floramon glanced away, voice wavering in uncertainty. "I can't make out any borders or anything like that, but I can at least tell you when I can't sense anymore of them."

"I'll back her up," Shuuji quickly offered. His counterpart looked to him in surprise; he met it with as much finality as he could manage. He could guess what was running through his head — Lopmon hadn't inspired much confidence from first (or subsequent) impressions — but although he could understand those thoughts, he didn't have to like them, nor sit back and let them go unchallenged. It wasn't like he could do anything Floramon couldn't (and as a natural monster she'd probably do better), but he had to do something. 

Surprise gave way to an odd melancholy, then a short nod. "Right. Okay, I'll leave that to you then. Both of you. Let us know when you can't sense them anymore, then we can find somewhere to rest for the night. Is that alright with everyone?"

He seemed relieved when the others raised no objection. Shuuji didn't see why they would've. The plan was as basic as they came: get to safety, find somewhere to sleep. One could argue it was too simple.

Regardless, he could excuse the lack of confidence as a consequence of earlier events — they did just watch a rather admirable adult (and the only known human adult in this world) get ravaged by creatures they hadn't known existed until that afternoon. Whether or not he truly believed the professor was fine, witnessing such brutality would leave anyone feeling shaken and unsure.

What was harder to explain away was his double's lack of reaction towards Floramon and, most notably, himself. From the start, Lopmon gave Shuuji an uncanny sense of familiarity, even before he began giving voice to all those annoying thoughts he tried so hard to keep locked away. He would've thought that, given that he was currently in that rabbit's paws, that sense of familiarity would've been stronger and more unsettling for "himself". And yet, every time his alternate looked at him, there didn't seem to be any unease at all. At worst, he just seemed... sad.

Come to think of it, he also seemed to know much more about what they could do than he should, considering he had no prior interaction with monsters. Shuuji hadn't truly understood their monster-sensing abilities until he could feel the signals himself, yet the other him seemed to have full faith in it, to the point of linking a major part of his plan to its function. And how did he know they could sense them in that way if the sense had never been brought up? Who would look at a rabbit and a reptilian flower and assume they have radar capabilities?

Shuuji had been rationalizing anything that didn't quite match his memories as either the result of faulty recollection, a difference in perspective, or some form of butterfly effect that came from taking Lopmon's place. But that reasoning wouldn't explain how someone could already know something they had no way of knowing. It was almost like he had learned it before; like he had also gone... back...

...Did he? Could he have been dragged back too? If so, was that their only similarity, or could it be that this horrible wrong-body-wrong-time experience wasn't one-sided? He'd thought that sense of wrongness he felt watching "himself" was because he was witnessing everything from a much-too-low third-person perspective, but maybe it was actually because he subconsciously recognized that there was someone else in his skin.

If that was the case, he had a pretty strong guess for who could be in there — if Shuuji was in Lopmon's body, it would make sense that the other would be relocated too. But would he have been capable of hiding that he swapped? The bunny was a terrible liar who wore his heart on his sleeve (erm... wrist). Surely somebody — at least Saki — would've known by now or noticed that something was off.

(Unless she did notice and was turning a blind eye to it. She always did like Lopmon more...)

"We're heading out now. Aren't you coming?" Shuuji stiffened. Hearing his own voice coming from "another person" was bad enough, but it made his skin crawl every time it directly addressed him. The discomfort only worsened when he looked up to meet a searching stare that was familiar in all the wrong ways. He really did have his father's eyes; his glasses barely filtered it from this angle.

He shivered, looking away towards the less offensive forest floor. Even when actively avoiding the gaze, he could still feel it piercing through him. Judging him. Studying him for any scrap of worth.

Before he could crack, the other spoke again, quieter than before. "H-Hey, um, are you... are you okay?" Although he sounded genuine, after everything that Shuuji had gone through today, the question felt mocking.

"I'm fine." He definitely could've been better, but he wasn't about to start sharing every little woe the way Lopmon did just because he was in his place.

"You don't sound fine," his double ventured after some hesitation. "You can tell me if there's something wrong. I promise I won't be upset."

There were a lot of things wrong (and the list kept growing) but none that Shuuji wanted to discuss with him. "I'm fine," he repeated, some bite slipping into his words. The sharpness probably didn't help his case, but his insistence was irritating — what was the point in asking if he wouldn't respect his answer? "Like I said before, I'm just tired. It's nothing you need to worry about."

"Right, you did mention that," he mumbled to himself. Returning to his previous volume, he continued, "Well, we're going to need to walk for a while — likely a long while — and we probably shouldn't stop until we find a place for the night."

"I know." Shuuji already resigned himself to that. He was probably going to collapse the moment they did.

"If you start feeling too exhausted to keep going, please, don't be afraid to speak up." Chuckling softly, the other added, "It shouldn't take much convincing to get Saki to carry you."

Absolutely not. It was bad enough to be stuck looking like a stuffed toy; it would be downright humiliating to be treated like one.

Clamping down on his embarrassment (and fear(?)) of the offer, he replied, "I don't think she'd like you volunteering her like that."

"No, it should be fine. I think?" Some doubt crept into the other's voice, but unfortunately not enough to get him to drop the topic. "If it's not... I guess I should be able to do it? If you were okay with it, I wouldn't mind."

...Alright, timeline variation or not, he was not this coddling.

Shuuji eyed "the other him", not bothering to hide his suspicion. Although briefly startled by the sudden glance, the likely fake's expression settled into patient, unguarded softness. It looked far too vulnerable for his face, yet not wholly unfamiliar.

"I can walk." Without giving him the chance to respond, Shuuji darted off towards where the others were waiting. Although not definitively proven, the theory was looking more and more likely...

The walk was quiet. Shuuji wouldn't call it too quiet — as he himself had warned during a similar walk, too much talking could draw the attention of hostile monsters — but it was certainly more so than he expected.

He'd remembered this walk being much noisier, full of questions and chatter between Saki and the kemonogami. This version of events felt more subdued, tamed by an odd tension that enveloped the group. It wasn't the expected sort of nervous tension that came from walking through shadowy, untamed lands, nor the resentful tension he had grown far too familiar with recently. If anything, it felt expectant, as though waiting for someone to say the magic words that would make the unsettling atmosphere normal again.

That wasn't to say there hadn't been any talking at all. He and Floramon had been vocalizing BPS updates as necessary, although they had mostly stopped when they could no longer sense the gotsumon swarm. Alongside and after that, Saki and Floramon had been talking to each other, although never for long. It was almost like they felt they had to talk (perhaps to relieve pressure from the unsettling atmosphere?) but couldn't find a suitable topic to stick with. He also wasn't blind to how they kept glancing at him and the likely fake, even if they pretended they weren't doing so whenever they noticed he was watching.

Fortunately for them, most of his focus had been on that fake. He was outpacing them again; walking far in front with his head moving in constant vigilance. The distance didn't seem intentional, considering that every time he noticed how far ahead he was he'd stop and sheepishly wait for them to catch up. Sometimes there was a teasing remark or comment from one of the girls after, to which he would apologize, only to inevitably zoom ahead again a short time later. It seemed to Shuuji that he wasn't used to the size of his own steps and expected them to be smaller, although that could've been his confirmation bias...

(He'd gone from incidentally seeing himself in Lopmon to actively looking for signs of that beast within "himself." It was so ironic he could gag.)

As the walk dragged on, Shuuji was admittedly getting more than a little tired. Not that he was going to admit it out loud. Pride aside, some intrinsic part of the other's offer still made him feel a sense of dread, although he couldn't put his finger on the exact reason. Perhaps it was the anticipation of how helpless he'd feel being in someone else's grasp (not to mention how weird it would be to be held by one of his juniors or, worse, "himself"), or maybe it was because doing so would be like admitting that he was less capable than the rest of the group (Floramon was only a little taller and she hadn't been complaining).

...No. Those reasons certainly didn't help, but neither really explained the almost phobic unease he felt from merely considering the action...

"Heeey, Shuuji?" Saki called out. "Can we stop for a minute?"

Shuuji barely bit back a reflexive "What is it?" just moments before the fake could jog back and ask the same. Careless. That could've led to some unwanted questions he wasn't yet prepared to address. He needed to pay more attention and watch his mouth to keep from slipping up-

“I’ve been thinking, seeing as we're far enough that we don't have to fear any gotsumon, maybe we can split up to find a spot for the night?”

“What!? No, of course not!”

...or he could just let emotion take over and speak out of turn. He hadn't meant to do so — at least not so loudly — but he did. And the others heard his squeaky outburst. And now they were staring with varying amounts of surprise, concern, and confusion. His cheeks burned, but he couldn’t back down after such a noisy and forceful objection. “We can't split up just because the gotsumon are gone. There are much worse dangers out here.”

“That's true, but I don’t sense anything nearby,” Floramon reported. “Do you?”

“W-Well, no, not now, but still! Something could show up later!”

“I'm going to have to agree with Lopmon; it's too risky,” the fake said. He probably said more things, but Shuuji was too busy reeling from the psychic sucker punch of being called that by "himself" to catch what. He'd thought he'd grown used to it by now (well, resistant would be the better word...), but it was SO MUCH WORSE hearing it from his own mouth.

He came back during Saki’s retort. “But we’re not having any luck sticking in the same direction!"

"I'm sorry, but for everyone's safety, we need to stick together."

"Surely we’d be safe enough if we pair off with our new friends. And it'll double our chances of finding something if we're in twos, right? I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not sleep out in the open."

The fake faltered, seemingly at a loss for how to counter. He wasn't the only one; ending the first day having to do just that was still fresh in Shuuji's mind. Maybe they hadn't been completely in the open last time, but the spot they settled with was still far too obvious for anyone's liking. Only the monsters seemed at all rested by morning, probably thanks to that inhuman sense of theirs providing reassurance that nothing was coming. He and Saki had lacked that luxury, setting them up for a night of fearful uncertainty. Perhaps that wouldn't be an issue for him this time, but that still left Saki and the fake.

Going with her idea could potentially replace their long-term risk with a short-term one, but the split could just as easily end up a waste of time that only increased their chances of getting into danger. Ideally, they should be able to find some shelter without unnecessarily increasing their risk. He could've sworn they passed by a place the next morning that could've worked. Now, where had that been...?

While in thought, he caught the fake giving him a look as though pleading for him to step in with more. Shuuji avoided the gaze. The others needed some level of confidence that they were in good hands; what sort of message would it send them if their leader needed to outsource his arguments to a rabbit? As much as he wanted to step in, it wasn't his place to do so anymore.

Saki took the lack of response as an opening to continue. “Look, I’ll search with Floramon, you go with Lopmon. That way, if anything bad happens, we’ll still have some backup. Something tells me these guys are stronger than they look.”

No, with Lopmon, what you see is what you get; currently, you’d get even less! Shuuji couldn’t protect himself like this, much less… well, “himself!”

Not even Floramon seemed entirely certain of the claim — her chipper expression wavering for just a moment. As quickly as it fell, the mask was back and she chimed in as well. “Don't worry; as long as Lopmon and I are able to sense each other, we should be able to regroup as soon as someone finds a good spot. Or if there’s any problems.”

“I… guess I can’t argue with that,” the fake mumbled, not that he was trying to argue AT ALL! At most he'd given them milquetoast objections! Shuuji sent him a look he hoped would convey his displeasure, getting an apologetic mouth twitch in response. He'd probably have felt less incensed without the acknowledgment — it was confirmation that he knew he was doing poorly, but was just going to give up instead of trying to improve anything!

Never mind the message it would send; weak leadership was better than the completely useless kind!

"This is a really bad idea," Shuuji insisted (since clearly "their leader" wasn't going to). "Some of the stronger ones can hide themselves, and even if we could escape from or fight off one or two, what if there's another swarm? We might not be able to regroup in time before someone gets hurt!"

"I don't think a whole swarm should be able to mask their presence," Floramon argued.

"We couldn't sense the gotsumon in time."

"That was probably the fog's fault. It could've been messing with our senses. Also I was a bit distracted by it..." she ended in a mumble.

"Won't we still be distracted if we're focused on searching?"

"Well, the humans can't sense the other creatures, so we can focus on doing that and leave searching to them. It'd probably be easier for them to spot things anyway."

"Not if it gets too dark to see anything," Saki warned. "It's only getting darker..."

Floramon glanced over to her, then turned back with a sigh. "She's right," she admitted. "I know it's scary, but can we please just try this for ten... fifteen minutes? We don't have to go far; we'll come right back when the time's up."

...She really didn't need to add the patronizing "scary" bit. Still, it was true that the more they argued the less time they were searching and, as Saki said, it was only going to get darker. The girls seemed set on this idea and their minds clearly wouldn't be changing. But at least they had a clearer plan now than when "their leader" threw in the towel. “Alright, fifteen minutes. Just be careful, okay? Stay alert and don’t do anything needlessly dangerous.”

"Same to you," she replied with a small smile.

"We'll be back," Saki promised with a wink. "Play nice while we're gone."

"Of course," the fake said, sounding much too cheerful after his shameful display. "We'll see you then."

Too soon after, the girls were gone, leaving Shuuji alone with himself. And "himself." And a pensive, questioning stare that was impossible to ignore.

Fifteen minutes of this. He'd be lucky to last five...

Chapter Text

"You know," Shuuji observed through his teeth, "we might have better luck finding something if you were looking too."

"Ah! Sorry, I was-! It's just-!" The fake sighed. "Nothing. It's nothing."

Considering the stare that had been drilling into the back of his head ever since they split from the girls, Shuuji highly doubted it was "nothing." He'd go so far as to guess that the fake was deeply troubled by something. And yet, instead of admitting what it was, he'd rather just watch him like a lonely lost child until Shuuji somehow figured it out himself. 

But, hey, if the fake wanted to stay tight-lipped, that was fine. It wasn't annoying at all how he seemed to expect Shuuji to become telepathic. He already became a lopmon; it couldn't be that big a jump. It should happen before he reaches the end of his rope. It's fine.

It's. Just. Fine!

With a much more irate sigh of his own, Shuuji began walking faster. The fake didn't get the hint, maintaining the same distance between them while barely adjusting his speed. Although that reminder of their size difference stacked onto his irritation, at least he had a break from those high beams. The search was enough of a bother without their addition.

As seemed to be the norm by this point, Shuuji hadn't been having much luck finding anything useful. He had noticed several burrows and crevices from his lower position he might've otherwise overlooked — some of which felt unoccupied. That may've been more noteworthy if any of them were large enough to fit a teen and a preteen (plus extras), but judging from just the entrances there was not enough space. A couple seemed like they would've been a squeeze for even his current self!

One would think that since he could spot the smaller stuff, the now much larger hideaways would've been easier to notice. If only he were so lucky... With his field of view reduced as much as his height, he was forced to rely on the fake to do most of the searching, which made it all the worse that he seemed more interested in staring Shuuji down like an animal in a zoo with those wanting, questioning eyes than keeping a lookout.

If you have something to say, just say it! What are you waiting for!?

Not helping his impatience or frustration was his belief that the so-called "nothing" had to be related to the current situation — something like "Doesn't this all seem unnaturally familiar?" or "Why are we in each other's bodies?"

At this point, he was convinced: there was no way the fake couldn't have been Lopmon. Between his painfully non-confrontational behavior, his excessive need to please, and those stares that alternated between uncomfortably perceptive and pathetically hopeless, all signs pointed to that being the case. The only barrier to total certainty was that he refused to admit to it.

Why was he holding back? What was the point in keeping up with the (crummy) charade while they were alone!? That was his body! He couldn't honestly believe he was just a random lopmon! Even if Shuuji couldn't notice any differences between the individuals of a species, one would think a member of that species would be able to; especially when it came to their own body! 

A conspiratorial part of his brain theorized that the reason he was still pretending was because he had something to do with what happened. Perhaps the rabbit believed he was being worked too much or pushed too hard and found a way to switch them around in a "let's see how you like it" sort of thing.

Yeah, a way that somehow involved time travel. Because that was something he was capable of.

What was he thinking? Even if Lopmon could manage it through some secret forbidden arts or a deal with the devil (or devimon) or something similar, it wasn't in his nature to do such a thing. And if "getting even" was his intent, shouldn't he be treating him in accordance with that? At worst, he'd just been giving him those annoying, sad, far-too-scrutinizing looks- and he's starting to do it AGAIN-!

"Maybe you'd be less distracted up front? It's a little hard to lead from the back isn't it?"

"I'm alright," the fake reassured, "You're on watch for danger. With you in front, we should be able to avoid threats as you sense them. No need to stop me or say anything first; you can just change directions and I'll follow. And you aren't blocking my view either, so no worries there."

"Ah. Right." At least the fake had a reason to be dumping his new duties back onto him this time. Outside of general incompetence. "Well, if I notice something, I'll let you know. You don't have to keep watching me."

His apologetic agreement could've been the end of it, however, he did bring up that sense again. Perhaps Shuuji should be the one to nip things in the bud...

"Speaking of sensing, how did you know about that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, humans can't sense any of the beasts out here — it's why you needed me and Floramon to do it, right? But even though you couldn't, you knew that we could. How?"

"Oh." There was a notable amount of disappointment carried in that one word. Shuuji looked back, catching a flash of that same disappointment on his face before it was masked by a strained smile. "Well, that's because the professor told us it was something you could do."

...Seriously? "The professor told you?"

"He knows a surprising amount about you guys." There was a wistfulness in his voice as he continued, "I hope you get to talk to him later; I'm sure you'd like him."

That was not how he knew about the sense; anyone who knew the professor would know that! The professor's knowledge of the kemonogami came through myth — as a historian, not a biologist! It was doubtful that any legends would discuss such an ability.

Shuuji had given him an opening to come clean about who he was and he completely fumbled it, instead continuing with the lie! At this point, it was starting to feel like even if he said flat out who he was, the fake would still cling to this facade! 

Well, if he wanted to pretend to be him so badly, maybe Shuuji should start treating him as if-!

"Do you... not want to be leading?"

"I-!" And just like that, his thoughts derailed. He just had to hit him with the question that always left his mind a warzone of reasons. He knew he should do so — he's the oldest and needs to take responsibility for the group; it's what they expect and count on him to do. But he shouldn't — nothing he had done provided the group any long-term benefit and their final decisions almost always opposed his suggestions. He needs to prove he's capable — no matter how many missteps are made, he'll never improve if he doesn't endure. But missteps can't be tolerated with lives on the line — especially when some resulted in lives lost — and many of the others are far more capable than him; if anything he was holding them back. This was what he signed up to do. He never signed up for this. 

"I... I-It doesn't matter what I want." He didn't have to answer this; there was only one real answer anyhow. "The professor said you're in charge. Besides, you really think the others would want me to lead?"

"Why not? They're nice; I'm sure they'd listen to you."

Shuuji shook his head. Of course he wouldn't get it. "Maybe they'd hear, but they wouldn't listen. There's a difference. No matter how nice they are, do you really think they'd take anything I say seriously? I look like a children's toy to them! With a voice to match!"

"That wouldn't matter!" the fake interjected, sounding awfully worked up about it for a supposed not-lopmon. "Of course they'd listen!"

"And even if I didn't," Shuuji continued, "only a human can lead humans. Why would they want the advice of some weird creature they just met?"

"I'd listen to you."

"Yeah, well, you're different." For many reasons.

The fake grew quiet for a moment. "Maybe you can tell me what you want to say to them, and I can say it for you? They'll listen to me."

"You know, it's starting to feel like you don't want to be leading and are trying to get me to do it for you." 

"That's not it!" he denied far too quickly. "Although... I do admit I'm not very good at it. I don't know if I'm cut out for this..."

As apparent as that was, hearing it said so openly in Shuuji's own voice still stoked his anger.

"It doesn't matter how 'cut out' you are," he growled, whirling back towards the fake. "It's what they're expecting from you; you have to do this! You can't let them down!"

Once more, the fake was startled by his response. This time, his expression shifted into that uncomfortable, soul-judging stare. Shuuji struggled to meet it instead of shrinking away.

Come on, you've weathered worse stares than this. Just think of him as an oversized mirror reflection.

The fake broke first, averting his gaze. "You've got some strong feelings about leading. You sure you don't want to take over?" With a half-hearted chuckle, he shook his head. "No, you're right. Even if I'm not that good, this is something I need to do. It wouldn't be fair... I have no right to complain." Blinking quickly, he forced another smile. "I-If there's anything you think I should be doing to improve, I'm open to suggestions."

Where to begin... "Well, you can start by not leaving everyone behind when we're walking somewhere."

That got him to wince. "Yeah, I need to work on that... I'm not used to being the fastest one in a group and keep thinking I need to hurry up so I don't slow everyone down. But then I look back and you're all so far away..."

"Would've thought you'd remember after Saki called you out for it. The first time? Or at least the sixth. After a while, it started to feel like you wanted to abandon us."

"I wasn't trying to!" he insisted. "And I really am sorry-!”

"Of course you are, but 'sorry' doesn't fix everything! What if those gotsumon really had been chasing us? And what if Saki had fallen and you were too far away to notice? She could've gotten hurt! She could've died! What would you have done then!? An apology can't raise the dead!"

Shuuji probably could've continued, but his tirade was cut short by a sudden icy shock tightening his throat. It felt as though he had fallen through a frozen lake, but instead of getting drenched the water flash-froze to his body. He would've assumed it was an attack, but the fake didn't react as though there was a monster — only flinching from Shuuji's words and looking at him stunned.

"Yeah," he said in a hollow voice, looking away in shame. "I know."

The sudden iciness was melting into something more recognizable. Shuuji had grown far too familiar with the suffocating feeling of grief over the past week, although he had no idea why he was feeling it so strongly now. As far as he knew (and it better be the case), nobody had died by this point, and there was no reason to grieve deaths from the past timeline if everything was reset.

The emotion also felt... off. Disconnected in a way. He was feeling it, but as though it was being pushed into him instead of coming from within... Maybe it was coming from the fake? Was he feeling this grief so strongly that the emotion somehow became contagious? If so, was it a side effect of the switch, or a natural monster thing?

And, even knowing it came from the fake, that still didn't answer the question of why it was so intense now of all times. Did that light scolding really trigger this? Thin-skinned or not, Shuuji's words shouldn't have left him that upset. Had he gone too far?

…N-No, he didn't. He didn't! Even if his words were harsh, they were warranted. He should've known better; if anything Shuuji should've gone further. In the original timeline, it was that kind of inattentiveness when running away that had endangered Saki and led to the professor's death. Drilling in now that he needed to be more attentive could avert such tragedies later. 

It was the right decision! Much better for the long term! Even if at the moment it hurt... much more than it should…

…

How... How long had it been? Were Saki and Floramon still searching?

Shuuji felt for Floramon's vaguely familiar signal. It was on the move some distance away, but not heading in their direction. They must've still been looking around.

More concerning were the other moving signals he noticed, several of which far closer than he was comfortable with. They were unfamiliar, although they seemed to provide a similar feel among themselves — likely all one species; potentially working as a unit. The question was, were they just traveling or hunting?

He wasn't curious enough to wait and find out the answer.

"This way," he motioned away from where he sensed the unknown monsters. "Let's move the search over here."

The fake followed wordlessly, staying like that for some time afterward. It was as though the walk had reset: back to ineffectual searching; back to the uncomfortable stares. Shuuji let them go unacknowledged this time, bearing the discomfort as penance for the unintentional grief he'd caused. 

"You really are so like him..." The fake's quiet musings barely disrupted the silence.

Shuuji stopped walking. "Him?"

The fake inhaled sharply. "Sorry, I was thinking out loud! Just forget it; it's nothing you need to worry abou-!"

"Just tell me!" Shuuji snapped, unable to take it anymore. He must've seemed especially exasperated since even in his current form the outburst made the fake flinch back with an audible clack of teeth. "Stop hiding behind 'nothing' when you've obviously been wanting to say something for a while now! What's stopping you!?"

After a few seconds of blinking silence, the fake remembered how to speak. "I... It's true," he admitted at last. "Something has been bothering me for a while. I've been trying to find the right way to bring it up, but I'm starting to think there aren't any."

"Go on..."

Despite the clear want to speak and Shuuji's invitation to do so, he still hesitated, lips twisting as though testing the words inside his mouth. "Okay. Please don't think I'm crazy." He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Would you believe me if I told you I remember being a lopmon? Partnered with someone who looks just like this? And who had the same name?"

...Well. It couldn't be stated more definitively than that. Shuuji was honestly startled that he said it so bluntly instead of continuing to dance around the topic. 

The surprise must've shown as the fake... as Lopmon was moved to elaborate. "I know it sounds strange and I have no idea how it's possible, but I'm serious. Somehow I've ended up... becoming him? Or fusing into him, or-"

"Swapping with him?" Shuuji provided, his suggestion cutting off Lopmon's ramble. To destroy any ambiguity from his end, he added "It would sound crazy, if I didn't remember the same in reverse."

"S...Shuuji?"

"Unfortunately." It felt much better to be referred to by his actual name again, but it was still really weird to be called it by "himself." Not that any of this wasn't weird. 

"It's you." Any remnants of the "not-Lopmon" mask crumbled as the misplaced monster gave a breathy laugh, eyes watering. "I-I knew it had to be, but I thought-! I didn't know-!" Contagious emotions spiked once more, blazing into an incomprehensible blend of conflicting feelings that settled almost bittersweet. "After everything that happened, I didn't know how much of 'you' was left. This whole time, I thought you forgot everything and the Shuuji I knew was gone."

"Sorry to disappoint."

"Don't say that!" The atypically sharp tone made Shuuji take an involuntarily step back, almost immediately feeling embarrassed for doing so. It was just Lopmon; what was the worst he would do?

Cry, apparently. His words caused the building tears to overflow and the contagion turned more bitter than sweet. "I was so scared! I thought I was alone; stuck in the past and in the wrong body and with a lopmon who had my partner's spirit but no idea who he used to be-!" Voice cracking, he bowed his head and continued shaking in sobs. "I... I thought I ruined everything!"

This was getting uncomfortable. Shuuji was bad enough at handling tears from other people, but it was petrifyingly surreal when that "other person" was "himself." The suffocating waves of grief and guilt he was emitting only made it worse.

"Well, that's clearly not the case," he finally managed to say. "Seems whatever's behind this caused a two-way swap. We're... displaced, but otherwise completely fine."

There was a small nod of agreement as sobs gave way to sniffles.

"Do you have any idea what caused this? Is this some monster ability?"

"I... don't know," Lopmon admitted. "I've never heard of this happening before." 

"Yet you thought it would've caused memory problems?"

"You stopped moving after that monster... did what it did." Lopmon looked sick from his troubling yet unhelpfully vague recollection. "I thought you may've been dying. I've always heard that even if you come back later, most or all of your memories disappear after death."

"I'd think you'd know if I was dead," Shuuji noted. If Ryo's tragedy was anything to go by, monsters didn't tend to last long after the humans they were bound to die.

"I don't know; the whole thing was so confusing! I thought maybe we switched before you died and the disappearing only happens one way!" Lopmon's eyes widened as his words dropped to an anxious murmur. "Maybe... it caused this? Is this my fault?"

"Wait, did you ask someone to do this?" Did Shuuji's outlandish theory actually have some amount of truth in it?

"What? N-No, I didn't! I couldn't!" Lopmon insisted. "But when it grabbed you and did that-!"

"Did WHAT!?" The vague "explanations" were becoming irritating. "I need more details than that! What are you talking about!?" 

Lopmon gave him a puzzled look. "That monster," he repeated, as if that description should've been explanation enough. "The one that I...? Do you really not remember? It was at the dam, right before all this."

Shuuji groaned, head dropping into his paws. Of course! It was just his luck that it all circled back to that damn dam and those foggy incomplete memories!

The reaction seemed to be enough of an answer for Lopmon. "You don't remember. I don't know how you could forget something like that..." He audibly shivered. "Maybe that's a good thing."

"A good thi-!?" Shuuji sputtered, head jerking back up. "Something happened to me at the dam — something that you think could've caused this swap — and you're saying it's better that I don't know about it?"

"B-But I'm not certain it's related! And it was really, really bad! You're not going to like it!"

"When you describe it like that, it sounds even worse!" Shuuji groaned, bringing a paw back to his head. "Look, I don't like a lot of things about this screwed-up situation; so what's one more thing? Just tell me what happened! What did Arukenimon-?"

Upon hearing the name, Lopmon's eyes flashed with the closest thing to rage Shuuji had ever seen from the rabbit. He fell silent on reflex, remaining tense even as the expression turned regretful and Lopmon looked away. "She was there," he stiffly reported. "She didn't help, but I don't think... She wasn't the one who attacked. Not then. There were others."

"And you think one of them...?"

"If any creature's responsible for this, it's probably that one." Lopmon said, voice hollow. After some hesitance, he clarified, "Does the name 'Wendigomon' sound at all familiar?"

It rang a bell, albeit one located kilometers away. With the weight in which it was spoken, it felt as though the name should've completely summoned the monster's image to him, along with the memory of the atrocities it supposedly caused. And yet he still couldn't quite put a face to the name.

But he could certainly place a color: an intense and hungry red. Red claws larger than he was tall clenched in a vicelike grip. Red eyes glowing up at him like pits to the center of the Earth. Red staining a grimace of teeth that looked much blunter than they felt-

Shuuji staggered, his midsection suddenly starting to cramp up. Barely keeping balance, he looked down. No signs of injury. Although still too small, his legs were still there. He... didn't know why he'd think they wouldn't be...

"Shuuji?" He looked back up at Lopmon's weak call. There was a flicker of realization in his eyes, followed by resignation.

It was a pitiful expression. So why was he shaking under it?

“Shuuji, I…” Lopmon trailed off, attention moving somewhere above him. Shuuji followed his gaze to several batlike monsters taking roost in the branches above. Tittering among themselves, they peered down at them with wide smirks. 

Ah. Maybe that was why...

Shuuji backed closer towards Lopmon, mentally berating himself for not paying enough attention to the BPS. It was the one thing he had been tasked with for the search! And after he had made such a big deal about staying alert before they split up too! Adding insult to injury, it felt like they were the monsters he had noticed the signals of earlier.

“Demidevimon,” Lopmon identified under his breath. "They don't usually gather like this unless they're backed up by something stronger."

That information nearly stopped Shuuji's heart. He took stock of what he could sense once again. "I don't feel anything aside from them nearby, but I think there's more incoming."

"We must've wandered too close to a colony. Or something's masking its presence." Lopmon warily eyed the fiends as they exchanged snickers. "They usually don't attack if they think they'll get hurt, but they get bold in big numbers..." He glanced down uneasily. "How're you feeling about the odds? Think we can take them?”

He should at least try. He'd be a hypocrite not to — so quick to call out Lopmon's fear and unwillingness to fight only to act the same in his place. He was the monster now. He's supposed to fight them. But how could he? There's already so many, with more on the way, and he's so-

"I... I can't do it." The admission came out a whimper that sounded as pathetic as he felt. 

"Alright," Lopmon mumbled. "Then do you know where Floramon is?”

Floramon…? Right, he could do that at least. Trying not to pay any mind to new arrivals to the crowd, he searched for the signal that felt vaguely familiar. 

Thankfully it didn't take long and he pointed in its direction. “That way.”

“Got it. Now, let's get out of here.”

Shuuji nodded, preparing to start running once again. Before he could start, Lopmon scooped him up, squeezing him a little too tightly as he lift̷̖̩͕̉e̷̘̓d̵̯̮̩̂͝ ̸̠̝̀̈́͝h̴̰̻̽i̶̠͒m̴̥̺͐ͅ ̸̺̟̓į̸͓͎̋n̵͚̠̕t̸͚͈̯̏̅̿o̵͉͗́̌ ̶̰͌̏̽t̵̯͕͛h̶̟̽ͅe̵̛̽͜ ̶̯͔͚͑ǎ̸̼͔̖ī̴̝r̵̈͝ͅ-̴͇͇̓̍́
 
He was dangling. The air was cold. His face was hot. Blood rushed to his head. His captor stared him down with glowing red eyes. He could still recognize Lopmon in the beast's nightmarish, warped shape. But there was no recognition in those eyes. Although rotten lips were pulled back in a rictus smile, there was no emotion either. Just the hungering dead-eyed stare of a predator, prey helpless in its grasp.

What came next was inevitable. He could do nothing but scream.

There was a sickening crunch and unbearable pain. Bone and flesh alike crumpled within those jaws. He couldn't feel his legs. Were they still attached? His hand was. Somehow. He almost wished it wasn't.

The screams stopped only from a lack of air. His lungs were struggling to find more within the beast. He couldn't breathe. His vision was swimming, as was his head. He couldn't focus on anything but the pain and the hate and the loudness sinking into his thoughts.

Reason was smothered by pain. The bite was infectious. It spread a fiery burn from its points of contact, eating away at everything. Body. Mind. Soul. Instinct moved his broken body; lashing out with anything that still worked. To escape. To survive. To at least cause pain. It hurts! His efforts were useless. Always useless.

The world was a dizzy smear between the beast's innards and the tunnel outside. He was seeing both at once, but with no overlap between the view. Inside was dark, constricting around him tighter and tighter as though molding around him. Outside, the ground was much further away and stained by splatters of red. Blood? His blood? The taste was so strong. Unsatisfying. He was still so empty. He was choking on it. His throat burned. The movement stopped, but it still burned.

The shifting stopped. Everything left was the outside, past the monster's eyes. His eyes. The loud thoughts were starting to drown out his own. Were they still his thoughts? Was he still him? He's losing track. He's scared, but nobody will help him. It was always just pitying looks and sympathetic words; they never really help him. His head lifted. He could see the others. Watching. Terrified. Good. They saw everything. They'd done nothing. He won't do nothing.

They can't stop him! They couldn't save him; so now they won't stop him! He'll make them hurt! Just like he had been hurt! Like how he continues to hurt!

Attack them until they acknowledge him! Attack them until they understand! Attack and attack and attack and attack and attack and…!

Ȃ̷͉̗͕̙̟n̸̖͎̹͘͠d̷̛͉͈͉͈̣͆͑̅͝.̵̰̦̙̽.̷͓̓.̶̩͑̓̐͂Ạ̵͚̟͂̊n̴͍̙̿͆̿́d̶̪̤̪́̑́̽ͅ.̴͔̾̐̌͑.̵̹̠͇̑́.̸̩̈́͑͗̋ͅ
 
A-And...

And he was back in the forest. Back on the ground. Away from all the noise and hate and pain. His mind was his own again, but no thoughts were coming to it.

He shakily lifted his right hand. Paw. Back to a paw, but whole and undamaged. It fell to his hip. Similarly intact. And yet the taste of blood lingered. There was plenty of air, but he could still barely breathe — his nose was clogged and his chest too tight to allow anything more than tiny gasps.

What... What the hell was that?

It didn't feel real, like a nightmare playing out before his waking eyes. A nightmare that he just so happened to feel every part of, as though it bled into reality. Deep down, he knew he wasn't so lucky as to have dreamt it. Even in his darkest moments, he doubted he could imagine anything as brutal as that, consciously or not. Not something that vivid and intense — all that fear, the noise, the pain. 

The pain!

Physically and emotionally, that vision was pure agony. He still felt phantom aches from it, even now as the minutiae faded back into the corners of his memory. As far as he was concerned, they could stay there, guarded by that twisted, red-eyed giant.

Lopmon was right; he was better off not knowing.

Instinctively he knew that was the monster he had been speaking of — that "Wendigomon." Perhaps it was a side effect of when that beast's thoughts overpowered and replaced his own, making it feel as though he had become that creature. Much like Lopmon had become-

No. Even if that same instinct told him the beast was Lopmon in a different form, he struggled to believe it. So what if it looked vaguely rabbitlike; Lopmon... he wasn't like that! He was too timid and weak; he'd never do such a thing! A monster's personality doesn't change that drastically upon evolution! If he ever evolved, all that would've been altered was his level of strength! Would someone as meek as him really become something so abominable after their first taste of power!? 

...Maybe if he had been festering in thoughts as hurt and angry as those had been for a long time...

Assuming those were his thoughts, Lopmon had masked the growing anger so well — from the outside, it was always unwarranted optimism or squealing terror or useless tears from him. Shuuji had no idea that under all of that he was being pushed closer and closer to the edge.

He... probably did more than his fair share of that pushing...

Throughout all of Shuuji's efforts to get some space from the clingy beast and his unwanted "help," he supposed he never really gave him a reason why he should like him; only every reason to the contrary. The excessive attachment seemed to have been baked in, at least until evolution. Was that why Lopmon had been so resistant in evolving? Did he expect something like that to happen? He certainly wished he would've warned him if so...

Perhaps he had taken his kindly nature for granted. Without it, the one thing that might've warded him off was their binding link, but even the possibility of death didn't keep him from... doing that. Perhaps he knew that the act wouldn't have been fatal. Or perhaps he had been pushed so far that he no longer cared if it was.

As was typical with the rabbit, things were hitting too close to home. Unlike the usual reflections he shoved in his face, these similarities felt more nauseating than irritating. 

What did you think was going to happen?

Not that! That was for sure! No matter what he had done to him, surely none of it deserved such a horrific retaliation!

A too-familiar whimper caught his attention, along with Saki's voice requesting "Just let me look at it." They must have regrouped sometime while he was consu- lost in that memory. 

Out of the three, Floramon was closest to him, watching the currently human pair in apprehension. Saki was with Lopmon, examining his forearm while his face twisted in pain. A streak of red stained the side of the limb. Strange... Given the position of the wound, Shuuji should've been hurt too if the other had been attacked while carrying-

Shuuji brought a paw to his mouth. It came away crimson.

...Ah. That explained the lingering taste of blood. 

H-He supposed it was a good thing he hadn't evolved when those bats arrived. If he did, he might've taken off the whole arm. If not cause a repeat of that horrific ordeal altogether.

"Lopmon?" Floramon's voice brought him back to reality. She was trotting over, concern clear on her face. "Are you... back?" she asked, voice low and wary.

"Y-Yeah, I... What happened?"

"Sounds like you two got surrounded by some 'demidevimon?' Shuuji said he picked you up to escape, but once he did you started to panic. He says he tried to calm you down, but you wouldn't stop struggling. And when he still didn't drop you, you ended up..." She gestured back at the other two.

"I bit him," Shuuji finished. That much was obvious. He bit him like some wounded animal, lashing out against someone only trying to help.

What else is new? You've always done that. The only difference is that this time it was physical.

"Right." Her eyes flicked toward his stained paw. "I was worried we'd find you both dead after hearing that scream. Thankfully not. Apparently it scared off most of those bats too, so I guess silver linings?" She gave a weak laugh. "You were latched onto him really tight, even after we found you guys. I had to give you a dose of my Rain of Pollen to get you to let go. Even then, you were unresponsive for a while; I was starting to worry I might've used too much. Are you having any problems breathing?"

He was pretty stuffy, but that would be less of a problem once he's stopped hyperventilating. Besides, he deserved much worse after losing it like that. "Not your fault. Just... Just need to calm down."

"Right..." She bit her lip, looking him over once again. "Are you okay? Aside from the obvious, I mean."

Are you okay. Are you. Okay. You. Are you.

ARE YOU KIDDING!?

The innocuous question left him shaking. Well-meaning as they were, those were the worst words she could've chosen in that moment. Yes, OF COURSE he was okay! Completely unharmed! Much better than that other guy at least! He's the one who got mauled for just trying to help! 

His reaction was inexcusable! He should've been able to control himself! They should be upset with him, not asking if he was okay! Why were they letting it go? Just because he's the lopmon now? So weak and harmless; he couldn't possibly be capable of hurting anyone!

Except he IS capable of it! CLEARLY! Hurting others was practically the only thing he could do anymore! Not their enemies, oh no, maybe then he'd actually be doing something right! But that was impossible; he was completely useless — as a son, as a leader, as a partner, as a monster; apparently even as a food source!

And yet they're giving him a pass?

Why? Why were they like this? Why was HE like this!?

DAMN IT ALL!

Somebody called out, but it was a waste of breath. He had already started to run like the coward he was.

He had no idea where he was going and no idea where he could go. But he couldn't stay there. Not among the others. Not with all that wrongfully focused sympathy and the undeserved pain and the storm brewing inside his head as loud and violent as that monster had been-!

He understood now. It was like Lopmon thought; this was that monster's fault. They had merged during the attack, its thoughts and identity becoming his own. That must've been the point where the switch occurred.

But the attack had also left his real body very broken. Possibly even dead. Was it possible to swap with a corpse? Had it been able to fix the damage? Unlikely.

A far worse explanation was forming in his panic. He may still be inside of that beast — reduced to a thought, trapped in its memories, and forced to play an ill-fitting role for as long as it lives. A final act of vengeance against him for his role in its creation.

Thousands of regrets swirled through his head. What was he supposed to have done? Was there anything he could have done? When had he crossed the line? Was there a time when he could've crossed back? Was there anything he could do about it anymore?

Any hopes of change were dashed as new noises began to batter against the tempest of guilt. Shouting. Panting. Heavy running feet. Something was after him. He was being hunted.

A whimper caught in his throat. Not again! He didn't want to get eaten again!

He tried pushing himself to run faster, but even with the looming threat of death, it wasn't enough. His pursuer was baring down on him; too large and too fast. The monster's face flashed in his mind again, its smile almost looking vindictive as it stared him down with haunting eyes.

As though he needed further handicapping, he tripped on something in the dark. The pursuer lunged; Shuuji screamed.

Nothing.

He looked back.

It was just his... just Lopmon.

He was breathing heavily, good hand extended halfway. As his shocked expression turned to shame, he returned it to his side and took a few steps back.

The knot in Shuuji's chest tightened. He got back to his feet and sta-

"W-Wait! Please!"

He froze.

Lopmon took a shuddery breath. "Please," he repeated in a softer (but still frantic) tone. "Please, Shuuji, don't leave. You don't have to be afraid. Please. Stop running and talk to me."

…Had he ever sounded this desperate? Maybe long ago, back when he still thought he could plead his case and that familial love wasn't bound to success. Trying to talk was pointless then; it would be pointless now. What was there to say? The bridge was already burnt; he struck the match and Lopmon's distorted form devoured any ash left behind. Regardless of the situation, time shenanigans or not, the memories and the baggage they contained remained. Maybe they weren’t all fresh and maybe they weren’t all clear, but even if the actions were undone, it didn't mean they never happened.

And yet, between all the guilt, shame, and exhaustion — both his own and contagious — he couldn't bring himself to run anymore.

Lopmon said he wanted to talk. Assuming those thoughts really did belong to him, the "talk" will probably escalate into more than that. Something far worse. If it did, Shuuji had only himself to blame. He needed to accept the consequences. It was the mature thing to do, even if right now he felt like a child awaiting corporeal punishment.

He took one more deep breath, braced himself for the worst, and turned to meet his fate.

Let's get this over with.

Chapter Text

For a blissful moment, Lopmon thought it had been a bad dream. All of that shouting, the kicking, the all-consuming rage and despair and emptiness...

Gone when he opened his eyes.

He didn't remember falling asleep, much less doing so outside. Maybe he dozed off after his extra training was done? Hopefully he wouldn't get in trouble if so. He was told it was needed because he was weak and had to catch up with the others. Strong creatures like them wouldn't have needed to nap right after finishing, but Lopmon was just so tired. Even now, he still felt drained and achy and he couldn't get his eyes to focus right- 

With a quiet moan, he shut them again. The blurriness was making his head hurt.

At least the spot he found himself in was comfortable. Maybe it was a little out in the open, but he didn't sense anything dangerous nearby. He could stay there until the pain went away; shouldn't take too long. Resting his eyes for a few more minutes shouldn't make any possible scoldings worse...

...Actually, he couldn't sense anyone at all. Dangerous or safe, friends or strangers; even the ever-present pulse from his link to Shuuji was gone.

Suddenly everything felt much less okay.

Frowning, Lopmon stood up. And up, and up, and down with a yelp. 

If he hadn't been awake before, he sure was now!

Memories of the "nightmare" came rushing back. He had finally evolved, just like his partner wanted, but something went wrong. Really wrong. There was so much fear and loathing and desperation flooding through their link that even after his transformation there wasn't any room left in his body for himself. It was like those negative emotions shoved him somewhere deep inside his own head, locking him away while something big and frightening and angry took his place.

It seemed like he had control again — he felt more like Lopmon than Wend- than that beastly monster that replaced him — but he still had way too much leg and arm and... everything to have reverted to his usual self.

He was scared to look, convinced that confirming it would reawaken those dark feelings and trap him away again. Keeping his eyes squeezed shut, he patted himself down. Much to his relief, although slim, his current form didn't feel as sickly thin as That Beast had been.

What really struck him was the texture. It felt hairless, loose, and rough; like an extra layer of skin. Most of the time he'd barely pay attention to such things, but all of a sudden every little bump and crease was so... noticeable!

Finding an edge, he gave it a little tug. It didn't hurt, but it didn't come away either. Apparently, whatever he felt was both separate and attached to him. Maybe clothing? He didn't think The Beast wore any clothes, but Lopmon usually didn't either...

Confusion and curiosity overpowering concern, he risked a look at his hands. They weren't the small paws he was used to, but neither were they the monstrous limbs he was dreading. They were stretched out like the rest of his current form but looked soft and harmless. If anything, they reminded him of human hands. 

He brought them closer to his face, sure his still-blurry eyes were making a mistake. But no, they looked even more humanlike when brought close. Shifting his gaze further up, he noticed bunched-up green fabric that only deepened the comparison.

"'s like Shuuji's..." Lopmon blinked, bringing a hand to his (too smooth) neck. The voice that left his mouth sounded much closer to the boy's than his own. "Why do I-?"

He stopped. He remembered: the hunger, the screaming, how his partner seemed to just... disappear.

Oh no.

The phrase "you are what you eat" rang cruelly in his head as his hands began to tremble.

Oh no, no, no, no, no...

His throat was burning again. There wasn't anything stuck inside (struggling in vain to cling to life), but something sour bubbled at its base. The taste was gross, but still millions of times better than that other taste burned into his memory.

To say that Lopmon and Shuuji had a rough relationship would've been charitable. It wasn't from a lack of trying... well, Lopmon was trying at least. But no matter what he did, his best efforts were never enough.

At first, it was just fear and avoidance. Lopmon didn't understand why Shuuji was so scared of him (he didn't think he looked scary...), but as much as every startled shout and demand that he keep away stung, he didn't hold that fear against him. The humans weren't from this world and, from the sound of it, they had assumed that everyone that lived here were wild and dangerous monsters. Lopmon would've been terrified too if he was suddenly brought to such a place with no way back (although, admittedly, he was scared of a lot of things). Maybe the other humans hadn't feared their partners as much, but he still heard some of his fellows talk about how theirs needed time to warm up to them.

And so, Lopmon was patient. He did all he could to prove his helpfulness and show Shuuji he meant no harm, sure that his partner would eventually notice his efforts and warm up to him too. Only he never did. As time went on, Shuuji only grew colder. Fear turned to frustration; frustration into resentment. By the time they had set out on that ill-fated trip back to the dam, it almost felt like Shuuji despised him as much as their enemies, if not more. Lopmon didn't get it; it wasn't fair or right at all!

It killed him to watch his partner act that way and he had wanted him to understand how much pain that behavior was causing. But that didn't mean-! He never wanted-! He wasn't supposed to-!

Lopmon curled in on himself with a choked sob, hugging the excess leg to his chest. He had only wanted to be accepted, just like the others were. They didn't need to have a close bond, just something better than complete hatred. But he ruined it. Now that will never happen. 

The gross taste was growing stronger. He felt too small in a body far too big.

Shuuji couldn't be dead; Lopmon knew that for sure. The belief was more than denial — even though The Beast... did what it did, the two of them were linked existentially. Lopmon was still alive, so his partner had to be too, but then what happened to him? 

His thoughts jumped between horrific possibilities. Maybe Shuuji was still in his body, trapped somewhere in his own head the same way Lopmon was trapped away by That Beast. Or maybe The Beast's actions triggered an imperfect jogress between them, keeping the mind of one participant and the body of the other instead of creating a perfect fusion of the two. 

Or, could that action have caused them to trade places? He couldn't remember much about what happened after the attacks started flying, but their friends were strong. They would've been able to stop that monster. Perhaps in doing so, they split them apart again, but in the wrong bodies? Or did they have to completely destroy his old body to stop the rampage, and with it...?

Perhaps there was a conomon somewhere, born from his partner's soul yet unaware of his former human self. Maybe he was happier after forgetting that life. And him. And what he had done.

"I'm sorry!" Lopmon cried, tightening the grip around his oversized legs. "I'm so sorry!" 

There was no response, and Lopmon didn't expect one. Regardless, he continued apologizing into his knees: for being so small and useless, for being so weak as to let those dark feelings overpower him, for causing everyone he loved so much pain; for just... being him.

His loop of despair was disrupted when a strong, reassuring hand rested on his shoulder, cutting off his next apology. Reflexively he looked up-

"P-Professor?" 

"Apologies if I startled you." The older human gave him a gentle smile (Lopmon assumed — between the tears and tiredness, his vision was still pretty blurry). "I'm glad to see you are still in one piece."

"I should be the one saying that." With a watery laugh, Lopmon wiped at his eyes. "What are you doing here? I saw you fall and then... I was so worried that you died!" Unless... "W-We're not dead, right?"

The professor chuckled. "I'm a little sturdier than I look. Although I was thrown by the landslide with the rest of you, I've sustained minor bruising at most."

"Landslide?" Lopmon's eyes widened. What did he miss when he wasn't him? "What happened? Is everyone okay?"

"I cannot say; you are the first person I've found since coming to. I can only presume they had been scattered as we were."

From the way the professor was talking, it sounded like he believed Lopmon had been in the landslide too. As hard as it was to remember what happened after that dark evolution, he was pretty sure he'd remember something if he was also caught in it. "Sorry, was I... also there? I don't remember anything like that."

"Is that so?" The professor leaned closer, staring into his eyes. Although Lopmon knew he was a friend, the intensity of the stare made him nervous. It almost felt like he had said something wrong.

The stare thankfully didn't last long before the professor noticed something in the grass. With a quiet "Ah," he shifted in his crouch, leaning to pick it up. "Here. I believe these belong to you."

Lopmon accepted the item, blinking down at them.

Glasses?

…Right, Shuuji had worn those. They must've fallen off his body after getting expelled from The Beast. Or after the landslide, if he really was caught in that. Either way, Lopmon was amazed they were still intact.

"After you put them on, I'd like for you to watch my finger."

It was a weird request, but Lopmon trusted the professor. Keeping questions to himself, he followed his instructions, watching as he drew sigils in the air.

(It occurred to him that everything was looking much clearer as he watched. Maybe this was an eye-focusing technique?)

After several gestures, the professor hummed. "Does your head hurt? Or anything else?"

"Not too bad..." There were some slight aches, but for all Lopmon knew that was natural for this body. It could've been a human thing. Or a Shuuji thing. "Maybe a little sore, but it's nothing serious."

"Good." The older man leaned back. "Well, you don't look to have a concussion. Perhaps you're experiencing a mental block, or there could be an environmental factor affecting your recollection...?" He shook his head. "Theories for another time. For now, we ought to consider it fortunate that we found each other."

Was it fortunate? Lopmon wasn't sure. He was glad to be reunited with the professor, but the surrounding events almost made it feel cruel. His partner was gone, leaving only his body behind — the body Lopmon was now controlling — and right afterward he was found by the person Shuuji had been the most fond of.

While in the middle of a very Lopmonish breakdown.

If nothing else, it disproved the idea that any trace of Shuuji remained in his body. Lopmon was sure that, had he been there, he would've felt his outrage over the circumstances no matter how suppressed he was.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that."

"It's quite alright," the professor assured him, offering him a hand. It was warm as Lopmon took it. "I think you've done enough apologizing for today."

He was wrong — no amount of apologies would ever be enough for what he had done — but the sentiment made Lopmon smile anyway. "Right, sor-" he bit his lip before another reflexive apology could escape. "Right."

"It's perfectly understandable that you'd panic." The professor helped him to his feet, bringing him high once again. It was strange to be able to look the man in the eye while he stood.

He kind of liked it...

"You were the eldest of the students, correct? I'm sure their disappearance has caused you no end of worry, but you mustn't fall to despair."

Lopmon was about to correct him but caught himself. The professor thought he was Shuuji now; the others probably would too. He could tell them the truth (and probably should) but, assuming they believed him, they'd resent him for what he had done as that berserking beast and for taking the place of their friend. 

He didn't want to be hated anymore.

Besides, the group had more need for their leader than himself. The idea of taking up the role terrified him — he was a very comfortable follower, not a leader — but he had given up any right to complain when those jaws snapped tight. In Shuuji's memory, he resolved to do anything he could.

"Yes, that's right."

Those words should've been the end of it: his final moments as Lopmon before abandoning his old identity for an uncertain future as someone else. He thinks he did alright as Shuuji — the professor didn't suspect anything, and neither did Saki when they found her too. He even kept it together when he realized they'd all gone through this before. But it didn't last. His resolve held until the moment he met those confused, horrified eyes that had once been his own.

He knew from the start it was Shuuji — the real, original one. The sensations he had grown to associate with their bond were much weaker (probably damaged by what The Beast had done), but they were unmistakable. However, he could not determine if his partner recognized him too.

Although he seemed quicker to anger than a lopmon usually would be (not that Lopmon knew many others of his species), he acted much more skittish around them than Lopmon would've expected. Combined with how easily he took being called “Lopmon” and spoke as though he wasn't human, he originally feared the other's memories of being Shuuji were gone. And yet, he saw enough glimpses of the boy he knew in the lopmon's reactions and expressions that he wanted to hope.

Lopmon didn't want to ask him outright. Part of it was fear — if he never asked, he'd never risk confirming that he was gone for good. The other reason was less selfish — he didn't want to burden the other lopmon with the knowledge of what was lost if he didn't remember. Besides, if his partner remembered anything, he probably would bring it up first.

In the end he was forced to ask. But his partner remembered (the most important bits at least). Lopmon was wrong and he couldn't be happier.

All of a sudden, it felt like everything could be fixed. Even if they were in the wrong bodies, they were both alive. They could find a way to reverse what happened and build their relationship right this time.

That was a nice couple of seconds. Then came the questions, and the demidevimon, and Shuuji panicking, and the screaming, and the running, and Lopmon almost ruining everything all over again-

But Shuuji stopped. 

He turned.

His eyes were wary, but he was staying. They could talk things out.

If only Lopmon knew what to say…

“You stopped,” he said, if only to break the tense silence. “Thank you.”

No response. Not even a change of expression.

"Are you alri-?" A full-body cringe killed the question before he could finish it. "Right, right, sorry. Dumb question..." Lopmon shifted on his feet, grasping for a new topic. Nothing accusatory. Nothing that'll make things worse. "Um... it's a good thing those demidevimon gave up so fast. I'm getting tired of all this running."

Shuuji looked down but remained silent.

"I'm surprised you still had the energy to run after all the walking earlier. Especially with how tired you said you were. Must've really been scared of... me..." Lopmon cringed; that part probably should've stayed unspoken. The fear was undeniable — nobody would've screamed like that if they weren't in serious pain or terrified — but his partner never liked it when he commented on it.

And yet, his only reaction was a frown and flicked-back ears. A far cry from the hard eyes and defensive retort he was anticipating — something like, “Why would ANYONE be afraid of YOU?”

It's because there's an answer now. The realization reverberated through his core as though roared into his face by That Beast. Shuuji wasn't saying anything because he was afraid of him. Again. And unlike before when Lopmon had no idea why he would've been afraid, now there was a perfectly valid reason for that fear. 

The way he was eyeing him, it was as though Lopmon had never reverted — still stuck as that too-large gangly monster who terrorized and hurt the child he was meant to protect. The same child who now stood before him in resigned dread, as if expecting to be hurt once more. 

He couldn't even reassure him he'd never do so. Because he did.

Lopmon knelt down — he always felt more comfortable when others met him at his level; maybe Shuuji would feel the same. "Shuuji... About what happened back there..."

It was meant as the lead-in to an apology, but Shuuji interrupted as though it was a question. "I remembered a few more things and couldn't handle it." The words came out in a quick monotone. "Everything was... It was too much at once. I needed to get away. Not that I would've been able to," he finished, mouth twitching in a short, rueful smile.

In truth, he probably could've. Although this body was bigger and faster than Lopmon's usual, it had a harder time moving through the denser parts of the forest his partner had fled into. Coupled with how his dark fur blended into the shadows, the chase was more difficult than Shuuji seemed to believe. If he hadn't tripped and done more to try to shake him from his trail — more erratic movements, using the undergrowth to his advantage — Lopmon might've lost him.

"More things from the dam?" The question was more of a formality. Lopmon knew the answer before a hesitant nod confirmed it. "I never asked: how much do you remember from then?"

"Pieces," Shuuji admitted. "Parts from outside. Some flashes of the inside. Arukenimon. ...Wendigomon." He shivered. "I... understand now why you were so hesitant to evolve." 

That wasn't it. Lopmon had wanted so badly to evolve and make his partner happy, but no matter how much he tried to draw energy through their link on his own, the final spark was always missing. Nobody could've expected that would've happened when he finally did.

An apology was behind his teeth, longing to be set free. It remained unspoken. As his own voice had snarled at him not too long ago, there were some things an apology just wasn't enough for. If time had continued normally, there would've been no coming back from what he had done.

"How's the arm?"

"You saw that?" Lopmon winced. He'd been trying to hide the bite — his partner was distressed enough; he didn't need to know about that accidental injury. "One of the demidevimon got a lucky shot at the start of the run, but it's alright. Barely hurts anymore." Truthfully the wound still stung quite a bit (although nowhere near as badly as it did when the teeth first clamped down) and had only just stopped dripping. Lopmon knew that humans tended to heal much more slowly than he and the others could, but hadn't realized just how long it took.

Despite his words, Shuuji gave him a long, dubious look. The expression turned regretful as his attention returned to the wound. "No, they didn't. I already heard what happened. And tasted," he added with a grimace.

...Shoot.

"It's just a little bite! Nothing to worry about!" Lopmon tugged a sleeve over the injury, trying not to flinch as the fabric met tender skin. "Besides, it's my own fault that it happened."

Shuuji's head snapped up once again, eyes wide in disbelief. "What are you talking about? I hurt you! How is that your fault!?" 

"I only got hurt because I picked you up without any warning. For all you knew, I could've been one of those demidevimon or someone they worked for. Of course you would've been afraid; I should've said something!"

If anything, his attempt to reassure only left Shuuji more distressed. "You shouldn't have needed to!" He clutched at his head as though in pain. "I'm the oldest; I'm supposed to be better than that! I should've been able to control myself, but instead I blacked out and-!" He shook his head helplessly, throwing up his hands. "How could I lose it like that!? It's pathetic!"

"Shuuji..." Lopmon felt a strong urge to bring his partner close until he calmed down, but resisted it. Given how an unexpected embrace had started all of this, giving in likely would've made things worse. "It's okay, I know you didn't mean it. You were panicking; you weren't thinking straight."

"Does it matter? Regardless of the intent, I still hurt you!"

"I-I've been hurt worse!" Lopmon grimaced. That sounded really bad, even to him.

Unsurprisingly, it was immediately denied with a shake of the head. "And that's supposed to justify it? Those other times, you were hurt by enemies. We're supposed to be on the same side, and I still-!" He looked away, eyes glassy and distant. "It's no excuse. Not for any of it..."

...Were they still talking about the bite? This suddenly felt a lot heavier than what that single, terrified reaction deserved.

Too heavy for him to address with anything more than a quiet, stammered "R...Right..."

The air was thick. So much remained unspoken; so much still needed to be said. But now was not a good time for it. Not when wounds and emotions were so raw.

"We should head back. Saki and Floramon'll be worried."

Shuuji nodded stiffly, his attention still somewhere far away.

"What should we tell them about what happened?"

He got a half-hearted shrug in response. "That's up to you. You're the one put in charge this time."

"A-About that... Should I really be the one leading?"

The question seemed to relight some embers. "It's not like we have a choice; everything I said during the search stands."

"But you also said that only humans can lead humans! I'm not human! I don't know how they're supposed to act or think or... anything about them!"

"As far as everyone else is concerned, you're me, which means you are human. And I'm not." Despite his insistence on the point, the tone made it obvious Shuuji was as thrilled by that fact as Lopmon was.

"We could correct them." The suggestion seemed to get his attention, so Lopmon continued. "I was pretending to be you because I thought I had to, but you're still here. We could tell them the truth. Maybe not everything, but at least about the switch. Something like, when you got pulled into this world, something weird happened and swapped us around. We were too scared and confused to say anything at first, but now that we've calmed down and realized it happened to both of us, we wanted to sort things out." 

For a moment his partner said nothing, considering the suggestion. Then, he shook his head, some firmness returning to his face. "No. We're not getting anyone else involved. This wasn't caused by the ability of a future enemy and isn't anything contagious, so this doesn't affect them at all. There's no reason for them to be dragged into my mess."

OUR mess... There was a finality in his tone — no room for argument — but Lopmon still felt the need to speak. "Are you sure? The others might be able to help-"

"And what would a bunch of middle schoolers be able to-!?" Shuuji started to say before something flashed in his eyes. Lopmon couldn't quite determine what it was — Frustration? Regret? More fear or guilt? — just that it caused him to sigh and restart with less heat. "That is, even if they knew, it's not like they could do anything about this. We'd only cause them to worry. Besides, if what happens this time is anything like before, they'll have enough problems to deal with. We don't need to give them any extras."

Lopmon could understand his partner's reasoning — he didn't want to cause trouble for the others either — but he couldn't help but worry if this was the best decision. "So we can't let anyone know? Ever?"

"Never!" The response was quick but second-guessed just as fast. "Well... Not now. Let's keep this to ourselves for now. After everyone's regrouped, if things are any calmer than before, we can revisit the topic. Ideally, this gets fixed before then. Realistically, we can figure out our next steps later."

"Later. Got it." That sounded better, but there were still some concerns. "What if anyone finds out or starts asking questions?"

"They won't." Another fast response, but this one was much more certain. "Bodyswapping doesn't... well, it shouldn't happen in reality, so they'd only find out if one of us tells them. And nobody will think anything's strange. I wasn't that close to anyone before all this began, so for all they'll know, the way you act is how I am when I'm not chaperoning. If you're doing well enough to pass around Saki, you should be fine with the others."

Lopmon brightened — that almost felt like a compliment.

"Honestly," Shuuji continued with a shrug, "even if they call you on anything, you should be able to get away with it by blaming it on stress. Again, this sort of thing's supposed to be impossible. What sounds more likely: that I'm acting weird because of all the craziness going on, or that I was replaced by someone entirely different?"

"When the professor found me, he thought I had a 'concussion' or a 'mental block.' Are those things I could blame too?"

The question caused him to freeze for a moment. "In... extreme cases, I guess? I- You weren't actually concussed, right?"

"He didn't think I was," Lopmon said, which seemed to be enough reassurance. "As for me, I met Floramon a little before finding you, and everyone else was a complete stranger. You could probably act however you want and it'll be fine; they've got no expectations."

That got a not-quite-amused exhale from his partner. "No expectations," he echoed. "Can't remember the last time that was true."

"Right now!" Lopmon chirped, smiling. Finally, a positive response to his words! Shuuji even seemed to have a faint smile of his own-

And it was gone. Now he was just staring...

"Is something wrong?"

Shuuji startled, avoiding his gaze as if he was caught doing something he shouldn't. "No, I'm fine! Better than before! Hard to be worse..." He forced a cough. "A-Anyway, we've kept the others waiting long enough!" With that declaration, he rushed past his legs.

"Wait, but we never decided what to say-!"

"Only what we need to," Shuuji said, still continuing to walk away. "I had a breakdown after the bite, you followed to calm me down, we talked things out; everything's better now. Let's go!"

Lopmon followed, turning the words over in his head.

Everything's better now? Everything?

He supposed emotions were calmer, but he wouldn't say everything between them was "better." Sure, things weren't any worse than before — hard to go lower than near murder — but it still didn't feel right. Shuuji was being much more cooperative with him, but there was still an underlying unease to it. It was like he expected The Beast to replace him again if he said or did the wrong thing. Lopmon supposed he didn't have the right to complain about lingering fear after what happened and it was better than being hated, but he didn't like it at all. As much as he disliked the bitter, resentful side of his partner, this new version, restrained by fear of retribution, still hurt to watch.

Maybe it was naive and a little selfish to want things to be even better — to form a decent- no, a good relationship with his partner, free of any fear or hatred at all — but he was determined to find a way. By some miracle, after both of their darkest moments, they were given a second chance to make things right. Lopmon would not let it go to waste.

Chapter Text

"What a pitiful sight."

"You were supposed to be our leader; you were supposed to bring everyone home alive. Instead, you cracked under the pressure and let yourself become some mindless beast."

"How could you give up like that? You should've been with us! Why weren't you there when the Kenzoku-!?"

"...Useless. You probably can't understand what I say anymore." 

"It's okay. Even if what you've done is unforgivable, we're all together again. I'll fix your mistakes too. Just like I always do. We were friends, after all."

"Nobody will have to suffer anymore, not in either world."

"I won't fail like you did."

Shuuji awoke with a start, the almost-threatening promise still ringing in his head. The first thing that registered was a sour scent. The second was the giant looming over him.

He barely bit back a scream, scrambling away from the massive figure as his ears drew back in fright.

...As his ears drew ba-!?

Oh, right. The switch. He was still... And that was just...

Shuuji sighed in not-quite relief, ears going slack once more. He really needed to stop getting spooked by his own body. 

As his panting breaths returned to a reasonable speed, he swept a look across their shelter. Still just the four of them: him and Lopmon on one side, Saki and Floramon on the opposite. Good — with how vile the place had smelled, he had been concerned that the supposedly abandoned hole-in-the-ground den the girls found was not as abandoned as they believed. Even after growing nose blind to the scent overnight, there was still an obvious unpleasantness in the air. Then again, considering nobody else had commented on it, perhaps it was only noticeable to his current form (another "perk" of the swap...).

Although beggars couldn't be choosers (especially by that point of the night), Shuuji was sure that, had he been in his right mind, he would've fought harder against choosing the so-called abandoned location. However, after the madness of yesterday, he had been too drained mentally, physically, and emotionally to do anything more than sleep. It felt as though he had been running on autopilot ever since the end of Lopmon's (far-too-lenient) confrontation, and the moment he crossed the threshold of the den both his legs and his consciousness gave way.

Given that he was now much further inside, somebody must've brought him deeper in after he collapsed. At least they put him down again after — given yesterday's events, waking up in somebody's arms would've been awkward at best and dangerous at worst. 

His eyes wandered back towards his still-sleeping real body. Lopmon. His back was to the dirt wall, but the rest of him was slumped forward in a way that made him look more "knocked unconscious" than "comfortably asleep." The splayed limbs and askew glasses only furthered... the...

Oh, for the love of-!

With some clumsy pawing he was amazed Lopmon could sleep through, Shuuji retrieved his glasses. His spares were still in his pack in the not-rundown school; the last thing he needed was for his only pair in this world to get broken. Especially while Lopmon was stuck piloting his body; he did not need him to be fumbling around half-blind. 

After stashing the lenses in a safer location, he returned to investigate the wound. With the blood cleaned away, it didn't look as bad as before. That wasn't to say it looked good (the flakes of blackish purple already beginning to color the puncture site promised a nasty bruise), but at least it didn't look infected. All things considered, it could've been far worse.

All things considered, it never should've been made.

...

He needed some air. The smell was becoming suffocating.

Predawn provided sparse light through the leaves, just enough to guide him deeper into the woods. He didn't plan to go far — not alone — but he needed to find a more private location to clear his head and prepare.

Obviously, the switch hadn't fixed itself overnight. He secretly had hoped it would, but he supposed that would've been too unrealistic. Such a vengeful creature wouldn't make its punishment that easy to undo, even if as Lopmon he seemed to want it undone almost as much as Shuuji did.

Seeing as he was still a monster, it was time for him to start getting serious about his new role. Even if Lopmon was right and the others had no expectations for his behavior, they would certainly believe that this was his natural body and expect him to have full control of it. He could only fake it for so long, especially when it was only a matter of time before they got attacked again. If nothing else, he should at least figure out the bare minimum of combat before then.

After reaching a sizable clearing, he surveyed the area. Close enough to the den to sense the inhabitants, nothing unknown en route, ground clear of debris... Yes, this would do for his purposes.

It was time for some remedial monster self-study. Lesson one: producing attacks at will.

He took a deep breath, trying to summon forth the freezing burn that overwhelmed him while pinned underneath the gazimon. Something fizzled in his chest, both hot and cold at once. So far so good...

"Blazing Ice!"

The call echoed through the trees, but there was no icy blast to accompany it. At most, he could feel a tickle in the back of his throat as the contradictory feeling sputtered out.

Great start.

He clicked his tongue, shaking off the disappointment. This was why he was practicing. It was unreasonable to assume he'd get it perfectly on his first attempt, although he had hoped he'd at least produce something...

Maybe the timing was off? Or maybe the call to release needed more power and emphasis? Breathing in and digging deep once again, he tried some variations. "Blazing Ice! Blazing... Ice! Blazing! Ice!" 

Nothing.

Attempts and variations continued but to no avail. By this point, he was just screaming himself hoarse.

When the next call came out strangled (and he again failed to produce anything), he flopped back in frustration. It shouldn't be this hard! Back with the gazimon, it was practically instinctive! It felt like he had the charge down so he must've been missing something about the release, but what!?

He sighed through his nose, forcing his jaw to unclench. This was an ice attack, and he was getting far too heated. His frustration was probably melting away any ice he could've produced, blazing or not. He should try again later, after he cooled down again. In the meantime, he should focus on something else. Maybe something a little more basic?

His eyes shifted towards his ears, both sprawled limp in the grass. Considering they took up two-thirds of Lopmon's body mass, it wouldn't hurt to gain some finer control of their movements. If nothing else, doing so should keep them from catching on everything or from being yanked and grappled by more handsy enemies.

Speaking of...

Rolling over, he tugged the right one in for closer inspection. Despite the beating it had taken from the gazimon's claws and electricity, it was in remarkably good shape less than a full day later. The only remnants of the attack appeared to be a few light scratches, themselves obscured by fur. 

"He really does heal fast," Shuuji mused. He supposed it made sense — Lopmon tended to use those ears to strike and defend when fighting up close, so they must've been able to take a beating if necessary. 

As he sat up, he tried to wrap it across his chest without any external assistance. At most, he succeeded in causing it to shift closer and roll onto its side. A small jerk of the head succeeded in bouncing it into his lap, where it lay draped across his legs like a loose blanket. He couldn't help but scoff at the sight.

All the reach of an arm; all the control of a wet noodle...

After that limp display, he was braced for a long practice session. And yet, when he started to focus on their movement, he found them easier to manipulate than expected. The noodle analogy fit — he had complete control at the base (where he was "holding" them), but the further they stretched the less direct control he had. With that understanding, he was able to figure out some basic movements such as simple sways and wraparounds.

He was about to move on to some more advanced, combat-oriented practice when he was interrupted by a voice.

"You're up early."

Shuuji jolted, but the alarm faded as soon as it appeared. He knew who that was.

"I could say the same to you," he said, inclining a greeting to Floramon.

"Well, you know nightmares." She laughed weakly, almost looking pained by the recollection. "Had some... really nasty ones last night. Those woke me up, and then I realized you were gone. I started to worry something might've happened, so I came out to look for you." 

"Nothing's wrong. Just wanted an early start." It was a half-truth, but he didn't want to bring up his own nightmares, even if the latest one was more confusing than personal.

He had been in an almost spacelike void speaking to (well, more being lectured by) a creature he'd never seen before. He couldn't quite remember the words, but he could recall its voice had sounded almost familiar and equal parts pitying and scornful. From the few details he could remember of it — specifically the hateful red eyes and far too many mouths — he couldn't help but draw comparisons to that nightmarish evolution. Perhaps it was a further distortion of that beast by his subconscious? In which case he definitely didn't want to talk to her about it.

Floramon cocked her head, giving him an odd look. "You wanted an early start for... ear stretches?"

"Well, that's... part of it..." It sounded ridiculous when she put it that way. Still, as silly as that summary was, he was thankful she only saw that and not his horrendous display of failure prior. "I was practicing some other stuff too; that was just the part you came in for!"

“There's no need to be embarrassed about it." Despite her words, she was still clearly amused by the idea. "It makes sense, I just wouldn't have thought to do it. Then again, I don't have any, so…” With a small, thoughtful frown, she brought a hand to where an ear would've been. After a moment, she shook her head. "I'm just amazed you were able to get up. Would've thought you'd be sleeping 'til noon. Weren't you exhausted yesterday?"

"Yes, and now I'm not." Before she could pick at his explanation any further, he added, "Besides, I couldn't sleep in for that long. We'll be heading out again when everyone's awake; I wouldn't want to keep everyone waiting."

"You wouldn't have," Floramon said. "You're small enough. If you needed to sleep, I'm sure someone could've car...ried... oh." Her face flashed in realization that gave way to a wince. "Sorry. I guess you might not want to do that after last night."

"I'd rather not..." Shuuji could already feel a knot in his chest tighten from the suggestion.

Floramon nodded, face clouding with sympathy. After a moment, she said, "Speaking of, I've been meaning to apologize."

"What for? It's not your fault any of it happened."

"But the demidevimon attacked while we were split up, and I had been pushing so hard for us to do so..." She looked down at her feet. "And you only ran off after we talked... I feel like I might've said something wrong."

Why did everyone insist on acting like he had no agency in last night's events? "We all agreed to split up, so don't blame yourself for that. Even if we didn't, they still could've ended up attacking, and you and Saki were able to find that den because we did. As for what happened after that, I have a feeling I would've run off no matter what was said. Or even if nothing was said." He gave her as much of a smile as he could manage after recalling that mess. "If anything, you're the reason I'm still here. You stalled me long enough that the others noticed before I made a run for it."

"Actually, my calling after you might've been what got them to notice." After a moment, she added, "They were... pretty occupied."

"Either way, I should be thanking you. If you weren't there, I'd probably be lost or in someone's stomach by now." Again...

"That wouldn't have happened," she assured. "Even if we lost track of you, we wouldn't have slept until you were found."

"Maybe so," he relented. He supposed her senses would've made it possible, assuming he wasn't killed while in his blind panic.

Floramon seemed pleased that he agreed, but after a moment conflict bled into her cheerful expression. "While we're on the topic... How did it go? When Shuuji caught up to you, I mean."

"Better than expected." Much better. Unsettlingly so. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop...

"You looked really out of it when you two came back," she noted with a frown. "That... It wasn't because of anything you guys talked about, right?"

...Was she implying-!? "Not at all! It's like he said last night, all that happened was he helped calm me down and we talked things out! I was just... overwhelmed by it all..." By guilt, by self-revulsion, by irrational thoughts that made so much sense at the time... What a mess of a night.

"So, during the talk, he didn't say or do anything that made you feel afraid?"

"Of course not!" Nothing intentionally anyway. Shuuji had been bracing for the worst; for Lopmon to take him to task for the bite and any number of the many slights he had made against him. With their positions flipped, now was the perfect time for him to retaliate, and he had every right to do so.

And yet, by the end of it, he had torn into himself much more than Lopmon had. If anything, it felt like the rabbit had done everything in his power not to blame him, even though everything had been his fault. He had no idea why he was holding back — he was in his head, he felt that rage toward both the world at large and at himself. There was no way feelings that intense could disappear entirely.

Despite his own mistrust, he couldn't help but feel hurt by Floramon's questioning. She didn't know their history and Lopmon hadn't done anything that should've warranted such suspicion. Was he just naturally untrustworthy?

"Were you... expecting him to?" 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stress you out." She glanced away, running a hand down her arm. "It's just... he was shouting a lot when he went after you, and I... Saki told me he could be pretty harsh sometimes. So I wasn't sure..."

That was the common consensus from the group, especially after they ended up in this world. He wasn't deaf to their opinions: they thought he was too harsh, too uptight, too blustering; sometimes even too cruel. He wished he didn't have to be, but times were desperate. His insecure, fearful self was inadequate for the challenges of this world, and it was made clear to him early on that if he wanted to keep the others safe, he needed to be more forceful. Perhaps such behavior wasn't popular with the rest of the group, but it was more effective than the alternative. As long as it kept everyone else alive and well, he would gladly... he would be fine with... he would tolerate being considered a tyrant. 

"He didn't do anything; he was just worried about me." For some reason... "And I'm sure he has good intentions for any... harshness. Maybe he's just trying to make sure people listen and don't do something they shouldn't."

"Maybe, but if it was me, I wouldn't want to listen to someone acting like that. Would feel more like they're being a jerk than trying to help."

"I'm sure he doesn't mean it that way..."

"I'd be surprised if he did. I don't think anyone tries to be mean. There's usually some reason, like they're scared or upset..." With a sad sigh, she quietly added, "I get the sense that he's a really fearful person."

Shuuji snorted. "Can you blame him? He's the leader; he's supposed to keep everyone safe. This was only supposed to be a school trip for them, but then they ended up out here. He's separated from most of the others and surrounded by so many dangers he never could've imagined. Of course he's out of his mind with fear; if anyone ends up dead, it's on his hands."

Floramon stared while Shuuji realized just how much he let slip during his outburst. That reaction was too personal and far too vulnerable. Yesterday really shook him; much more than he thought... 

"A-At least, that's what he said during our talk."

That seemed to work to break the stunned stare. She shifted her look to the ground. "I don't get why he wouldn't tell them..." she murmured. "They'd understand if he'd just reach out instead of pushing them away."

People always said things like that, up until their leaders brought up such issues. It was a bitter truth that a leader was expected to guide others through their problems and not expect aid for their own.

"A leader needs to be strong and unbothered by those things," he summarized with a shrug. "That's what he said anyway. But he told me, and that's why I'm training out here. If I can get stronger — strong enough to protect everyone — he won't have to be afraid. Well, as much."

Floramon said nothing, a pensive look on her face. He turned to avoid the stare.

"You can head back to the others. I'll be done before morning."

"How about we train together?"

Shuuji looked back. The earlier gloom that shrouded her face had been burned away by a fiery determination.

"Together? Like with sparring?" 

“Exactly like sparring," she confirmed with a smile. "If both of us were stronger, he'd have even less need to fear. Besides, I could really use some more practice before something seriously dangerous comes around."

"You'd be alright. You're looking really skilled from what I saw." A lot better than he was at any rate. She'd blow him out of the water for sure.

"Does it look that way?" Floramon giggled in uncertainty. "You might be giving me too much credit. And, anyway, there's always room for improvement, right?"

"Suppose that's true..." On one hand, he would probably need to avoid special techniques altogether if training against her — a monster struggling with a natural ability would raise a lot of questions. But on the other, that sort of practice would be better preparation for real fights, so long as they both took it seriously.

"Alright, but on one condition: I want you to attack me like you mean it. No kid gloves; no pulling punches."

"Are you sure?"

Wouldn't be asking if I wasn't... Suppressing the annoyed remark, he instead said "The enemies won't be holding back on us, so we shouldn't prepare for less. Besides," he added, shifting into a defensive stance with a wry grin, "maybe I'll defend better if I know it'll hurt."

Floramon slowly adjusted into her own, maintaining an uncertain look towards him the whole time. 

"First to three direct hits to the head or body; anything goes." At her tentative nod, he called the first round.

"Are we avoiding attacks for a reason?" Floramon asked at the end of a match.

"Were we not attacking each other?" Shuuji's aching body would certainly argue otherwise. Despite her early unease and apologies when she hit "too hard," Floramon was sticking to the condition. 

"No, I mean like attack attacks," Floramon explained. "Like your ice thing." 

"Ah." He was wondering when she'd bring that up. "I wanted to focus on my hand-to-hand today... or, I guess, ear-to-tentacle? But there weren't any rules preventing it. Why?"

"There was something I wanted to try, but I wasn't sure if it was allowed." She looked up at the sky. "Something for next time maybe. We should probably start heading back."

Judging by the current amount of light, it did seem that dawn had passed. The physically-human pair would likely be waking up soon, and it would be best if they got back before then. That said, he was a little curious about her idea. There were only so many ways pollen could be used. Unless she had some other secret attack...?

"Let's try it out. I've got enough in me for one more round."

Floramon nodded, trotting over to her starting position and holding her hands out towards him. If he were to guess, as soon as he calls the start, she'd be launching her attack.

That... couldn't have been it. It was too predictable and would be easy to avoid; he should be able to just cut around her and launch a counterattack from behind...

"Begin!" 

As expected Floramon immediately began to call her attack. Shuuji bolted to the side, but she did nothing to adjust besides following him with her eyes.

The lack of reaction made him hesitate, just long enough to catch a wink. As she finished with "-Pollen!" her arms snapped to her sides, emitting a thick fog of yellow all around her.

Shuuji hopped back to keep out of range, only creeping closer when the cloud stopped billowing. So this was the idea: a more defensive use for her attack. It should be useful in emergencies but, on its face, it seemed limited. She'd need to remain inside to be protected, leaving her immobile and unable to fight ba-

A tentacle whipped out from the fog, snapping against a shoulder milliseconds before it could be blocked. As a bonus, it brought along some pollen that snuck into his gasp of pain, leaving him hacking.

"It is long enough!" Floramon cheered from inside the cloud.

Alright, he took it back: it was more versatile than expected. Still, it was a temporary shield. Eventually the powder had to settle, unless she reapplied constantly. And if he kept out of range-

-she'd burst out from the cloud with a wide grin, hands still directed down as she called her attack once more-

Shuuji scrambled away, but couldn't quite escape the blast radius, nor a lash sent at his legs that left him rolling. Despite his burning eyes and throat, he managed to regain his footing in time to repel her next and could've-been-final strike with a full-body spin.

Spinning...

He had a faint memory of Lopmon whirling at high speeds into an enemy, spinning so fast he could swear he was replaced by a small tornado. Perhaps if he could replicate that, he could blow through the pollen shield.

Taking and holding a precautionary breath, Shuuji began spinning toward the cloud. Already he could feel it wasn't right — he was moving too slow and his ears were too limp. Maybe it would swat away some of the cloud, but it wouldn't blow anything away. He was moving more like a dog chasing his tail or a large top than some Tiny Twister-

Never mind, suddenly he was moving much faster!

Blinding winds picked up around his spin, increasing the rotation to unmanageable speeds. He was moving so fast that he lost track of where he had been going and, eventually, his footing.

With an alarmed shout, Shuuji stumbled out of the spin. The sudden whirlwind launched in the opposite direction of his fall. Fortunately, it managed to hit the cloud of pollen, dispersing it as intended. Unfortunately, it also hit Floramon, sending her flying some distance away.

After a moment of processing what happened, Shuuji ran after her. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry!"

"Why're you apologizing? That was great!" She rubbed at her back, but otherwise seemed just as chipper as before. "No holding back, right?"

"Still, that was much more than I expected. You sure you're not hurt?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine..." With a mischievous grin, she poked his forehead. "Can't be too upset after I've just won."

He stared at her hand in disbelief. "It's nice to see your priorities are in order."

Floramon chuckled at his dry response, only to stop suddenly as she looked at the ground. When she looked back at him, she was much less cheery than before. "Something tells me these aren't your pawprints..."

"Pawprints?" Shuuji looked down as well, heart sinking the moment he saw them. There were two sets of prints — the smaller, more numerous set left long clawed imprints, while the larger ones were far too familiar.

"No, my paws aren't that big," he said with a swallow. He almost forgot that the time reset meant some less friendly faces would be alive again as well; including a certain sadistic pack leader who took far too much interest in them on the second day.

From the look of it, they'll be dealing with him again soon. He could only hope that he and his pack hadn't noticed them yet, but he wasn't holding his breath.

"They might be looking for us. We need to head back before they find the den." 

He dared not mention the possibility they already knew where it was.

Chapter Text

From how much pressed-in panic Shuuji could feel during their hurried return, he half-expected to see an army of canids gathered at the front of the den awaiting their arrival. Fortunately, as the sloped earthy entrance came into view, there wasn't a single predatory beast in sight. The interior was monster-free as well (technicalities and present company aside), only containing the duo they had left behind. 

One was still asleep, maybe just beginning to stir. The other was very awake. He was still sitting against the wall, alternating between rubbing at his eyes and drawing shapes in the air. Every time he switched between the two, the movements grew more frantic and his shared distress buzzed louder and more urgently. 

"What the heck are you doing?"

"Nothing!" Lopmon startled at his voice, slamming his hands against the ground at his sides. Given that he then brought his injured arm closer to his chest with a quiet hiss, it was a tad too forceful. "I-I mean, good morning, you two. Sorry, I think I've got some dirt in my eye? Or something like that. Just need to get it out. Nothing's wrong." 

Shuuji exchanged a look with Floramon, who seemed equal parts concerned and baffled. "Do the... hand signs? Help with that?" she asked.

"It's probably a pain response," Shuuji answered before Lopmon could say something even less convincing. "Go wake your partner; I'll take care of... whatever this is."

With a parting "good luck," she went to coax Saki awake. With a steeling sigh, Shuuji approached the monster-turned-human. 

"Seriously," he hissed once sure she was out of earshot, "what are you doing?" 

The response was a hysterical whisper: "I broke your eyes again!"

Shuuji blinked. Twice. "What are you talking about?"

"Everything's all blurry and not focusing right and I can't fix it! This happened yesterday too and the professor was able to get them to focus again, but I can't remember the patterns he did!" Lopmon's forehead pressed into his knees. "I didn't know this would happen again! I should've paid more attention!" 

It took a couple of seconds for Shuuji to process his rapid stream of words. After he did, he brought a paw to his head with another, heavier sigh. "No, this is normal. Nothing broke. Not from a lack of trying, mind you..."

The external pressure ebbed as the rabbit's wild look was replaced by a curious squint. "This happens a lot?"

"Everything's fine, just give me a second..."

Intrigued eyes followed Shuuji as he retrieved his glasses from their hiding spot. Lopmon accepted them in a way that would definitely leave prints (and, even knowing he wouldn't be dealing with them, Shuuji grimaced at the grab). After putting them on, his eyes widened.

"Oh," he breathed, removing and replacing them once more. "So that's what they do."

"What did you think they were for?"

"Eye protection?" Lopmon continued fidgeting with the frames, pushing them further up and down his face. "Either that or some kind of accessory like Takuma's."

Shuuji made a mental note to explain the difference between glasses and goggles to him later. Along with any other common knowledge human things a monster wouldn't know. ASAP.

"But it's strange," he continued to himself. "I thought I had them on when I fell asleep. How'd they get over there?"

Hearing the girls approach, Shuuji shifted into a conversational volume. "You must've been so tired you forgot to take them off last night. They looked like they were going to fall off this morning, and I remember you said you need them to see right and don't have any spares if they broke." He dropped to a sheepish mumble but maintained firm eye contact. "I moved them somewhere safe so they wouldn't get lost or crushed or anything, but I guess the spot I found was too safe..."

After a moment, Lopmon gave a slight nod. Message received. "I see. Then, thank you for looking out for me. Please, just warn me next time, okay?"

Although he returned the gesture, Shuuji gave him a look that he hoped would convey there better not be a "next time."

"Speaking of warnings," Floramon interjected, "we've got a problem."

As she recapped their situation, Shuuji thought back to their original second day. The day had started off strong when, shortly after they had woken up, the professor had stumbled upon them. It took a nosedive not long after when so too did Fangmon and his pack. Seeing them as "unique prey," they stalked them further and further into the forest, only briefly losing their trail when the professor acted as a decoy to lure them away. The reprieve was short-lived as, although his sacrifice drew the attention of the less intelligent monsters, Fangmon himself didn't take the bait. He continued to stalk them until they were cornered at that accursed dam, but before he could close in for the kill, both the professor and Takuma's division of the group had found them again. The additional power of three evolved beasts was enough to drive away the wolf, but not before that monster sent the professor plummeting to his death.

Because you ran. Because you weren't paying attention. Because you weren't doing what you were supposed to-

Shuuji shook the chastising thoughts away. Now wasn't the time to fixate on that. Those actions were undone, and now they had the opportunity to ensure they would never happen again.

The easiest way to do so would be to avoid the dam altogether (goodness knows he'd shed no tears if they never went back). But that had been where their groups reunited. The forest was huge — they might miss each other completely if they went to a different part of it. That said, by this point, everyone but himself, Saki, the professor, and the Shinonome siblings should have taken up residence at the school, so if they went straight there they could regroup in that way. But depending on when Agumon and Falcomon first evolved, they might be lacking in firepower if the pack followed them there...

...He supposed it wasn't really his place to be thinking about all of this. He and Lopmon had agreed to keep their switch a secret, which meant sticking with the roles tied to their appearance. That meant Lopmon was the one tasked with planning and leading. He could still offer suggestions, but it was now the other's job to build something from them. Although Shuuji wasn't expecting anything impressive, for once the rabbit's fearful nature may work to their advantage. If nothing else, it should keep him from suggesting anything crazy and life-threatening.

Said monster hummed as Floramon completed her explanation. "Are you sure they know we're here?"

"Not really," Floramon admitted. "We only saw their tracks and could sense some gazimon on the way back, but we don't have confirmation that they know."

"A better question: do you really want to risk it?"

Lopmon's expression tightened from Shuuji's addition, eyes shifting towards the entrance. Saki followed his gaze.

"I think we're okay for now," she determined. "If they knew we were here before, why wouldn't they have attacked while we were asleep and unaware? They'd be risking injury otherwise."

"Unless they'd want us to know," Shuuji noted grimly, Gomamon's warning echoing in his head. "I had a bad run-in with some of them before we met up yesterday, and I hear they hold fierce grudges. If they know I'm with you, they might be petty enough to want me to know when they're attacking. And for you to know who's responsible for their wrath."

"If that's the case, it might be too late." Lopmon flicked a concerned glance towards him. "If they hold grudges that big, they'll probably start coming after you as soon as they can sense you."

Shuuji winced. That's right; he kept forgetting the BPS was a two-way street. If any of them recognized his signal (and at least those three probably had it memorized after their encounter), Shuuji would be a beacon drawing them in. As long as he was unable to hide his signal, his very presence endangered the group. 

Once again, bringing them nothing but trouble.

Floramon wilted. "They are on the move..." she confirmed. "I don't know how much time we have before they start showing up."

"So staying here until they're gone is definitely no good," Saki confirmed with a disappointed pout. "Then what should we do?"

Nobody had an answer. 

Well, Shuuji did. He really didn't want to say it, but he knew he should. If his being there was endangering the group, the solution was obvious. 

It's what the professor would've done.

"If they're... going to be seeking me out..." The words were caught in his throat, fighting against being spoken aloud. But they needed to be said. Swallowing to dislodge the building lump, he quickly finished before they could clog him up again. "If I stay behind I could stall them and buy you time to get out of here!"

"Not happening." Floramon's response was immediate. "Human or creature, nobody is getting left behind. Nobody," she reiterated, looking between everyone's faces — with extra pointedness towards Lopmon's — as though daring them to object.

Shuuji couldn't say he didn't get why she gave "him" special focus. Had they been in their correct roles and had he been the one to hear that suggestion, he would've heavily considered it, if not outright accepted it. The needs of the many came before the needs of an individual, and even the weakest of monsters would stand a better chance against hostile ones than a human would.

That said, Lopmon was much less pragmatic, agreeing without giving the idea a single thought. "Well said. We're not abandoning anyone; not when we still have options."

"Do we?" he argued back. "The gazimon are already on their way. As long as Floramon and I are around, they will be able to find us, and as long as I'm around, they have extra incentive to. At least this way I can keep them distracted instead of making the danger worse."

"As long as you're with us, you're in danger from the ones who want to sacrifice humans. Does that mean Saki and I should be left behind?"

"Th-That's different. You're... It's not like your very existence draws them in. And you're not able to fight them the way we can." 

There was a pained sadness in Lopmon's expression as he responded, "No offense, but I don't think you'd be able to fight off a whole pack by yourself."

In other words, he was too weak to manage it. It was an inarguable fact, no matter how much it bothered him to hear it vocalized. "I... wasn't planning to fight all of them. Just distract them and hide somewhere..."

"I'm sorry," Lopmon continued, quieter. "There's too many ways for it to go wrong... I'm supposed to keep everyone safe now, and just because you're not human doesn't mean you're not counted in 'everyone.' I know I won't be able to do anything in a real fight, but the least I can do is to keep us out of avoidable ones."

Shuuji said nothing, and Lopmon seemed to accept his silence as the surrender it was. After a small half-smile, he turned to address the others. "That said, we really do need a plan for how to deal with them. Should we try to outrun them? Attack them before they attack us? Find a new hiding spot that's easier to fortify?"

"We shouldn't hide," Saki cut in. "It'll just give them time to track us down. Even if we barricade ourselves somewhere, I don't think anything we could move would be strong enough to block them out. At most, we'd be trapping ourselves."

"Sounds like we're staying on the move then," Lopmon concluded with a frown. "We'll need to move quickly if we want to keep ahead of them."

"Shouldn't be a problem for you," Floramon teased.

That wouldn't be enough. No matter how fast they moved, the pack would be able to overtake them. A confrontation would be inevitable, even if they never stopped moving. What they needed was a way to stall them.

A way that didn't involve acting as bait.

...Supernatural senses aside, they still had the main five. And considering they're primarily canines, they probably rely a lot on smell...

"Maybe we can slow them down?"

Saki groaned. "For Pete's sake, Lopmon! We're not leaving you behind!"

"I know! That wasn't where I- Well, it's kinda- I-It's different! It's both of us — me and Floramon — and more of a staggered follow-!" He sighed. Between his flustered stammering and the previous bad suggestion, this one would probably be seen in the worst light as well. Besides, he was probably overstepping with so many suggestions anyway. "Forget it."

"I'd like to hear it," Lopmon encouraged. "It already sounds better than the last thing."

...Well, between his urging and Floramon's interested look after he said her name, seems like he didn't have a choice. "I was thinking, outside of their 'creature sense,' these seem like the sort of beasts that would track us by scent. They'd probably have a much harder time if they couldn't. I'd bet a full-on allergy attack could leave them out of commission. For example, if they were to breathe in a bit too much pollen carried by the wind?" He gave Floramon a smirk. "I think you might know where I'm going with this."

Judging by the twinkle in her eye, she certainly did.

"What do think: Pollen Hurricane or Bunny Duster?"

Shuuji could only blink as Floramon posed the question. "Excuse me?"

"I'm trying to think of a name for our combo," she explained. "With how effective it seems to be, I was thinking we should have something to call it in case we want to pull it out again in the future. Something snappy that's easier to say than 'that Rain of Pollen in a Tiny Twister combo thing.'"

She wasn't wrong: despite being just a simple combination of their most reliable abilities, the blend had proven to be very effective. Even more so than he — the one that suggested that part of the plan — had anticipated.

By the end of the discussion, they had decided that their best approach to counter the pack would be a staggered combative retreat. Lopmon and Saki were moving separately from them — further ahead, but not so much that they couldn't regroup if something came up — in search of any sign of the other kids or of landmarks that could indicate where they were. As those two did that, he and Floramon lagged behind to sabotage their path with allergens — specifically by launching pollen-saturated whirlwinds for maximum spread and dispersal. 

So far, everything seemed to be going well. Floramon was putting her all in the blasts with no signs of slowing — he had been concerned she might run out, but she insisted the time it took to move from one spot to another was all she needed to recharge. On his end, the Tiny Twisters had been coming naturally and, although the blinding winds made his attacks inaccurate, he didn't need the best aim when the goal was just to scatter pollen. As long as the wind didn't end up getting flung in Floramon's face (and it hasn't been — he'd been able to sense her relative position from him through the BPS even while spinning at top speeds) it met their requirements. 

Although they didn't stay long enough to observe the direct effects, he had noticed a gradual decrease of gazimon signals in the area. Overall, he'd say things had been going smoothly. Perhaps too smoothly if this was where his companion's head was at...

"Of the ones I thought of so far, those are the two I like best," she continued to explain. "On one hand, Pollen Hurricane feels more like an attack name to me, but I really like the wordplay of Bunny Duster. Which do you think's better?"

"I think we should save this talk for later. After we're sure the pack's no longer a threat."

Floramon seemed disappointed by his response but didn't press him. "Alright. I'll see if I can think of any others before then."

"Don't lower your guard too much," he warned. "Things are going well for now, but we can't get complacent."

"I'm not being complacent," she insisted. "If something bad happens, it'll have my full attention, but until then I'd rather keep my thoughts busy with things like this instead of worrying about unimaginable problems that may or may not happen."

So it was an intentional distraction. Inside, she was probably just as anxious as he was but was suppressing her fears with more frivolous thoughts.

He left her to it without further comment — if such brainstorming kept her mind calm, it would be counterintuitive to stop her. If only his thoughts were so easily silenced. Far too many of what she'd consider "unimaginable" problems have been filling his head, from the possibility that they were overlooking an insensible beast to the thought that something bad would happen to their partners while they were separated from them.

It was probably because of how simple this all felt. Maybe it was just his natural cynicism, but something about how easy things had been going felt wrong to him. If he had learned anything during his time in this world, it's that nothing went easy for their group. EVER. The pendulum had to swing back at some point — surely there would be SOMETHING bad coming to balance out this windfall of success they've experienced so far.

(He idly noted that 'windfall' sounded like a descriptor for their combination attack. He'll tuck that away as a potential suggestion for when they were finished and his anxious thoughts were calm enough to allow him to join her name game...)

Distracted by his unease, he almost didn't notice Floramon slowing down and staring off into the trees. “What's wrong? Did you spot someone?”

“No, it's not that. Something about this place..." Her focused stare lightened with realization. "I think I might know where we are!” With eyes shining brightly, she motioned for him to follow. “Come on!”

To Shuuji, this area felt as vaguely familiar as the other parts of the woods, but, clearly, something about it caught her attention. As he followed after, the vague feeling started to become more blatant, growing more and more naggingly familiar until an aged stone entryway came into view.

The entrance to the inner shrine of the kemonogami. The place that started it all.

“I thought so,” Floramon breathed, then, with a laugh, she repeated herself. "I thought so! We reached the shrine! We can get to the school from here — it's just a straight walk from the shrine building to there! Once we're in, we don't have to run anymore — we can lock them out, block the doors with chairs; I'm sure there'll be others there who can help chase them off-!" She was practically bouncing in excitement. "We need to get the others and go! We're almost there!"

It was worth celebrating, but his mind had been elsewhere ever since the structure came into view. They lost the professor here last time — his second and final nonfatal sacrifice for their sake. He hadn't regrouped with them yet during this version of events, but maybe still...

...There was a nonzero chance it was possible. He had to confirm for himself.

“I’ll take a quick check inside first; maybe someone’s there!” Without waiting for a response or for her to follow, he rushed in. 

Even knowing that it was unlikely, he was still disappointed to find the interior empty of life. 

He had been hoping that even if the professor wasn’t acting as a distraction, he still could’ve found his way to the structure. After all, his original reason for coming here was to look into the shrine, so even if this was a parallel version it would still be a familiar location to him. Shuuji would've assumed that it would be the first spot he'd try to find if lost and on his own, much like how their first thoughts had been to get back to the school.

Best case scenario, he was still out there, wandering blind in the forest just as they had been. It's what he had been doing in their original timeline before he came across their makeshift camp...

The one they never made this time. Because they bunked in that den.

Shuuji's pulse quickened. Because they improved their own situation, they never reunited with the professor. If he was in the area he probably passed by their lodgings, because who in their right mind would approach a potentially occupied monster den without a reason to? Instead, he probably would've continued to wander alone and unprotected through the strange and dangerous world. By ensuring they were better protected during the night, had they condemned him to worse dangers? Or even to an earlier grave?

“Did we screw up?”

“You could say that," drawled a voice that didn't sound like Floramon at all.

Shuuji's breath hitched. He hadn't the time to do anything else before something sharp gripped an ear and flung him against a wall with enough force to knock the wind out of him.

As he blinked black spots from his eyes, he saw the attacker — the dreaded pack leader himself, Fangmon — turning to face the entrance as Floramon hurried in. "What was that-!?" she started to ask before startling back when she saw the beast. "You!" she growled, caution turning to alarm as she noticed Shuuji. "Lopmon!"

"No, I Fangmon," the monster corrected with a smirk. "And you are the two troublemakers who have been harassing my pack. Contaminating our patrol routes..." His piercing gaze slid back to Shuuji. "...outright attacking scouts..."

“They attacked first!” he protested through his wheezing, struggling back to his feet. There was little point in trying to argue — he was pretty sure the wolf already knew. This was a matter of pride to him: as the pack leader, any losses by his underlings reflected upon himself. Letting the attack go unpunished, even if it was justified retaliation, would be a sign of weakness.

"The two of you love your tricks," Fangmon continued as he stalked closer, "but I have to wonder: if you take away the surprise, take away the distance... how strong are you really?"

As the beast's golden gaze leered down at him, a whine escaped Shuuji's throat. Fangmon was terrifying enough when he stalked them before, but he had gone from a monster that was only a little bigger than him to one that could swallow him with a single bite, no chewing required. He was a wolf staring down an injured rabbit. That matchup only ever went one way.

"Hey!" A tentacle whipped against the canine's flank. With an exhale that sounded more annoyed than angry, he turned towards Floramon, who continued to shout. "You ask us to prove our strength, then put all your focus on someone still recovering from your cheap shot!? Why not face someone who can fight back!" She sent another lash against his snout, causing Fangmon to recoil with a tisk.

"You're going to be a nuisance, aren't you?" He shifted a considering look between the two of them before huffing to himself. "Very well, I suppose I could start with the salad." With no warning aside from those words, he lunged at Floramon, sliding across the stone floor with her underclaw.

"Floramon!"

"Get out of here!" she shouted to him, writhing beneath Fangmon's claws. "Go find the others! I'll be right behind you! After I get this jerk off of me!"

"Such spirit!" said jerk taunted. "I look forward to seeing how long it'll take to break it."

Shuuji wanted to run. Every part of him was screaming at him to do so. But he couldn't. It wouldn't be right to leave Floramon like this, especially when she was only in this situation because she was trying to protect him.

It's like she said: human or creature, nobody is getting left behind. Nobody.

Against all rationality, instead of running for the exit, he started running towards the monster. Fangmon sneered at his approach, flashing both rows of the razor-sharp teeth that lined the entirety of his very long snout and running his tongue across the front of his- no no no he can’t do this not again not again not again-!

He barked a laugh as Shuuji skidded to a halt and retreated further away. "That's what I thought,” he jeered, looking down at Floramon still squirming under his paws. “Wait your turn, kid. I'll get to you after I finish pruning the garden.” 

The wolf's maw lowered, closer to her neck, only to stop at her frill of petals. With almost gentle consideration, his teeth closed around one. Then, in a fluid motion like unsheathing a blade, he jerked his head back. 

Floramon's shriek cut as sharp as those teeth.

“Loves me, loves me not,” Fangmon taunted, tail wagging as he tore off another and she cried out once more. “Loves me, loves me not.”

Of course he wouldn't make this fast. This beast had the intelligence to be cruel and the desire to draw out the pain. Each scream seemed to satiate him just as much as eating her would. Fangmon was so enraptured by the torment that he almost seemed to forget Shuuji was there. And, with how petrified with fear he was, he may as well not have been. 

He had to do something. Anything! Floramon was getting tortured while he just stood there like some worthless piece of rubble! As scared as he was, it was far worse for her!

Another pained shriek finally broke through his paralysis. “Stop it! Get away from her!”

Maybe his shout would've been more effective if he didn't sound like a toddler throwing a fit. As it stood, all it got him was a side-eye from the wolf. With an amused huff, he mockingly mouthed the words as his attention slid back to his still-struggling captive.

“I said back off!”

Fangmon rolled his eyes, ducking down once more. “You hear something?” After another yank and pained cry, he added, “Must just be the wind.”

Ignored again, and why shouldn't he be? His words were nothing but useless bluster he couldn't even back up. They were both outmatched in size and strength, and his abilities were inaccurate at best.

Although, maybe Fangmon didn't know that...

"Just the wind?" Shuuji growled, starting his spin. "You're right, it is just a Tiny Twister!"

The blinding winds built around him but, like with the pollen twisters, he could still sense their presence. ...No, he could still feel Floramon's presence. Fangmon didn't have a signal, but he knew the beast still had to be on top of her. He had to go against what he trained himself to do during the pollen scattering and aim towards her.

Towards, not at. He had to aim higher. Not too high as to miss, of course, but-

He was losing balance. Don't overthink it, just go!

The wind launched, catching the side of Fangmon's head as it began to lower again. He staggered to keep balance, with one of his pinning paws shooting out to catch himself. The looser grip freed one of Floramon's arms, which she was quick to take advantage of.

"Rain of Pollen!"

The wolf hacked from the snoutful of pollen, backing further away. Floramon retreated to Shuuji's side, but not before snapping Fangmon in the eye (or at least close to it) with a tentacle whip.

They would no doubt pay for that later, but Shuuji had to admit he took some small catharsis from hearing the monster's pained yelp.

“Hates you!” Floramon spat, rubbing at the plucked portion of her frill. “Hates you lots!”

"Move it!" Shuuji shouted, giving her a push to stop taunting and start running. As they exited the shrine, an angry howl rang out from behind them.

"Expect company!" he warned.

Floramon's eyes darted around before locking onto something along the shrine. "Up there," she decided, pointing along the weathered wall. "We can climb up to that outcropping; don't think they could reach that!"

Even if they could, it was high ground. They could put up a defense from there. Assuming they can get up safely. Judging by the quickly approaching footsteps, they hadn't much time. "Pollen shield first! That training thing! Make a smokescreen!"

"Okay, deep breath," she warned, arms locking to her sides.

A gazimon's voice called out "Over there!" as Floramon called forth her attack.

In hindsight, Shuuji probably should've moved closer to the wall before she let off the blast. Despite his blunder, some guiding nudges from Floramon still brought him to some climbable rocks.

By the time the cloud of pollen faded, they were already well above it, pressed down as close to the ledge as they could get. Even if these creatures may not think to look up, they couldn't let themselves be too visible.

"They... were there," a gazimon — assumedly the same one from before — muttered. The rest of the gathered beasts glanced around in uncertainty before snapping to attention once more as Fangmon emerged.

"Where are they?" the wolf snarled.

"Not here," a different gazimon reported. "They were here one moment, then they were gone. The plant one hid their escape with her pollen."

"Did NO ONE see them run out of it!?"

That gazimon winced. "They... never did, Boss."

"It's like they teleported!" another exclaimed.

Fangmon growled, sniffing the air. "I still sense them nearby..." He nodded to the gathered gazimon. "They couldn't have gone far. You four, head inside. There's a chance they'll return. The rest of you, split up and start looking." 

With a chorus of "yes sir"s, the gazimon scattered. After a final sweep of his head, the air around Fangmon rippled and he vanished from sight.

Even as the monsters left their line of vision, they stayed flat against the cliff. 

"They split up," Floramon murmured. "We should make a break for it through the area with the smallest amount of them."

"Not yet." Even if scattered, the gazimon were still too close for comfort, and Fangmon was still completely undetectable. For all they knew, he was still standing where he had vanished from, watching for any signs of movement. They had to be sure and make certain they wouldn't just be jumping back into their teeth. "Let's give them a few minutes-"

Another howl rang out somewhere in the distance. He almost thought it belonged to Fangmon, but there was no way he could've gone that far in such a short amount of time. Maybe there was another fangmon in the pack? Or perhaps there was another type of canine monster within their ranks that had never appeared during their last encounter, like a garurumon or a dobermon.

Either way, something about the howl sounded different. Not quite the same pitch, not quite the same force. It almost sounded less like a call to arms than it was a cry of pain. Maybe that was a good sign — perhaps something else was attacking the pack, drawing their attention away and reducing their numbers?

Sheer terror coursed through his body. No, not good; bad, bad, bad! This was different from the contagious anxiety he was struck with before — far too strong, sharp, desperate. A kind of fear he only felt once himself: back when he was in the grasp of that twisted evolution.

He felt for his body's signal. It was still there — still alive — but there was another nearby him. One so strong it almost hurt for him to focus on.

"They're in trouble," Floramon whispered anxiously. "I... I can feel it! The others-! Something dangerous is with them!"

"I noticed!" he hissed back, mind racing. They had to get to them before whatever that was killed them! Did they have time to!? If they got there, would they be able to do anything!?

If they... couldn't, would fading out of existence hurt? Kunemon hadn't reacted like it did (or react at all...), but he was also a bug. He probably didn't process pain like they did.

Shuuji wasn't sure which would be worse: if it was painful or painless.

He looked at his hands. Still whole and opaque — no glowing and dissolving into dust yet. There was time; they still had time. They just had to hurry. Were the other beasts far enough away that they wouldn't stop them?

Irrelevant! They couldn't let them stop them. If they didn't make it, they were all dead anyway!

"We need to get to them. On three, drop another smokescreen as quietly as you can and let's run." On Floramon's nod, he locked onto his signal. Praying that it wouldn't disappear before they reached the others, he began the count.

Chapter Text

"Hey, Shuuji, can we slow down a bit?"

Lopmon glanced over his shoulder, wincing at the distance between himself and Saki. He was doing it again. Although the gap between them was nowhere near as bad as it had gotten during yesterday's walk, he was still clearly underestimating his speed.

You've got big legs now. Gotta remember that.

He stopped, waiting for her to catch up. She was lightly panting as she did. "I didn't realize we were having another race," she grumbled, bending down to rub at her calves.

"No, we're not... Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. I'll try to do better."

Saki looked up from her legs, sending him a furrowed stare. Lopmon ducked away from it. He didn't blame her for getting irritated; he was starting to get annoyed with himself too. How many times had he screwed up by now?

Too many times for his words to be enough. He needed to do more to show he meant it.

"Maybe we can hold hands? That should keep us close."

His suggestion caused her brows to shoot up with a surprised blink. After a moment, a slow smile grew across her face. "You know, you could've just asked," she said, accepting his hand.

"I did ask? Just now."

"Right, right..." She winked as though he was in on what amused her. "Wouldn't have thought you'd be so shy about something like that, but I suppose it's intimidating asking someone like me straight out. Needed to have some reason first..."

Lopmon didn't think he seemed any shyer than usual, and he could never be scared of Saki. Still, the idea seemed to have cheered her up, so he could let that slide. Better she believe something wrong but innocent like that than assume it was because he was trying to give her a hard time. Or that he didn't like her. Or that he was trying to lose her...

"After a while, it started to feel like you wanted to abandon us."

"You... do know I'm not trying to leave you behind, right?" he asked, just to be sure.

Saki snorted. "I mean, I hadn't been thinking that..."

"I wasn't," he reiterated. "Even before, when we were all together. I swear I keep trying to remind myself to slow down; it's just, with everything that's been going on... I just can't keep my head straight. There's so many thoughts swirling around and all the stuff I need to remember keeps getting drowned out." He pressed a palm against his forehead as if doing so would quiet the extra thoughts. No such luck.

It took a few steps for her to respond. "Would it help to talk about any of it? Maybe if you let some of them out, your head won't be as noisy."

Doing so would probably help, but Lopmon wasn't sure what he was allowed to say. Most of his current thoughts and worries were centered on the switch and the positions it had left both himself and Shuuji in, and he had promised not to tell anyone about it.

...Maybe if he chose his words very carefully it would be alright?

"So many things have changed out here, and it scares me. And I know I shouldn't be worrying because we got that plan and, if everything goes well, none of us will see those guys hunting us at all. But I can't stop thinking: what if it doesn't? What if some of them slip by and get us, or if they catch up with Floramon and Lopmon and... things don't go well. We wouldn't even know until it's too late..."

"I get it. Not knowing scares me too." Saki glanced over her shoulder wistfully. "Floramon's tough, but those guys don't play fair. I want so badly to go back there and make sure everything's okay, but I know if I did I'd just be getting in the way if anything does show up. Right now, we can't really do anything more than offer them moral support."

That was exactly it. Being relegated to moral support didn't bother him — with how much both their opponents and his friends outclassed him, he had often been left on the sidelines even when he was himself. But back then, his partner had been there with him. Lopmon always knew where he was and that he was safe. This time, there was no guarantee or way to know.

It wasn't that he doubted Shuuji could handle the riskier parts of the plan — of course he could; especially with Floramon backing him up! — but he shouldn't have needed to. He was the human; he was supposed to be the one that stayed far, far away from their enemies while Lopmon acted as the barrier between them. But in swapping bodies, they had swapped their species and abilities: now Shuuji was the lopmon, Lopmon was human, and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't protect his partner.

"This is all wrong. I should be doing more."

"There's nothing else we can do besides continuing to keep ahead of them and staying alive."

It was the truth, and that made it worse. Lopmon was used to feeling weak and incapable, but even in the worst cases, he had always been able to do something, no matter how ineffectual. He had never felt this powerless before; not even when he had first hatched...

Saki squeezed his hand. "We gotta remember, they made their part of the plan. They wouldn't have suggested it if they didn't think they could pull it off. We need to trust them." She gave him a small smile before adding, "Like I keep saying, they're stronger than they look."

"I know they are," Lopmon said, trying to push a smile through his worry. He knew Floramon was very capable and, even if he was weaker than his fellows, his true form wasn't defenseless. A lopmon had several ways to fight and, given the plan they had made, Shuuji had to have figured out at least one of them. Although Tiny Twister was never Lopmon's preferred attack (after a while, all that spinning made him feel dizzy), it still had a decent amount of power inside it. He hoped his partner wouldn't let anyone near enough to fight up close, but physical attacks would probably also be easy for a human to figure out: ear slaps, horn jabs, bites...

His attention slid towards yesterday's wound. He wasn't sure if his teeth were stronger than he thought or if humans were just that fragile, but that bite really did and still continued to hurt. It was now more of a throbbing pain that came and went, made worse whenever something touched it (which didn't mix well with how itchy it felt...), and the area around it seemed to be changing colors. He deeply hoped that wasn't a sign that his bite was toxic to humans. What a way to find out if it was...

Saki's smile faded as she followed his gaze. "Please, don't hold that against him. Lopmon seemed so despondent yesterday, I just know he feels terrible about what happened."

"He does," Lopmon confirmed, closing his eyes in recollection. "When I caught up to him, he was so shaken and guilty over what he had done. It almost felt like he was begging me to punish him for what happened, while at the same time terrified that I would."

"You didn't, did you?"

"Of course not. I'm not going to punish him for an accident."

"Really?" Saki gave him a skeptical look. "No punishment at all? Not even a 'don't do that again' or a similar scolding?"

"He already knows it's wrong; there's no need to force the point," Lopmon explained with a shrug. "Besides, he said he blacked out after I picked him up. After that, his behavior was nothing but fear and instinct. I can't punish him for something he didn't have any control over, especially when he can't remember doing it. May as well punish him for existing by that point."

"So, then, you believed him?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"What if he was lying to get out of trouble? And I'm not saying he did," she added hastily, "just that I would've thought you'd think that."

"No way; he wouldn't do that! If he said he blacked out, then he did; I trust his word!"

Lopmon noticed a little too late that his arm went taut behind him — not fast enough to keep from stumbling out of Saki's grasp. He turned to see she had caught herself mid-stumble as well.

"You okay?"

"Y-Yeah. Yeah, sorry. It's these shoes." She tapped the toe of one of them against the ground, shooting it a scowl. "Started acting up again. These are not meant to be worn for long distances."

"Maybe you could take them off for a while?"

"No, I've tried that. After a while, it hurts too much." After some more wiggling and tapping, she took his hand once more. "All good. Anyway, gotta say I'm surprised. I was totally prepared to give you a whole speech about giving Lopmon a chance and not letting that bite thing shape how you feel about him, but it sounds like it's already water under the bridge." She chuckled, shaking her head. "Completely threw me off.”

“I'm sure he'd appreciate the thought,” Lopmon said with a smile. Saki had always been so protective of him. Sometimes it felt like she wanted him to be a human child and her his bonded creature. 

He supposed that, due to the switch, they were a little closer to that. Not that it would ever be completely possible — a fated bond could never change.

"Now I gotta know: how do you really feel about those little guys?"

"You mean Lopmon and Floramon?"

"Who else? The gotsumon?" She quirked an eyebrow. "Gotta admit, with how cautious you are, I would've thought you'd have been all shields up and keeping them at arm's length. Didn't expect you to warm up to them so fast."

"Ah..." Lopmon paused to think. He supposed he was acting a bit too familiar towards their partners. He knew that he could trust them — Floramon had always been so supportive of him, and if he couldn't trust his own partner, who could he trust? — but he supposed that a human who had known them for less than a day wouldn't feel the same; especially a human as skeptical as Shuuji. How would he have felt about them...?

"I wouldn't call us friends..."

“You’re supposed to be a monster, but you’re so… pathetic.”

"Trust them? These weird THINGS!? Please…"

...How would he have felt about them by this point? After what had happened so far? Worded in a way that wouldn't make his chest hurt?

"While I can't say I trust them completely, they seem to be on our side. At least for now. Accidental bites aside, they haven't done anything to hurt us. On the contrary, they seem to want to help us. Right now we could use all the help we can get."

"I guess that makes sense..." Despite her words, Saki studied his face as though something about it bothered her. Lopmon tried not to react to her stare, even as its persistence started to make him question if he said or did anything else that was too revealing.

"Is there... anything else?"

An enraged howl rang out from the distance, snatching away Saki's attention before she could answer.

"Sounds like someone's getting fed up with the sabotage."

"You don't think that 'someone' caught up with them...?"

"I'm sure they're fine," Saki said, although she didn't sound sure. "They can handle whatever comes their way."

Lopmon wanted to take comfort in her words, but having been on the other side of those creatures' claws, teeth, and energy blasts, he couldn't help but worry. He could still remember his partner cowering by his legs when faced with the demidevimon, doubtful he could fight them off. Gazimon were much more brutal than demidevimon — more willing to start fights and hold out until they end — and even though Shuuji said he had an encounter with some earlier and was able to survive, he also said they now had a grudge against him so they would probably act even nastier. And Fangmon... he was even more brutal than his underlings. And stronger too. And bigger, and scarier, and really hard to detect...

There was a much closer howl, and this one made him jump. For half of a second, he thought it might've been Fangmon himself. But that couldn't be it — there was no way he could've traveled so far and so fast without teleporting, and nobody in his pack was able to do things like that. If they did, then the pack would've been able to catch up with them much sooner last time.

"Another one?" he guessed out loud. 

"I don't think so..." Saki stared off in the direction of the noise. "It sounds... different. Maybe an underling?"

Before Lopmon could respond, he felt it.

For the first time since the switch, he was able to sense the approach of another creature. He knew it should've been possible. With the sometimes unfortunate exception of touch and conditional exception of sight, every other human sense had been muted versions of the senses Lopmon was used to. He had theorized that sense was probably muted too, just much, much more than the other ones.

But he couldn't be happy about being proven right. Not when that sense was being triggered by such an overwhelmingly powerful and malicious force.

With a hiss to "Get down!", he yanked Saki with him to the base of the closest tree. She rubbed at her shoulder, making pained noises that he could barely hear over the heavy thud of a body hitting the ground behind them. His apology was likewise masked by a second noise of impact when something slammed against the other side of the trunk.

It was right there, the only separation between them being the not-thick-enough trunk of a tree. The rage from its hateful aura surged against him like a bonfire he was far too close to. He wanted to move away from the burn, but the moment he moved at all, whatever that was would notice him. And if it noticed him, it would notice Saki, and it was so strong it would probably kill them both by just acknowledging their existence, which would also kill their partners-

Hands were on his shoulders, startling him from his visions of death back to the present. Saki was in front of him, eyes wide as she mouthed something.

What is that?

Lopmon shook his head. He had no idea, only that it was something really, really dangerous. 

"Haggard Cluster!" snarled a distorted voice — no doubt coming from that creature. Something about the sound bothered him, but he had no time to dwell on why before another voice began to wordlessly scream.

Curling in on himself, he did everything in his power to keep from either joining in or replacing it as the scream devolved into gurgles. Don't scream, that thing will hear you. Stop breathing, that thing will hear you. Stop thinking, that thing will hear you-

He was shaking... no, he was being shaken. It was Saki again, shoving at his shoulder and waving her other hand urgently in front of his eyes. When she saw he was focused, she pointed up past him, mouthing another word.

Tree.

Already dreading what he'd see, Lopmon looked up. A smoky darkness licked at the edges of the bark above them, turning it the same color as the skin around his bite wound. The rest of the tree above it seemed to be leaning further and further in their direction...

As the wood started to crack, it became clear that they now had the option of facing certain death or nasty injury or just the really high chance of it.

Self-preservation made the choice.

Lopmon dashed aside, hoping the creature on the other side was too distracted with its prey to notice him.

It was not.

The creature's head snapped to the side as soon as he left the base of the tree. Red unblinking eyes full of wrath locked with his own.

Beneath that stare, it was obvious: this creature couldn't be anything other than Death itself.

Death stood like a human, but it clearly wasn't — it was way too big to ever be confused with one. Shuuji was one of the largest humans Lopmon knew (not that he knew many), yet his body only just missed the top of its legs. It was clad in black armor with far too many sharp points and decorative(?) jaws. The darkness that had eaten through the tree was spewing out of one located in the middle of its chest, enveloping something held in its grip.

The chest-mouth closed as Death rolled its wrist, letting whatever remained of its past victim slough out of its grasp. It turned to face him — new victim in sight.

He dropped to the ground — legs already given up — and lowered his head in a full kowtow. At this point, his only chance was to seem as harmless and pathetic as possible. Best case scenario, he'll be killed quickly; maybe even spared as not being worth the effort. That said, with how much malicious intent he could feel from the creature, his chances didn't look good.

The unfairness of the situation made his eyes prickle. Why would he be brought back just to die again the next day? Was it a mistake that he was brought back at all and Death was sent to fix it? Did the universe just want to show him how his partner must've felt under the eyes of that monster — so powerless and hopeless and very, very vulnerable — before erasing him for good?

No, this still probably wasn't as bad. This creature had never been a trusted ally.

His chin pulled deeper against his chest. Maybe he deserved this...

If only the lesson wouldn't kill his partner too. He could only hope that when the link took Shuuji, it wouldn't be as painful as whatever Death decided to do to him. And that he'd forgive him for ruining their second chance.

Despite everything, Lopmon could feel a melancholic smile tug at his mouth. No, he probably wouldn't. More likely, he'd berate him for getting into the situation to begin with and for endangering Saki with it.

...Saki!

Rolling his head slightly, he sent a glance towards the fallen tree. Seeing no sign of her below or near the remains, he sighed through his nose. If nothing else, at least she got away.

...

Not that he was complaining, but why was he still alive?

He cautiously lifted his head — just a little. Enough to see Death's feet: still facing him, but immobile. Enough to see Saki beyond them: too far in the open, crouched down with her eyes trained in his direction. She caught his gaze and gave a determined nod, rising up with something in her arms. After a moment, something small fell a short distance away. Another followed close behind, landing closer and skipping enough for him to identify it as a rock.

Something inside of him skipped as well. She wasn't...

Lopmon looked up as far as he dared, just in time to see Saki winding up for another throw.

What are you doing!? Stop! Get out of here!

Had his voice not been the second part of him to die, he'd have vocalized his thoughts. As it was, all he could do was watch helplessly as she threw the next stone. With a metallic dink, it ricocheted off one of Death's gauntlets.

The creature whirled towards Saki, dark smoke leaking through clenched claws. She fell back as if shoved to the ground by its sudden attention, her remaining handful of rocks dropping to the ground. She stared on with horror as though she hadn't expected such a reaction from hitting a creature of death and hatred with a rock! Why did she do that!?

Lopmon was sure that he was about to see that creature descend upon Saki in her vulnerable state — savagely tear her apart for daring to strike it, then turning back to do the same to him. But aside from turning its back on him, Death hadn't moved at all.  

Then, slowly, its hands unclenched and the dark energy dissipated. It approached the fallen girl with almost unsteady steps, tail swaying slowly behind it. After reaching her, it knelt before her, extending a deadly claw towards her face.

A vision of Saki getting eaten away by darkness like Death's prior prey flashed in Lopmon's mind, resuscitating his voice. Pushing up to his hands and knees, he called out, "S-Stop! Stop! Please!"

The creature's head snapped back from his shout, its glare almost killing his voice once again. It survived the strike but was weakened greatly. "Whatever it is you want to do to her — kill her, or take her, or put her to sacrifice... she doesn't deserve it. If you must do it to someone..." The noble end to the plea would be to offer himself in her place, but the words to do so refused to come. Instead, he finished with a croaky "Please, don't."

Death stared at him, then looked back at Saki. After a few seconds, its hand lowered. It rose to its feet, shaking its head and backing away.

"You're... not going to?" Saki tested. 

The creature continued to stare at her. For a moment, it seemed like it was going to speak, but then it bowed its head, remaining silent as its feet left the ground. Then, in a blink, both the creature and its oppressive aura were gone.

Head sagging, Lopmon took what felt like his first full breath of air in minutes. He was still alive. They both were. If the circumstances had been even a tiny bit different, they would've been nothing but stains in the grass, but through sheer luck and the mercy of that creature, they had been spared.

Across the way, Saki returned to her feet, wobbling in place. "Well," she said, forced pep in her tone, "that may've been the most terrifying experience of my life."

May've been? Lopmon could only imagine the sort of experiences she had that would've given that one competition...

"You alright over there?" she asked. "That thing didn't, like, stare a hole through you or anything, right?"

It sure felt like it did, even though he didn't feel any pain...

Lopmon managed to sit up onto his knees — the lower halves of his legs still refused to cooperate — and gave himself a once-over. Miraculously, there didn't seem to be any damage. "Y-Yeah. Yeah, I'm alright. Still alive. Somehow."

"Somehow," Saki echoed, giggling with anxious relief. 

"Somehow," he repeated, joining her relieved laughter.

After exchanging a few more repetitions of the word with her, he finally found the strength to stand. As the laughter tapered off, Lopmon asked the pressing question.

"Why did you do that?"

"That...?"

"Why did you throw the rock? It let that thing know where you were and it could've made it mad. It could've killed you."

"But it didn't."

"But it could've!" Lopmon insisted. "You should've left; it didn't have to know about you!"

"Weren't you the one who said we're not abandoning anyone?" Saki crossed her arms. "Just 'cuz you're the one who said it, doesn't mean you're not an 'anyone' too."

"I said while we have options," he clarified. "Once that thing saw me, that was it. My fate was in its hands, and after you threw that rock at it yours was too."

"In my defense, I wasn't trying to hit it. I was trying to throw past it as a distraction, but my aim was a little off." 

"Not that I don't appreciate you trying to help, but that was really risky. Next time, you can just go; I don't want you to die because of me."

"I don't want you dead either!" she snapped back. "I'm sorry, but I don't care how strong whatever's threatening us is; I'm not going to just stand there and watch someone else die in front of me!"

Lopmon blinked. Saki paled.

Someone... else?

"Boy, that creature sure had some terrifying strength! Those shadows ate straight through the trunk!" Saki hurried towards the fallen tree, running from the conversation. He let her go without protest. As curious as he was, it was obvious the topic was a sore spot for her.

With almost exaggerative interest, she circled the wreckage. After reaching the front of the stump, she jumped back with a sharp gasp and an "Oh...!" With an urgent expression, she beckoned for him to come over.

Lopmon hurried to her side. Following her gesture, he saw a fuzzy lump against the roots. Another creature, and seemingly an early stage as well. Aside from its horn, it was little more than a mound of fur. If he remembered correctly, that one was a tsunomon. A very injured one at that — its form flickered irregularly as it struggled to hold itself together.

"This was their victim," Lopmon murmured, realization sinking in. "They're still alive." 

"Barely..." Saki added.

He nodded, a sick and angry feeling eating at his insides. This definitely wasn't the form the creature had when Death had attacked it — it was far too small to have made those thuds from before. Instead of killing it completely, Death had damaged the now-tsunomon until it could no longer remain in its previous form. Perhaps it had considered not ending its victim's life a mercy, or maybe it had been too distracted by himself and Saki to finish the job. Either way, the tsunomon would likely still die from its wounds if left untreated. 

“We need to do something.” Without waiting for a response, Lopmon dropped beside the creature. Its glassy eyes cracked open, struggling to focus on him. As he leaned closer, it gave a weak growl. 

“It's okay,” he murmured. “We just want to help you. Will you let us?”

He extended a hand, only to draw it back as the tsunomon snapped at his fingers. It winced from the movement, pressing further against the root at its back. 

"Jeez, is there any creature out here that doesn't want to take a bite out of you?" Saki crouched down beside him, looking over its injuries. "Picking 'em up might make things worse. If we had something to carry 'em in, it might cause less pain for both parties involved."

Lopmon thought for a moment. "Maybe we can use my jacket? It might be a little more comfortable too."

"You sure?"

In response, he took it off and passed it to her. "Think you can get the little guy on? I don't think it likes me very much."

Saki studied him, then took the jacket and moved closer to the tsunomon. After some cajoling, she was able to get it to roll onto the fabric. Once securely aboard, she passed it back into his hands and went to tie the jacket's arms around his neck.

"You're acting really calm about all of this," she observed from behind. "I mean, that spike's really close to your face and you're barely reacting."

"It's fine; they're too hurt to do anything." Regardless, Lopmon shifted his hold on the carrier to lower the point, careful not to disturb the injured tsunomon in the process. "I also might still be in a bit of shock from before..."

"Also a possibility." Saki returned to the front with a playful smile. "After encountering something like that, I guess nothing would scare you anymore."

"I wouldn't go that far..."

Their conversation was interrupted as a new voice shouted out "They're okay!"

Lopmon turned just in time to see two little creatures rushing towards them. One gradually slowed as he approached to stare at the fallen tree, while the other barrelled into her partner's leg, latching on and rubbing watering eyes against it. "You're okay! Oh, thank goodness you're okay!"

"But you aren't!" Saki knelt down, cradling her partner's cheek and tracing a finger down several torn petals. "What happened to you?"

"We had run-in with Fangmon," Floramon admitted. "Things... could've gone better. But we were able to get away, and we also found the shrine!"

Meanwhile, Shuuji wrenched his attention away from the tree and rapidly scanned the rest of the clearing. "What happened? Anyone hurt? No one's dying?" he asked, practically in one breath. His eyes landed on the horn emerging from the makeshift carrier and his voice raised to a shriek. "Did you get impaled!?" 

"It's okay; it's just this little guy." Lopmon crouched down so he could get a better look at the injured creature. "He's the only one who got hurt."

His partner stared at the tsunomon in disbelief. "That... wasn't what we felt before. It couldn't have been..."

"Definitely not," Floramon agreed.

"You must've sensed the other one," Saki said. "It left a little while ago. Real freaking scary, that one. Had on a dark suit of armor with all these jagged edges, covered in a bunch of mouths..."

"Looked like Death," Lopmon added. "Maybe it was."

"Wouldn't be surprised," she agreed with a shudder. "And it had this... presence."

"It was so powerful, even I could feel it!"

"Sounds like the one," Floramon said. "We could feel its signal like it was right next to us; it honestly hurt to focus on. Good thing you were able to hide from it."

Silence.

"You were able to hide from it," Shuuji repeated, looking to be a few seconds away from a conniption. "Right?"

Saki chuckled sheepishly. "So, things could've gone better for us too..."

"B-But it all turned out okay!" Lopmon hurriedly added. "Even if it saw us, it didn't do anything. It just kinda stared at us, then flew away. Everyone's fine; nobody's hurt."

"Well..." a new voice chimed in, "nobody's hurt yet. Might be a little early to say that for certain." 

Both Floramon and Shuuji went rigid, the latter choking out a frustrated "You've gotta be kidding me..."

The air rippled as a smirking Fangmon materialized at the other end of the clearing. "Believe me, I don't kid about such things."

Chapter Text

Shuuji knew this was coming.

Even when they were sabotaging their trail; even when they escaped down the least guarded route, he had never deluded himself that they could've avoided this outcome. Things were always going to end with a standoff; it was a matter of when, not if. 

That didn't mean he was happy that 'when' was 'now.'

"And suddenly it all makes sense..." Fangmon sized up their group, then began to cackle. "No wonder you were so bold! To think, you of all creatures were able to find a couple of humans!"

Lopmon took a step back, wrapping a defensive arm around the perimeter of his makeshift sling. Saki remained still, meeting the beast's stare with a murderous look.

"You must be Fangmon," she said, poorly contained venom dripping from her words. "Floramon has told me a lot about you."

"Oh, yes, we got to know each other quite well," he purred. "There's a lot of fight in that one. A lot of screams too."

Saki seethed wordlessly at his taunts, getting a worried glance from her partner. Smirking, the wolf continued.

"But, ah, she ran away before I could finish her pruning. For her sake, you really should teach her more patience. She looks just horrible with it incomplete."

"You complete and utter waste of air!"

"Temper, temper..." Fangmon tisked in faux disappointment.

Saki looked just about ready to march over and strangle him with her bare hands. Fortunately, Floramon moved before she could take more than a few steps, raising an arm to stop her.

"Don't, he's just trying to get a rise out of you."

"He's succeeding," she hissed. "I can't let him get away with this!"

"I know and he won't, but you need to leave that to me. You can't fight this guy; you know that." Her expression softened as she added, "You've done so much for me; please, let me return the favor." 

Saki held her gaze, clearly still wanting to argue, but after a moment stepped back with a frustrated sigh.

Floramon gave her a grateful smile. "I'll get 'em good for the both of us." Her expression hardened as she turned back towards the wolf. "Alright, Fangmon, here's the deal: we all know the stories. As long as you leave the humans out of this fight, Lopmon and I won't use their power against you. Sound fair?"

"So now you care about fighting fair..." Fangmon scoffed, shaking his head. "If you wish to handicap yourself, be my guest. Was planning to go in order of annoyance anyway."

Floramon shifted her stance. "Ready, Lopmon?"

"As I'll ever be..." This was it: the first real fight. There was nowhere to hide, and no way Fangmon would let them escape this time. Now, it was either victory or death.

No pressure.

"You've got this!" the actual Lopmon called from behind.

I don't. I really, really don't.

"Sure you do..." Fangmon chuckled. "Remind me, how did our first meeting end?"

"You hacking up a lung as we got away?" Floramon taunted. "By the way, how's your eye doing?"

Good enough to glare at them, if nothing else.

"Maybe we shouldn't provoke him any more than we already have..." Shuuji warned.

"He started it."

"Perhaps," Fangmon agreed to the childish retort, eerily composed. "And now, to finish it."

And then he was gone.

"Heads up," Floramon warned, raising her arms defensively. Her words were unnecessary; Shuuji was already on high alert. With no BPS warnings or visuals, an attack could come from anywhere. The only sign they'd get before he struck would be something small and easy to overlook: a faint footfall, a shift of air...

...a warm puff of breath-!

Unseen jaws snapped behind Shuuji's head, barely missing him as he shot forward. A tentacle cracked where he had been, hitting only the air.

Another grunting breath — heard, not felt — came from Shuuji's side. He dove away from the noise as invisible claws scalped the turf.

Swipes continued again and again giving him no moment to rest. The wind from Fangmon's paws battered him more than the claws themselves, but without knowing the exact wheres and whens of the swings several still connected. Most nicked an ear that hadn't pulled ahead as fast as the rest of him. One swung far too close, grazing his back.

Another caught his leg.

He stumbled from the slice. Fangmon dropped the camouflage for a split second — just long enough for him to see the wolf's gloating sneer — but was gone both visually and physically before another lash from Floramon could hit him.

"Tiny Twister!" Shuuji called if only to get a reprieve from the barrage. His leg disagreed with the motion and made the rotation more wobbly than it should've been, but the wind still formed. That's all that mattered — as long as he was shielded by the wind, he could tough through his leg's complaints.

He was just as blind and disoriented inside the whirlwind as he had been outside, but at least the shell of wind gave him a moment to breathe (albeit not much). He was safe as long as he could maintain it — small as it was, it was still a twister; not really something anyone would want to touch or put in their mouth — but once it stopped...

He'd need to shed the wind before he lost balance and move as soon as it was gone. Fangmon was likely just biding his time and waiting for the moment Shuuji was exposed once more. He could aim in a random direction and hope for the best. Or maybe aiming down could "splash" the gust, preserving the protection around him for just a moment longer? Assuming it wouldn’t just launch him up and into waiting jaws-

He could hear Floramon's shout over the wind. No, Fangmon wasn't waiting; he'd shifted targets.

Locking onto her signal, Shuuji released the twister above where she was. With the blinding winds gone, he could see her knocked back in the grass as the attack spun over her, completely unhindered in its path.

Another miss.

As soon as it passed, she rolled to her side and sent up a "Rain of Pollen!" The spray outlined a pointed snout, moments before a hacking Fangmon became visible again.

Returning to her feet, Floramon sent a few lashes at the coughing beast. She only stopped when he recovered enough to snap at one. With a growl, he shook the remaining powder from his head and vanished once more, the dislodged pollen following in the wake of his retreat.

Floramon retreated as well, closer to Shuuji's side. "Nice save."

"Could've been better. Completely missed him."

"Join the club." Her arms were back on the defensive as she scanned the battlefield. "I think that was the first time any of my attacks connected so far. For such a stickler for 'fairness'-!" She cut herself off, swinging her arms around with another "Rain of Pollen!" and creating a ring around them.

A portion of the ring pulled away as it formed.

Shuuji drew away from that side. "There!"

A tentacle snapped in the direction he indicated, cracking against flesh. Fangmon's form rippled from the strike but didn't fully materialize. Although he couldn't see the monster, Shuuji could feel his glare.

"We can track him with your pollen."

"As long as he's in it," Floramon huffed. "Every time I get him, he keeps slipping away until the air clears."

"Then we need to make it so he can't escape it." Shuuji quickly scanned the area. The ground was mostly clear (fallen tree aside), and although the humans (well, "humans") were close, they should have been far enough to brace for the blast or take cover before it reached them. "A Bunny Duster. With smokescreen levels of pollen. Won't be as thick as a usual smokescreen, but should cover more ground than one."

Floramon grinned. "So you did have a name preference." She raised her hands, then hesitated. "Are you sure about this? This is going to cover everything; you'll be stuck breathing it in too."

"If it'll give us a fighting chance, I can live with a little discomfort." He started the attack, urging her on with a “Load me up!”

She complied with a heavy blast, tinting the twister a raw sienna. Even while it was trapped in the wild swirl, he could feel its effects. He stifled a sneeze long enough to launch it into the air-

"Blast Coffin!"

-and the whole thing was vaporized by a sphere of energy.

"You know I have ears, right?" came Fangmon's condescending voice. "Bet you thought I'd sit there and take it. Those tricks really are all you have, aren't they?"

Floramon lashed in the direction of the voice, crying out as it stopped abruptly. Fangmon dropped his camouflage, holding the writhing appendage between his teeth.

"Typical," he scoffed through closed jaws before biting down harder on the trapped tentacle.

No. Through.

The still-connected length of the tentacle snapped back to Floramon, who screamed as she clutched at the site of injury.

"Floramon!" came Saki's horrified shout from the sidelines.

"Wait!" his own voice protested. "You can't go out there!"

"Let go! She's hurting! She needs me! I can't lose her again!"

"Stay back! We've got this!" Shuuji called over his shoulder. He didn't believe his words at all, but the situation was deteriorating fast enough without her making herself an additional target-

Fangmon punished his momentary distraction with a paw to the side of his head, knocking him to the ground.

"No," he countered flatly. "You don't. You never had. You're nothing but a pair of uppity brats who thought just because you found a couple of humans you were suddenly the heroes of a fairy tale and could bring down the big bad wolf." He lowered his head, continuing in a whispered purr, "But this is reality, and there's no woodsman coming to save y-!"

The taunt was cut short by a yelp. Growling, the wolf's head snapped up, sending a glare towards the sidelines.

"Bullseye!" Saki cheered.

"You actually did it!?" Lopmon sounded horrified.

"Hey, YOU didn't want me to go out there-!"

"Don't interfere!" Fangmon snarled. Mouth flashing, he added a "Blast Coffin!" as he swung his head towards the noncombatants.

With a burst of panic, Shuuji was back on his feet, just in time to see Saki hurrying for a tree (why was she that far in the open!?). The sphere of energy landed far too close to where she had been standing, the shockwave sending earth flying in various directions and knocking her to the ground. Lopmon ducked out from behind the same tree, calling her name and reaching for the thrown girl with his free arm.

Shuuji whirled back on Fangmon. "What are you doing!?"

"Is it not obvious?" The wolf maintained his stare towards the sidelines.

"Remember the agreement before the fight? You said you'd leave the humans out of this!"

"I don't recall agreeing to anything, just that I originally planned to save them for last. Emphasis on 'originally.'"

Shuuji's stomach sank.

"C-Come on, you're all about this being fair, right? We're the ones you have a problem with, not them!"

"I don't know..." A wide smirk crossed Fangmon's face as he finally looked back towards him. "They're starting to sound like much better targets."

Shuuji started to rush towards him — too overwhelmed by the need to stop him despite having no concept of how — but was dismissively swatted aside once more. He was little more than an afterthought now that the wolf had new targets to pick on.

"Move! Now!" he shouted, unable to do much else with Fangmon already halfway to them. The monster wasn't even bothering to hide as he sprinted for the sidelines, skidding to where they hid.

"Blast Cof-!"

The call was cut short as tentacles wrapped around his snout. 

Floramon to the rescue once again. She had been able to power through the pain to catch up just in time.

"Oh no you don't!" she grunted, holding him back long enough for the others to pull away.

Unfortunately, her main tentacle was still injured. Even when combined with her nondominant one, she didn't have enough strength to keep Fangmon's jaws shut for long.

And, although incomplete, the Blast Coffin had charged quite a bit.

And she had no time or way to block it.

Floramon went flying from the discharge, landing with a heavy thud. She didn't get back up.

"One down," Fangmon observed coldly. "Who's next?"

Despite the still-present danger, Shuuji couldn't look away from Floramon's still-motionless body.

One down... So, did that mean...?

No, of course not; these creatures dissolved when they died. She was fine; she had to be. She must have just been knocked out.

Not that her being unconscious was much of an improvement in this situation. Floramon was the only one who had been able to do anything all fight. How were the rest of them supposed to survive this with her out of commission!? How was he supposed to fight that beast on his own!?

"No..." Saki's voice was soft but carried across the field. She was looking on in equal parts horror and disbelief, shaking her head at increasing speeds. "No, NO!"

Like a woman possessed, she ran into the open towards her fallen partner, heedless of Lopmon's calls after her.

"I see we have our next volunteer..." With a smirk, Fangmon turned his attention towards the distressed girl. He moved into position for a pounce, completely unacknowledged by his next target.

Shuuji jumped first, starting a Tiny Twister in the air. The hope was that the leap's momentum would maintain enough direction to keep a steady aim, but he hadn't expected it to boost the speed of that jump as well. Shooting further than expected, both the twister and his body crashed into the side of the beast.

Fangmon fell forward as Shuuji fell back. In the heat of the moment, he was then struck by a very stupid idea.

It seemed like a great idea at the time — if he couldn't fight the beast, why not keep him distracted until the situation changed? — but sometime between when he began to scramble up the buckles of Fangmon's leggings to when he grabbed the strap that connected them, his rational side recognized the insanity of the plan. The realization fully solidified as the wolf leered back at him, baring his teeth.

A-At least it got his attention...?

It happened again, just like before.

Once again, she could do nothing but watch as her partner suffered under the hands of an enemy. Too far away to protect her; forced to hear her screams of pain and the much-worse silence that followed.

She supposed this time there was a difference. This time a body remained. A small, mangled body that wasn't even her own.

Floramon knew she should've done more to help: deck that smug jerk in the face, start throwing those rocks sooner-!

-and paint more of a target onto Saki's actual body in the process?

AGH! She HATED this switch! Why did it have to leave her so powerless to protect her beloved partner!?

A soft moan came from the body, snapping Floramon out of her growing despair. Right, there were two differences: Saki was still alive this time. Her form was stable, her eyes were fluttering open...

“F’mn?” she croaked.

"It's alright; I'm here."

Saki smiled weakly at the affirmation. "That... could've gone better..." She moved to sit up, groaning as she did so.

"Slowly," Floramon advised. 

"I'm okay," Saki said, although it was clear she wasn't. "Is Fangmon-?"

"Still alive. Unfortunately."

After a pause, she quietly asked, "And Lopmon...?"

Floramon looked back. At the moment, he seemed to be clinging onto Fangmon's back for dear life as the larger creature spun around, bucking and snapping to shake him loose. Shuuji seemed to be shouting encouragement and suggestions as he did so: "You got this!", "Hold tight!"; "Try biting him!"

It was still weird to witness him acting so supportive, although she supposed it was much better than the alternative they'd expected...

"Still holding on," she said, looking back to Saki. Already she was back on her feet, even as her legs wobbled. "Hey, don't push yourself; that was a nasty blast!"

"I need to get back in there; I can't leave him to fight this alone." Saki's eyes burned with a blaze of conviction Floramon had seen many times before: in the forest before the first time she became Blossomon, at the amusement park before it all turned disastrous; on her own face the first time they could speak as themselves after the switch. It was a protective fire that wanted to shine brightly and live on without any regrets. 

The look both tore at Floramon's insides and made her chest swell in pride. Her partner's will and spirit had grown so strong in such a short amount of time, but she had already taken so much damage: to her frill, to her tendril, to her entire body with that blast. What was next? Would she lose her tail? Her head?

"This feels just like before," she admitted. "It's like we're back at the amusement park, and the Kenzoku's right there, and I could keep you away from it and save you this time." She took a deep breath, composing herself. "But... I know you don't want me to. And if I did, they'd take away someone else..." 

Her partner's eyes softened. "It won't end the same way," she promised. "We were brought back for a reason. Even if we don't know the exact reason, I do know that it's not for us to just die again. Not here, not now; not to that jerk."

When she said it like that, Floramon could almost believe it. Her continued swaying brought less confidence. Fangmon was a powerful opponent — he hadn't been able to control as much of the forest as he did without having the strength to back it up. The entire battle was unevenly matched: a champion against rookies.

If only Saki had been able to face him in one of Floramon's stronger forms: Blossomon would've wiped the floor with that ruffian, and Vegiemon would've at least balanced things out...

...Wait, why couldn't she?

"If that's what you want, I won't stop you," Floramon said. "But before you go back, let me first give you my power."

It took a second for her partner to realize what she meant. When she did, her eyes widened. "Can we do that?"

"Why not? We're still partners, and we're still a human and a floramon. We'd just need to do it the opposite way we usually do it."

Saki thought for a moment, then nodded. "Well, the deal's clearly off, so why not? Let's even the playing field."

Just what she expected to hear. 

Smiling, Floramon closed her eyes, willing her feelings to reach her partner the way Saki's had always reached her. 

As much as I want to, I can no longer protect you. So, please, let me give you the strength you need to protect yourself and others.

"I... think I feel it?" Saki murmured. "How do I know when it's enou-?" She cut herself off with a gasp. Then she began to scream.

It was enough.

Shuuji held out for as long as he could, but he couldn't hold on forever. With all the bucking and spinning, his grip eventually grew too loose for him to keep ahold of the strap.

The moment he was off, Fangmon turned back. There was dark triumph in his eyes as he stared him down, no doubt debating what the worst retaliation against him would be for all the trouble he'd caused.

And then Floramon screamed.

The shout stole Fangmon's attention, so Shuuji risked a look too. Floramon was standing again but was doubled over and breathing heavily with her head in her hands. Saki was beside her, smiling despite the pain her partner was in.

"So, THIS is what it feels like..." Floramon straightened up. There was a wild look in her eyes as very familiar motes of yellow light began to bubble up and swirl around her form.

Already!?

The light intensified as she gave another guttural yell. "Floramon, evolve to-!" With those words, the light swelled even further, extending up and out... and up and out...

Vegiemon... wasn't that big...

As suddenly as it began, the lights were extinguished. Whatever that monster was, it was not Vegiemon. Even if he disregarded the size, it didn't look a thing like her. Vegiemon was a short and stout pitcher plant of a creature, barely any bigger than Floramon herself (possibly even smaller). This new monster looked more treelike, like a hollowed-out stump that had suddenly grown limbs and a face.

"-Woodmon!" the evolution finished before blinking. She looked down at herself, then back at Saki. "Woodmon?"

Her response was an "...Apparently?" and a confused yet encouraging thumbs up.

Woodmon... An appropriate name for the inappropriate form. 

Why was it so different? Did something go wrong with the evolution?

Shuuji took a wary step back. Fangmon didn't seem to notice or care, too distracted by the change. “So this is the power of human children…” he mused.

"Y-Yeah! Yeah, it is!" Lopmon called out. "And that's just what one child can do! If you don't go away right now, I'll be forced to unleash my power too!"

If his words sounded less like obvious hot air and if that wolf had any idea what Lopmon could become, perhaps Fangmon would've taken the threat seriously. Instead, he gave him an unimpressed stare.

"Well," he said. "All the more reason to kill you before you do! Blast Coffin!"

With much more speed than one would expect for a tree, Woodmon moved in front of the blast and struck it aside with her outer loglike limbs. 

"I warned you," she rumbled. "You shouldn't have attacked those kids."

"Spare me the morality posturing," Fangmon growled. "Inside I know you're just as weak as you were before. The change of form only makes you a larger target!"

With that declaration, the wolf rushed in, pouncing on one of Woodmon's roots. He bit and clawed at her, crawling around her body like a frenzied squirrel and tearing away at her bark. Despite the damage, Woodmon seemed more annoyed than hurt. She swiveled in place, keeping her outer arms high while her inner claws swiped for the mobile mutt. 

Their grapple continued until she hooked a claw into one of Fangmon's straps, snagging him in place. With a triumphant shout, she clapped him into her other claw, holding tightly onto the thrashing beast. With atypical ferocity, she then plunged one of the outer limbs into his back. She didn't so much as flinch when the wolf cried out, only pressing the arm in deeper with a growled "Branch Drain!"

Fangmon howled and writhed in pain, but she held firm.

As unsettling as it was to watch, Shuuji couldn't look away from the brutality. There was no doubt; something must've gone wrong with the evolution. She was acting far too ruthless in her attacks.

Was this... some sort of rage corruption? Like what happened to Lopmon? After draining Fangmon dry, would she turn on them like that twisted evolution did?

Will he have to fight her like this?

...Where was Saki?

The dread from that thought was enough to wrench his attention away. Shuuji looked back toward where Saki had been standing before Woodmon began her clash with the wolf.

She wasn't there.

...D-Did Woodmon, mind clouded by rage...? 

No, there would've been more noise if that happened. The process would not have been painless; there would've been screams. There would've been blood.

Unless she didn't give her a chance...

There was some movement from that direction, but despite Shuuji's hopes, the cause wasn't Saki. None of them were.

"There they are!"

"What is that thing!?"

"It's got the boss!"

And the cavalry arrives... Shuuji grimaced. The situation had gone from bad to worse: now they had a sizable cluster of gazimon to worry about as well. 

At the moment, they all seemed occupied by Woodmon. They began to fire their electric blasts, but even then she barely acknowledged them. Up until one hit her in the eyehole.

With a pained shout, she reflexively brought a claw to the socket, freeing Fangmon enough for him to pull away. The wolf immediately staggered back as far and quickly as possible, some splinters still caught in his spine. Several gazimon drew in to protect him while others moved to follow his order of "Don't just stand there! Get them!"

"Them" still seemed to be primarily Woodmon — the larger target was drawing the pack's attention and electric blasts like a lightning rod. She raised her outer limbs to block additional eye shots, edging away from the horde. Her trunk shifted slightly as she searched the battlefield, eyes eventually resting on Lopmon.

The unease from her prioritizing him over the attacking monsters was already high, but when she abandoned the swarm to gallop toward him, Shuuji began to panic. Even more so as she began to lower one of those draining branches towards him.

Shuuji rushed at her with a jump-boosted Tiny Twister, but he may as well have spun into a tree. He fell away with nothing to show from the effort except a sore side and a nonplussed stare from Woodmon. As more blasts peppered her side, she shot a look at the horde before dropping a clawed hand upon him as though he was the one attacking.

He flinched as it lowered. Likely screamed too, although he couldn't quite hear over his pulse pounding in his ears.

But the giant hand didn't come down all the way, instead stopping in an arch above him. More a cage than a crusher, but could easily change between the two.

Through her claws, he could see Lopmon, far too calm given his near draining. "It's okay," he assured. "It's still her; everything's fine." 

Shuuji wanted to believe that, but after what he had seen...

Woodmon lowered the dangerous log towards Lopmon once again, but instead of plunging it in she rested it on the ground before him. Shifting his hold on the creature in his sling, he gave Shuuji a nod before climbing onto the log and being lifted away to who-knows-where.

...He didn't hear any screaming. Only a skidding noise, followed by a muffled voice... No, voices...?

"Blast Coffin!"

The hand covering him tensed as Woodmon roared in pain. Her fingers closed in around him, and that motion was his breaking point.

"Tiny Twister!" He sent the wind up into her palm. It proved to be a more effective target than the rest of her body, getting knocked back enough for him to escape the trap.

He looked back as he did. Woodmon hadn't moved, just looking down at him with eyes that seemed sad. That perceived sadness may've been the only thing that made him hesitate from running any further away.

"Sorry," she rumbled. Her clawed hand lowered once more, this time resting beside him palm up. "Would this be better?"

The calmer, more considerate gesture finally broke through the disconnect. Despite the increased brutality and the more intimidating form compared to Vegiemon, deep down, this was still the Floramon he knew. She was still rational and recognized them, and although she was acting much more aggressive towards their enemies it was all in an attempt to protect them.

She grunted as more electric blasts were fired into her back. "Lopmon, come on! Time to go!"

Her volume startled him to action, sending him jumping into her claw. She brought him close to her trunk, trapping him once more. But it was for the sake of protection — he needed to remind himself of that.

He clung to both that mantra and her body as she began to move, the pack's voices growing more and more distant...

"Destruction Roar!"

With an eardrum-bursting screech, Diatrymon sent a soundwave at the latest attacking group of gazimon.

The forest was crawling with those kemonogami this morning. Ever since they started their search for the professor, they kept running into group after group of them. At this point, Takuma was beginning to believe the professor may've been captured by those creatures somewhere.

Not that they were willing to tell if they did. Minoru had tried to communicate with them at the start, but it didn't go well. Fortunately, Falcomon had evolved shortly after and chased off the initial group. Less fortunate was the fact the group kept coming back with more add-ons each time. Although they were able to fend them off whenever they returned, it was clear that their tactics were wearing down their partners.

Well, specifically Diatrymon and Agumon. Kunemon was also with them, but he had been hanging from Ryo like a living scarf ever since they left the school, refusing to leave his neck. After Ryo's close call with the dokugumon yesterday, Takuma didn't blame him for being a little overprotective. Although, if these attacks continued for much longer, he might need to encourage him to join in...

In the distance, a wolf howled. The current group of gazimon collectively froze.

"The distress howl," one murmured. "Did something happen?"

"Think those punks got the drop on him?" another asked.

"Of course not! He'd wipe the floor with a buncha losers like them!"

As they talked, a new gazimon rushed out from the bushes. "Fall back!" he shouted. "The boss's outta commission and his attacker's on a rampage! Everyone, regroup at the cave!"

"Something that could take down the boss?" The gazimon that spoke sounded faint.

"Nuts to this!" another declared. "A couple of brats ain't worth dealing with something like that!"

At those words, the gathered gazimon retreated from sight. Takuma had a feeling this time they wouldn't be coming back.

"Yeah, you better run!" Minoru called after them.

"Bit early to celebrate," Ryo warned. "Remember what else they said?"

"Maybe this time we've got reinforcements?" With a hopeful grin, Minoru added, "If that other one attacked their boss, they can't be on the same side, right?"

"True, but an enemy of an enemy is not always a friend," Diatrymon noted, staring off into the woods. The other kemonogami followed his gaze.

Kunemon hissed. Ryo raised a hand to soothe the distressed insect. "He says he can sense it's coming," he translated. "And it's much stronger than the gazimon."

"Takuma, should I evolve too?"

Takuma considered Agumon's question. His partner had fought as Tyrannomon during earlier skirmishes but had since reverted to conserve his energy (at least until Diatrymon could no longer hold his form). Despite that small rest and the dino's brave face, Takuma could tell he was still drained quite a bit by the previous battles. 

"Let's confirm whether they're friendly first. We don't want to give them the wrong idea." 

"We'll find out soon," Minoru warned. The distant sound of heavy running feet and snapping branches was becoming gradually louder until, at last, the source of the noise charged out from the trees-

...Another tree?

Well, if rock monsters could be kemonogami, it made sense that there'd be plant monsters too...

It slowed as it noticed their group, pausing to study them. Its face seemed unfriendly, but it didn't hold itself in a threatening way. Two clawed arms (or branches?) were held close to its trunk while a larger pair raised, almost as though in surrender.

"Good day to you," Diatrymon called out. "Are you friend or foe?"

"Depends," it rumbled. "Are you friends with those humans?"

Takuma could see Agumon tense from the question. It set him on edge too — between the professor's stories and the way many other kemonogami had acted towards them, such a question usually wasn't a good sign.

"And if we were, how would that change your response?" Diatrymon asked, shifting into a more defensive stance.

After looking him over once more, the tree nodded. "If you are, then we are friends as well," it declared. It lowered its more handlike branches to the ground, dropping something off as it began to glow and shrink to a size much closer to Agumon's and Falcomon's. As the light faded, two familiar figures stumbled away from its smaller form.

"More of a warning next time please," Saki requested, getting an apology from the now much smaller and less wooden creature.

Satisfied, Diatrymon also reverted, turning back into Falcomon. His partner beamed at the new arrivals.

"Hey! Long time no see!" Minoru greeted. "Didn't expect to see you two popping out of a tree monster."

"Woodmon," Saki corrected. "And to be honest, I wasn't expecting to be riding around inside her either." 

"That evolution was a surprise for all of us," the former woodmon said.

"So I'm guessing she's your partner?" Takuma asked, getting a nod from both Saki and the flowerlike creature. He looked over to Shuuji, fussing over a horned monster in his sling. "And that one is Shuuji's?"

The older boy looked up upon hearing his name. "Huh? Oh, no, I'm with Lopmon," he said, gesturing with his head to where Woodmon had put something down earlier. 

That "something," as it turned out, was a brown rabbitlike kemonogami. It was slightly trembling as it stood up, glancing around until it froze, wide-eyed, at seeing Ryo and Kunemon. 

The boy shifted under the stare. "Do you need something?"

"Ah! No, sorry," Lopmon squeaked, quickly looking away.

"Way to spook the bunny, Ryo," Minoru teased.

"I-I was just asking a question-!"

"Don't worry about that sourpuss. He looks a lot scarier than he actually is."

Ryo squinted at him. "I can't tell if that's supposed to be a compliment or an insult."

"Then let's say it's a compliment," Minoru said with a wink.

Judging from Kunemon's hiss, he disagreed.

"So, then, who's that?" Takuma asked, pointing to the creature in Shuuji's pouch.

"We found this guy a little while ago," he explained, adjusting his arm around it to give Takuma a better look. "He got hurt badly by a much stronger creature. I don't think he would've survived if we left him behind."

"It kinda looks like Koromon," he observed. It was nothing more than a head with some extra features, although this other creature had a horn and orange fur in place of rabbitlike ears and pink scaly skin.

"That's a tsunomon," Agumon corrected. "But you're not far off. They're about as strong as a koromon."

So... very weak then. Takuma could remember how Agumon had been as Koromon — so determined to keep him safe even when he stood no chance against his foe. His fight against the gotsumon while in that form had almost been sad to watch.

Perhaps their group had experienced something similar with that tsunomon? If so, no wonder Shuuji seemed so protective of the little guy.

"There should be some first aid supplies back at the school," Takuma reported. "The building looks a lot older than before, but when we were taking inventory the medicine and bandages looked like new. I don't know how well they'd work on kemonogami, but..."

Despite his uncertainty, Shuuji smiled at his words. "That would be a great help."

"So, then, are we calling off the search early and going back?" Minoru asked.

"Who were you looking for?"

Takuma rubbed at his neck. "Well... anyone, really. Agumon found the professor's hat earlier so we were expecting to find him, but you two were the first ones we found. Or, I guess you found us...?" He lifted the accessory in question, continuing with "We're still missing the professor and Aoi. Oh, and those local kids: Kaito and Miu."

Saki's partner looked up in alarm. "Wait, Aoi's not with you!?"

"Not yet," he repeated. "We're still looking for her."

"Oh..." she looked down, biting at her lip. She looked very upset by the news, enough to get a concerned look from both Shuuji and Saki.

"I told her about Aoi last night," Saki explained with a sad smile. "Floramon was really looking forward to meeting her."

"I see..." Takuma murmured. That would explain the reaction. "I'm sorry we couldn't find her sooner, but that doesn't mean we won't find her at all."

"She's resourceful," Shuuji noted softly. "I wouldn't be surprised if she could find her way back herself."

Kunemon kewed something that made Agumon gasp. "Come on! We gotta have more faith in her than that!"

"It's too early to give up on anyone," Falcomon agreed.

"Right... Right, I'm sure she's fine." Floramon smiled, but it looked forced. "Maybe she'll already be there when we get back."

"Maybe..." Lopmon echoed, sounding much more obviously uncertain.

"What's your call?" Takuma asked, deferring to the eldest. "Should we continue the search, or head back?"

Shuuji's eyes shifted between the hat and the creature in his arms. He turned towards Lopmon, sharing a quick look with him before the rabbitlike kemonogami looked away.

"Like he said, it's your call."

After a moment, Shuuji turned back to Takuma, seeming slightly deflated as he made the decision. “We should head back to the school. The little guy really needs to get treated, and I think we could all use a moment to recover. When we get back, we can regroup and decide what to do next.”

And so the choice was made. It was apparent that not everyone was happy about it (which Shuuji seemed well aware of, given the repeated apologies under his breath), but at the same time their partners could use a rest from the continual fights and they couldn't ignore the tsunomon's needs.

Takuma just hoped wherever the others were, they'd be able to hold out until they were found...

Chapter Text

For once, the dam was peaceful.

There were no screams of fear filling the air, no pained shouts, no attacks flying every which way; nobody making any rash or brainless actions that would ultimately end in division and grief.

Nothing but Plutomon and the vast expanse of the reservoir below.

Watching the silvery water churn beneath her... it almost gave her a sense of serenity. It really was a beautiful sight. Neither part of her had the chance to appreciate it or take it in the last time they were here, what with Fangmon breathing down their necks and their panic over the professor's descent. 

An unnecessary concern in hindsight, but one that teased the true losses to follow. Ryo... Shuuji...

...Saki...

She came back. Not as a whisper in the back of her mind, not as some ghastly shade, but in her real body. Flesh and blood. Alive.

Saki was alive.

Seeing her back in the forest... It made her feel a way she didn't know she could anymore. It was a light and dizzying feeling that made her want to laugh.

And why shouldn't she? Who was there to stop her?

Her distorted voice twisted the sound into a wild cackle, breaking the nerve of several distant observers. The echo of an old identity felt a pang of guilt as she felt their signals retreat, but Plutomon brushed it aside.

Let them be scared; it didn't matter what they thought. Saki was alive. All of them were alive.

Somehow, in some way, her dying wish had been granted with interest. Not only had she been given one more chance to make up for her worst mistakes, but she had been returned to a time where she could save everyone else from making their own.

It was as though her first lives had been a practice run or a horrible premonition of what would happen if she did nothing. Back then, both sides of her had been too weak and unprepared to change anything, but she wasn't that same naive little girl or her puppy anymore. She was something much better now, with all the power and foreknowledge she needed to bring everyone the ending they deserved.

This time, things would be different.

This time, things would be perfect.

The moment they arrived at the school, Lopmon disappeared into the nurse's office.

In as gentle a motion as he could, he removed the jacket from his neck and placed it on a medical bed. The tsunomon bundled within the fabric made a barely conscious noise of protest, to which he murmured an apology. There was no sign that it was heard.

Once sure the tsunomon was situated, Lopmon found the first aid kit and retrieved a dark bottle and several bandages from within. He didn't know much about healing, but he witnessed enough after-battle patch-ups to at least understand the basics: small, light injuries got treated with the stingy-healy salve, while anything that looks serious gets a bandage. 

He dipped a couple fingers into the bottle and gave them a sniff. Seemed to be the right one — even to his dulled sense of smell, the bitter, medicinal scent was obvious. To make sure, he tested it first against his own wound.

Despite knowing the expected outcome, he hissed as the ointment made contact. Yep, that was the familiar sting!

Shaking off the pain, he returned to the bed. Kneeling beside it, he brushed those same fingers down the tsunomon's back, watching closely for any reactions. Most were minor, like a face scrunch of discomfort, but twice the small body spasmed under his touch. Both times, Lopmon pulled away, retrieving a bandage to apply to the reaction site.

"Mnn... Aagh..."

The second bandage almost slipped from his grasp. Clenching a fist around it, he turned back towards the tsunomon. His red eyes had cracked open, squinting out into the room through an uncomprehending glaze.

"Wh...ere...?" he croaked, wincing with every syllable.

Slowly, as to not startle the half-awake patient, Lopmon moved a salve-coated finger under his muzzle. The tsunomon's lip curled from the strong scent, but his fur smoothed in recognition. With an almost resigned sigh, his head (well, entire body) drooped forward and his eyelids shut once more. 

After a few more seconds, Lopmon whispered, "Are you still awake?"

There was no response. Off to escape the pain through his dreams once again.

Lopmon applied the second bandage.

The tsunomon remained asleep throughout the rest of the process. Aside from the reactive shudders, he didn't so much as stir. It was as though he had never woken at all. 

But Lopmon knew he did, and that had sparked an excited hope within him. 

He sat back on his heels, looking over his work. It wasn't much, but every little bit helped. Even that small amount of support seemed to be paying off — that had been the longest time the tsunomon held his eyes open since he had settled into the jacket and the first time he had been able to form words! It had to be a sign; he had to be waking up for real soon!

Lopmon wanted to be with him when he did, but he knew he had to leave. The meeting to discuss their next plans was coming up. If he was himself, he might've asked to be excused from it (assuming he could summon the nerve), but as Shuuji he had to be there. Humans made the decisions after all, and as the humans' chosen leader it was doubly important he go. And chances were good that they'd be going out to search right after the meeting... Would it be alright to leave him alone for however long that takes? 

Maybe he could push for them to stay back? At least until the tsunomon woke up for real. But what if his judgement was wrong and "soon" turned out to mean a day or two? Or more!? It wouldn't be right to ask them to wait so long, especially for this partnerless stranger. Their friends were more important, and they could be in trouble — Aoi should've been with them by now and around this time during their previous life the professor had been in big danger. They had to be found as soon as possible.

But was the tsunomon not worthy of care just because he was an outsider? What if his condition worsened while they were away? Or what if Lopmon's judgement was right? He knew if he was in the tsunomon's position he would've been confused and terrified to wake up alone somewhere he didn't know and in a form much weaker and more vulnerable than he was used to.

Of course he knew that — he'd experienced it just the other day!

It had really helped to have someone by his side to calm him down and support him through the adjustment. He wanted the other to have that same assistance.

But would the humans understand his concerns, or would they get mad at him for even suggesting it, taking it as him prioritizing "a monster" over the lives of their missing friends? He had felt a lot of their disappointed eyes on him for choosing to go back before... 

...Maybe he should stay in the nurse's office. His stomach was starting to hurt...

There was a tapping at the door. Lopmon jumped to his feet, hitting his knee on the bed on his way up and crying out in pain.

"You alright in there?" Saki's voice called.

"Y-Yeah," he lied, rubbing his kneecap. "Sorry to keep you waiting; I was just on my way over-!"

"Not yet. Gonna keep you a few more minutes."

Lopmon winced. Saki had seemed the most disappointed with his choice to return earlier. Not that it was surprising, given how close she and Aoi had been. Hopefully she wasn't still upset with him...

"Can you get the door?"

"Ah! Right!" He hobbled over to open it. Thankfully, the face that greeted him on the other side was, at worst, neutral. She flashed a short smile in greeting before pushing past him, carrying a mound of towels in her arms.

"What's all that?"

"Bedding material," she explained, patting the top of the collection. "Figured you'd want your jacket back at some point?"

"O-Oh. Thank you." It would be good to get the jacket back before the meeting. It wasn't super cold out, but the bite wound was growing more obvious by the hour. He didn't want anyone to start asking questions or making any assumptions about how he got it, especially during the early days when there was more mistrust from the humans.

"The sheets in here are really thin, and I thought the blankets might've been a bit too big, so towels it was." She smiled, putting them down at the foot of the bed. "So, how's your little patient?"

"Much better than before. The first aid stuff does wonders for these guys. He's opened his eyes for the first time since the tree; even mumbled a few words. Won't be long now until he's up for real, and..." He trailed off. Saki was snickering. "Is something wrong? Did I say something funny?"

"No, nothing like that," she said with a smile. "It's just, the way your face lit up when talking about him. You've really taken a liking to the little guy, huh?"

"I guess so..." he mumbled. Maybe he was getting a bit too attached...

"I guess so," she mimicked, shaking her head. "You don't have to say it like it's something embarrassing. It's... kinda nice to see, actually." Lopmon was pretty sure he caught a look of sadness despite her words, but she winked at him before he could be certain. "Just be careful you don't make Lopmon jealous of all the attention you're giving 'em."

"Lopmon wouldn't get jealous," he protested. Jealousy was getting upset with someone for something they had; he couldn't recall any instances like that. Sure he wanted a bond like what the other partners had and it never felt good whenever Shuuji negatively compared him to the others, but he never resented or otherwise blamed them for that. If anything, he'd get frustrated with himself over not being good enough to earn that same sort of praise and wish that he could become someone just as dependable. That wasn't the same thing.

...Was it?

In any rate, Shuuji wouldn't get jealous over the lack of attention. Heck, he was probably glad Lopmon had someone else taking up his time. 

...A part of him kinda wished Shuuji would be jealous. At least a little...

"I'm just saying, keep an eye on him. These guys take being our partners very seriously. You wouldn't want him to think you're trying to replace him."

She was preaching to the choir, but Lopmon nodded anyway.

Satisfied, Saki turned towards the slumbering tsunomon. "It's good to hear this one's doing better though. Truly." This time, he could clearly see a solemn look that didn't match her words. Understandable, given how his condition had led to Lopmon's choice...

He found himself preemptively apologizing. "I know we should be out looking for the others right now, but I... you saw how he was! He was one bad bump away from scattering to the wind; I couldn't subject him to a longer walk through the woods, much less one where we could be ambushed at any time!" He sighed. "Thinking back on it now, maybe I should've thought more about our friends..."

She continued staring down at the tsunomon with a pensive look. "Aoi... should've been here by now. And it really bothers me that she isn't. But I don't think it's a bad thing we came back to regroup." She looked towards him. "Even if you were thinking mostly about the little one, Lopmon and Floramon really needed a rest too. No matter how much Floramon's been counting down the minutes until we could go out again."

"Sounds like she wants to go as much as you do."

"Maybe even more," Saki agreed, chuckling. "But I think that makes the insistence to rest even more necessary. If she wasn't forced to take a breather, I'm sure she'd run herself ragged trying to find 'em."

"So you're not mad that we came back?"

"Don't get me wrong; I would've preferred to go look for her and I still want to head out ASAP. But if Aoi could make it through the night on her own, I'm sure she can handle a few more hours in broad daylight. Especially if she got one of those guys partnered to her as well. And the same goes for the others," she added, almost as an afterthought.

Lopmon could feel some of his worries fade away. That was a good point: Labramon was sure to be with Aoi. Not only was she fiercely loyal and protective, but her Cure Liquor could heal injuries even faster than their first aid supplies. Wherever those two were right now, she'd be able to keep her partner alive for as long as it took for them to find her.

"Besides, it's not like we aren't going at all," she continued with a shrug. "We'll be heading out right after the meeting."

"I mean, if that's what everyone agrees to do..."

"I'd be surprised if they didn't. But even if they don't, Floramon and I would still probably just head out when nobody's looking to search on our own."

As quickly as they disappeared, Lopmon's worries returned. "For your own safety, please don't."

"Just kidding!"

Even as Saki laughed it off, he was pretty sure that wasn't actually a joke.

"What took you so long?"

Lopmon cringed. Yep, that was the kind of greeting he'd expected from Shuuji. As soon as they arrived at the cafeteria, he had separated from the others to greet them with crossed arms.

Saki gave Lopmon a knowing look, mouthing an I warned you. She then turned to Shuuji. "It's my fault. He was on his way over but got caught up talking with me."

"Oh? About what?" The question sounded calm and curious, but Lopmon could see unease in the way his ears tilted. 

"Things like how the tsunomon's doing and some last minute meeting expectations," he explained. "Nothing special."

Shuuji seemed to pick up on the unspoken I didn't expose our switch in his response.

"Well, you weren't the last to arrive," he relented, ears returning to their typical position. "You haven't missed anything; Floramon's been telling everyone what happened before we regrouped." There was a tiny wince as he added, "She... glossed over what happened with the demidevimon. If anyone asks, the story's that I ran out of shame for not noticing them in time."

Saki nodded, moving in from the doorway. Lopmon waited a moment more, searching the room. With how long the two of them had been talking, he was sure they would've been the last ones to arrive. As it turned out, they were only second to last.

As Saki claimed a table near the story circle, Floramon was beginning to narrate their battle with Fangmon. Agumon and Falcomon listened along, occasionally interjecting with reactions and questions (Agumon with higher frequency). Their partners stood off to the side, more distant from the cluster of creatures. They seemed to be alternating between following the story and talking among themselves. 

Takuma met his eyes. Smiling, he gave him a beckoning wave. Lopmon crossed over to them, Shuuji following at his heels.

"Hey, there you are," Minoru greeted as he approached.

"And Saki's here too," Takuma added. "Guess that just leaves Ryo."

"Jeez, what's taking him so long? You don't think another spider nabbed him?"

Lopmon was about to ask how they already knew about HER before Takuma replied, "That shouldn't be the case. All their webs had disappeared after Tyrannomon took down the last of them."

Right, there had been an infestation of dokugumon in this school before they arrived... 

Also, Tyrannomon?

Putting that question away, Lopmon instead asked, "Should one of us go get him?"

"We could-"

Takuma was interrupted by polite applause and energetic claps from the center of the room. Floramon had concluded her retelling. 

"Or," he offered, "since you're all here, we can catch you up on what we've found and give him a little extra time to finish whatever he's doing."

Ryo would probably be grumpy if rushed and it would be useful to know what else was different this time, but weren't they in a hurry to get the meeting over with? Lopmon glanced towards Shuuji to gauge which he thought was the better option. As usual, he avoided the look.

...Well, Takuma was the one who suggested the idea and Lopmon trusted his judgement too. He agreed to his suggestion.

As it turned out, not much had changed with their group. Most of the differences were minor, such as Agumon becoming Tyrannomon instead of Tuskmon. In Aoi's absence, Ryo had been the one abducted by the dokugumon, which had left Kunemon an utter wreck. The remaining pairs went to look for them. The search eventually led Takuma into the music room, where he met an odd child-

Child. Singular child.

Saki asked if they mentioned any others ("Maybe they were part of another group that got stuck here?"). Although Takuma said he didn't think to ask, Lopmon would've assumed either Haru or Miyuki would've brought up their sibling without being prompted — they'd seemed very close; if something happened to the other, it surely would've been mentioned. Unless this time they didn't trust their group as much and decided to hide the other's existence from them...?

Aside from that strangeness, nothing about the recollection hit Lopmon as out of the ordinary. Overall, it sounded normal.

All of this felt normal. 

Overlooking the absence of some of their friends and the fact he could now look everyone in the eye, this was the same as any other cafeteria gathering. There was some comfort to that familiarity, this time lacking the constant painful reminder that someone who should've been with them was gone forever.

Even if he wasn't in the cafeteria, Ryo was still alive and in the school. From the little Lopmon saw of him, he seemed much better off this time around too.

Aoi should've been here, but she'd be safe while Labramon was with her.

Kaito and Miu were found tomorrow and the next day; they'd be fine until then.

The professor... had to be somewhere...

As Takuma recounted extracting Ryo from the webs, the doors to the cafeteria opened once more. Ryo walked in with Kunemon coiled around his arm, grimacing at what he heard.

"Not a fun experience," he said with a shiver.

"Speak of the devil." Minoru grinned at the final pair. "We were wondering when you'd show up."

Ryo shrugged his free shoulder. "Lost track of time."

"Kew KEW kew, kekew..." Kunemon grumbled. Lopmon had never been great at understanding the insect dialect, but it sounded like he was blaming someone for their tardiness.

The story circle broke apart as the members paired off with their partners. As everyone settled in, Lopmon felt a tug on a pant leg. Looking down, he saw Shuuji staring up with a flat expression. He jerked his head towards the center of the cafeteria, rolling his wrist in a beckoning motion.

...Oh, right!

"So! Now that everyone's here, are we-?"

"Alright!" Saki interrupted, clapping her hands. "Everyone ready to head out?"

The sudden declaration caught Lopmon off guard. They had only just started the meeting and they were already skipping to the end? "H-Hold on! Weren't we going to talk about it first?"

"Do we need to?" She raised an eyebrow. "Is there anyone here who doesn't want to go?"

"Well, no, I mean, of course we all want to, but there are other things we need to consider first! Like, is everyone able to? Have they all recovered enough? I know Lopmon and Floramon had that really rough fight right before-"

"I'm alright," Shuuji interrupted. "I've got no problems with going."

"Neither do I," Floramon agreed, running a hand up her replenished neck petals. "Ever since evolving, I've been completely refreshed."

She was looking much better — despite the heavy damage she had taken before, everything looked to have healed completely after she reverted. Still, she was the only one who had evolved during that fight; his partner hadn't received that same sort of boost. He also had a bad habit of denying his pain, as if it was a moral failure for him to admit having any. 

"I'm fine," Shuuji repeated in a clipped hiss, sending Lopmon a firm stare as though he heard his thoughts. "You don't need to worry about me." 

But I DO worry... Lopmon maintained the look, even as Shuuji turned from it. He knew his body's silent cues and needs much more than that of a human's, and he could tell that his partner was much less "fine" than he claimed to be. 

Not that he was going to call him on it in front of the others. Or even privately. He'd lose it.

"Agumon? Falcomon?" Takuma asked. "How about you?"

"All set and ready to go!" Agumon chirped.

Falcomon nodded. "Likewise."

"Well, it's good to hear everyone's doing well." Lopmon paused, building his nerve. "There's... also the tsunomon-"

"Ohhh, NOW it makes sense!"

He cleared his throat, trying not to get too flustered by Saki's playfully knowing interruption. "Y-Yeah. I've just... also wanted to give everyone an update; he's doing much better than before too. Maybe a little too much better..."

"Little guy turned out to be a handful?" Minoru asked, eyes glinting with the same amusement as Saki's. "He making a mess and bouncing off the walls?"

"No, not yet. He... actually hasn't completely woken up yet. But he should soon. Maybe. When I was with him earlier, he'd opened his eyes for a bit, but I don't think he actually knew where he was or what was going on." He hesitated — now was the part he had been worrying about. "I'd... rather not leave him alone until he knows."

"So you'd want to stay at the school until the tsunomon's fully awake?" Takuma clarified.

"I'd like to. If that would be alright." Lopmon tried not to mumble his response. He didn't think he succeeded.

Saki and Floramon exchanged a look. "I... suppose we can wait until then," Saki said slowly. "It shouldn't take that much longer, right?"

"That's the problem: I don't know how much longer it'll take. Minutes? Hours? Days?" Lopmon winced. "I-I really don't want to hold up the search, but I'm also worried about leaving him alone while we're gone. If he wakes up, he might panic and start breaking things or hurt himself-"

"So you need a babysitter?" Ryo spoke up. "There's no reason we all have to go; Kunemon and I can stick behind. 'Sides, we still need to work on something we can only do here anyway."

Minoru looked baffled. "Is it that same 'something' you said you'd be working on ever since we got back? How is it still not finished?"

"There's been a... minor issue that's proven to be more of a problem than we've expected."

Kunemon followed up on his words with a frustrated hiss and a stinger twitch. 

"Splitting up wouldn't be the worst idea," Saki decided. "And this way, if anyone who's missing makes it to the school while we're gone, they won't think it's abandoned."

"But would it be okay to split up?" Takuma frowned. "What if there's another attack?

"Because we've participated so much in all the other ones?" Ryo gave a half-smile. "Trust me, you won't notice anything with us gone."

"I meant with you," he explained. "We've cleared out all those spider monsters-"

"Dokugumon," Agumon corrected.

"-but it's possible something else could show up while we're out. Like that green electric one that was hiding in the bathroom."

"That betamon was just scared; he left peacefully once all the webs were gone."

"Even so..."

"If you're worried about attacks, Lopmon and I could stay here too," Lopmon volunteered. "We can back them up."

Shuuji whirled back to face him, looking as though Lopmon had declared he'd drink dokugumon toxin. A "What-!?" slipped from his mouth before he quickly clammed up.  

Not fast enough to avoid Floramon's notice. "I think Lopmon would like to go."

Her assertion seemed to make Shuuji even more flustered. "No, it's... fine. Just... wasn't expecting it."

"If he really wants to go, he can," Lopmon said. "I just thought we'd be better off back here. I mean, he's kinda in the same situation as Kunemon..."

"Seriously, I'm okay with backup-!"

"He's been participating!" Floramon snapped over his words.

"I-I know, I know!" Lopmon flinched back, trying to think of a better way to explain. "I meant with the evolutions! Or the... no-evolutions. There's a huge gap of power between what he can do and what Woodmon can do. And probably Diatrymon and Tyrannomon too. I hate to say it, but in comparison, there's not really much we can do."

They hated to hear it too — a small warning thump came from beside him. The sound was masked by an irate "Kew!" 

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, boss," Ryo commented dryly. "Granted, I can't say I disagree. We really are kinda the weakest links right now."

"Y-Yes, that's what I meant!"

"We're more than willing and capable of defending our 'weak links' until they evolve too!" Floramon asserted.

"I wouldn't take his words too harshly," Falcomon interjected. "I believe what he said was meant more as an argument to stay by the tsunomon's bedside than out of any genuine belief of their strength or lack thereof."

It was truthfully a mix of both, but Lopmon appreciated that he gave him an out. "It was that obvious?"

"You should've just come out and said it."

Floramon huffed, looking less convinced. "Still..."

Trying (and failing) to ignore both of their disapproving looks, he turned to the others he offended. "Oh, and Ryo? Just to be clear: I think you would've done a good job watching him on your own. It just sounded like you're going to be busy working on that 'something' of yours and I didn't want you to have to divide your attention." 

Ryo gave him an strange look, as though he wasn't sure how to take his explanation. Despite his lack of eyes, Kunemon seemed to mirror the expression as he chirred quizzically.

"Okay, so Shuuji and Ryo are both staying back; everyone else is going?" Takuma summarized.

"That appears to be the case," Lopmon agreed. "It sounds like you've done well keeping the others in line while we were separated. Can I count on you to do the same this time as well?"

He seemed surprised by the request. "I should be able to do so..." 

"Of course you could!" Agumon encouraged.

Minoru chuckled. "The way he said that it almost felt like he was passing the torch to you. Or at least making you our official Leader B." 

"I wouldn't go that far!" Lopmon denied. That was a choice for Shuuji to make, not one he felt right making for him.

Still, having some backup... that might be something worth discussing with him. "But, I might consider the la-"

There was another thump; this one firm and loud enough to get everyone's attention. Lopmon looked to see Shuuji cringing, clearly having not expected the noise to get so many eyes on him. His face was flushed under his fur, although Lopmon wasn't sure if the cause was outrage or embarrassment.

Either way, they needed to leave.

Lopmon stepped in front of his partner, shielding him from at least some of the eyes. "Please, excuse us. You can continue on without us." With an apologetic nod, he hurried to the door, a mortified Shuuji in tow. 

It was the calm before the storm.

Shuuji pushed past him when they left the cafeteria, keeping ahead as they walked down the hall. He hadn't said anything, but Lopmon could see him quiver with unexpressed emotion.

Lopmon was quiet as well, trying to think of the best approach to his partner's seething. His primary instinct was to apologize, but he wasn't sure of what exactly had set him off. An apology could make things worse if Shuuji thought it was insincere. Or if he tried to explain himself — that might be interpreted as him making excuses. Maybe he'd be better off waiting for him to talk first, but would he do so before his temper gets super bad?

While he was considering possibilities, Shuuji stopped walking. After a few more seconds, he sighed. "And so the other shoe drops," he intoned. "Couldn't you have at least left the others out of it?"

Lopmon blinked. "Left the others out of it..." Like what they had been doing with the switch? Was that what the problem was? Had he said too much during the meeting and revealed something he shouldn't have?

"Did I give too much away?"

There was another long silence. "Of course..." Shuuji muttered, turning back to face him. Now that Lopmon could see his expression, he looked almost... defeated. "Look, I know what you're doing. And I get it. Having to put up with someone like me, I'd be wanting revenge too."

"Revenge?"

He chuckled darkly before continuing in a sarcastic hiss. "It's alright, you guys go and do the risky part without us. You won't notice anything with us gone; we're much too weak and useless to actually do anything for you. Here, Takuma, you do everything; you'd do a much better job than I ever could. You're not one of the WEAKEST LINKS like your leader is! Hell, why don't we just put you in charge and ditch me in some basement somewhere! It's not like it's my JOB to keep everyone together! Go look on your own; get yourself killed! See what I care! Not like I could do anything about it when I'm stuck like this anyway!"

By the end of his tirade, Shuuji was puffing and Lopmon was too stunned to speak. Was that really how the humans interpreted what he said? From what he remembered, they didn't seem to take it negatively... Still, it was clear that even if they didn't believe it, that was what Shuuji believed he meant, probably because of that "revenge" idea.  

"Wait, I wasn't trying to-! I-I didn't mean-!"

Either Lopmon's protests were too quiet or Shuuji was too worked up to listen to them. With a long and heavy exhale, he spoke once more. "Would've thought you'd wait for a larger audience, but I guess the opportunity was just too sweet." His lip curled in a wry expression. "Congratulations. You caught me off guard."

"Please, listen..."

He looked away — again — fight draining from his body. "I know I'm in no position to make requests, but whatever grudge you have against me... don't retaliate in a way that'll hurt the others. They don't deserve it. There must be hundreds of ways you could get back at me without making things harder or more dangerous for them and I... I'll accept any of them. No complaints; I won't tell anyone. Just, please, don't punish them for my-"

"Shuuji! Hold on a second!" The request came out much louder than intended — loud enough to finally get through to his partner, but also enough to make him flinch away. "Why do you think I want revenge?"

He hesitated. "Is that a rhetorical question, or do you want a list?"

Lopmon could only stare.

...This wasn't working. Even when switched around, the cycle of fear and distrust was an endless spiral; the only difference was in how it was expressed. There'd never be any improvements as long as Shuuji was expecting retaliation, but how could Lopmon get through to him while he was assuming the worst?

Sighing, he sat down. "Shuuji, what do you want me to do?"

He gave no answer, silently focused on the floorboards.

"I'm genuinely asking: what do you want me to do?"

Still nothing.

Back to this... Lopmon could feel a tremble in his limbs. 

"What am I supposed to do!?" The plea burst out, and this time Lopmon couldn't hold the emotion back. "I don't want to be messing anything up, but without any instructions, I can only do what I think is right! But what's right for me isn't right for you and I need to be you but I'm not you and this isn't working and I need help!"  

Shuuji took a sharp breath. The acknowledgement was all Lopmon needed to regain his senses. He fell silent, giving his partner room to speak. It wasn't taken, but Shuuji looked up from the ground again — eyes guarded, but clearly listening.

"I need help." Lopmon reiterated, reining back his volume. "I'm not human. I'm not a leader. I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing. I want to be useful to you, but I can't do that if I don't know how. Can you please teach me?"

Shuuji remained quiet a moment longer, as though waiting for him to reveal it was all just a joke. "Why... would you want to?"

"We're partners. Isn't that enough?"

His look said volumes.

Of course. It hadn't been enough for That Beast. Any appeal to trust was forever tainted by that monster's shadow. If Lopmon wanted to convince him, he'd need a different approach.

"I don't know how long we're going to be stuck like this, but I don't think it's going to be ending anytime soon. While I'm like this, I can't defend myself like I used to. N-Not that I'm saying you're weak, just that you can't fight them the way we can. Well, right now you can, but-" Lopmon stopped, taking a breath to reset himself. "The point is, even if I did want revenge on you or the others — which I don't! — it's in my best interest to keep our friends safe. We're connected to you guys after all. One less human means one less defender."

Shuuji seemed to actually consider the explanation. "You couldn't have really believed those cafeteria arguments were good..."

Lopmon winced. "I don't do well under pressure. And I also didn't realize how they could've sounded coming from me... well, you."

He searched his face a minute more, looking for any reason at all to doubt his words.

"I-If it helps, you can consider the lessons my revenge: you said I don't know anything about humans, so now you prove what you know and we'll see how humanlike it makes me."

"What sort of revenge is that?" Shuuji scoffed. And yet, in the end, he nodded. "But sure. Alright. Let's find a classroom."

Chapter Text

It wasn't difficult to find a vacant classroom, nor to get a desk set up.

Then, once the two of them took their positions — Shuuji on top of the desk and Lopmon in the chair — the lesson officially began.

Lopmon followed along as best he could, but he admittedly was having some trouble doing so. The problem wasn't the speed — even though Shuuji was going through "the most important things to know as a human and leader" at a rapid rate, his tendency to stop to emphasize and reiterate the MOST most important things let Lopmon keep up well enough. Instead, the issues came from the quantity of information. Getting told so much in such a short amount of time made his head feel much too full. What made things worse was how some parts of the deluge of information seemed contradictory to other points that were made. If not downright impossible... 

"That should cover the foundation and top priorities. Before we move on, did anything seem unclear? Any questions?"

There was more? His head was going to explode at this rate!

No, he shouldn't complain. He asked to be taught, and Shuuji was teaching him. There was a lot of ground to cover to catch his understanding up to that of a human who had been learning such things since birth.

A lot...

Should he really make it take longer by asking questions? It was true that Lopmon had quite a few, and Shuuji did ask, but even then it may've been better if he didn't admit to it. Even if the lesson was reframed as "revenge," Lopmon didn't want to give him a hard or unpleasant time. If he asked too many questions, Shuuji might think he wasn't paying attention or that he didn't care about what he was saying.

"Nope, I'm good," Lopmon lied, trying his best to sound convincing.

His best wasn't enough. Shuuji frowned, sizing him up with a skeptical squint. Nothing needed to be said — even though his disapproving expressions were much less intimidating with their bodies exchanged, it was still impossible for Lopmon to lie when trapped under that look. 

"It's just a lot to take in, and hearing so much at once might've got some bits jumbled or may've made some of it a bit confusing, but I'm sure it just needs some time to settle!"

Shuuji's expression didn't change, but the rest of him seemed to slump. Lopmon couldn't tell if the cause was frustration or disappointment, but neither was an emotion he wished to cause.

"M-Maybe some of the later stuff will clarify-?"

"Did you mean it?"

The interruption was low and tired, but Lopmon still fell silent.

"What you said before? About wanting to do better? Needing my help? Did you really mean that?"

"Of course I did!"

Shuuji's face hardened from the confirmation. "Then take this seriously! If something confuses you, tell me so we can fix it! Now's the time for you to ask questions, not when you're on the spot and it's too late!"

Lopmon flinched. So much for not giving his partner a hard time... "R-Right, sorry."

"Don't apologize; just ask."

Lopmon bit down another apology, squirming in his seat. "Okay, um... I guess, first off, how hard is it to break something? Like an arm or leg or... spine... Not that I'm planning to try, but when this gets fixed I don't want you to come back to your body with anything unusable..."

Shuuji considered both him and the question. "Harder than you're probably thinking. That's bone in there, not glass." He pressed down on an arm in illustration before adding, "You do know what bones are, right?"

"They're like white rocks, but they come from bodies instead of the ground." Lopmon knew of enough creatures who had their own — either loose or growing on them — to use as weapons or armor. It sounded strange to him that humans would have them growing on the inside (he thought they were supposed to protect the body, not the other way around...), but it explained the weird hardness he felt beneath his skin...

"I suppose that's close enough," Shuuji determined. "They're as sturdy as that sounds: not impossible to break, but it's not easy to do so either. I mean, I've gone my whole life without..." He trailed off, expression souring. "MOST of my life before breaking any."

Lopmon cringed. Leave it to That Beast to ruin the streak...

"Anyway, if I could make it sixteen years, you can handle a few days... or weeks... this couldn't possibly last longer than that. It better not..." Shuuji shuddered, then shook his head to refocus. "Good rule of thumb: assume anything that's dangerous for you normally will be at least twice as dangerous when you're me. Don't put yourself into a situation where there would be a problem."

"But if I do end up in one, I should keep my back and neck protected at all costs," Lopmon recited, jumping at the chance to prove he was paying attention. "If something must be broken, arms are better than legs. Left arm better than the right, but I shouldn't break the thing on that arm."

"The watch."

"Yes, that." Lopmon ran a finger around the edge of its strap. "Can I take it off? It might be safer if I leave it somewhere." 

"Up until it catches the eye of some thieving scavenger and we end up with a repeat of the wallet incident," Shuuji grumbled. "Speaking of, that's an even higher priority. Like, phone-level importance. Whatever you do, DON'T lose track of it. It'd be a hassle, but there's at least a chance I could hide a busted watch until it's repaired. There's no way I could get everything in that replaced in time before they'd notice..."

"You're not talking about the others...?" Lopmon wouldn't think they'd notice, nor think any less of his partner for losing his things. If anything, they'd surely help him find them, just like Takuma did during the original wallet incident.

He responded with a curt "I'm not. Any other questions?"

That reaction just gave Lopmon a new one, but he knew it wouldn't be well-received. It was clear Shuuji wanted to avoid the topic, so he decided to drop it in favor of a different question.

Leader talk always seemed to get him motivated, so maybe a question about that would improve his mood? "You said that a leader's expected to know everything?"

"Pretty much," he shrugged. "You're the one they'd be turning to for answers."

"But I... don't. There's a lot I don't know. Won't they realize that?"

"With that attitude? Absolutely. How can you expect anyone to believe in you when you can't believe in yourself?"

"Sorry..."

"Don't apologize." Shuuji began pacing around the tabletop as he continued. "Nobody knows everything; the trick is to make them think you have all the answers. If you can't give them an answer, they'll lose faith in you and start to grow uncertain. Where there is uncertainty, there is fear, and fear makes people irrational and unpredictable. Not a good combination when you're trying to keep them alive."

Lopmon knew that all too well. He saw firsthand the kind of damage a lack of certainty and trust could cause...

"Even if you don't know the true answer, as long as the response you give them is convincing enough, you should be able to receive a satisfactory result. Which means speak with purpose, say things that are believable, and own what you say." He stopped pacing to stare him down. "And on a related point, stop trying to get me to make choices for you! The others are going to start noticing and think I'm incapable of making any decisions on my own."

So every time he was trying to gauge his opinion Lopmon had been silently signalling that he was incompetent? No wonder Shuuji always seemed so annoyed when he did! "Sorry-"

"Stop apologizing!" The response was almost automatic by this point.

"-I don't want them to think that about you, but I also don't want to mess up anything important by making a bad choice. Are there any cases where I should absolutely check with you no matter what?"

There was another short pause of thought. "Anything that would cause long-term consequences. For myself or any of the other kids."

That felt... vague. Even the smallest choice could cause lasting consequences they'd never be able to expect. "How do I know what that would be?"

"Anything that would cause major changes to our lives."

And that was just the same response given in a different way!

His confusion must've been apparent since Shuuji gave a frustrated sigh. "It's one of those things you're gonna have to judge for yourself in the moment. Point is, it shouldn't be every single decision. Think for yourself and, when you say something, do it with confidence. If you sound like you know what you're talking about, you should be able to convince them that you believe what you're saying. If nothing else."

"Confidence..." The way he described it made it sound easy, but in Lopmon's long list of weaknesses, his lack of confidence had always been near the top of the list. "I've never been good at that..."

"And?" Shuuji coolly responded. "Is that supposed to be an excuse? That's not going to change if you just accept it. All it means is you need to put in more of an effort."

"I do! I've been trying, but it's hard!"

"Nothing worth doing's easy. But practice can make things easier." He sat down, eyes boring into his own. "Repeat after me: I will trust in my decisions and my confidence will grow."

This didn't seem much like practice, just a personal promise that'll be tough to keep. Still, as Shuuji repeated the prompt with more force, Lopmon started to respond. "I will try-"

A sharp "No!" cut him off. "You're not 'trying!' Either you'll do it or you won't! Which do you choose?"

"I-I will!"

"Will what?"

"Get more confident!"

Shuuji said nothing, a challenge in his eyes.

Taking a breath, Lopmon met the look, repeating his words back at him: "I will trust in my decisions and my confidence will grow."

They held eye contact for a few more seconds. Lopmon was rewarded a small smile for his endurance. "Better. Hold yourself to that and keep practicing with similar affirmations. Maybe we'll reach a point where one of us can believe them."

"I won't let you down." He'd do his best not to, at least. It was sometimes a challenge to tell what would disappoint his partner. In fact, he could've sworn not long ago he would've been irritated by such a declaration.

Maybe there was something different about this sort of promise? "What's the difference between what we just did and, um... 'making promises I can't deliver?' Neither's really guaranteed..." 

"Reality," Shuuji responded as though it was obvious. "Again, you need people to actually believe what you're saying. If you know something's impossible, don't bother boasting it."

Lopmon didn't remember ever insisting on anything impossible those times Shuuji got upset. Things that would be difficult, sure, but around the same level of difficulty as that vow of confidence he just made. It didn't make sense that one would be okay but not the other...

Before he could question things further, Shuuji raised a hand to silence him. With twitching ears, he looked towards the door. A few seconds later there was a knock, followed shortly by the voices of Takuma and Agumon.

"Shuuji? Are you in there?"

"Heeey! Shuuji? Lopmon?"

Lopmon turned to Shuuji. He turned as well, then gestured at the door.

...Right. A human knock needs a human response.

"You can come in!"

Upon his invitation, the door opened. Agumon trotted inside with Takuma following at a slower pace.

"Hey," he greeted, looking over the scene before him. "Sorry if we're interrupting anything."

"Not a bother." Lopmon smiled at the newcomers. Out of anyone who could've interrupted the lesson, those two were the best intruders. "Did you need anything?"

Takuma shook his head. "Just checking in. I wanted to see how you were doing after what happened in the cafeteria."

"Doing better. Think we needed to step away for a minute. I was getting kinda overwhelmed in there, and I think that was starting to stress Lopmon out too-" 

An ear brushed against his arm. When Lopmon glanced over, Shuuji shook his head almost imperceptibly. 

Got it. He was saying too much. Lopmon stopped the explanation.

"Yeah, it sort of looked that way," Takuma admitted, giving Shuuji a sympathetic glance. "Does seem like things are better now."

Ah, so this was a check-in for both of them. Lopmon should've expected as much — even during the first timeline, Takuma seemed to show equal concern for both his peers and their partners. There had been several times he came to him when Shuuji wasn't with him, still willing to talk to him and listen to his worries while he was alone. He had even stepped in to try to help him during Shuuji's really bad days. And yet, even while defending him, he still recognized Shuuji's own distress and had tried to help him even when others might've lost their temper or given up on him.

The attempt didn't really work out in the end, but Lopmon had always admired and appreciated that loyalty.

Agumon looked up at Shuuji's perch. "What are you doing on the table?"

"It's better for talks like this," he explained.

"Easier on the necks when we're talking for a while," Lopmon added. That's the reason Shuuji gave him at the start anyway.

After looking between them, Agumon seemed satisfied with the answer.

"So you've been talking this whole time?" Takuma asked.

"Most of it; mainly about how to keep things from going that far again in the future." It was truthful enough — if the lessons stuck, he shouldn't fumble as badly again. "Speaking of, I apologize for putting you on the spot like that before we left. Didn't realize until we were out of the room that I sort of forced everything onto you."

Takuma waved off the apology. "I don't mind; honestly, I was more surprised than anything. Didn't expect to be chosen outright like that." 

"Really? You were the only option to me." Realizing how mean that could sound towards the others, Lopmon quickly elaborated. "Not that I don't trust the others could do well, but I don't think they're in the right headspace at the moment. Between Minoru's high energy and Saki being so deadset on finding Aoi, you seem to be the most... levelheaded of the ones going. Plus, from what I've heard, you've proven yourself to be capable while we were split up."

"It was more of a group effort back then than the retelling made it sound. We were all doing the work; I was just the one telling the story."

"Even so, you must've made an impression on them; there were no objections when I made the suggestion, 'Leader B.'"

There was another, much less subtle ear tap. Lopmon silenced himself without a look this time.

"I have no idea where that title came from," Takuma said with a sheepish laugh. "But don't worry, the unofficial label's enough for me. I won't be throwing a coup or anything."

"That's good." The possibility of even sharing the role seemed to bother Shuuji for some reason; it would've been much worse if Takuma was actively trying to take it. "Still, as the official leader, I'm curious: what do you think is the most important quality of leadership? I've got my own ideas, but I want to hear what you think."

"What do I think is most important?" Takuma paused to mull over the question. "I think a leader needs to be someone conscientious. Someone who's mindful about how their followers are doing and is willing to seek them out and support them when they're struggling."

"So... kind of like what you're doing right now," Shuuji observed.

Takuma blinked, then rubbed the back of his neck. "This isn't helping my case, is it?"

"Hey, I believe you," Lopmon assured. "It's something you do because you think it's important. And I guess the others must've felt the same to give you that unofficial title." Composing himself like he had done during the lesson, he made another assertion: "I know I've had a rocky start, but I hope I can prove myself as someone who can live up to those ideals."

"I'm sure you will." Takuma began to excuse himself, then stopped. "Actually, before I go, I meant to ask: can you check on the music room at some point while we're gone?"

"For the kid from the story?"

Takuma nodded. "She's been cooped up in there since yesterday. I don't know if she's just shy or doesn't trust us, but she seems nervous about something, even with the spiders gone. Maybe you'll have better luck convincing her everything's fine and she can come out?"

"I can try-" Lopmon stopped himself. The T-word again... "I mean, I'll make sure she leaves the room at some point."

He might've made himself sound too enthusiastic, given Takuma's worried addition of "Don't force her" before the two left the room.

"Coast's clear," Shuuji said after a few seconds. "I'd give that a passable performance, but not without some notes. You were flustered at the start and shared more than you needed to. There was far too much of that 'Leader B' talk — it was starting to sound like you were priming it to be real. Also, would've been better to stick with 'try' for the request at the end."

Lopmon frowned. "But I thought it's either do it or don't when you're the leader..."

"It's more circumstantial than that..." Shuuji sighed. "Something else to cover next time. It sounds like the others are about to leave; if we're not going with them, the least we could do is see them off. "

"Next time? So we'll be doing this again?"

"Gonna have to; between the remaining questions and information, we got a lot more ground to cover. And besides, weren't you complaining about it being overwhelming before?"

"It was a lot..."

"Then we'll call it here, continue next time with any remaining questions, then move onto the new stuff for however long that takes."

"Not as long as this lesson, I'm sure. There shouldn't be as many questions with the new stuff." Lopmon knew what to expect now, and if enough information from the foundation was clarified, surely the stuff that built from it wouldn't be as confusing.

Despite the good news, Shuuji frowned. "Now, see: that's an example of an empty promise. That's not something you can reasonably keep."

...But, he meant it, and Lopmon thought it would be possible to keep...

No, that was the issue: it didn't matter how much Lopmon believed it; Shuuji didn't. That was the true difference between the two: the one being told the promise had to believe it.

So he just had to prove it was true.

"I think I can," he asserted. "I'll show you I mean it and that those words are not empty."

Shuuji almost seemed surprised by the declaration, taking a moment to respond. 

"Then I await your attempt."

Chapter Text

A long, pained growl emerged from the nurse's office.

Shuuji froze. He'd been patrolling through the halls ever since the others left (seemed like a more productive use of his time than failing at attacks or hovering by the other stragglers as they did their tasks), but in his watch for external threats he'd forgotten the possible internal threat. He'd assumed that beast Lopmon had been treating would've been unconscious the entire time, or at least too weak to move. How would it react if it woke up to a human in its face? Would that give it the strength it needed...?

A monster's a monster, even in a vulnerable state. Especially in a vulnerable state!

He doubled back in his route, hurrying to the threshold.

Fortunately, the interior looked just like it did every other time he passed by. No punctured bodies lying limp, no frantic motions trying to settle a snarling beast; just Lopmon kneeling at the bedside as though in vigil.

As Shuuji released the breath his worry had clogged in his throat, Lopmon tensed. Looking back, his startlement melted away to warmth. "Oh, Shuuji! Didn't hear you come in. Did you want to join me?"

Not especially; less so while there was potentially a grouchy beast in the room. "I heard growling. Is that thing awake?"

"The tsunomon? No, he's still sleeping."

Strange; Shuuji was sure he wasn't hearing things... "Does he snore?"

"I haven't heard anything like that..."

As Lopmon said those words, there was another growl. With a guilty expression, he curled inwards in a too-late attempt to muffle the noise.

Ah, so the sound had come from the other monster...

"Have you eaten anything at all since we switched?"

After a few seconds of stammering, Lopmon responded with "Have you?"

Only by technicality if one considered the blood he'd swallowed during his freakout yesterday, but that was beside the point. "Don't turn this back on me; I asked you first!"

Lopmon wouldn't meet his eyes. "I... hadn't really had the chance... but it's okay! I'm not that hungry!'

"You're really trying to claim that? I could hear your stomach from the hallway!" Not that Shuuji was one to talk when it came to missing or skimping meals, but when his own stomach reached that sort of volume he'd at least try to do something about it. Usually.

Sometimes.

The frequency didn't matter!

Shuuji moved in from the doorway. "Go. Get something to eat. He'll still be here when you get back. I'll keep an eye on him until then."

Lopmon hesitated. Shuuji was about to urge him again when he asked, "Is there anything I shouldn't eat while I'm you?"

...Right. He knew he must've forgotten something during "Humanity 101." 

"Anything that's packaged in our rations should be safe." He thought back — what did they have that would be the easiest to access and prepare? "Kanpan's fine straight from the container. The little cracker squares? Should be enough to tide you over for now. Only take one bag; it doesn't look like much, but they're more filling than you'd think."

With instructions received and only a little more hesitation, Lopmon left the room, closing the door behind him and locking Shuuji into his decision.

Not that he INTENDED to leave. He gave his word.

He turned back towards the bed. The door handles may've been far out of reach, but at least the mattress was close to the ground. With a small hop for momentum, he climbed up to view the patient.

The figure in those towels looked identical to what Shuuji remembered. During his first view, between his panic and the awkward way Lopmon had been holding the creature, he was sure he must've overlooked some features. But no, he didn't; that 'tsunomon' really was just a limbless, horned sphere covered in fur. If someone told Shuuji he was actually looking at the severed head of an entirely different monster, he might've believed them.

Well, if not for the obvious signs of life. A decapitated head wouldn't have been breathing so long after severance. Or making expressions in its sleep. Or groaning as it cracked open bright red-

Shuuji may've shrieked, but, if he did, that was just because he fell from the bed. And that only happened because he jumped back in surprise. Not fear. Of course not. No reason to be afraid of that thing, even if the eyes kinda reminded him of that twisted evolution. It was just a color; that meant nothing. It would've been like if that abomination had brown eyes and he suddenly became scared of all the other kids looking at him. They were nothing alike; he's being ridiculous.

And yet, despite knowing his alarm was irrational and inane, it still took a minute for him to compose himself. As the panic left him, a humiliated anger filled its place. Being in Lopmon's body must've been doing something to him, because there was no way he'd be this jumpy and fearful over something so trivial if he was himself.

With the back of his head throbbing and his limbs fueled by inward-facing spite, Shuuji climbed back up to force another look. Slight unease remained as he held the fuzzball's stare, even though there was no reason for it. The eyes weren't even the same shade of red, and although they were trained on him, they were nowhere near as intense. There was also a clear intelligence to them, one that held emotions more complex than primal rage and hunger. 

The main two specifically being confusion and wariness.

...It just occurred to him that he had no idea how to handle the tsunomon while conscious. He had assumed that the beast would've stayed asleep the entire time he was with him.

"Erm... Good morning?"

Untrusting eyes narrowed, sharp as that horn.

"E-Easy now; I'm not your enemy."

"Then who are you?" the creature growled. "Why am I here? What is all this?" He shifted in his cocoon of towels, only to cry out in pain.

"Careful! You're still injured!"

"Noted!" he hissed back, sinking deeper into the makeshift nest. 

Well, first impressions could've been better, but at least communication was possible. Shuuji wasn't sure what he would've done if the tsunomon was the more mindless, animalistic sort of monster.

Addressing his questions might lower hostilities. "Well, I'm a lopmon, and like I said, you've been hurt. Badly. We brought you back to the old school building to try to patch you up."

The tsunomon's face was unreadable, but his fur seemed to smooth slightly. He shifted his attention to the room at large, body shuddering as though from a silent hiccup.

"Can't feel my paws..."

His statement was likely intended as a private mutter, but to a lopmon's ears there was no such thing.

"Are you... supposed to have any?"

There was a sharp inhale and another small twitch. The creature looked down at himself, studying his appearance as thoroughly as an injured disembodied head could. "Not while I'm like this," he begrudgingly admitted at last. "Tsunomon again..."

"I take it this isn't your usual self?"

"Hasn't been in a long time," he confirmed. "To think I'd revert this far..."

"If you don't mind me asking, what did this to you?"

"Some sort of... mad knight. Wasn't one to share names."

That sounded familiar to what Saki and Lopmon had reported... "This knight... it wouldn't have happened to have dark jagged armor, possibly looking like Death itself?"

Tsunomon's eyes flashed. "So you know of her."

So it was that monster... and it was female? Shuuji wouldn't have guessed from the description... "It was impossible not to sense her. She was gone before I could see her myself, but there were witnesses who told me about her."

"Shocked the brute left any survivors," he grumbled. "Shocked I'm a survivor! So much for 'removing the threat.'"

"She felt threatened by you?" How strong was the current-tsunomon's prior-?

A barked laugh, too forceful for his current condition, answered the question before it could be fully thought. "As though there was anything I could've done," he said, wincing. "Even in my previous form, her power far outclassed my own. Wouldn't have gotten so close otherwise; thought I'd be beneath notice, especially with her shuffling around as though dead on her feet." He scoffed. "Was like a switch flipped when she saw me. Started talking as if she knew me, demanding to know where I'd been 'hiding' and why I'd show myself now. Got upset when I told her I didn't know who she was."

"Maybe she was someone you met before in a different form?"

"Couldn't have been..." There was a brief crack of doubt before Tsunomon's face hardened with denial. "Regardless, she'd then started to ask about the whereabouts of some humans."

The room seemed to chill by thirty degrees.

"W-Why'd she be asking you about humans?"

Tsunomon was silent for a moment, studying him. "It appears she's looking for a specific group and assumed I might've run into them. As though I'd recognize them by name even if I HAD encountered any..." Scowling, he continued, "I made it very clear to her that I had no idea what she was talking about, but she insisted I was lying to her. I asked for her proof, and she brought up some completely irrelevant things that she frankly had no business talking about! And then, because I RIGHTLY got upset about it, suddenly SHE thought- AGH!" He cut himself off, the exertion from his rant catching up to him. After a moment to recuperate, he continued at a controlled simmer, "She decided that I 'hadn't learned anything' and was 'too dangerous to be left alone.' What happened after that is obvious..."

It was indeed...

So his response to the knight's questions was what made him a threat in her eyes. Specifically, the questions regarding humans, suggesting that they had opposing viewpoints about them.

According to Saki and Lopmon, the knight had spared them even after they'd been spotted. Maybe she was secretly an ally trying to protect them, like some terrifying guardian angel? Alternatively (and more likely), she wanted all of them alive and together so she could enact some sort of plan against them as a whole.

Either way, if she wanted them alive and considered Tsunomon a threat...

"But, you know... after that knight disposed of me, it was the strangest thing. Right after she left, I recall being found by some humans." Tsunomon's stare bore through him in a way that would've been unnerving regardless of eye color. "Would you happen to know about them? I believe you've referred to a 'we' who had brought me here..."

Shuuji could've lied. From Tsunomon's tone, he really should've. There were plenty of humanoid monsters; maybe he would've been able to convince him that he was so delirious with pain he'd mistaken one for an actual human.

The deception would hold until the moment Lopmon came back. And he will be coming back...

What was the point?

Shuuji sighed, bracing for the worst. "You're not wrong..." 

The temperature seemed to drop even further from his confirmation.

"I knew it." Tsunomon's voice was low. "What a joke. Get beaten half to death for not knowing about the latest batch of humans, only to get captured by that very group and those who would bond with them."

"You weren't captured; they just saw you were hurt and wanted to help."

"Purely from the goodness of their hearts, I'm sure," he sneered, rolling his eyes. "I don't know if you lot are in cahoots with that thing or just sprung on the opportunity she gave, but you can go tell your masters that I'm not going to be submitting to them as readily as some creatures around here."

There were at least three points in that accusation where he might as well have stabbed Shuuji with his horn. "Excuse me!?"

"Oh, sorry. 'Partners.'" Somehow, he'd made that term sound even more derisive. "A slip of the tongue. Not like there's a difference; you're still at a human's beck and call."

"It's not like we choose to be!" Goodness knows if there was an option, Lopmon surely would've selected a more compatible partner. 

"You absolutely do!" Tsunomon snarled. "You could walk out at any time, and yet you choose to remain. And for what? 'Friendship?' 'The power of your bonds?'" He scoffed. "You can call yourself partners all you want, but you're no equals. Just a bunch of weaklings who will be tossed aside the moment the humans have no use for you."

There was bitter certainty in his tone, and vitriolic as they were, Shuuji found he couldn't wholly disagree with his words. He'd always found the claim that their beasts took strength from their bonds to be far-fetched. Even experiencing the connection from the other side, although there was inarguable evidence of a deep biological connection, it still didn't seem all that special. Nothing worthy of the reverence their bonded creatures gave it, at least. And it was true that they could never be equals in their partnership — their creatures' lower forms were too dependent on their human partners, and the moment they evolved the imbalance of power flipped.

But even then...

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, don't I?" His words were a venomous challenge.

"It's not that simple. The connection we have... it's not just master and servant or even a friendship. It's deeper than that, like a physical chain. No matter how we feel about it, it's not something we could break by just walking away from it."

Tsunomon still looked unconvinced.

"It's something you can't really understand without experiencing yourself. If you had a partner, you'd get it."

And now he looked pissed.

"If I had a partner," he repeated, "and he dared to show his face, I would ensure his life would end by my own paws."

It was all bluster — even if he did have a partner (unlikely considering his prior words), in his current state, he was in no position to threaten anyone — but his words were filled with so much hate that Shuuji couldn't respond. If nothing else, he meant what he said.

He was starting to see why the knight had considered him a threat...

This was the monster Lopmon had invested so much time into. The one he forewent food for just to stay by his side. Risking judgement or worse from friends. Putting his all into keeping alive and comfortable.

This.

Lopmon was sensitive — excessively so — especially to those he wished to please. Even Shuuji's most mild criticisms often left him pouting and whimpering like a kicked puppy. With how much effort he had placed into this thing, if he had been here to take the brunt of this hostility, he would've been devastated.

But Lopmon wasn't here. Shuuji was.

And he was far less attached to this hateful, ungrateful little brat.

"Well, then it's a good thing you have neither," he retorted, steeling his features into his own contemptuous look. "Gotta say, you've got quite the nerve for someone who was so close to death a few hours ago." 

"Some of us don't let our will be broken so easily," the monster growled. "Some of us keep our pride."

"Uh-huh." Shuuji crossed his arms. "Tell me: how did that pride of yours help against the knight?"

He glowered. "And you and your bonds would fare so much better against her?"

"Absolutely not!" He was nowhere near that deluded! "But she's not here right now, is she?" Shuuji stepped closer to the bundled beast. "Only creature I see's the one that's too hurt to move. But hardly seems fair to attack someone like that."

"Don't let that stop you. It's the only chance someone like you would have against me."

Bold words. It was easy to say that sort of thing when convinced nothing would come of it. A dark thought crept out from the shadows of his mind, urging him to make the monster think otherwise. It didn't have to be anything truly violent, just a showy display to remind him of the position he's in and knock some respect into him.

...No. As horrible as this twerp was, he wasn't about to start threatening someone who's bedridden.

Shooting the rest of his scorn towards the monster through a final glare instead, Shuuji turned and jumped from the bed. As he moved away, he could hear footsteps from the hallway. Good; he'll be free from the nuisance soon.

"If you were smart, you would've taken the offer."

Shuuji sighed through his nose. He just needed to make a final jab...

"There will be a human here shortly," he said, refusing to dignify the comment with a look. "One who's been working nonstop to try to save your sorry hide. I'm not about to ruin his work. Not saying you need to thank him or anything, but I trust you're capable of the bare minimum of basic civility? Things aren't going to end well if you turn him against you." 

"Is that a threat?"

"I consider it a warning. Out of everyone here, he's the only one who's been a hundred percent in your corner since the beginning. With your attitude, I don't see you making a lot of friends out here. If I were you, I'd do all I could to keep the few I could get. Then again, I'm just some bonded weakling, so what do I know?"

Shuuji could feel the monster's glare on him, but he was beyond the point of caring. He said his piece and he fulfilled his duties. Lopmon was at the door and it was opening. He was OUT OF THERE-

-and crashing right into his own legs.

Lopmon literally tripped over himself with an alarmed shout. He caught himself on the doorframe. Shuuji caught himself on the floor.

Before he could stand again, Lopmon was already beside him. "I'm so sorry! You alright?"

“I'm fine.” Nothing hurt but his pride, but that had been getting pummeled for a while now. “The tsunomon's up by the way." 

"He is!?" If Lopmon's pitch didn't make Shuuji cringe, the amount of joy and excitement both felt and heard alongside it would've. The wrongness of hearing his voice like that aside, he knew the monster didn't deserve any of it.

"Very much so. Fair warning, he's got an attitude."

"Really?" Lopmon's expression turned pensive. “Maybe he's still hurting? Or maybe he's hungry too?" He gave the bag in his hand a small shake, adding, "I could share some of these with him; maybe that'll cheer him up.”

"Not impossible," Shuuji relented. He didn't consider it probable himself, but it could be true that the monster was acting worse than usual due to his injuries or other surrounding circumstances. Then again, with how he'd been talking, Shuuji would just as much expect him to start accusing Lopmon of trying to poison him. At the very least, he doubted there would be any physical danger — didn't seem like he'd be moving anytime soon — but emotional wounds were still possible... "Try not to take it personally if he acts nasty."

Lopmon was already finishing several biscuits out of the bag, seemingly convinced of his hunger theory. However, instead of taking them into the room, he bent down to place them in Shuuji's paws. “Here, for watching him while I was gone.” With a knowing smile, he added, “And because I know you haven't eaten anything yet either.”

"I... I don't-"

"Don't worry, they're safe for me too. I tried them before and nothing bad happened. They're not very flavorful, but should still be okay." With that ringing endorsement, he went inside the room.

Shuuji wanted to decline them — the human food in their reserves should be saved for humans. Monsters could forage for their own. This was their world; there were more things out here safe for their consumption.

But his own hunger was making itself known now that he had something edible in front of him. And it wasn't like he could make Lopmon take them back, especially as he tried to persuade the brat in the other room to eat some as well (really would make him think they were poisoned...). And he couldn't just put them back in their stockpile without a container.

There was also the matter that he'd already devoured the first two while debating whether he should and was already well on his way through the next. 

He almost choked when he realized it. Did this body have no self-restraint at all? It really put the "monster" in "monstrous appetite!"

Regaining his senses, he could process the taste. Lopmon really considered this to be bland? The amount of sesame was far more pronounced than he would've expected from the snack, although thankfully not to the point of being overwhelming. Either Lopmon had given him some extra spiced squares or taste was yet another amplified sense for monsters.

...Still, sharper taste aside, he could agree with Lopmon's assessment: they were certainly okay. Seeing as he had no other choice, he supposed he could finish them off...

Chapter Text

Shuuji had only just returned to his patrol when a clatter of metal echoed down the stairwell. The sound was closely followed by the just-as-pleasant noise of insectoid screeching.

That... probably warranted investigation...

With only slight resignation, he took a detour up the stairs to check on Kunemon and whatever it was he had just knocked over.

Cans, as it turned out. The room was full of cans stacked into a variety of low-to-the-ground structures, making the interior look like a cross between a tiny metropolis and an obstacle course.

In the middle of it all was Kunemon, lying prone among a cluster of fallen cans like a kaiju resting in its wreckage.

Ryo waded through the miniature city until he was at the insect's side. "Good effort," he said, helping to dig him out from the rubble. "Your stinger got you again. You were holding it too high when going under that arch."

Kunemon huffed, lurching to his feet and, in the process, backing into a section of the arch that hadn't yet fallen. As that too fell to the ground, he groaned.

"You need to keep track of what's going on back there," Ryo instructed. "It's both your blind spot and least sensitive part."

"KEW kew kewkew!" Kunemon snapped. His partner seemed unbothered, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"You're not wrong, but even in comparison with the rest." He moved his arms into a wide shrug, bumping his wrist into a tower as he did. The tower dominoed into another, forcing Shuuji to cover his ears as another horrible metallic cacophony came from their collapse.

"Whoops! Guess I need to watch my movements too."

Kunemon inclined his head, kewing dubiously.

"Dunno what you're talking about," Ryo smirked, extending an arm to his partner. Kunemon practically collapsed onto it, hissing like a deflating balloon.

"You'll get it," he assured, running a hand down the limp bug's back as he carried him to an empty corner of the room. "Try doing a couple more circles as I rebuild. While you do, pay attention to how it moves with you. And remember," he added with a wave of his fingers, "calm tide, not crashing waves."

Despite grumbling, Kunemon began making circles as Ryo returned to the fallen cans. He plodded at a snail's pace, head twisting to watch every footfall as he moved one leg at a time. Front to back; left to right.

It's like watching the centipede work through his dilemma in real time...

"He prefers 'Kunemon,' thanks."

Shuuji jolted, looking to see Ryo staring back at him with a stern expression. Had he made that observation out loud?

"N-No, I wasn't-! That wasn't an insult! It's what you call it when you put too much thought into something that should come naturally, to the point where you can't do it right. Like if a centipede had to think about what each one of its hundred legs is doing while walking..." 

"Oh." His expression softened. As he looked towards the still-pacing Kunemon, it grew amused. "Putting it that way, I guess it might be a little fitting. At least you've only got the six to deal with. Can you imagine a hundred of them?

Kunemon shivered at the thought, stopping his circling to look over and hiss.

"Fair enough!" Ryo chuckled at the reaction, sobering as he turned back to Shuuji with an apologetic look. "Guess I'm a bit sensitive to that sort of thing. Lopmon, right? It feels like every time we speak I'm putting a worse foot forward."

"Well, you've only got the two, so... can't get any worse?"

That got a sputtered laugh from him. "At least there's that!"

It was refreshing to see Ryo so focused and, dare he say, content. It was such a heavy contrast to how he'd been a short lifetime ago. Shuuji would be the first to admit that he couldn't stand the boy's typical gruff and irreverent behavior, but he would've taken that any day of the week over the broken shell of a person he had become during his final days. At best, he had been nearly unresponsive, and, at worst, he'd lost all sense of reality, jumping to wild conclusions and seeing enemies as loved ones. To the point of joyously racing towards his death with open arms, greeting his killer as his mother.

Shuuji could only speculate on Ryo's home life, but from the amount of adoration he had in his voice while running to "her," he could assume they were very close...

He'd been anguishing over finding the words to explain why her son would never be coming home again. He never did find the right words to say. As if there was such a thing as a "right way" to tell a parent that they've outlived their child.

"So, what brings you up here?" the no-longer-dead boy asked, pulling Shuuji from his somber thoughts.

"Mostly the crashing. I wanted to make sure everyone's alright."

There was a slight wince as Ryo stacked another can. "Right, that must've been really loud for you. Maybe we should've closed the door..."

Shuuji turned towards the rest of the city of cans, trying to ignore the creeping feeling caused by those pitying words. It felt wrong coming from Ryo. "What is all of this anyway?"

"Remember that 'something' we mentioned back at the cafeteria?" Ryo moved to the fallen arch. "Kunemon's been having some trouble keeping up with everyone, so I've been making some courses for him to train his agility and spatial awareness."

"How's that been going?"

"Kew." Kunemon slumped.

"It's going," Ryo said. "He's getting better, but it's a slow process. I think he's getting frustrated that it's taking so long." He reached for a final pair of cans, but only one was in reach. "Hey, can you pass me that one that rolled next to you?"

"Well, progress is progress, even if slow." Finding the can that Ryo indicated near the door, Shuuji moved to retrieve it. The label identified it as a vegetable soup; full, from the weight of it. "Did you take these from our rations?"

"Don't worry; we'll put them back when we're done."

That wasn't the issue! Well, not the main one at least! "If the cans get damaged, it could spoil what's inside; we can't afford to be wasteful with them!"

Kunemon groaned a lengthy kew. Ryo sent a small glance towards him, but only for a moment. "Jeez, you sound just like your partner. It's fine; I'm not building high enough to dent 'em and, for as much as it's been knocking things over, Kunemon's stinger can't pierce metal. Nothing we're doing's going to contaminate anything."

Shuuji checked over the soup can. It was only one example of who-knows-how-many, but it did seem undamaged. And what would he really accomplish in refusing to give it back? Preventing the completion of a single structure?

Relenting, he handed it over to Ryo to finish his construction.

After adding the final two to the arch, Ryo backed away. "Alright, that should be it. Kunemon, ready for another go?"

"Kew."

"That's the spirit!"

It seemed like the optimal time to leave, what with the duo about to start their work again. Wishing them well, Shuuji turned to leave the living ghosts... to their business...

...

"Something troubling you?"

Shuuji had stopped moving, and it appeared Ryo had noticed.

Tomorrow had been the deathday of his previous self. Although he was nowhere near as broken as he had been back then, would that be enough? What if he still fell for the same tricks and died this time as well?

No, that wasn't happening; Shuuji refused to allow it. He failed to keep everyone alive the first time, but this time nobody was going to die under his watch. 

But how to go about it? The best way to prepare would be to warn him about that possible fate in advance, but should he really tell him flat-out about his potential death? What if he took it the wrong way and lashed out? He did deck him the last time they spoke. Granted, that was back when his crumbling sanity had been down to its final grains, and, in hindsight, Shuuji really could've handled the situation better. He was also objectively less punchable as a lopmon; at this size, he'd be more... puntable? Not that a kick would be any less painful than a punch, but even then, getting struck by a human shouldn't be any worse than those hits he took from the gazimon and Fangmon (although the thought did leave him with an odd pit in his stomach). 

Dammit, now wasn't the time for cowardice! He could handle a little pain if that's the price for ultimately saving a life.

Of course, that was assuming that he'd actually listen and believe the warning. Ryo barely listened to anyone, even (especially) authority figures. What chance did he have to get through to him like this? His attempt to explain would probably be brushed aside, if not outright ignored...

"Lopmon? Hey...?"

"Kew kew?"

"I don't know, sure seems like it."

...He did listen to Kunemon...

That insectoid monster was incapable of speech outside of chittery kews, but he was still capable of understanding Japanese and, in turn, could be understood by a select few in their group. Ryo, crucially, seemed to be one of them. Considering how freely he carried the oversized caterpillar around, there must've been a decent level of trust between them. Perhaps he could go to Kunemon with the warning instead. He should know the best way to pass on the information to his partner, and, even if he didn't believe him, it would at least set the bug on high alert to watch for and prevent the events from happening.

As Shuuji made up his mind, there was a sharp snapping in his ear. Flinching, he whirled back to face a crouching Ryo as he withdrew his hand. Kunemon was perched on his shoulders, observing him closely despite a lack of eyes.

"You zoned out for a minute there. Everything alright?"

"Actually... could I borrow Kunemon for a bit?"

"What for?"

"I need to talk to him about something."

Both bug and boy seemed surprised.

"Kew?" Kunemon cocked his head. "Kew kew?"

"I... didn't realize you could understand him." Ryo seemed oddly concerned by the idea.

"I don't," Shuuji admitted. "I just need to tell him something. And only him."

"Creature ears only?" Ryo's expression grew amused. "I sure hope this isn't a meeting to badmouth us humans behind our backs."

Kunemon gave him a look. "Kew!?"

"Of course not; I'm only teasing." He shifted his shoulders, turning his attention back to Shuuji. "You know Kunemon's going to be filling me in on whatever this is about later, right? Could save everyone some time if we talk about it here and now while we're all together."

"Sorry, this really needs to be just the two of us. It's fine if he wants to tell you about it after, but right now..."

"...I get it." Shuuji thought he saw a flash of hurt on Ryo's face, but if it was there, it was gone as he looked up towards Kunemon. "You good on your own for a bit?"

There was noticeable hesitation, but Kunemon nodded with a small trill. With a fond look, his partner helped him dismount.

"Well, have a nice talk; I'll make some more adjustments to the course while you're out. Don't do anything I wouldn't."

It didn't take long to find a place to talk — Shuuji spotted a semi-opened door further down the hall just moments after leaving the room. However, the walk to that room took far longer than it needed to thanks to Kunemon's one-leg-at-a-time centipeding. He was moving a little faster than he had in the room, although it was a change from a snail's pace to a turtle's. Shuuji was tempted to just start shoving him the rest of the way, but thought better of it. Doing that would probably just tick him off, and he needed Kunemon to be receptive to his words. Best to avoid doing anything that would make him unwilling to listen.

Half an eternity later, they made it inside.

Kunemon trilled expectantly as Shuuji took a breath to calm his nerves. It was too late for any second thoughts; time to reveal the secrets of the future.

"I wanted to talk to you about your partner."

Immediately, Kunemon's antennae flicked back with a huff, almost killing Shuuji's faith in the plan outright. He thought they had a good relationship; what was with the sudden agitation?

"Do you... not actually like him?"

The question seemed to annoy him more. "Kew KEW kekewkew!" he spat, turning away with an additional, much harsher "Kew!"

"Wait!" How was this already falling apart!? "You really need to hear this! Ryo's life is at stake!"

Kunemon went stock-still. Slowly, his head turned back towards him.

Shuuji took a moment before starting again. With Kunemon seeming as easy to provoke as his partner, he needed to choose his words more carefully. "Around this time tomorrow, we're going to be heading out somewhere. All of us. During that outing, your partner is going to be in danger."

The rest of Kunemon's body turned. He trilled weakly, urging him to continue.

"I'm not saying this as a threat. It's more... I had this premonition. Or a vision? We were all on this cliff, and the humans had some big revelation. He... didn't take it well at all and ended up running into the enemy's hands. He was able to get away from them, but then he fell for the fog's illusions and... didn't make it."

"Kew...? Kekew...?" His voice sounded faint.

"It's possible I'm worrying over nothing. I mean, he seems to be doing really well right now; much better than be- than he had been in that vision. But it really bothered me so I still wanted to warn you to keep an eye out and do anything you can to keep him safe."

He made an odd gurgling noise.

"I... guess it is kinda pointless to ask you to keep him safe. I mean, you're partners, so of course you would. But especially tomorrow: don't let him out of your sight."

There were no further noises; Kunemon only stared.

"That's all I had to say," Shuuji finished. "We can head back now, if you want."

Turning away seemed to be the trigger Kunemon needed to speak.

"'Kekew kew-!?' Keeew! Kew, KEW!"

Shuuji looked back at the suddenly frantic insect just in time to see Kunemon lunging forward with far more speed than he had shown in the hallway. He leapt aside, leaving him to skid past.

"Hey! Calm down!"

"Kew kew!?" he demanded, poised like a snake about to strike. "KEW!?"

"I-I don't know what you're asking-!"

"Kewk-! Kew kekew!? KEW!?" Kunemon was getting louder, as though a higher volume would somehow make Shuuji understand what he was asking. ...Or accusing?

"I told you, it was just a vision! I have no control over what might or might not happen! I was just trying to warn you what I rememb- what I FORESAW!"

"Kew KEW kekew! KEW!?"

It was official: the attempt to warn him had fallen apart. At this point, it might've been better to go to Ryo directly. Couldn't get much worse, and he might be able to calm down the crazed insect. Would he be able to make it to him before-?

Kunemon noticed he was eyeing the door.

Screw it.

Shuuji made a run for it.

"KEW!" Kunemon launched after him. Shuuji dodged aside, leaving the insect to crash into the door. Unfortunately, he had been moving at just the right force and angle to finish sliding it shut.

Trapping them both inside the room.

For a moment, it felt as though everything had frozen. Even Kunemon seemed to recognize the weight of what had just happened, staring at the door in shock.

And then the volcano of frustration erupted.

"Oh, so NOW you stop overthinking your feet!" Shuuji snapped, voice cracking. 

Kunemon whirled back towards him, hissing accusatively as though blaming him for everything.

"Dammit, I'm not the bad guy here!" he shouted back, trying to drown out the irritating voice in his head saying otherwise. 

After all, Ryo never would've died if you were actually a decent leader, and then you never would've needed to have this discussion and never would've gotten trapped.

"I know! I screwed up! But that's why I wanted to do something about it now! I swore I'd be getting everyone out of here safely; is that such an impossible want!?"

Kunemon seemed startled by his outburst, antennae flicking from pinned rage to a perked intrigue. He approached slowly, studying him in that eyeless way.

"Kew..." His sounds were soft and slow now, almost disbelieving. "Kewy? Kew kewy?"

His kews caused the emotional lava to freeze over as fast as it erupted. Shuuji had a pretty good idea what he was asking...

"Yeah. You've got me." If he realized it, there wasn't much good denial would do now.

"Kew kew..." Kunemon shook his head, clearly stunned. Antennae flicking back, the motion grew more agitated, "Kew kew kew... Kew KEW! KEW!"

"I'm not exactly thrilled by all this either!" Shuuji rubbed at his temples. Well, if anyone had to find out, at least it was the one that most of the others were unable to understand. "Alright, so, needless to say, this part? Doesn't get back to Ryo. Understood?"

"Kew." Nothing about the sound indicated it was a yes or a no. 

"I'm serious. The last thing he-"

"Kew."

"-or anyone else needs to know is that Lopmon and I were switched around. He's been doing a passable job at blending in, but I'm sure it's obvious he's struggling. It would be so much worse if everyone knew! And there's no way they'd trust him if they knew he was one of you creatures. Erm... no offense."

Kunemon snorted. Shuuji chose to interpret that as an agreement.

With that settled, he approached the now-closed door. He tried sliding his claws into the side, but even if he could slip the tips between the door and the frame, he couldn't exert enough force through them to push it open again.

"Sure shut us up tight in here," he grumbled. "You think if we shout loud enough we can get Ryo's-"

"Kew."

"-attention?" Shuuji frowned. "He's, what-"

"Kew!"

"-three rooms down? Or was he in-"

"KEW!"

"Would you stop kewing until I've finished speaking!?"  

“Kew! Kew!” Kunemon’s face scrunched in concentration. “Kew! Kewk! Kek! Kak! Kee! KEE!” He tapped at his thorax, continuing to kee.

Shuuji almost had to smile at the audacity. Almost. "Alright, that's on me for leaving such an obvious loophole. But, you know, changing your kews to kees doesn't make them any easier to understand..."

Kunemon went still and quiet, then threw his head back with a screech. Shuuji put a greater distance between himself and the irate insect. It was clear that he wanted to communicate something to him — something too important for him to be polite about — but there's only so much that could be expressed through his monosyllabic chittering. 

...He was missing something.

Shuuji began to repeat himself: "Do you think if we shout loud enough we can get Ryo's-"

"Kee!"

He paused. That was the same spot as before... "You know," he started slowly, "your partner-"

"Kee!"

"...Ryo..."

"Keeee..." The trill was almost goading.

It was deliberate. Always after he referenced his partner, either by name or not. Between the placement of his interjections and the speed at which he made them, it was almost like a... correction?

Kee... Kee...

...Me?

Cold lightning shot through Shuuji's body. No. No, no, that was impossible! There was no way Ryo could've switched as well! It was that monster's fault that he and Lopmon had swapped places, and Ryo was long dead before that twisted evolution appeared! It couldn't have cursed him too! Shuuji shouldn't even be considering the possibility!

And yet...

Shuuji looked the insect over again. Maybe it was just because he was entertaining the idea, but something about his exasperation did seem familiar. Even bare of the familiar facial features, it almost reminded Shuuji of those looks Ryo would give him every time he had to remind him about what behavior was appropriate for the trip. It was the irritating kind of look that communicated that it was a pointless waste of time for everyone involved because they both knew nothing was going to change no matter how many times Shuuji would take him aside-

He frowned, watching the kunemon closely. "Ryo," he tested once more.

"Kee! KEE!" He gave an urgent, deliberate nod, upper legs curling inward. Shuuji could almost imagine the boy in his place, both hands to his chest as he screamed in desperation.

"Yes! YES! It's me!"

"You... are Ryo?"

“KEE! KeekeeKEEEE!”

Shuuji had never seen a more excited insect.

Chapter Text

Ryo had known something was wrong the instant he woke up on the classroom floor.

For one thing, although it felt as though he'd just snapped awake from a nightmare, he couldn't pinpoint a moment where he "woke up." One minute he had been reaching for his mom, the next she'd exploded into hundreds of dark, grasping hands reaching back for him. They'd grabbed tight and pulled him close, squeezing and twisting and breaking him down no matter how much he screamed and tried to pull away.

And then, that was it. The world... changed. All of a sudden, the pain was gone, and the foggy marshlands had been replaced with the cobweb-coated walls of that same damn classroom in that same damn fake school.

...Actually, was it the same? Something about the room seemed off. Everything looked grainy and smeared in an almost dreamlike haze. And he could've sworn all the webs had disappeared with those spider monsters-

Wait, did that mean there were more of them in the building? What was it with this world and spiders!? First there were those big, creepy, hairy ones that tried to eat Aoi, and then there was that deceptive witchy one that had hid behind a motherly mask!

Ugh, he's so sick of this! Fake moms, fake schools... the only thing real in this twisted world was the danger! At this point, Ryo wouldn't have been shocked if it turned out all the others were fakes as well — a buncha monsters wearing human skins and trying to get him to drop his guard so they could steal his too! Would explain why they were so quick to become all buddy-buddy with those other ones...

He tried to stand up.

He couldn't.

A bolt of panic crashed in his gut. His lower body, down where his legs should've been, had shifted from his attempt, but his legs themselves weren't responding.

In desperation, he tried to kick out, just to prove they were still there. The act caused SOMETHING to move, thumping heavily behind him.

A SINGULAR thing.

His first thought was of the spiders; not only did they come back and leave their webs everywhere, they also grabbed him and wrapped him up in some of them! But the more he thrashed and wriggled around what should've been his legs, the less certain he was. He couldn't move either leg independently if he tried, or even feel a separation between the two. It was as though they were so tightly wrapped that they moved as a single unit. Or had been sewn together. Or got merged into some giant... not even a leg; more a solid tube of meat, or a snake tail, or-

How did the idea that the spiders got to him suddenly become the most preferable explanation!?

He tried to push himself up, to at the very least look back and confirm the damage, but his arms weren't cooperating either. He... actually couldn't feel them at all, unlike with his legs (or leg?), where he knew there was at least something there. At most, he could feel his fingers twitch... well, some of them. They were stuck to his sides, as though the rest of his hands had been merged to his ribs, and what he was able to move felt stiff. He also couldn't feel anything with them aside from the firmness of the ground. If he hadn't become far too familiar with this classroom (or if he hadn't had his chin stuck against the ground), he wouldn't have been able to tell what the flooring was made of.

What the hell happened to him? Nothing was moving the way they should, and anything he COULD move was all shuffled around and squished together and wrong, wrong, WRONG!

An anxious keening hummed in his throat like a cicadian whine. Was this the work of the spiders? The demon hands? What did they DO to him!?

As if he wasn't already freaking out, it was at that moment that the classroom door ripped open. None of the usual suspects came bursting in, but what did still killed his whimpers.

That was him, wasn't it!? Even through the haze, that thing looked just like him!

Breathing heavily, the copy shut the door tight. After a few seconds of panting, it sank to the floor, staring at its hands before burying its face in them.

While Ryo watched it, petrified, an awful thought wormed its way into his head.

Had he been breathing?

Suddenly hyperaware of what should've been unconscious acts, Ryo tried to take a manual breath.

He couldn't.

Panicking, he began gasping for air like a dying fish as though that would make up for lost time. Nothing felt any different.

The crushing realization hit him all at once, choking his next "breath" into a hysterical sob. He... He's dead! Like, actually dead this time! That's why he couldn't breathe and seemingly didn't need to! Those hands had killed him and mangled his remains so thoroughly that even in this afterlife or after-afterlife or whatever this was his ghost had been compressed and damaged beyond recognition or function! And then something else had found what was left of his body and restored it enough to become its shell to possess and puppet around. But it couldn't leave loose ends, so it came here to get him, and now it was in the same room as him and it was staring right at him-!

With nothing else he could do, he screamed. And of course that also sounded wrong — far too high and screechy and... inhuman. Which made sense because he wasn't human anymore; he was nothing but a disembodied spirit because he's dead-!

A long hiss layered under his screeching, continuing even after he paused a moment to listen. It seemed to be coming from his possessed body, as though it was releasing a final breath. Or... shushing him?

"S'okay," it slurred before freezing, blinking in surprise as though it had never heard its voice before. Given what Ryo had managed to piece together, it very well might not've. "It. Is. Okay," it tried again with more deliberate enunciation. "I'm not here. To hurt you. I promise."

Lies; all of it lies. This whole scene playing out before him was as far from "okay" as anything could ever be. As that thing lurched to its feet and began to lumber towards him, it was somehow pushed even further away than that.

Whatever Ryo was able to move scrabbled at the wood below, trying in vain to claw him away from the approaching figure. He had to get out of there; he couldn't move; IT'S GETTING CLOSER-!

<Stay away from me!> he tried to shout, but the words wouldn't form right in his mouth. Instead, they all came out in a single incoherent squeal.

The bodysnatcher stopped in place, tilting its head as though puzzled by his reaction. Then, slowly, it lowered itself to the ground.

Yes, because it was the STANDING that was the problem! Not the part where Ryo was stuck holding a staring contest with his reanimated corpse while whatever was inside it debated what to do with him. One he'd already won five times over without needing to blink once.

...Was he not even capable of BLINKING-!?

"You're panicking," the thing observed, as though that wasn't blindingly obvious. "Please, try to calm down. You can trust me."

Easy for it to say! It wasn't the one immobilized in front of their possessed husk!

"I know all of this is... incredibly freaky and surreal-" That was an understatement and a half! "-but I know we can work this out."

<What's there to work out!? I'm dead! I'm dead, and something stole my body, and it's here to snuff out what's left of me!>

The panicked warbling his words turned into sounded just as unintelligible as his first attempt, and yet the thing still seemed to understand.

"You've got it wrong; that's not why I'm here. I'd never do anything to hurt you. Never ever."

Something about its words sounded genuine, but Ryo had been burnt multiple times before, and all by much more appealing flames.

When he didn't drop his guard, his former face fell. "Why...? Why won't you believe me? Ryo, please..."

Its words cut deep with blades of sorrow, carrying a heartbreak he could feel in his own chest. It wanted so badly for him to believe its words. But why would this bodysnatcher be any less dangerous than anything else he'd seen out here, especially when it seemed to be able to identify him by name, even while his soul was so mangled?

<What do you want?>

"Right now, I just want you to breathe."

<I... I can't! I'm dead, I-!>

"You can. You are." It pushed onto its hands and knees, beginning to crawl towards him. "I can show you, if you'd let me?"

<S-Stop! Don't come any closer!>

It paused once more, and another wave of heartache swept through him. "Ryo..."

<Stop it, STOP IT! Just go away!>

"I can't leave you like this..." It sat down, staring with those fake sad eyes. "Tell you what: I'll stay right here. I'm just going to reach out my hand in a straight line, okay?"

As it said, it started to extend a hand towards him. Ryo cringed away as much as he could manage, but, as promised, it didn't change course to touch him. Instead, it hovered a little above his head.

Although he still couldn't breathe, Ryo could pick up a familiar scent. It was something nostalgic and comforting that brought him home. He was six again, standing at his mommy's bedside after a nightmare. She ran a hand through his hair, reassuring him that all those scary things had just been in his imagination. 

If only that were true...

"See? No danger. You're okay."

Ryo shivered, the male voice that definitely wasn't his mom's returning him to reality. There was still a hand on his head, but it was attached to his former body, which was much closer to him than it had been before.

<You promised you'd stay away!>

"I didn't move," the bodysnatcher said with a soft smile. "You came to me."

It had to be more lies; Ryo hadn't been able to move more than a couple of squirmed centimeters. And yet, it seemed like he was closer to the middle of the room than before, and although he wouldn't call his current position "standing up," his line of sight seemed higher than it had been. Barely — he was still very much dwarfed by his former body. 

Taking advantage of his confusion, said body moved its hand down. "Here and here," it murmured, tracing circles around what should've been his shoulder blades. "I want you to focus on what you can feel at those spots."

...Now that it was pointed out, Ryo could feel something happening there. It was a strange bubbling feeling... or blinking? Like something was opening and closing at a rhythmic pace.

<The hell...?>

The smile grew. "Weird, huh?"

<ALL OF THIS is weird!>

"You're not wrong," it chuckled, rubbing a finger back and forth across his upper back. The hand was unusually warm for a corpse...

"Feeling better?" it asked after some time. 

<No...>

"But you aren't panicking anymore?"

<...No. Too weirded out to panic.>

It snorted. "Whatever helps."

After a few moments of silence, Ryo bit the bullet. <What's going on? What happened to me?>

"I wish I could tell you..." It frowned, tilting its head back. "I'm just as confused by all of this as you. One minute I was watching my life crumbling before my eyes; the next, well, I was living yours. Thought it was some dying hallucination at first, but it just... continued. Came here to try to find something familiar." With a weak chuckle, it looked back down at him. "Guess I can't say I failed in that."

<Then you're... also dead?>

"...Yeah, I... We both died."

The words almost shook Ryo as hard as his initial realization. As much as he'd been screaming it before, it was another thing altogether to hear someone else confirm it so matter-of-factually.

<Shit...>

"Yeah..." The hand on his back gave him a small squeeze. 

This was really it then? He was stuck in this messed-up otherworld forever as some mutilated spirit, under the watch of some other dead guy that looked more like himself than he did right now?

<Sure is some screwed-up afterlife...>

The bodysnatcher took a moment before responding. "I don't think it is. The afterlife, I mean; I agree, all of this is extremely screwed-up. But it all feels... real. Too real, you know? I... this body feels alive, and you do too."

<But we died!> Ryo reiterated. <Once you're dead, that's it; no coming back! And even if there was a way to undo it, it's not like anyone would've bothered doing it for me.>

"They would've," it softly refuted. "You have no idea how devastated the others were when you left them."

<Sure...> No point arguing; it wasn't like that spirit had been there anyway.

"I think we came back," it said after some thought. "Not just to life, but to a time before. Think about it: the webs are back, we're meeting here; nobody else's around... It's just like before, back when you first arrived. Almost like we were brought back in time for another chance, but something went wrong."

<I'd say! If that's true, then somehow this "time warp" made you me and left me as some kind of... meat log!>

"Wow." With a flat expression, the bodysnatcher prodded at his forehead. "As the one who used to be that 'meat log,' I'll try not to be offended."

<What do you mean?>

"What do you mean what do I mean? Did you really not figure it out?"

<Figure what out?> The distress that had grown dormant was starting to bubble once again.

The sarcastic look turned to confusion, then concern. "Oh boy, you really don't know..." It drew back, rubbing the nape of its neck. "Okay, so, don't freak out."

<We are far, FAR past that point!>

"Right..." It grimaced. "Well then... remember before when you were yelling about me stealing your body?" 

<Hard to forget with it right in front of me!>

"And have you taken a look at yourself since waking up?"

<I hadn't been able to lift my head until... whatever that was that you did!>

"Of course..." It clasped its hands. "Then I'd recommend you do that, with the knowledge that this seems to be a... mutual thievery?"

<'Mutual...?'>  With a sinking feeling, Ryo looked down at himself and nearly passed out on the spot.

Those weren't fingers; not even melted, mutated ones. Those were legs. Insect legs. He looked over his shoulder to see a similarly buggy form stretch behind him, colored like a hornet. Colored like...

<Kune...mon...?>

The bodysnatcher, who was apparently Kunemon, smiled weakly. "Got to say, this isn't at all how I imagined our first real talk would go. Although I guess we should count ourselves lucky we were still able to have a first talk."

Ryo could only stare. It made no sense, and yet it explained so much of the wrongness he'd felt since coming to on the ground. Maybe too much.

...Definitely too much.

The grainy world grew even more blurred as he pitched forward. His voice... Kunemon's voice... a voice called his name, but it sounded as faint as he felt. His last thoughts before blacking out were a silent prayer that everything would be back to normal when he woke up again.

Things hadn't returned to normal.

Even now, almost a full day later, the nightmare refused to end. Not only that, but it had spread. Ryo was no longer the only kid trapped as a beast in this strange echo of the past.

And that left him feeling... conflicted.

On one hand, there was relief. Finally, someone else who could relate to the struggle! Although he'd been going through all of this with Kunemon, the former bug had adapted to his own change enviously fast, as though turning human was just another evolution to him. As patient and supportive as he had been in helping Ryo figure out how to function as his former self, he couldn't truly understand the horror and difficulty it had been for him to simply exist in such an alien body the way an actual human would've.

On the other hand, out of all people he could've been sharing this nightmare with, did it really have to be with HIM?

"You're... Ryo," the lopmon that was actually Shuuji repeated. "But that means... No, it can't be..."

Ryo wanted to scream. Again. Wasn't this guy supposed to be some top marks student? How was he this bad at adding two plus two!?

<How many times do I have to say it!?>

Shuuji drew back, paws raised defensively. "I know, I know. 'It's me.' But it shouldn't be possible; it doesn't make any sense."

<Says the rabbit insisting he was also a human...>

He didn't respond, not that Ryo expected him to. Even if Shuuji was capable of translating kunemon noises (and, given how much effort it took for him to get across something as simple as "I'm Ryo," that obviously wasn't the case), he had already touched down in his own little world, muttering to himself about monsters and curses.

With a sigh, Ryo stood by while his senior talked himself through his thoughts. He supposed it could've been worse. As much of a hardass as their leader was, he at least had the sense to treat their situation with the thought and seriousness it deserved. He wasn't the sort of person to play it off as some fun and exciting experience or try to put some sort of positive spin on things and tell him it's not all that bad.

There was no "bright side" to being turned into a voiceless worm.

"-suppose it could've had an effect after death, but why him when there were so many closer targets? He couldn't have formed that deep a grudge against him in such a short amount of time. Maybe... was that monster unrelated to the switch all along? But then, what else could've caused it? There has to be some sort of connection..." Shuuji looked up from his pondering. "We need to regroup and compare notes. If we can figure out what caused this, we might be able to find a reverse."

<NOW you're talking sense!> The sooner Ryo was out of this buggy body, the better!

"Of course," he continued, looking back at the classroom door, "before we do any of that, we first need to get out of this room. And seeing as someone closed off the way we came in and neither of us have the strength or means to open it again, we'll need to find another way."

Ryo scowled at the not-so-subtle jab. <Well, maybe if someone had just explained how he knew all that past-future stuff sooner instead of trying to run away...!> Granted, his demands for an explanation had likely spooked Shuuji like the bunny he currently was, but how was Ryo supposed to have stayed calm after all of that?

"Hey, Ryo, remember how you're supposed to DIE tomorrow? Let me remind you of all those things that led up to that moment that I shouldn't know anything about. Okay, bye~"

Tends to freak a guy out...

"Bugs can climb walls, right?" Shuuji asked, eyeing the windows along the far wall. "If we can get a window open, think you can climb down and get some help?"

<...I can barely walk on the floor. Are you really asking me to try on a wall?>

"I'm guessing that's a 'no.'"

Ryo scoffed, shaking his head in confirmation. At least he was capable of figuring that out.

Frowning, Shuuji turned to survey the rest of the room. "Every room in the school should have some form of ventilation. If Takuma's story was accurate, the crawlspace within should have more than enough room for the both of us... Aha!" He pointed up to a section of the ceiling that looked slightly irregular. "Of course, there's still the problem of getting up to it."

<Rabbits can jump, right? Why don't you hop on up there.>

The comment was sarcastic and, even if it wasn't, Shuuji wouldn't have been able to understand it. Regardless, he dropped into a crouch, staring up at the latch with intent.

<I was KIDDING!>

"Do me a favor and stay right where you are," he instructed, ears spreading wide like helicopter blades. "I haven't entirely figured out how this works yet." Then, with a hop, step — "Tiny Twister!" —, jump towards the ceiling-

-he hit just shy of the vent and dropped like a stone.

Ryo couldn't say he expected anything less, but also OW!

He hopped towards Shuuji's fallen form — a tiring and clumsy motion, but one that was faster than coordinating those little stubs. By the time Ryo reached his side, he was already back on wobbly feet and shaking off the pain.

"I'm fine," he grit out, holding his head. "Liftoff's at more of an angle than I thought. I'll figure it out."

<If you don't concuss yourself first!> Ryo looked up at the vent. It was hard to tell through Kunemon's grainy vision, but he thought he could make out some signs of damage where Shuuji had flung himself. <Or make an entirely new hole...>

Nevertheless, Shuuji returned to his previous position. "Come back; let's try this again."

Ryo could already tell how things would play out: Shuuji would continuously ragdoll himself against the ceiling, all while getting more and more frustrated and insisting that he'll totally get it next time. Maybe he eventually would. Maybe he'd instead knock himself out cold.

<Yeeeaaah, no.> Instead of returning to his spot behind him, Ryo crawled towards the nearest pile of furniture.

"I don't think we'd be able to stack all of those..."

Then it was a good thing that wasn't his intent.

Ryo turned back towards the vent, trying to gauge the distance through the haze. The time when Kunemon got captured by the spiders and he was stuck facing them down in the gymnasium had to be the worst moment of an already terrible experience, but the instincts triggered by that fear had taught him one thing.

An unpleasant, disgusting thing, but it was a thing preferable to standing aside while Shuuji gave himself brain damage.

He pictured one of those spiders hanging below the vent, jaws snapping and drooling in anticipation. Already, he could feel a thick cottony liquid pool at the base of his mouth.

<Electric Thread!> 

The call for electricity jolted the syrupy spray from his mouth, sending it flying into the far wall. With a bite and a yank, he caught the other end and stuck it to the underside of a toppled chair. Remnants fizzled on his tongue like a sugar-free soda with the aftertaste of shirt. 

Gagging, he clawed away the nasty residue. He was never going to get used to that taste...

Shuuji dropped his stance, following the thread with his eyes. "That... may just work," he accepted, coming over to inspect the closer end. "But would one strand be strong enough?"

<I guess I could add more if we- HEY!> Ryo lunged for Shuuji, headbutting him back before he could do something utterly stupid.

"What's wrong with you!?"

<What's wrong with-? Did you lose some brain cells when you smacked the ceiling!?> Ryo strummed the thread, causing it to spark at his touch. It was a tickle through Kunemon's chitin, but would've been like the touch of a taser to something squishier, like a lopmon. <ELECTRIC! Thread. E-lec-tric!>

Fortunately, Shuuji seemed much more receptive to warnings than attempts to share one's identity. "A-Ah. I see..." Ryo could swear he saw a tint of green through his fur. "Okay, that'll be your way out then."

<Not just mine...> Knowing his kews would fall on uncomprehending ears, Ryo shook his head before jerking it towards his back.

"Are you... asking me to ride you?"

He really couldn't have chosen any other way to phrase that!? <Just get on before I regret offering!> he growled, gesturing at it once more.

"If you say so..." With obvious discomfort, Shuuji climbed onto his back and took hold of his anten-

<AAGH!>

"Sorry! Sorry!" He let go immediately, pulling away. "I didn't know they were so sensitive!"

<Apparently!> Ryo hissed. With just a touch, it felt as though he'd been struck across the face and both ears at once, overwhelming his senses and leaving him completely disoriented.

As the overload cleared, he could feel Shuuji lean forward again. With more hesitation, he gingerly clasped the ridge that grew between the antennae instead. "Is this alright?"

Ryo made sure he could feel him nod before pulling himself onto a chair leg. Now came the "fun" part of inching his way up what might as well have been a power line, all while the sparks tickled his feet and underside as an impatient living pillow clung to his back.

At least he wasn't going straight up or down.

He dropped onto the web, which vibrated but held firm (good, no need to do that again), and began the ascent.

The higher he climbed, the more he could feel Shuuji fidget, and the claws that were clasped around his ridge started digging into his head. He was very fortunate that most of Kunemon's body was much less sensitive than those antennae were...

When they were steps away from the vent, he could feel a much more obvious shifting as a second pair of claws moved up from his sides.

<Careful...!>

"It's alright; just need to unlatch the covering..." He climbed further up, draping Ryo's peripherals — and then full vision — in brown and forcing him to stop. "Oh, and of course it opens down. Maybe I can just rest it on...?"

<Shuuji!> 

"Working on it!" There was another vibration under his feet before both the brown in front of his "eyes" and the weight on his back disappeared. 

"There!" he nearly cheered from the opening above. Backing away to make room, he added, "Now it's your turn."

<Okay, THAT DOOR was clearly open!>

Shuuji didn't acknowledge his complaint, continuing to press on through the crawlspace. It wasn't like he wasn't seeing which rooms had open doors; he was making a point of stopping at every single one to check.

With a frustrated growl, Ryo stopped the typical leg cycles to hop after him. The movement clanged noisily in the vent, causing Shuuji to flinch and whirl back.

"Can you not do that?"

<We've passed at least three rooms we could've left through,> Ryo said, gesturing back at the latest one. <Why are we still up here?>

The other followed his look. "Are you asking why we didn't drop into that room?"

Close enough. Ryo nodded.

"I'm looking for the music room. Takuma had wanted me to check on Miyuki while they were gone and try to convince her to get out and socialize a bit. There's clearly a way to get in through the vents, and she'd have to at least open the door so we could leave... Seemed like the perfect chance to get two birds with one stone."

He seemed proud of the idea, although Ryo wished he had brought it up sooner. Both of those kids really rubbed him the wrong way; he still wasn't convinced they were even human. The girl, admittedly, wasn't too bad and seemed to be the only one around this time. At worst, she was unnervingly passive and not all there. The boy, on the other hand...

"Like I said. I... don't care... about you. Not at all!"

The feeling was mutual with that little creep.

Now that he knew that was the idea, Ryo fully intended to drop down into the next room with an exit. But of course, as luck would have it, the next room was the music room.

"Here's our stop." Shuuji nudged the opening wider until it was large enough to fit through, then dropped down.

Shortly after, Ryo could hear a crashing sound and a shriek.

Great.

Ryo dropped after him, landing on the back of a chair. He could spot Miyuki across the room, in the process of lifting another just like it.

Okay! Not so passive this time around!

"Wait! Wait! We're friendly!"

Shuuji's frantic shouting caused her to pause, although she didn't drop the chair. She studied them as though they were a couple of rocks she'd found in her shoe.

"Lopmon... and Kunemon..." she identified. "You shouldn't be here." 

There was no urgency, threat, or alarm to her words, just a mild observation, paired with a stare as though they bored her.

Nice to know that in her brother's absence she'd taken up his mannerisms. What, were they a two-for-one deal in this timeline?

"Sorry to startle you," Shuuji said, sounding far more startled than she did at the moment. "We got locked inside one of the other classrooms and were trying to find a way out. I heard you were usually in here, so I thought maybe you could let us out if we dropped in?"

She stared a moment more before putting the chair back on the ground. Without a word, she crossed over to the door, opening it and looking back at them expectantly. All but demanding that they leave.

She didn't have to tell him twice. Ryo dropped from the chair and started towards the door, but Shuuji didn't budge. "You know, the others had been talking. It sounds like they're worried about you locking yourself up in here."

"I've been here for much longer than they; they have no reason for concern."

"Well, maybe you can still come out later? Just to let them know you're alive?"

"They know where to find me," she said dismissively. "Besides, between your lot's encounters with the dokugumon, Fangmon, and Plutomon, chances are I'll have better luck at staying alive if I keep my distance."

She wasn't wrong. They were practically magnets for those monsters...

Wait a minute.

He stopped moving as Shuuji seemed to pick up on the same oddity. "How'd you know about all that?" he asked. "And what was that last one?"

"I was here when the dokugumon were," she explained, not bothering to address the rest. The silence between them stretched.

"You can go now," she said, as though her silent implication wasn't already as subtle as a brick.

"Surely it must get lonely staying in here on your own." Shuuji really didn't know when to quit.

<Shuuji, I don't think she cares...> 

"If I had a problem with it, I would leave. But I don't." Although her expression was as tired as usual, Ryo got the sense that she was getting more irritated the longer he spoke.

<...Yeah, it's seriously time to drop it!> Ryo nudged him, urging him to leave. Unfortunately, that warning wasn't acknowledged.

"Maybe you're not actually alone? I mean, all the others had come over in a group. Maybe you have someone too? At least a partner? Maybe a friend, or a brother-?"

"If I said I'll consider the offer, would you just leave!?"

Shuuji flinched, and Ryo couldn't blame him. One would think he'd just lobbed his own brick at a landmine the way she snapped. "R-Right, okay. Sorry for bringing it up."

"No, you're not," she coldly retorted. "You're just trying to backtrack because you didn't get the reaction you wanted."

There was no response to her admonishment. Shuuji looked as though he intended to, but his nerve broke and he hurried from the room. With him gone, she refocused her attention onto Ryo. "You too." 

He shivered. That look she was giving him felt just like her brother's from below the bridge. That uncanny stare, unfeeling and full of contempt...

<I can see the family resemblance,> he muttered.

The glare seemed to deepen, although he couldn't tell if it was because she actually understood his words or just didn't like his tone. Either way, he could feel it burn through his body, even after she shut the door behind him.

<Friggin' creepy...>