A/N: The final version of Kukachi! Had to revise it heavily because I'm determined to finally create and finish a version of Yesterday's Feelings that I don't absolutely hate and to do that, I had to come back to this. I didn't entirely re-write it from scratch, of course; I've just revised it very heavily and changed some things and I feel better about it now, so… yeah. To anybody who read the original Kukachi and now reads this… I award you a medal, because it was difficult for even me to stay with myself during this journey.

p.s. Yamato, Taichi & Mimi are sixteen; TK, Kari, Daisuke etc. are fourteen.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Digimon or rights to the show or any of the characters, I am not making any kind of profit from this, etc.

Prologue: "Good" Mornings
by: neo-chan

Glancing out the window, it seemed like a perfectly normal day. The old lady next door, Mrs. Wardler, was out on her front porch knitting as she did every morning. Mr. Jenner from a few doors down was out jogging, as per his daily routine. Three girls in school uniforms were walking down the street- getting an early start on the walk to school, I assumed. I would be leaving for school soon also.

Taking a deep breath, I fixed my tie and glanced in the mirror. I've been wearing a uniform to school for as long as I can remember, attending private schools from the moment I entered the school system as a child. I've never known anything else and perhaps that makes me biased, but I'm strongly in favour of uniforms in schools. I think that it helps to keep students focused and in order and it also saves time in the mornings while getting ready for school.

A knock sounded at my door and I sighed inwardly, preparing myself for the day ahead; another day of being the "perfect son". It wasn't as if I despised my life—in fact, I was perfectly happy with my life—but sometimes I had to wonder what it would be like if I had a "normal" teenage life; the type of life where I had no worries, no cares, and absolutely no responsibility.

"Come in," I called.

The door creaked open and I turned to find my father standing in the doorway, dressed in freshly pressed tan pants and a white collared shirt with a brown tie, a tan blazer draped over his shoulder.

"Good morning, Yamato," he greeted me.

"Good morning," I responded. "How did you sleep last night?"

My father paused slightly before he replied with, "I slept well, how about you?"

"I slept quite well also," I replied pleasantly.

"That's good." My father sounded distracted, and I found out why with his next words. "Yamato, your mother and I have some news for you."

"News?" I asked curiously.

My father nodded. "Yes… and it might be better if you take this news sitting down."

I sat down on my bed, beginning to worry a bit. What if something terrible had happened, or a family member was hurt or ill? My father seemed to notice my concern and rushed to assure me.

"Don't worry, Yamato, it's nothing too horrible."

I relaxed slightly, but was still very curious. "What is it?" I asked.

"Well, before I tell you, keep in mind that your mother and I have been discussing this for quite some time. This isn't a spontaneous decision, and there are several valid reasons behind it."

I nodded, waiting for him to go on.

"…Yamato, we're moving."


Moving? Alright, so it wasn't that bad; we would probably just be moving across town.

"…to Kukachi."

With the addition of those words, all I could do was stare at my father. Kukachi? We were moving to Kukachi?

Obviously my father's definition of 'horrible' didn't match mine. Kukachi is a city located several hours away from my own town, Mirong—which meant I would have to switch schools and abandon all of my friends, and my girlfriend. As if this wasn't disheartening enough; Kukachi's crime rate is less than ideal and is generally known as a low-class city; the exact opposite of Mirong. Why on earth would we be moving there, of all places? I had such a great life in Mirong—we all did! My father was a successful investment fund manager, my mother was a member of several highly respected clubs and societies, and I had great friends and a wonderful girlfriend. We lived in a big, beautiful house with a rich green lawn and a garden my mother was proud of, and I had spent most of my life living in that very house! What reason could we possibly have to move to Kukachi?

Several long, silent moments passed and my father coughed lightly, shifting uneasily.


I was speechless. How could my parents decide such a thing?

"I've been offered a job there," my father said, trying to supply a reason as well as fill the gap of silence.

"But your job is fine!" I exclaimed.

"Yamato, it's an opportunity for you to make new friends and experience new things—"

"I like my friends, and I don't want to experience 'new things'!"


That was all it took to silence me. But how could he do such a thing to me? How could they do such a thing? I've never been one of those children who screams "I hate you!" at their parents and storms out of the room… but at that moment, doing such a thing was incredibly tempting.

"I'm sorry, Yamato," my father said gently, "but this is not a negotiation. We are moving."

My life was completely and utterly ruined.