An ordinary day at Odaiba High School goes horribly wrong when six students decide that they're tired of playing by the rules.
Taichi cackled to himself as he leisurely headed toward the cafeteria, the place he should have been ten minutes ago. True, he'd been sidetracked but Yamato would surely have everything under control .Taichi deemed his daring escape pure luck. It must have been, he had just evaded the S.A.T.: Japan's premier defense, protectors of the citizens of the country, one level behind the damned arm forces. Yagami Taichi was convinced he was something akin to a Kami. No one had luck like that.
He nodded to himself with satisfaction, and made a mental note to thank the unfortunate soul who had stumbled out of the brush, if he ever saw him again. The guy had foolishly picked up Taichi's own fallen weapon and point it at him Taichi doubted that.
Finding the guy with blue hair and eyes would be a piece of cake. The idiot was practically begging to be caught, running out wildly, limbs flailing about like an insane drunk. Taichi was sure that he could place the blame on the guy, when they were "rescued." He would face the cops, cradling someone's dead body, sobbing for all he was worth and describe the "shooter." He would even testify in court, if need be.
Taichi whistled, a chipper tune flowing from between his smirking lips when suddenly there were yells of panic and anger flitting through the halls. He reached the cafeteria doors, staring through one of the small glass windows on the double doors and swore angrily. "I'm going to kill him," Taichi muttered, noting that this was probably Jyou's fault.
Not only was Jyou in the middle of the fray, but he had taken his mask off and was pointing his gun at two people. Two very frightened, very familiar, boys who were shakily inching their lips toward one another.
"What the hell is going on here!?"
Taichi whipped his attention to the other side of the cafeteria where Matt walked in, gun held high. "Everyone on the floor now!"
The resounding crack of a gun being fired hit Taichi's ears. He stared into the room, noting the neither Jyou nor Yamato had shot.
"Koushiro!" Taichi grumbled, stalking off in the direction of the echoing shots.
Yamato was not confused, not by any means. But he was upset. He'd grown up watching Hikari grow up beside his own little brother. He'd seen the brave little girl turn into a teenager, wise beyond her years. Yamato laughed at the antics his brother and Kari would get up to – particularly their first baking session. His eyes stung with the thought of having to face his beloved brother and tell him what had happened to the one person who was the light of Takeru's world.
His mind drifted and he imaged Takeru's lifeless body in Sora's arms and he growled angrily. If it had been Takeru, he'd have ripped Sora apart. He'd have made her death was painful and slow. Just because.
Luckily, it wasn't Takeru. Takeru was still alive and well, But since he was [alive], Yamato wasn't ready to raise hell – yet.
There were no words spoken, breaths were held and eyes were glued to the scene before them.
"Just do it already!" Someone randomly yelled from the crowd.
"I'm sorry," Takeru mouthed before pulling their faces closer.
"What the hell is going on here!?"
Jyou looked up to find someone standing in the corner, gun raised at him. "Just a little teaching assignment."
Yamato restrained himself from shooting when he saw it was Takeru locked in the middle of the throngs. He shook furiously. "Under whose order?"
"I don't take orders!" Jyou snapped. "I can do whatever the hell I please! Watch me!" He turned toward Takeru and Daisuke. Raising his gun, he shot Daisuke in the chest.
"No!"Takeru caught him as the red head stumbled backwards, Daisuke's breath coming in raspy gasps. A thin stream of blood fell from the corner of his mouth.
"ENOUGH!" Yamato yelled, and the students parted like the Red Sea to let him through. "Everybody on the ground! Now!"
The students scrambled, pushing their friends and the staff around them to the cold floor, not daring to look at their murderers. Yamato briskly walked to the center of the room where Jyou now had his gun trained on Takeru's head.
"Put it down, Jyou!" Yamato hissed, earning awed gasps from the people nearest them.
"Why should I?" Jyou inquired, his finger squeezing gently on the trigger. "I just said I don't take orders."
Yamato reacted fast and shot Jyou's gun out of his hand, implanting a bullet into the palm of the older male. Jyou cried out in agony, his hand flexing and his body convulsing in spasms of pain.
Yamato stared down at his brother who had fallen to the floor, his hands clamped over Daisuke's gaping wound and his eyes were swollen as held onto Daisuke even tighter. "Please!" Takeru croaked. The corners of his mouth turned down as he took in the blue orbs that almost mirrored his own. Takaishi Takeru didn't want to face the truth, but there it was. Staring him in the face in such a mocking sense. All the hours of solitude, the mysterious conversations. The hushed whispers. As much as it hurt to acknowledge it… it was true.
The gasp for air was practically a scream in the empty room. With a firm kick, using the muscles she'd strived to develop, Sora pushed herself to the edge of the pool and hauled herself onto the ledge. She forced the water from her lungs and cried at the intense pain that constricted in her chest. She laid there, her legs still submerged in the cold water. Her mouth opened and closed like that of a fish. Trying in vain, she searched for the strength to pull herself out of the pool. No matter how deep she dug, she couldn't find it.
Faintly aware of the gurgling sounds behind her, Sora turned her head slowly. Bubbles, tainted red by what was undoubtedly blood, floated to the surface. Her eyes grew in size as she saw the denim shorts, the green sweatshirt, and finally, the long brown hair. Tachikawa Mimi's body floated to the surface of the water; swirls of blood soaking her hair and clothes.
She was unmoving and Sora blinked, utterly stunned. She didn't think it could have been Mimi. She didn't know who it could have been. She just knew someone had pushed her into the water. Logic told her it was true, yet her heart wanted it to be false.
"Why are you doing this?" Mimi asked curiously. "You have so much going for you. I mean, you're Takenouchi Sora. You're a prime pick for the country's women's tennis team. You were on the Best of Tokyo soccer team."
Sora laughed bitterly. "That's all I am. That's all people see. 'The sport's girl.' No one understands."
"Understands what?" Mimi pried.
"Me," Sora whispered. She looked down into the pool and glared at her reflection. "No one seems to notice that I'm not just that girl. They don't see that there's more."
Mimi slung an arm around Sora's shoulder and squeezed. "You'd be surprised." Sora stared at the image of them on the water's surface. No one would have guessed that they weren't the best friends. They were merely acquaintances but she caught the glimpse of sadness in the younger girl's brown eyes. Mimi gave the mirroring water a weak smile before looking down at her wrist watch and giggling excitedly. "It's time!"
Sora had seen Mimi as just the other person who maybe understood her, but that was a big maybe. There was no telling what was going through Mimi's head. For all Sora knew, Mimi's mind had the same thoughts going through it. The same manipulative kill or be killed ideology. Sora pulled her back into the water because Mimi pushed her in.
Mimi had tried to kill her. Then, it hit Sora, even if they had intentionally tried to hurt one another, at some point they were on the same level. At one point in time, Mimi felt as inferior as she did.
"Mimi," Sora asked softly, trying to reach for the girl who was quite a distance away. "Mimi!"
"What the hell…"
Sora turned slowly, in time to see Taichi jump over her and dive into the water. He swam to Mimi, flipping her over and inspecting the bloodied mess that was her once beautiful face. "What happened to her?" he demanded and Sora only shook her head, too afraid to speak to Taichi.
Ken stared up at the bright ceiling lamp and blinked. He remembered getting put in a car and he remembered seeing trees, people, and buildings go by, but he had no memory of why he was being taken away. It was all a blur of flashing lights and angry demands.
"Now, Mr. Ichijouji, are you ready to cooperate?" an official sounding voice said.
Ken tried to reach up and rub his eyes but found his wrists were handcuffed behind the steal chair he was sitting in. He suddenly panicked. Images of Takeru and Daisuke, two people he'd just met but who'd entrusted him with what he knew was the one thing they both loved, flashed in his mind. He watched Yagami Hikari die. He let it happen. It was making him insane. The knowledge that he held Kari's life in his hands and had allowed it to be destroyed.
"It should have been me," Ken whimpered, eyes wide and gaze shaking violently. "It should have been me! KILL ME!"
"KID! I don't care if you do die or not! But I want to know why you did this! Do you have accomplices! How many people did you kill! Why did you do this!?"
"Kari!" Ken whispered harshly. "She pushed me and I fell and then they shot her! They didn't even care. They didn't even know. They just unloaded on her. And she fell. She fell and I couldn't do anything. I – she pushed me away… and I couldn't do anything!"
"Mr. Ichijouji! Think very carefully about what you are saying! You were found, holding a gun! Do you honestly think that we would bel–"
A harsh knock on the door brought Chief Nao to his feet, he threw the metal door open and stared down at a feeble officer whose face read the worst form of dread. "There are still shootings going on within the school. There are more of them. Sir… Endo is dead."
A/n: December 26, 2009
DISCLAIMER: PrincessJaded does not own Digimon. Just the craziness of this PURELY fictional story.
July... four months later and all I have is a very short chapter. I'm not gonna apologize. There's no excuse here. I just hope it's enough to keep you interested. ARCtheElite beta'd. Thanks, Otouto!