Author's notes:

[1] Daisuke in Training, out of respect for the eyes perusing this short story, will be split into three chapters. The whole thing is presently 20,000 words long, but the writing is approaching its conclusion, so it won't be much longer than that.

[2] The "nasty run-in" described in the summary will not be depicted here. I'm more concerned with the character development, so that event is unimportant.

[3] If you're a reader who just came across this story in the archives, this is set sometime in the year 2004. This is approximately a year and several months after the BelialVamdemon battle in December 2002. As observed in the Zero Two epilogue and subsequent audio dramas, digimon have only recently begun emerging—"realizing", to use Tamers parlance—in the Real World in droves. Humankind has thus far welcomed them all with open arms…

[4] I thank Lord Pata for suggesting I split this short story into three chapters. I am also grateful for him, Arika Ito, and ShadowPrince61 (a dA user) for being my OOC checks. Lastly, as I say in everything I upload, all feedback and comments are welcome, and I highly encourage constructive criticism. Happy reading. :)

DAISUKE IN TRAINING

Part I of III - Apartment # 825

Two panels of solid steel parted for Takeru Takaishi. The empty hallway beyond beckoned him forward. It might have carried the undertones of a haunted corridor, of an eerie ambiance had it not been for the fluorescent cylinders casting their radiance on the hallways and the sun's photons piercing their artificial glow from the open walkway with rays of revealing light.

Takeru stepped over the divider, his eyes directed at the signs nailed to the walls. His thoughts were wandering, and it didn't help to have a slight weight encumbering the Gilligan hat on his head. "Let's see, which way's Unit 825…"

An auburn hamster, rather large for its species, peeked in from above. "It's that-a-way, Takeru!" A pair of bat-like wings flapped excitedly.

"Hm?"

His ultramarine eyes glimpsed his partner's outstretched paw, trained towards one of the open walkways. It jiggled and quivered, as though he'd been putting so much effort in it.

For a moment there, Takeru could've sworn Patamon was trying to pull him in that direction without being inconsiderate enough to take flight and drag him there the way Chibimon had been known to drag Daisuke around for his childish whims, driving everyone around him insane.

Speaking of Daisuke…

Patamon's voice chirped. "So, why are we here again?"

"Did you forget already?"

He felt the hamster wilt from embarrassment. "Well… I got a little distracted with Tailmon sharing those chips with me. I wasn't, uhm… I wasn't exactly listening."

The Child of Hope let out a light chuckle. "Distracted, with Tailmon? Are you telling me you have feelings for her?"

"What!" Patamon reacted at once, and if it hadn't been for his hat, his hair would've been tousled hard from his thrashing. "No, no, no, no! You got it all wrong—there's no way that's true! Digimon don't go through these sorts of things, not like you humans and—

"It's okay," Takeru cooed. He reached up for the hamster and stroked him, lovingly rubbing his digimon partner until he calmed down. "It's okay, I understand." He understood Patamon had yet to sort out his stance on the Digimon of Light. Takaishi couldn't blame him though—Hikari was his significant other, and that could only mean spending a lot of time with the white cat.

"Anyway, it's just that ever since our run-in with those delinquents last week, Daisuke's gone AWOL. We only see him in class, but on every other time, he's just gone. Vanished. We don't know what's going on, and…"

"And?"

"You know Hikari. Always worrying about her friends. Those two are pretty close."

He tittered. "Not as close as you are."

"That has nothing to do with this."

"Not really! Daisuke's still racked about you and Hikari getting together after Taichi's victory party last year."

"And how would you know that?"

"Chibimon told me. We hang out a lot, remember?"

Before Takeru Takaishi could even reply, a green door in front of him suddenly swung open. It snapped back, startling both the Chosen Child and the Child-level relaxing on his crown.

"You're gonna what!" A woman marched into view. Every step she took was heavy, burdened by a weight that mirrored the astonishment and horror apparent on her countenance. Her maroon hair, disheveled. Her purple eyes, surrounded by eye bags. "No, you can't do this. Please, Mr. Shiratori, I know I haven't been current on my rent the past two months, but—

Blinded by her own anxiety, she barely noticed the thirteen year-old standing close to her doorway. They would have collided if it wasn't for the Chosen Child's quick reflexes and Patamon's shrill voice. "Whoa, watch out!"

"Huh?" She gazed at him, blinking a couple times in confusion until it dawned on her she almost slammed into him. A complete stranger nonetheless. Takeru's nose caught the faint scent of alcohol and tobacco exuding from her body. Patamon, like an ostrich, planted his face on his human half's hat, restraining the urge to squeal in disgust and offend the human in front of them.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there," she apologized. Her purple eyes landed on Patamon's aquamarine. "Thanks for keeping an eye out."

"It's alright," replied Takeru, patting the dirt off his khaki shorts. In times like this, it was best to remain diplomatic. It certainly wouldn't do well to somehow get himself involved in someone else's problems, let alone a squabble with one of Daisuke's neighbors. "You're going through some kind of crisis; I understand."

He sidestepped past her, avoiding body contact as much as possible.

She was in the middle of thanking him for the sympathy when the man on the other line articulated something she did not want to hear. "Mr. Shiratori! I beg you, just give me another month. Please, think of Yoshino."

Takeru felt sad for her. Observing the woman struggle with her financial condition was like being stabbed in the heart, especially for him. He could only assume she was the mother of a little girl, trying to make ends meet just to give her a happy life.

He knocked twice on the brown door, the last one on this corridor deck, as soon as he got to it. "825" was nailed to the wooden panel itself. Clearly this was the Motomiya residence.

Takeru snuck a peek at the woman outside, hoping to see a smile grace her face. Instead, he was greeted with a downcast expression, a melancholy that reverberated from her very being, even as she walked back into her unit without so much as glancing at the teenager she almost collided with. "Oh this is the worst," he could almost hear her mumbling.

Ten seconds passed.

Takeru knocked again. Someone had to be home. It's a Saturday, for crying out loud. Why wasn't anyone—

A female voice hollered from within. "Coming!"

"Hold on, I'll open it," a male quickly retorted.

"But you're a guest! Stay right—

"What did you just call me?" Laughter. "Jesus Christ, I'm from Unit 821. Just four doors down! I don't really think that qualifies me"—the door opened, revealing an older man in a polo, probably in his mid-20's.—"to be your guest." He stared at the teenager. "Oh, uhm…"

Takeru didn't know he was staring at Patamon instead, who was right at eye level.

"Hi!" the Chosen Child spoke, the tone in his voice gauche. He certainly didn't recognize this person, and if he overheard the conversation right, this man wasn't Daisuke's father. Breaking the ice became a little bit daunting. "Uhhhhh… I was just wondering if…"

"So? Who is it?" The other voice spoke. Judging from the youthfulness of its cadence, Takeru guessed it was Jun.

"Well, it's some kid—

"A kid?"

"Yeah, and he's got this batpig on top of his head."

Patamon did not take this kindly. "I am NOT a batpig!" He jumped from Takeru's head and, flapping his strong ear-wings, hovered towards the man. "Take it back."

"Oh my God!" He shrunk back, clinging to the wall with his legs shaking like jelly. He looked like he was afraid of Patamon. "I forgot some of these damn things look like pets!"

"I said, take it back!" fumed Patamon. The grown man whimpered, unable to even look at him. "And I'm nobody's pet either!"

Takeru cocked an eyebrow. Odd, he thought. This was the first time someone acted this scared towards his partner. It didn't make sense. Patamon had a gentle and respectful character, and was always careful towards other humans, even now when digimon populated the world, blessing the world with their presence. Someone like him shouldn't even be engendering fear, especially on a fully grown adult.

Jun Motomiya strolled into the hall. She was frowning. "Himura, just what's going on over there?" Takeru honestly couldn't tell what thoughts were rustling in her head, taking in the sight of a well-bodied man cowering in front of an orange flying hamster.

Luckily, Daisuke's older sister recognized him immediately. Probably from the fact she knew he was Yamato's younger brother. "Ah, I know you! Here to see Daisuke, right?"

He nodded. "Takeru, was it?" Another nod.

She waved. "C'mon in," she invited, grinning at the visitor. Then she gazed at the man and frowned once more. "Himura, get back in there." Jun thrust her finger to the living room. "Buddha, this is why I keep telling you to stop acting like you live here. I know you're close with my dad, but this is just—

"Can you puh-leaseget this goddamn batpig away before it bites me?"

Patamon insisted, "Stop calling me a batpig!" Though gentle and respectful, those traits did not mean he was incapable of asserting himself.

Jun rolled her eyes. Hands on her hips, "Don't worry. He won't really do anything to you. Just like Chibimon."

"Then why does it keep STARING at me with those unholy—

Takeru Takaishi had heard stories from his seniors among the Chosen Children. Stories about people who were skeptical of the benevolence they brought to the world. They distrusted them, and were naturally frightened of their destructive abilities.

Naturally, such people tended to lack digimon partners of their own.

He couldn't believe it for a second when the stories were passed down to him, yet it was only now that such memories were resurfacing.

He pitied the man.

"Mister," Takeru articulated, in hopes of ending this squabble. "You probably didn't mean to, but you just insulted my best friend. Please, take it back and apologize to him."

It was unbelievable. This wasn't a big deal. Shelving the questions of shape and form, digimon were no different from human beings. They had emotions, and they were a people in their own right. Mr. Himura should be consoled by the fact most derogations directed to other members of his species would've resulted in something worse—far worse—than angry glares.

Such thoughts educed Takeru's aching biceps. Fighting off those delinquents had taken a harder toll on his body than he thought.

Still, they failed to distract him from the amusing scene unfolding before his indigo pools. Mr. Himura was retreating in vain from an orange hamster, keeping himself in the air with those wings of his. His digital half was about as big as a Mokona doll. Or perhaps, one of those Pokémon plushies anyone could win at an arcade. The adult was several times Patamon's size! Even Veemon would be no taller than his shins, assuming Daisuke's claims of his growth spurts were merely gross exaggerations.

One multiplier to this already hilarious scene was the simple fact Takeru knew Patamon bore no ill will towards Mr. Himura. He wouldn't blow an Air Shot for something like this, no matter how much it irritated him. The Chosen Child's confidence oozed from their platonic relationship. They were best friends.

Or brothers, one might say, born by the glory of combat.

Patamon was a cute creature. One that attracted attention and squeals of pure, utter joy from girls around Takeru's age, who'd frighten the Digimon of Hope into Mr. Himura's position by multiple though fruitless attempts to cuddle with him.

"Okay," the grown man caved. "I'm sorry for calling you a batpig. I didn't know what else to call you. God, I'm so sorry. Please don't bite me!"

Patamon pouted. "I go by adorable hamster, you know."

"Okay, adorable hamster!" Mr. Himura reiterated. "Gotcha. I'll keep that in mind."

Without warning a smile replaced his pout, which astounded the adult so much his jaw dropped to the floor. "Great! Glad we understand each other."

Mr. Himura's expression was priceless. As much as he knew he shouldn't be laughing like this, especially not at a complete stranger's expense, Takeru couldn't resist bursting into giggles.

Neither could Jun, who fell to the floor laughing.

"This ISN'T funny!"

"Yes it is!" Jun smirked. Then she blinked, like a bulb of light went on somewhere inside her head. She gyrated towards Takeru, who inched back from anticipation. Daisuke had always warned people about her peculiar… idiosyncrasies.

"Oh, I forgot to introduce you!" The elder Motomiya snatched the adult by the sleeve of his polo and pulled him towards her. "This is Wakana Himura." It was so nonchalant Takeru figured he must've been very close to the family. Only later would he realize Daisuke's sister did not address him with honorifics. "He does business with dad a lot, so he, well, he's kinda become a family friend thanks to that!"

"Aahhhhhh," acknowledged Takeru. "For about how long?"

"Since I was a brat!" Jun proclaimed, proud.

Wakana shrugged her grip away and—sidestepping Patamon the way Takeru did with that woman—approached Takeru. "I own a hedge fund, and venture capitalism is just one of the things I do." He smiled warmly. "Mr. Motomiya happened to have a very good idea when he came to my firm for funding."

All those words were lost to Takeru. Who could blame him? He was still a teenager, and chances were high he did not understand a word that came out of Wakana's mouth. Worse, the Chosen Child was self-aware. "Errrrrrr, right." He shook hands. "Takeru Takaishi. Pleased to meet you."

It was at this point Patamon posed a query. "Uhm, Mr. Himura?"

Wakana gaped, a little tousled from Takeru's digital half hovering inches from his face. "Ye-yes?" he gulped. "W, what is it?"

"Why did you think I'll bite? I don't do that."

Thank Buddha Patamon didn't really attack the white elephant.

"Uhm, well… how can I say this…"

The digimon smiled. "I shoot air instead!" Takeru facepalmed.

Click.

Jun had closed the front door herself. "Chibimon loves freaking him out every time he comes here."

"Freaking me out?" Wakana countered, horrified. "That's what you call that lizard's multiple attempts to EAT my fingers?"

"For the nth time, Himura, he just nips you the way puppies do. I think it's adorable."

"Well I don't."

"Isn't Daisuke supposed to be a role model?" Takeru grimaced. "Obviously his partner needs to learn how to respect other people's—

Jun waved him off. "Pfft, you got it all wrong! Thing is, Chibimon singles him out from all the other people visiting dad for business."

"Why?"

"Beats me. Daisuke can't figure it out either, and we only get confusing answers if we ask him."

Takeru watched Wakana gently push Patamon towards his human half, sweating profusely as he did so. He had the most intent stare directed to an open Macbook, sitting quietly on the dining table. "Okay, you leeettle adorable hamster you. Go back to your partner, and leave me alone so I can get back to work on some spreadsheets I'm showing Mr. Motomiya when he gets here in a few minutes…"

Judging by the way he reacted, no wonder Chibimon wouldn't leave him alone. Takeru facepalmed again.

The Child of Hope would've slapped himself twice more had he been given the opportunity to ask how neither Daisuke nor Jun arrived at this simple conclusion, and why Mr. Himura was working here right now if he didn't want to be disturbed.

This window was shut the instant the only girl in the room mentioned her younger brother and cemented further by the very implications of his own thoughts: was Daisuke even home to begin with?

"Jun," Takeru cleared his throat. He hoped this visit was going to be quick. The Child of Hope didn't want to dwell too long in the Motomiya household, not with the patriarch on the verge of a business meeting in the apartment. It would be imprudent of him to overstay his welcome, especially today. "About your brother, how is he? Has he been… okay, recently?"

"Hmm, what do you mean?" She cocked her head. "He's been holed up in his room all day. Comes out just to eat."

"Don't you see anything wrong with that?"

She shrugged. "Not really. Buddha knows what the hell he's doing with Chibimon in there. For all I know they're playing Devil May Cry on that PlayStation 2 dad got Daisuke a couple months ago."

Patamon's eyes lit up. "I forgot all about that!" The Digimon of Hope leapt out of his partner's hands and, sniffing the air, flew to a door in the hallway, his demeanor characterized by a childish giddiness Takeru rarely glimpsed since they parted five years ago. "He promised me last week he'll introduce me to some giant robot fighting game!

"CHIBIIIIMOOOON!" the hamster shrieked, hurling himself at the doorknob. "It's me, Patamon! I've come to visit!"

Takeru's Gilligan hat almost fell from his head as he rushed to his partner. "Patamon, wait! I know you hang out with him, but this isn't your home—

The brass knob refused to budge. "Oh, it's locked."

Takeru heaved a sigh of relief.

Barging into someone's room without knocking or otherwise some form of notification violated that person's right to privacy. It didn't matter if that person was someone who hated Takeru's guts for getting "his girl" (Daisuke) or someone who found Patamon childish enough to enjoy his company (Chibimon).

Common courtesy dictated this respect, and Takeru complied with this personal belief even if "that person" was Hikari herself.

Jun Motomiya turned up with a key in her hands. "I got it covered," she bloomed. Only now did Takeru notice her hair was getting longer, and she apparently wanted it down. He couldn't help but note it actually suited her more.

A heavy reminder of the fact they were all getting older. Slowly, but surely.

The doorknob rotated smoothly with the key in place, and thanks to Jun leading the way, Takeru found no problems convincing his conscience into breaching Daisuke and Veemon's room, their most intimate and private space where no one was to occupy sans their express permission or an extremely close relationship with either.

One thing Takeru learned from his relationship with Hikari Yagami was her annoyance at her own brother. Taichi, for all his overprotective tendencies, simply couldn't be trusted to look after himself. Like most men—like most boys, as the Child of Light derisively referred to, he drove their mother insane on a regular basis with his incessant failure to clean up after himself and his digimon partner.

Agumon was a nasty addition to the household as far as hygiene and personal care were concerned (unlike Tailmon, whose demeanor and lifestyle more than compensated for her destructive claws), and as Hikari's boyfriend, there were always those times when he overheard Yuuko Yagami weeping to Susumu from the sheer stress.

"He's just like Taichi!" Takeru often heard her complain.

Susumu Yagami gave the same response every time, always alluding to the relationship they shared. "They're brothers," the Yagami patriarch quipped, his voice in that peculiar tone that begged her to reconsider any ideas involving pregnancy and a third kid.

Honestly, Takeru prayed for something neat and well-pressed. Something that looked presentable, not a warzone struck by what was tantamount to a nuclear bomb in housekeeping. When Jun opened the door, he was not surprised by the mess that greeted them.

The bed was unmade. Pillows were scattered, its sheets crumpled and unevenly spread all over. Plastic bags and food crumbs had been scattered throughout the room, unsurprisingly concentrated at the corner with the television and the glowing red light of the deactivated PlayStation 2.

Takeru could've sworn his eyes landed on what was clearly pornographic material underneath the bed. Buddha, he hoped Daisuke's adolescent hormones weren't that much of a bad influence on Chibimon. Introducing the Digimon of Miracles to those specific aspects of human life was something Takeru thought inconceivable and, frankly, irresponsible.

Then there was the smell. A musky odor that pervaded the living space so strongly it almost made the Child of Hope choke on his own saliva. He winced from the noisome tang and remained silent, not wanting to offend Jun.

Patamon, however, landed on the bed, the expression on his muzzle lacking antipathy. "He's just like Taichi!" the hamster blurted. Verbalized those four words so smoothly Takeru half-wondered how he ever got along with Agumon, or how he withstood Taichi's private quarters and his dire need for housekeeping standards.

"Sometimes, I wonder how Chibimon could even share the bed with him," the elder Motomiya mused, eyes peering right at him. Takeru had recoiled right in front of her, and the smirk on her face confirmed it. "It's that bad, isn't it? Well, thanks to your visit, I can bring it up at dinner later!"

As it turned out, Daisuke wasn't even home to begin with. "Great," the Child of Hope celebrated, his dry sarcasm loud and clear in its cadence. "I went all this way and he's not even home!"

Wakana Himura heard his outburst and sent a snide remark their way. "Good!" he shouted over. "Now I don't need to worry about Chibimon disturbing me!"

Takeru Takaishi rolled his eyes. If Wakana didn't want to be bothered, then the man should just ignore Chibimon instead of entertaining him with those wild, exaggerated reactions of his or better yet, work in his own unit and do away with that possibility.

The Child of Hope opened his mouth and prepared a snappy rejoinder at the investment professional when the sound of Patamon's flapping ears invaded his ears. "Look, over there!" the hamster voiced, his body moving towards the only object of interest in this glorified pigsty.

An open laptop. Its screensaver was a slideshow, depicting multiple moments between Daisuke and Chibimon like the close brothers they were. He smirked at the sight—considering his infatuation with Hikari, this discovery pointed to some hope Daisuke would eventually relinquish his jealousy and extend the hand of friendship.

It's what Takeru would've done in his stead.

"Does this mean they're in 'that other place'?" Jun pondered.

"The Digital World?" Takeru replied. "Definitely. There's no other way he could get out of the house without you noticing, even if he did resort to Chibimon evolving…"

Patamon grinned. "Besides, it's not like he's a superhuman who'd survive a seven-storey fall to the concrete!"

Jun was shaking her head. "This explains why he's disappearing into his room for the past few days now." Worry glazed her eyes. "Anything happening in there lately?"

"No," Takeru answered, happy to see relief spread on Jun's features. "We haven't had a major problem in the Digital World after Armagemon so…"

"What'll you do now?" Jun questioned. "Will you wait until he gets home?"

Takeru's answer was instantaneous. "No, I'm following him in there." It was about time the two of them had a personal heart-to-heart. His behavior to date was making Hikari worry, and that was enough to persuade the Child of Hope into opening the Gate to the Digital World—to his surprise, it led straight to Primary Village—and raising his digivice.

Before he started the transfer process, Jun Motomiya articulated her concerns, assuming the role of an older sister. It was like seeing the overprotective Taichi in female form. "I know I shouldn't be worried. Daisuke can take care of himself and he's got Chibimon with him. But…"

Patamon piped, "Don't worry, Jun! Takeru'll keep you posted and that's a promise!"

To be continued...

Author's notes:

[5] And while this short story is clearly a standalone work, for all intents and purposes it is canon in my post-02 deconstruction The Interloper. Consequently, I am exerting the same level of effort and quality of writing as if it was another update—hell, that's why this crap's so lengthy!

Anyway, this short piece supplies some background information on the main story, which should, I hope, facilitate some appreciation for how much the origins of its exploitative dystopia have been fleshed out. For the sake of providing context, the events of Daisuke in Training take place during Hikari's "Golden Age", a little less than a year before the "Fourth of July Massacre" in America.

[6] I own the characters Tina Fujieda (unnamed here) and Wakana Himura, who play minor, if not unimportant, roles in both this short story and my decon fic. Their cameos are appropriate as the Motomiya family were their neighbors in The Interloper canon, at least before they moved to another apartment complex in Odaiba in the weeks following the "Shinjuku March".

[7] Part I is approx. 3,900 words long. Part II shall be reviewed one last time before posting. Part III, on the other hand, is still undergoing writing, as I am simply stumped on writing the ending.