Disclaimer: Don't read this unless you are over 18, outside of the civilized world (civilized world, n - anywhere with pornography laws), not going to sue me anyway, not the NSA (I know you love a good moral outrage, but not this time.), not going to arrest me for anything, and would really just like to read a good story already.

Together, by the Ever-Paranoid Anonmon

Author's Notes: This is kind of a songfic, in the sense that song lyrics are interspersed between paragraphs. You can tell them by the italics and the lack of a surrounding paragraph.

Together, heart to heart we'll open and we'll see...

Plotmon drearily opened her eyes - first the left, then the right. Standing on her four purple-furred legs to see what awakened her, she caught the late-spring sunlight full on through a window across the room from her small bed. As she trudged out of the light, her mind started to awaken and today's date caught up with her. Today was...

“Ow!” Ari Frankel was rudely awakened by the sensation of his Digimon partner stomping very deliberately on his chest. Since he wasn't ready for it, it hurt a lot. He slowly raised his head off of his pillows before speaking, letting his bizarrely straight blackish-brown hair droop onto the pillow.

“What's the big deal? !” Plotmon just stared at him, astounded at his incredulity.

“Oh, like you really forgot it's Digital Day and Saturday!”

the light in the heavens.

Plotmon's favorite holiday of the year (since it didn't involve everyone sitting still in a building reading new copies of extremely old books or mourning the obviously-very-honorable dead) commemorated the day – all the way back in 2010 – when the gates between the Digital World and Earth swung open permanently. For 9 years before that, Digimon had to remain in the human world if they wished to be with their partners. The fact that the holiday occurred on the fun day of the week this time around only made it better.

Together, heart to heart, we'll open in hope...

With increasing vigor, Ari got out of bed and dressed himself. A bright beige pair of shorts and a old blue printed shirt came out of a closet, and Ari put them on after a fresh pair of boxers. The shirt came from an job his father once held, and the printing that originally proclaimed the workplace's name had faded to a few lines of lighter blue, but an unknown 'graffitist' (as Dad called the writer) had scrawled out the words “I'd call this sexy.” in sharpie marker shortly after it passed into Ari's possession. Once Ari dressed, he and Plotmon sang their Good Morning Ear Damage Song as they nearly flew down the hall and into the kitchen, waking everyone in the vicinity.

The pair ate breakfast with speed beyond that ever seen in the household, and (a good deal more slowly) briefed Nathan's parents on their itinerary for the day. The pair would head into the major local city by bus, spend the day walking around, and hopefully catch the parade and street performances that accompanied Digital Day. The real excitement, however, came at night. The many nightclubs would, for such a holiday night, open their doors to all ages. Alcohol couldn't be sold at all that night, but who cared? Even 15-year-olds like Ari and Plotmon (whose birth-date, after all, corresponded to that of her human partner) could party!

for love.

The bus ride went as expected, which was itself unexpected. Given the long history of intercity buses blowing up (first intentionally, then spontaneously. People said they were haunted.), parents across the country had debated for years whether to let their children ride. Nowadays the rides generally started and finished with everyone whole and healthy, but some still felt wary. BlackTailmon, Plotmon's out-of-the-house Adult form, didn't abide such people.

“Oy, why was Dad so fearful about us taking the intercity bus?”

“'Cause back in his day,” wearily responded Ari, “these buses were unsafe. Back then people blew these buses up.” Ari put up with his Digimon's obsession with questioning the past out of friendship, not out of interest. She always seemed to want to demonstrate how much things had improved, but he didn't really care too much about matters that people had resolved long ago. She also always wanted to credit the improvements to Digimon. Funny how she picked up her ethnocentrism from her human family.

“How could they fight like that? Wouldn't people's partners step in to fight?” Again with emphasizing the absence of protecting partners in the old days. Ari wouldn't allow it.

“Back then Digimon were stuck in the Digital World, and you know it.” BlackTailmon persisted.

“Just goes to show you...”

“Oh, shut up.”

“What?”

“I'm not continuing this, or we'll fight like an old married couple.”

“Old, nope. Married, pretty much. Couple, I dunno.” Cranky non-morning people were telling the pair to be quiet now, so they did. Arguing with people not fully awake at 10 AM didn't seem wise.

It's how the heart opens up,

Sunlight poured down on the annual Digital Day parades, showing off floats of the heroes who defended both worlds. New York City had WarGreymon show up in person, but Ari's and BlackTailmon's area still had a superb statue or float of each Chosen Digimon. Garudamon and Imperialdramon passed down the street, each engraved with the crest, Digitmental symbols and name of their respective Chosen Child. Then came X-Vmon and Stingmon separately, followed by MetalGarurumon, MegaKabuterimon, and Zudomon. As the parades passed by, people could write messages of thanks on the floats, or just write messages related to that Digimon's virtue.

Ari walked nonchalantly up and handed a slice of pizza to BlackTailmon. Chewing a bite of his own slice slowly, he wandered if the holiday parade got scheduled to coincide with lunchtime and run through a shopping area. Yeah, he decided, it probably did.

He and his partner, who was still eating, walked down the road towards a dead end where a large crowd already trickled in. There workers from various high-tech companies had erected a gigantic computer monitor, the size of the TVs in New York's Times Square. When the parade reached this spot everyone around would dutifully raise their Digivices and open a Digital Gate through that monitor, allowing the parade to proceed into the Digital World. Once in the Digital World, every parade in the world met up for a formal ceremony with the Digimon themselves. Ari craned his neck to see, then felt a flick of a claw on his shoulder. He turned around.

“Aren't we going to go laugh at the European?” BlackTailmon asked curiously. Every year a moralist from Europe – sometimes America or Asia, but usually Europe – would come and give a highly publicized speech to a gigantic holiday crowd, telling everyone to finally dismantle their military and submit to the authority of the United Nations. Given the presence of Digimon in the universe (multiverse?), most of humanity had united behind the U.N. and war became a thing of the past. Ari's country had told everyone to sod off, feeling that trusting their well-being to other people's and governments had worked horribly enough in the past. Nowadays the speech had become an object of public ridicule; listeners played a sort of game trying to figure out what rebuttals (meaning, of course, humorous profanities) to yell this year's moralizer.

Embraces the world,

“Darn right we are,” Ari responded, “What do you think of 'Why do you hate nation states?'?”

“Old-school. I prefer 'Racist, Euro-centric, deluded putz'.” BlackTailmon smiled more widely with each word of her carefully crafted epithet. She enjoyed this more every year.

The pair ambled their way down towards the park the speech would take place in, Ari stopping to ogle the latest and greatest music-mixing sets in shops. If he didn't want to go have fun tonight, he'd probably mix for one of the parties. Occasionally BlackTailmon jumped through trees onto rooftops, playing an endless game to get as high as she could while staying along the route. The sun shined down on flowers and trees in full bloom, and the temperature confined itself to merely very hot (Or at least, visitors to the area always called it that. Natives found it quite comfortable.). Ari wandered if he'd ever experienced a more perfect day. The second afterwards he wondered if he just brought down bad karma and the wrath of God.

It didn't seem so, however, as BlackTailmon returned from an advanced reconnaissance reporting that they'd gotten a Frenchman to give the U.N. speech this year, and that he was even funnier than usual. Ari ran with her to go see, and found his partner exactly right. Not only did the fool use his pulpit to call for an end to the military and the basic sovereignty and protection it provided, but he dared to claim that “continuing to inspire and instigate conflict” betrayed the memory of the Catastrophe. Within minutes everyone in the audience knew what to call him. It wasn't particularly creative, but everyone thought it applied quite well. Whoever had started the wave of activity sent everyone a message on their Digivices. They would all interject their “thoughts and comments” into the speech in 3... 2... 1...

And with a great shout,

“Parisian Neo-Nazi!”

“Surrendering fool!”

The speaker tried to convince the crowd of his point by raising the image of the failed Iraqi War of the early 2000s and the man, agreed worldwide to be the worst American President, who started it, but he only managed to extract a few shouts of “Blot out his name!” from the crowd. He sighed dejectedly. He could only blame himself, having volunteered to endure this derision instead of spending Digital Day home with his family. Oy gevalt, he thought, needing to reach into a foreign language to express himself in words.

After the Moralizer's Speech, in the evening, D.J.s slowly raised the volume of their music as the holiday night slowly fell, the melodies skipping with the blood pressure of partying humans and Digimon.

BlackTailmon had some initial trouble finding a space for herself, being rather short and difficult to notice, but she handled it. Nobody really wanted that kind of injury, so BlackTailmon got to dance her heart out. After all, the circular room contained plenty of open space, even with equipment taking up the edges, for people and Digimon who didn't like getting Cat Punched.

Ari was thoroughly enjoying himself, as well. Naturally a creature of song, he'd easily adapted to the city club. He danced on the good music, and met people new and old on the bad. For tonight the speakers both whispered and blasted, singing every type and style of music ever Ari had ever heard, and a couple of older pieces he hadn't. Once, he could see BlackTailmon jump up to shoulder height on every third note, taking advantage of her Adult stage's strength.

We'll sing for love.

While what sounded like an orchestral symphony remixed into techno blasted from the speakers, Ari sat drinking a soda. That was when he heard a whipping sound. It cracked through the air, slashing at everyone's ears. At first he thought it was just part of the music. Then it came again, now with pockets of yelling. The music cut out entirely as people lost their balance and slammed into electronics. Some dropped to the ground, got into fighting stances or called their Digimon once they realized trouble had crashed the party. However, most just froze in place as they recognized the entwined sounds of gunfire and Digimon energy attacks. Ari stood up and stiffened. Someone was assaulting their Digital Day party.

A man holding a gun, with almost albino skin and wearing an unusually black soldier's uniform, strolled through the space cleared for him by his Angemon partner and made his demands softly but definitely.

“The announcement has come through from the other world that humans and Digimon will need to defend both worlds again. Anyone here who has received strange information or messages on their D3, come here. If you cooperate, hopefully I can avoid shooting you.” A hypothetical eyewitness could hear an entire club full of people and Digimon laughing. Who had heard of a man taking a dance club hostage, spouting bull about the Digital World (which everyone knew so well), and demanding people come with him in this day and age? Then another gunshot rent the air, and a woman dropped to the ground, bleeding from her left calf. People's eyes widened in shock as they realized that this man and his partner at best had extreme psychiatric problems, or at worst really meant what they said. The Angemon floated over the stunned and fearful crowds and picked up a Digimon at random by its head. It hesitated for a moment, as though trying to sense something.

“This one,” it solemnly pronounced. Angemon's victim had struggled and flailed from the first moment, but the angel Digimon maintained its hold on the smaller victim. Even though the captive Digimon was most definitely an Adult, there was too great a size difference to fight effectively.

“Lemme go you egg-colored, feathery bastard son of a whore!” Ari honestly couldn't blame the victim for their venom. But the voice sounded all too familiar. Did he know that Digimon? He couldn't identify them by sight from his distance, so the teen tried to extend his vision; he had to see who this was. The Digimon appeared small, mammalian, bipedal, black, and some...what... feline... His feet started to run all on their own, and his arms took their own leave to shove people out of the way. The attackers had his Digimon, his best friend!

“BlackTailmon!” he shouted in a deep, aggressive, but fearful voice. Now the assailants tried to shoot Ari, but the darkness of a club without working electronic lights worked against them. Putting his skills as a goalie to good use, the teenager tried to dive and slide to avoid being hit when he could. When he heard the bullet enter the wall, he got back up and kept running. Those motherfuckers would not take BlackTailmon without a fight. He'd make sure of that. Sweat dripped down his face as he ran towards the center, shoving people out of his way.

“These are them?” the gunman asked his partner. He wanted to make very sure he got the right people. Even a few injured or dead in this country had a history of provoking large military campaigns, and he still had some loyalty to the place he grew up.

“Yes,” answered the Angemon, sounding almost... satisfied, “Daemon will not have competition.” A flame of purest white began to spread down BlackTailmon's body from the angel Digimon's hand. It began to use its greatest power, given to him and his human partner by their... employer.

“Divine Prosecution!” Both afflicted Digimon and supporting human felt the burning pain and screamed. Through the white flames, small lines of electric green power began to trace their way through the dark beast Digimon's body.

“AAAGUGH!” BlackTailmon screamed, feeling her strength strip away from her. Even these strange green lines began to coil and pucker like burning paper under the assault of Angemon's power. She felt herself grow weak... she felt herself revert to Plotmon... she hoped to God, should He suddenly exist, that she would not die. Bits of data began to rise from her body.

The gunman turned around to check on his captives, and didn't at all expect Ari to jump straight at him out of the crowd and punch him in his soloplex. He was still oriented enough to point his gun straight at Ari's sorry head afterwards, however. The boy who, just 14 hours earlier, greeted the new day with smiles and hopes now redoubled his cold sweat.

Luckily for him, miracles tend to pick times exactly like these to happen. His D3 Digivice lit up, and a clear stream of blue light shot from it to the dieing Plotmon. When it reached her, it mixed with her own thrashing green energy, turning it the brilliant color of sunlight shining through leaves.

“Plotmon super-evolve to...” The luminescent green form shifted quickly and molded itself into an almost humanoid form. As the shining faded, she knew her name.

Say everything is possible!

“Bastemon.” A humanoid Digimon with some resemblance to a black Persian cat stood struggling against Angemon. Her eyes now leaf-light green as the light that birthed her, she stared into the angel Digimon face from behind her purple veil, but although she looked cocksure, she couldn't seem to figure out how to use her two tails. Nonetheless, Bastemon jumped into the air, landed a mere two feet from her foe, and began what seemed a cross between a martial-art form and a dance.

“Vampire Dance!” At about that time everyone else realized they could join in too. The fighting didn't last long.

Ari and Bastemon somehow managed to escape the swarming crowds and even the police, dashing through many turns and down many roads until they felt sure nobody could have followed. They traveled at least a kilometer. At last, tired and mainly kept going by adrenaline, the pair collapsed onto the curb. Panting, they looked at each other as their heads continued to spin.

It's not too late!

“What in the Name was that?” wondered Ari aloud. Bastemon laughed bitterly.

“Judging by the Angemon, I bet it they did do it in God's name. Humans always make up causes for things.”

“And I'm sure Daemon, who they were going to bring us to, cares. What about him, anyway?”

“He was evil, sure, but evil Digimon don't dilute their evil or try to make it seem good. Daemon just wanted to take over all of existence.”

“In which case I have proven my point. They served Daemon for some reason. How did you evolve anyway?”

“I dunno. As the Angemon tried to drain me, I felt new strength from somewhere start to vaporize with the rest of my strength. Then you started fighting and...” Rrrrrring... rrrringgg... Ari's Digivice had begun to ring like a cellular phone. “That Digivice gave me the remaining power needed to evolve. So with both, I did, because I'm your Digimon partner, I guess,” the magical feline Digimon finished. A soft but forceful voice piped in from the ringing Digivice.

“Call for Ari Frankel and Plotmon. If you can here me, the man and Digimon who attacked you were paid agents of Daemon, given money, power and safety in exchange for their work. Their superiors sent them to capture or kill you, because those superiors knew what you both are: Chosen to fight the new threat from Daemon. Come to File Island in the Digital World as soon as possible, and perhaps we can determine why Bastemon evolved as she did. The evolutionary line is... unusual.”

Dawn has risen already.

Both human and Digimon found it hard to speak after all of that, but sighed with some relief when the Digivice winked onto a dialog box saying it had recorded the message. Reality took several minutes to set in. Then Ari and Bastemon stood up and headed silently for the bus home. They couldn't go back and meet the authorities. They just couldn't.

It's a time for love.

Ari took his time on the bus to try and think, thoughts tumbling through his head like clothes in a dryer. Everyone knew of the Chosen Children, both generations, and about their respective adventures saving humanity and Digimon alike. Still, somehow the notion that he had been Chosen, and would have to go fight, didn't settle in.

He knew the national army would draft him in a few years, everyone got drafted, but the Digital World was... different. Though that “explanation” through his Digivice had nailed the tone of a draft notice. He started wondering. How many other people had been Chosen this time around? Daemon had been imprisoned, because he had too much power to fight; had they found a way to fight him by now? Or had he simply gotten out of his prison? Why did Bastemon evolve, if the “draft voice” didn't know?

Together, heart to heart, we'll open and see...

Bastemon also tried to figure out as much as she could throughout the ride. For some reason the unknown green energy, and the power that came with it, moved in front of her inner eye against her will. Had it caused her strange evolution? No, the blue power from Ari caused her evolution, as it should with a human Digidestined and their partner. So what was the green? Concentrating, she tried to follow the feeling of the power through her blood, to grasp it and demand its name. She could not psychically pinpoint it, but she noticed an uncanny spacial sense of everyone on the bus. She somehow sensed the rough composition and position of their bodies, even with her eyes closed. Suddenly, she felt a slight sense of fever upon her forehead, opened her eyes, and quickly checked her temperature and pulse. She only called it more and more peculiar that both had reverted to normal as quickly as they increased.

The light in the heavens.

Soon the bus reached its stop, and the pair got off. After about ten minutes of slow, silent walking, they reached home. Now they had to deal with Ari's parents. Mom stood outside the family's low, two-story house, almost weeping in relief as she saw her children in good health. The Digimon (Plotmon, Mom's Numemon and Dad's Gomamon) may not have been genetically related to anyone, or even human, but the family included them as well. Ari ran up and embraced his parents silently, fearing what he had to tell them.

Together, heart to heart, we'll open in hope...

“See what I said about going into the city?” asked Dad, his eyes shining, “Somebody always gets hurt. We heard about the attack on the radio. They'll investigate it, and we'll find out who the hell's ruining our holidays. Then we'll drop them in the desert.”

“Dad,” Bastemon interjected, “The desert's been receding for 80 years. Where will we drop them that's really desert?”

“And I suppose you're how Plotmon evolved?” the father demanded, “So what if the desert recedes! There's still some left.” Mom groaned.

“Come inside before someone gets a sunburn or starts a real argument!” Together the five walked through the front door. Gomamon snickered.

“Whichever comes first.”

For love.

After a quick quiz from their parents, punctually followed by one from both the “parental” Digimon, Ari and Bastemon began to get ready for bed. Ari quickly slipped into a clean set of pajamas and washed so had could get to something he felt more important: packing. A duffel bag came out of the closet and began to receive all manner of items: toothbrushes, clothing, deodorant, and a metal baseball bat the young Chosen hoped he could hit things with. Bastemon walked in from her own shower completely dry, because her's and Ari's room lay at the end of a long hallway. The walking evaporated the last few drops of water.

“When and how,” she asked quietly as she sat down on the floor next to her packing partner, “shall we break it to them?” Ari stopped and looked to his partner, frowning. Right now their parents were out talking to other families who were at, or whose children were at, the same club as Ari and Bastemon. They hoped to figure out who to go after. What they would go after that person with, they weren't sure of, but they would certainly go after them.

“I suppose we'll just make it sound like we've been drafted early. Still, it's going to be tough.”

“But didn't you want to leave home?”

“All kids do, but going to the Digital World as a Chosen Child is much different from going to the army with everyone else. I won't know anybody, or even be among people from the same country.” Bastemon turned around and fired a glare straight into Ari's blue-green eyes, unable to believe her ears.

“You'll damn well know me.”

“Well of course I'll know you,” Ari stuttered, “We're partners.”

“Yeah, and that means you'll know me.” The boy felt his throat clutch up; Bastemon was making an ocean from a cup of water. Wait... What was that look? She seemed turned inwards, probing herself for an answer to some question.

Ari asked, “You're nervous. What's wrong?”

“I've felt funny since that bus ride. I was trying to figure out my evolution, and then I felt a fever, and all the people seemed more massive, somehow.” Ari scooted a little closer and put his hand to the feline Digimon's forehead, checking for ailment.

“You seem fine.” He checked the rest of her face, to be sure. The verdict stood.

“You still seem fine. Maybe you just need to rest?” Bastemon felt glad Ari was right here for her. They could do anything together, even be Chosen Children. Maybe even come out of it alive.

And if only we believe...

On a renegade impulse, she leaned over to her partner, lifted the veil covering her face, and kissed him. She'd seen humans doing it all the time, and some Digimon had picked up the practice also. Somehow, it seemed appropriate. Besides, she liked taking Ari by surprise.

Indeed, Ari's eyes widened in shock, until he decided to kiss back. He slipped his arms around his partner, embracing her. After a moment, the two broke apart. Ari smiled in astonishment.

“You look really human without that veil,” he said.

“Humans have cat ears, two tails and fur?” claimed Bastemon with a smirk.

Ari puts his arms around her again and said, “For purposes of human stuff like this, you're human.” With that he brushed aside a lock of red hair from her face and kissed her again. This time the two kissed passionately, entwining their tongues.

After a slight push, Bastemon laid down, with Ari following. They both quickly closed their eyes, feeling no need for sight. Each now felt the other's hands slither over their body, with both of Bastemon's long, prehensile tails binding her to her partner.

Soon her left hand found its way to a certain solid protrusion from Ari's pajama pants. She gave the fabric a halfhearted rub, not really knowing what to do. Since she didn't live full-time in the Digital World, she'd never been with a male Digimon.

Nobody noticed the Digivice display a pale green symbol, composed of a straight lines forming a design inside two concentric circles.

Nobody noticed the moonlight shining through the window, either, as every drop of stress and fear from the previous day evaporated from Ari and Bastemon. The teen disrobed Bastemon from the top down – inexpertly since he'd only done this a couple times – revealing what few square centimeters of her breasts had remained covered. He looked at the half-a-bra and belt of fabric he just removed, puzzled.

“Why do human-looking Digimon walk around in such skimpy clothes?” he stopped and asked. Bastemon sighed at her poor friend. Wasn't it obvious?

“Because Digimon have no taboo on nudity.” This didn't make sense to Ari.

“Then why don't you walk around naked? Why do you evolve skimpy, dare I say sexy, clothes instead of none at all?” Bastemon thought for a moment about how to explain it. Then she reached down, fiddled with the heart-shaped buckle at her waist, and began to kick off her pants. The leopard-skin material slid off relatively easily, revealing humanoid, beautiful black-furred legs ending in powerful claw-feet. Ari stared, attempting to contemplate how lucky he was, until he noticed something strange. A small spot on Bastemon's pelvis had swollen, making the slit through its middle very prominent.

“We Digimon never knew why we had this... anatomy either,” Bastemon purred, “until contact with the human world became common. Then we learned we come from data on your internet.” Ari laughed at the utter simplicity of it.

“That explains everything,” the twosome chorused.

and without no mucking around.

Bastemon finished his thought, “And that's why we can have sooo much fun.” Her voice was low, and Ari knew she wanted to begin. He removed his clothes and took care to show off his well-developed body in the process. Even non-competitive football after school and on weekends payed off, showing somewhat defined muscles on his chest, arms and legs. He was no Olympian, but he still kept healthy and looked O.K.

As he leaned in towards his Digimon, he whispered into her ear, “Do you know what to do?”

“Actually, no. I guess I don't.”

“It's fine, I'll handle it.” The human teen hadn't gone all the way before, he was improvising. But he'd fooled around with girlfriends and had some vague ideas what to do. He crawled over to Bastemon and kissed her. As the pair started making out again, Ari brought his lower body over towards his lover's. He eased the head of his eager cock into his partner's entrance and stopped to savor the feeling. At least he did, until one of Bastemon's tails constricted around his waist like a python, pulling him into her to the hilt. He broke their kiss panting.

On the road ahead...

“You don't have a hymen? No pain?” Bastemon licked his cheek incredulously, tapping her feline side.

“Internet, remember? Digimon sex organs are built for enjoyment.” A speck of annoyance flickered across her face. “Now,” she said surprisingly forcefully, “I don't want to lie down.” Together the pair stood up, Ari humping once involuntarily. Suddenly, Bastemon jumped and curled her legs around her partner, practically attaching herself to him.

She whispered into his ear, “Now let's do it.”

The young Chosen swayed a few times under the increased weight, but the strength of both human and Digi-womon balanced the two. Now Ari could hold himself and his partner up. He started thrusting, feeling Bastemon squeezing herself against his body and letting go in rhythm. A spare hand made its way upwards, kneading the (very humanoid, in this regard) Digimon's breasts.

Within minutes, they both hit orgasm. Ari came first, but used his very last strength to bring his partner over the edge. As they broke apart, Bastemon finally devolved to Plotmon.

Fighting off a yawn, he told her, “I think we'll be OK in the Digital World, if we can fight as well as we did that. Just don't devolve like that if you want to go again.” He didn't bother to fight as Plotmon walked over and slapped him playfully.

Human preferences aside, she thought, she always stayed the same inside. So did he, really. They'd be together as long as they lived, no matter what form she took. At least, Plotmon hoped so. She figured Ari did as he got up, staggered over to bed, pulled his pajamas back on clumsily, and got into bed.

It is a song for love.

Still, nobody noticed the Digivice streaming a spasmodic flow of soft green light into its closet from the pocket of a discarded pair of shorts. The pair went nervously to sleep without seeing or hearing the Digivice's warning. Daemon would have competition.

Here are full lyrics to the song used in this story, "Yachad" ('Together') by Gaya, transliterated from the original. A single quote (') indicates an end-of-syllable. Don't worry that it's unpronouncable, as I can send anyone who wants it an MP3 :-). Warning: Under no circumstance attend a concert where Gaya plays this song. Those are mostly used for brainwashing; I first heard this song on CD.

Yachad (Shir La'Ahavah)

Together (A Song for Love)

[Opening slowly]

Yachad -

lev el lev, niftach vih'nir'eh

ta'or shebashamayim.

Yachad -

lev el lev, niftach bih-tikvah - la'ahavah.

[Normal tempo]

Ech shehalev niftach

chovek yad la'olam,

uvikriah g'dolah

nashir la'ahavah.

Imru hakol efshar.

Zeh lo mih'uchar.

Haschachar kvar alah.

Zeh zman la'avahah.

[Chorus]

Yachad -

lev el lev, niftach vih'nir'eh

ta'or shebashamayim.

Yachad -

lev el lev, niftach bih-tikvah - la'ahavah.

Vih'rak im na'amin,

uvli shum da'awin,

Baderech ha'olah,

zeh shir la'ahava.

[Sing first two verses again.]

[Chorus]

[Sing last verse again.]

[Chorus]

[Last verse, slowing down to the end.]