Good Morning Starshine - Biyomon's Story

    I'm not a night creature by nature.  My eyes aren't meant to penetrate that darkness that covers us all like a smothering blanket whenever the sun goes down.  Flying at night is always difficult, too, for birds rely heavily on their eyesight.  The world is a scary place at night, when you can't see anything around you, can't see the night animals that come out to prowl the world, on the ground and in the air.  You just sit tight, listening and watching what you can, in awe and in fear of the creatures who live and thrive in the blackness.  And eventually, you get to sleep.

    That's when you're alone, anyway.  But when there's someone to keep you company, it's another story altogether.

    Tonight's pretty chilly, although still warm for autumn.  You wouldn't want to be staying outside for too long, especially not without a good two layers of clothing.  There was no wind, though, for which I was very grateful; in my years of wandering I'd spent all too much time being buffeted by heavy winds.  This is a special night in a lot of ways: the air is calm, the temperature's comfortable, I can see the stars.

    I'm not afraid.

    And most importantly, I'm not alone.

    For years and years now I've been lonely.  Oh, sure, I saw other people.  I sheltered in with friends during the worst of winter's chill, with Palmon or Agumon or Gomamon.  Gomamon most of all.  I went to him when I was in real trouble - and I don't just mean the weather.  Palmon has always been a great friend, but it's Gomamon I went to when I felt that I just couldn't stand things any more.

    Despite Sora's and Yamato's union, Gabumon and I had never liked each other a whole lot.  It's not like we fought or anything - we just didn't care about each other much.  Not like Sora cared about Yamato... or I do about Gomamon.  I hadn't spent much time with him before I'd left Sora, but once I was on my own I felt almost drawn to him.  Love isn't something that digimon are supposed to think about or worry about; not the way I loved Gomamon, anyway.  But I love him all the same.

    As much as I loved Goma, though, I could never settle down there with the Kido family.  I felt like too much of an outsider in their house.  Sora had become estranged from the other digidestined even before Yamato's death; I felt like I was some uncomfortable reminder of her, of the rift that she had put between herself and the others.  Besides, it was weird being in a house without her.  I don't like to be where I can't see the sky.

    So I would take off, again and again, wandering about the wilderness, in search of something that didn't exist, that I couldn't even put a name to, that I knew I'd never find.  By day I flew, only stopping to drink or eat what sparse food I could find.  At night I would find a tree and hunker down, hemmed in by the unfamiliar darkness.  I hated the darkest nights, when the sky would cloud over and there wasn't a speck of light to comfort the irrational fears that filled my head.

    On very rare occasions I would find a clear area where there wasn't much I could crash into, and then I would fly in the darkness, with just the stars and sometimes the moon to guide me through.  There was something special about that loneliness, the familiarity of flying combined with the unknown and terrifying darkness and the lights and the sky that were so distant, and yet so alive.

    The stars are dancing in the sky tonight, as well as a strangely shaped moon.  When people think of the moon they usually think of a circle, a semicircle or a think crescent.  This was different, somewhere between a half-circle and a full one.  It's not shapely or poetic, not the sort of thing you'd want to include in a painting.  Yet to me, there is something beautiful about it all the same.

    Sora thinks so too.  We're sitting on the steps of her house now.  Or rather, she's sitting and I'm on her knees, with her arms around my middle.  I don't imagine I'm very comfortable to be hugging; all those days out in the wild have made me thinner and hardier than I used to be, but she doesn't seem to care.  We just sit there in silence, rejoicing in being together again, under the overwhelming tapestry of stars and an oddly-shaped moon.

    We've done a lot of talking today.  Now we're finished with words.

    I had no idea when I woke up this morning that it was going to be such a wonderful day.  I hadn't been anywhere near Sora since Yamato's funeral.  I had stayed carefully hidden throughout the entire ceremony, although sometimes it was all I could do to keep myself from leaping out into the open and telling everyone that I was here, alive and well.

    At one point Sora walked right past me.  I looked right up at her, at her face, streaked with tears.  She looked so old right then, much older than the fifty-three years I knew she should be.  Or was that fifty-four?  I'll have to ask somebody later.  It wouldn't do to show that I couldn't remember my partner's name.  I saw her then and I wanted so badly to fly out, into her arms, to be with her, to share that grief.  I was grieving too, for I had liked Yamato a lot and Gabumon was my friend, if nothing else.

    But then I caught a whiff of perfume, saw the shoes and jacket she wore that just oozed style, and remembered why I had left in the first place.  That wasn't the girl I loved back there.  That was the Sora who tried too hard.  The one who changed too much for me to bear.  That wasn't my partner, just a pathetic ghost of her former self.

    How could I be so stupid?

    I missed her and she missed me and we were both miserable without each other.  When she needed me the most, when her children and her friends and the one she loved were all gone, I still held back.  I still refused to forgive her for that stupid argument, still told myself that that wasn't the girl I wanted to be with, that if she'd wanted me she would have tried to find me again.

    I was wrong, though.  I was just kidding myself if I really thought that mattered.  In my heart of hearts I knew that it was Sora I wanted to be with, any Sora, if only it could be her.  I left her to wander the world once more, night after lonely night.  I couldn't believe that it wasn't my fault that I was flying alone.

    But one blessed morning, I got a second chance.

   I woke from another miserable night in the darkness, willing myself to stir from my sleeping place.  It was getting increasingly difficult to rouse myself in the mornings; it's a bit hard to get coffee out in the wild.  It was a cold, cloudy morning, too, which made flying difficult.  Eventually, though, I got into the air and resumed my aimless flight.  I flew low to the ground, as it was difficult to fly high while in my Rookie form.  I was envious when I saw an eagle in the sky as I bobbed and weaved through the forest.

   I liked this forest, though.  There was something comfortable about it, like I was slipping back into a part of the world that was custom-made for me.  Like I belonged.  It seemed so alive, even under the grey skies.  I coasted through the trees as though I was being guided by an unseen force.

   Then I found her.

   Sora was sitting up in a tree, wearing a ragged pair of jeans and an old woollen jumper.  No makeup, no perfume, no styling.  She seemed different again from what I had seen at Yamato's funeral - younger, somehow.  The Sora I remembered from long ago.

   Suddenly I was tired of wandering, tired of constantly trying to stay away from her.  I realised at once how stupidly I'd been acting for all these years.  I went right up to her; I can't even remember what we said then.  Words didn't matter, though.  We were together again, after all this time.  I digivolved into Birdramon and we flew right through the clouds, up into the sunlight.

   The two of us have been busy today, making up for all the lost years.  We talked and laughed, exchanged stories, reminisced.  We cleaned out the house and did some baking.  She told me about Midori's move to Kyoto and Toshio's job as a naturalist.  I told her about the people I'd visited, and about Gomamon.

   We've also talked about going to see the other Chosen Children again, reforging all those friendships.  Sora even discussed another reunion, like the one we all had in 2027.  We wouldn't all be together again - the group would never be complete without Yamato and Gabumon.  Memories of them didn't have to be painful, though.  They weren't painful, they were happy.  Most of them, anyway.  We didn't need to romanticise it all, turn it into a tale of pain and longing and regret.  The true story is a happy one.

    Just like ours has finally become.

    A tiny wisp of a breeze wafts past us, touching my feathers as lightly as a tiny paintbrush.  I barely felt it, really; it was nothing compared to what I had been through in recent years, huge gales that were more like brooms trying to sweep you out into the rubbish heap.  It was just a touch, but I suddenly felt exhausted, yawning and blinking owlishly.  Sora moved around uncomfortably, then leaned forward a little.

    "Biyomon?"

    "Mmm?"

    "Do you think it's about time we went to sleep now?"

    I looked at the moon again.  It was lingering out towards the west now.  Not that that was any indication of the time; the moon doesn't stick to the day-and-night regime that the sun does.  It had been in sight since mid-afternoon.

    "Yes, I think that would be good." I agreed.  Sora hugged me to her and stood up, heading towards the house, to her room.  I hesitated and fluttered out of her arms, looking back out at the veranda, and the sky beyond.  Dark nights had been the norm for so long now; I wasn't quite ready to leave that wilderness.  Almost - I'd sleep inside tomorrow - but not just yet.

   "What's the hammock there for?" I asked.

   "Sometimes in summer, when it gets really hot, I like to sleep out there," she told me. "It'd be a bit cold tonight, though."

   "But you have some blankets, don't you?"

   "Yes, I do," she nodded, with an affectionate smile.

   It didn't take us long to drag out some blankets and a pillow.  Sora climbed carefully into the hammock, wrapping the blankets around her.  I curled up on her stomach before she threw a blanket over me, too.  It felt strange, but not bad.  I let it go.

   The positions of the stars in the sky change throughout the year, because of Earth's rotation around the sun.  The seasons in the northern and southern hemispheres are always different, because of the tilt of earth's axis.  But the moon, though it waxes and wanes, looks the same from every single point on the globe.  The moon floating in the dark sky now looks the same as the one I saw last night, when I was all alone.  It's the one Gomamon and Palmon would be looking at right now.  It's the same as the digidestined in other countries would see at night.

   It would look the same if I was spending tonight alone in the woods, lost in the foreign world of night.  But the darkness seems comfortable and familiar now.  The moon shines on a happy pair, not a lost bird who cowers in fright and feels painfully alone.

   Falling asleep, happy and content, knowing you're safe and you're loved.  I don't ever want to spend the night alone again.