Chapter 3: A Gentle Heart's Aversion
Training. Always more training. For as long as she could remember, Nyaromon's world had been defined by the harsh regimen Elecmon enforced.
She understood, on some level, that he was trying to make her stronger, to prepare her for the dangers of the world. But that understanding did little to soothe the ache in her data-spun body or the weariness in her spirit. Nyaromon simply couldn't bring herself to like it.
She hated pain. And battle, in all its chaotic forms, was nothing but a promise of pain.
With every mock battle, every forced confrontation, a piece of her will chipped away, eroded by a constant pressure she couldn't comprehend. She couldn't find a reason to fight. She couldn't see the path everyone else seemed to walk with such certainty. Her young life as a Digimon was a haze of confusion, a question without an answer.
This continued, day after weary day, until one morning—
A strange feeling, like an unseen thread pulling at her very code, tugged her away from the familiar grounds of the Village of Beginnings. It wasn't a conscious decision; it was as if fate itself had taken hold, guiding her paws toward an unknown destination.
And there, just beyond the village's edge, she found him. A "Digimon" unlike any she had ever seen.
Then, the world had erupted into a blur of green, chitinous armor and razor-sharp mandibles. Before she could even process the terror of a Kuwagamon's assault, her body moved on its own. A primal instinct, a desperate surge of power she didn't know she possessed, sent her hurtling forward.
By the time her senses caught up, the monstrous Champion-level Digimon was gone, driven away by a combined attack from herself and a timely-arriving Elecmon.
Thinking back, she supposed that was the first real victory of her life.
But Nyaromon felt no thrill, no surge of pride. The emptiness remained. She was still the same Digimon who hated conflict, who flinched from the very idea of pain.
But then, as the adrenaline faded, a whisper reached her ears, cutting through the silence.
"Thank you."
"!"
That simple phrase, uttered by the strange being just before he collapsed, sparked something new within her. It was a warmth, a gentle current that flowed through her data. To her, those two small words were sweeter, more fulfilling, than any fruit of victory she could imagine.
But she was still so young, and the depth of that feeling was a mystery she couldn't yet unravel.
— — — —
Unlike the night sky of the human world, long since washed out by the glare of sprawling cities, the heavens of the Digital World were a stunning spectacle. Stars pulsed like living data points, and constellations of binary code drifted lazily across an abyss of pure, clear darkness. Bathed in this ethereal light, even the heaviest of hearts felt a little lighter.
Mizuki watched the small, timid Digimon beside him, her large ears twitching nervously. He blinked, offering a gentle smile, and asked in a soft voice, "Nyaromon, may I sit here?"
"...Y-yes... you may."
Her ears twitched again, and her long tail swished back and forth, a restless pendulum of uncertainty. Still, she nodded, giving him permission.
In truth, Nyaromon had been secretly observing Mizuki ever since he'd woken up. Part of it was the natural curiosity of her species, but a larger part was a desire to understand the warmth she'd felt from his gratitude.
'He was the very first one,'she thought, her gaze fixed on him.'The first Digimon to ever thank me.'
"I'm not a Digimon," Mizuki said, his voice laced with quiet amusement. "I'm a human."
"Eh?!"
His sudden response made her jump. Nyaromon stared at him, her pink eyes wide with shock.
Meeting her startled gaze, Mizuki's smile widened slightly. "It was written all over your face."
Nyaromon's own face flushed. "..."
After a moment of stunned silence, the little Digimon, realizing she'd been read like an open book, said nothing more. Instead, she simply curled her fluffy tail up and over her eyes, as if to hide from his perceptive gaze.
Seeing her shy gesture, Mizuki's heart softened. "Sorry, sorry," he said quickly. "Did I bother you?"
'Yes,'her mind screamed.'You're a strange being who can read my thoughts!'
"N-no... not at all," she squeaked out, a classic case of her mouth saying the exact opposite of her heart.
For the painfully shy Nyaromon, managing even this much conversation with a stranger was a significant step forward. But after that, she fell silent again, the quiet stretching between them.
Normally, Mizuki might have respected her silence and not pushed further. But now, something was different. He could almost feel the shape of her thoughts, the unspoken words hovering in the air.
'This silence isn't unwillingness,'he realized, watching her from the corner of his eye.'She just doesn't know how to start a conversation. She actually wants to keep talking...'Feeling her gaze constantly darting toward him and then away, Mizuki nodded to himself.'Alright then. I guess it's my job to find a topic.'
He cleared his throat gently. "Nyaromon, I know I've said it twice already, but I can't help but want to say it again—"
He paused, making sure he had her full attention.
"Thank you for saving me from that Kuwagamon. I'm only here, breathing this air, because you were brave enough to step in." He let out a small, genuine laugh. "Seriously, you're amazing. To be able to drive off a terrifying monster that huge."
Mizuki spoke freely, letting his gratitude flow. It wasn't flattery; every word was sincere.
Listening to him, that pleasant, warm feeling bloomed in Nyaromon's chest again. She wanted to bask in it, to savor the novel sensation of being appreciated for something other than her fighting potential. But before she could, his last words made her mood plummet.
'It's always this...'she thought, her ears beginning to droop.'Defeating enemies, being strong... why does everyone care so much about that? Doesn't fighting just bring pain?''If it were anyone else, I wouldn't care. But why you, too—'
The memory of Mizuki collapsing, wounded and unconscious, flashed through her mind. Before she could stop herself, the words tumbled out, a raw and honest confession. "It's not amazing at all..."
"Fighting... I hate it more than anything."
"...!"
The moment the words left her mouth, Nyaromon froze, all the fur on her body standing on end. She saw the surprise in Mizuki's eyes and her heart sank. Her ears drooped completely, and she spoke in a small, self-deprecating voice. "Heh... you heard me..."
"That's right. I really, really hate fighting."
She lowered her head, unable to meet his gaze. "What do you think? You must think I'm pathetic, don't you...?"
Nyaromon braced herself for the usual response—a lecture, a disappointed sigh, words just like Elecmon's. But what came next shattered all her expectations.
"I see..." Mizuki's voice was soft, filled not with judgment, but with regret. "I'm sorry, Nyaromon. I wasn't considering your feelings."
He first offered a sincere apology, then followed it with genuine validation.
"As for you being pathetic? That thought never even crossed my mind," he said firmly. "Life is about continuing, about surviving. Fighting can be a way to protect that, but it can also be the very thing that ends it all. So, hating something that can take everything away... a thought like that is anything but ridiculous."
Mizuki paused, his gaze softening with a deep understanding that seemed to see right into her soul.
"In fact, it means you're a very gentle Digimon, Nyaromon."
— —!
Staring at the young man before her, Nyaromon felt her world stop. His words echoed in her core, not as empty comfort, but as true, deep understanding. She could feel the sincerity radiating from him, a warmth that had nothing to do with battle and everything to do with acceptance.
In that moment, her good impression of Mizuki solidified into something much deeper.
'He really is different.'
The first... human... to ever thank her.
And the first person to ever truly understand her.
— — — —
Meanwhile, not far away, two figures stood watching from the shadows.
"Chief Elecmon, is this really alright?"
"What is?" Elecmon replied without turning, his gaze fixed on the distant scene.
Monodramon shifted nervously beside him. "Letting Nyaromon stay alone with that strange... being."
The small dragon Digimon's eyes were filled with worry. "She's one of the only Digimon in the Village of Beginnings who has shown the potential for Holy-type power at her In-Training stage."
He lowered his voice. "Devimon has been targeting Holy-type Digimon all over File Island recently, hasn't he?"
"If—"
"I understand your concern," Elecmon interrupted, finally turning to face him. "But it's fine."
He shook his head, a confident look on his face. Just as he was about to explain, his expression changed. The pupils of his large, reptilian eyes contracted into sharp slits. An imperceptible ripple in the fabric of the Digital World had just washed over them, a tremor of wrongness that set his every instinct on edge.
Without another word, Elecmon spun around and bolted, a streak of purple lightning rushing back toward the clearing where Nyaromon sat.
"Chief Elecmon?!"
Koromon and Monodramon exchanged a stunned glance, the sudden urgency catching them completely off guard. Then, without hesitation, they scrambled to follow.
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