Mimi stood frozen, her hands clasped tightly before her chest as she watched the training field below, horror slowly dawning on her delicately beautiful face. Her normally bright eyes were wide, reflecting the sight that played out in front of her — the cracked earth, the crimson splatters of blood, the groans of pain from battered Digimon partners as they were pushed to their limits under Piximon's merciless sparring.
Raikomaru had only just been carried off the field, half-conscious, his small body trembling in Naruto's arms. Despite the strange transformation Naruto had conjured, the sheer brutality of the battle had shaken Mimi to her core.
This wasn't training — it was carnage. And she was supposed to send Alaya — her sweet, elegant, darling Palmon — into that?
"I… I can't," Mimi whispered, her voice barely audible above the crackle of the wind and the whispering grass. "This is… this is barbaric."
Her fists trembled. The idea of Alaya's vibrant green vines being shredded, her gentle petals bruised, her smiling face twisted in agony — it twisted something deep inside Mimi. It was unnatural. Unthinkable.
Her legs faltered beneath her. She didn't care if the others were watching. If Matt or Tai thought her weak — let them. She had never liked fighting. She had never asked for this.
Alaya, however, stood beside her in silence, the breeze rustling her leaves as her crimson eyes regarded her human partner with a quiet understanding far older than her small form should have held.
Then, gently, she reached up and took Mimi's hand.
Mimi looked down, startled — and found herself met by a steady, patient gaze. Alaya didn't speak right away. She simply held her hand, grounding her. Reminding her that she wasn't alone.
"Mimi," she said softly, her voice filled with both warmth and quiet strength. "I know this is hard. I know it hurts to even think about me getting hurt. But… we have to do this. You saw what happened to Raiko, to Joe and Daiki — this world won't wait for us to be ready. It demands we grow stronger."
Mimi bit her lip, feeling the sting of tears behind her eyes. "But I don't want to sacrifice you to grow stronger…"
"You're not sacrificing me," Alaya said gently. "You're trusting me. You don't need to protect me from pain — just stand by me when I face it. I want to protect you too, you know. I want to be strong — for both of us."
Mimi's lips trembled. Her heart felt torn in half.
But then Alaya's next words fell like sunlight through the fog.
"If Joe can do it… and Raiko can do it… then surely, the most powerful Mimi in the world can do it too."
Mimi stared.
Her breath hitched in her throat — and to her own surprise, she laughed. A small, helpless, and very real laugh.
Alaya was right.
She had promised to help everyone. She had sworn — with her own two hands pressed to her heart — that she would do whatever it took to return them home, to make sure none of them were left behind. If she backed down now, how could she ever face them again?
She turned her gaze toward the others — Matt, his eyes steely with determination; Tai, grinning as always, but with worry in the crease of his brow; TK, clutching Patamon nervously, and even Izzy, adjusting his goggles in quiet anticipation.
They were all scared in their own way. But they were doing it.
And she was Mimi Tachikawa. She didn't cower. Not really.
She looked back down at Alaya, who still held her hand. Their eyes met, and in that moment — something ignited.
A flicker of power.
A resonance.
A promise, awakened and accepted.
"I won't run," Mimi whispered, voice trembling but sure. "I'll keep my word. I'll fight… not because I want to, but because I have to."
A warm, golden light flared around her chest. Her Crest of Sincerity shimmered into view — soft, radiant, and pulsing with life. The light danced around Alaya, threading through her vines and petals, and the little Palmon smiled.
The others turned, feeling the surge of energy, their faces lighting with a mix of surprise and pride.
Piximon hovered above, silent and unreadable — but the faintest curve touched the corner of his mouth.
Mimi's heart thudded in her chest, but it no longer felt heavy.
She squeezed Alaya's hand.
"Let's show them," she said quietly. "The strength of the most fabulous, most sincere team in the Digital World."
---------------------------
There was a hush across the field as Mimi stepped forward.
Her footsteps were light, yet each one seemed to echo like a drumbeat in the silent, watching crowd. Her glossy brown hair caught the wind, strands whipping gently around her cheeks, but her eyes — once filled with horror — now gleamed with quiet, fragile courage.
She stood at the edge of the sparring platform, her hand trembling slightly as it reached toward her partner.
"Alaya," she whispered.
The little Palmon turned at once, her ruby-red eyes searching Mimi's, and in that glance was something unspoken. A connection — forged in every shared laugh, every tear, every time Mimi had combed her petals or held her close under the stars.
"I'm ready," Alaya said, her voice calm. "Let's do it."
The Crest of Sincerity still shimmered on Mimi's chest, a warm green light that danced like the first rays of dawn. And then, in a flash of viridian energy, Alaya's form glowed, grew — and burst into light.
"Palmon, evolve to…"
A whirlwind of leaves exploded around them.
"Togemon!"
A cactus the size of a house landed on the platform with a heavy thud, her boxing gloves clenched, her expression fierce. Her needles bristled, and a floral ribbon fluttered around her head like a warrior's bandana.
Mimi gasped, shielding her face from the swirl of energy. When she looked again, her heart nearly swelled out of her chest.
"You look amazing," she breathed, awe and fear tangled in her voice.
Togemon turned, her eyes kind. "Then let's make it count."
From the sky descended Piximon — hovering with quiet grace, his wings whispering with each slow beat. His eyes, deep and unreadable, settled on the new challenger. There was no malice in his expression — only the patient, immutable gaze of a teacher waiting to see if the student could endure the lesson.
Without a word, the battle began.
"Needle Spray!" Togemon roared, launching a barrage of gleaming spikes toward Piximon.
They flashed through the air, fast and sharp — but Piximon spun mid-air, and in an instant, was gone.
Mimi's eyes widened. "Behind you—!"
Before she could finish, Togemon was struck — a blur of light and wind slammed into her side. She staggered back, her great arms raised in defense.
"Mach Punch!" she countered, fists flying, her boxing gloves a blur — but Piximon was gone again, his form zipping through the air like a leaf in a storm.
From above, he struck with lightning and wind, a storm of raw elemental fury that sent Togemon crashing into the ground.
Mimi's breath caught. "No… no, get up, please get up—!"
Togemon groaned, her needles cracked, her body scorched and battered.
Mimi raised her hand, her fingers glowing with the green shimmer of her crest.
"Enhance Recovery!" she cried.
A soft glow surrounded Togemon, mending the worst of her wounds — just enough to let her rise again.
Togemon didn't speak. She clenched her fists. Grit her teeth. And charged.
Punch after punch, spore after spore — Sleep Spore, Poison Spore, even Root Control that cracked the earth beneath Piximon's feet — but nothing slowed him for long. He weaved between the spores, blinked through portals, and answered each effort with a counterattack that sent shockwaves through the ground.
And yet — Togemon didn't stop.
Each time she fell, Mimi raised her hand.
"Speed boost — now!"
"Defense — hold on!"
Again and again, the green light of sincerity flared — but it couldn't stop the hurt. It couldn't stop the bruises, the bleeding, the way Togemon's breathing became ragged, her movements sluggish.
And still — she kept going.
Each strike she received, she grunted through. Each blow that shattered her guard, she pushed past.
Because she had to.
Because Mimi was watching.
Mimi trembled.
Her hands were shaking now, pressed over her heart. Her voice caught in her throat as she saw Togemon crumple again — blood dripping from her side, one arm hanging limp.
"Piximon — stop—!" she started to shout.
But then she saw it.
Togemon — looking up at her. Not in desperation. Not begging.
Just… looking.
Their eyes met.
And in that moment, Mimi understood.
This wasn't about winning.
This was about not giving up.
This was about standing — for as long as one could stand — because to fall too early would mean they weren't ready. Because in the real world, there wouldn't be someone to call the battle off.
She bit her lip.
Her heart was screaming.
But she stepped back.
"I trust you," she whispered, even as her voice broke. "Alaya, I… I trust you. Please… show them. Show me."
Togemon's face twisted — and then, she smiled.
A small, battered, almost broken smile.
But one filled with pride.
"Thanks," she whispered hoarsely. "Now watch me."
With a roar, she charged one last time — her body glowing faintly, fists blazing with green fire, needles rising like spears. It was a desperate attack — a last stand. And Piximon met it, head-on.
The final blow sent her flying, crashing across the field with a thunderous thud. Dust billowed into the air.
Silence.
Then — a cough. A groan.
Togemon sat up.
Barely.
Bruised. Battered. Bleeding.
But smiling.
Piximon landed beside her, his staff quietly tapping the ground.
"Well done," he said at last. "You didn't win. But you endured."
Mimi ran to the field, dropping to her knees beside her partner.
The others watched in silence — touched, awed, and perhaps, a little bit ashamed of ever doubting Mimi.
Piximon floated back, eyes unreadable.
But if one looked closely, just for a second — there was a twinkle there.
The Sincerity within them both had been tested.
And it had not been found wanting.
--------------------------
The battle had ended.
The last echoes of clashing energy and heavy grunts faded into a stunned hush. Alaya — who had fought fiercely as Togemon — now lay weakly in Mimi's arms, her body shivering, scraped, and battered. The needles from her evolved form had long vanished. What remained was a trembling little Palmon, her once vibrant leaves drooping like a flower after a storm.
Mimi knelt on the ground, frozen, clutching her partner like a porcelain doll that might shatter if she let go. Tears traced silent paths down her cheeks. Her perfectly manicured fingers — once proud of their lack of blemish — were streaked with dirt and smudged with blood.
She hadn't screamed during the battle, though her heart had begged her to. She hadn't run to stop it, though every part of her soul had shrieked that it was too much, too cruel. She had let it happen, and now she didn't know if she'd made the right choice.
Soft footsteps approached behind her. Not loud. Not heavy. But steady.
"Hey," Naruto's voice said, not loud, just enough to reach her through the fog in her head. "You okay?"
She looked up, eyes red. Naruto stood a few feet away, scuffed from his own spar, his bright orange jacket stained with mud and grass. His spiky blond hair fluttered a little in the breeze, and his face looked serious — not the usual loud, boastful Naruto she was used to hearing in the background.
"I…" Mimi started, voice trembling. "I should've stopped it. I should've… she was hurting, and I just stood there—"
"No, you didn't," Naruto said firmly. "You trusted her."
Mimi blinked. "But she was in pain! I was scared! What if I made her go through all that for nothing?"
Naruto's shoulders rose and fell as he crouched beside her, his hands resting on his knees.
"I get it," he said. "When I was training, there were times I thought I'd die. There was this guy named Zabuza. He was a real scary ninja. Cold. Strong. He almost… I thought we'd all get wiped out."
Mimi sniffled. "What happened?"
"I was terrified," Naruto said honestly, looking away. "But then I remembered… if I quit, I'd never be able to protect anyone. I had to fight, even if it was hopeless."
He looked back at her, his blue eyes burning a little. "And then in the exams, this creepy guy named Orochimaru showed up. He was like a nightmare. But I stayed. I didn't run. Because Sasuke and Sakura needed me."
Mimi stared at him, wide-eyed. This boy — the loud one, the brash one, the one always boasting about being Hokage — had faced monsters.
Naruto looked at Palmon and softened. "She fought, Mimi. Even though it hurt. She didn't give up. You didn't force her. You believed in her. That's what partners do."
Palmon stirred weakly in her arms. Her voice was barely more than a breath, but it was clear.
"Mimi… I wanted to fight. You didn't make me. You believed in me…"
Tears welled again in Mimi's eyes — but not from guilt. From something warmer, deeper.
"I was so scared," she whispered. "I thought I was being selfish. I'm not like Tai or Sora or even Joe. I don't like pain. I don't like… all this…"
Naruto nodded. "No one likes it. But we do it anyway. 'Cause we have to."
He smiled then — not the usual cheeky grin, but a real one, small and kind.
"You were brave today, Mimi. And she was too."
Mimi looked at Palmon, then at Naruto. "Do you… do you really think I can be strong?"
"You already are," he said simply. "And if anyone says otherwise, I'll punch 'em."
Mimi gave a watery laugh — the first sound of joy she'd made in hours.
Palmon whispered, "You're the strongest partner I could ever want."
And for the first time, Mimi believed it.
There were still battles to come. There would still be pain. But in that moment — holding Palmon, with Naruto beside her — she felt something solid form in her chest.
Not pride. Not even confidence.
Something better.
Hope.
--------------------
The wind had picked up slightly, brushing across the battlefield with the soft rustling of leaves. Most of the group's attention was shifting to the next match, their voices hushed with anticipation. Mimi, still cradling Palmon—Alaya—close, reluctantly turned her eyes to the ring as the next tamer stepped forward. She looked back once more, her lips moving in a silent promise before she stood and walked away to join the others.
That left Naruto and Alaya alone in the shade of a twisted old tree, the soft scent of crushed grass and dust hanging in the air.
Naruto sat beside her without a word at first. His presence was warm and unintrusive, like a steady fire on a cold night. Alaya lay there quietly, the green fronds of her head gently swaying with each breath. Her body bore the bruises of her fight — scratches across her sides, a torn leaf here, a darkening welt there — but it was the sadness in her eyes that Naruto noticed most.
"You're tougher than you look," he said gently, leaning back against the tree trunk. "A lot tougher."
Alaya blinked slowly and glanced up at him, her voice soft and hoarse. "It didn't feel like it."
Naruto chuckled lightly. "That's how it always feels the first time. Like you're just getting knocked around, and nothing you do matters. Like you're in someone else's world, someone stronger, and you're just trying to breathe."
She looked at him again, her eyes tired but curious. "You've felt like that?"
He nodded, his expression wistful now, far-off. "Back then, I was nobody. Just this loud, annoying kid with too much energy and no family. Everyone ignored me or… hated me. I used to paint over the Hokage's faces on the monument just so someone would notice I existed."
Alaya tilted her head slightly, puzzled. "That doesn't sound like you at all…"
Naruto grinned. "I was a mess," he admitted. "But then I met people who believed in me — just a little. Iruka-sensei, my team… and then I started getting stronger. But not because I was brave, or good. It was because I kept getting back up."
Alaya's eyes fluttered closed for a moment. "It's hard," she whispered. "I'm not a fighter. My species... we're nurturers. We help things grow. We bloom in gardens, not battlefields."
Naruto didn't say anything for a moment. Then he leaned forward, his voice low and firm.
"You were born to grow, Alaya. That's your gift. But sometimes… growth only happens when you've been buried deep. When everything's dark. And you—" he tapped her gently on the head "—you grew more today than some Digimon do in their whole lives."
She stared at him, her eyes suddenly shimmering. "But it hurt. So much. I thought I was going to break…"
He nodded. "Yeah. That's how you know it was real."
Alaya looked down at her tiny hands. "Mimi… she trusted me. She didn't stop the fight, even when I cried out in pain." Her voice shook. "And that… that made me want to stand even more. I wanted her to be proud."
"She is," Naruto said with certainty. "She'll never look at you the same way again — not because you evolved, but because you stood your ground."
Alaya was quiet for a moment.
Then, in a voice like wind through petals, she asked, "Do you think… I'll ever be able to protect her the way she protects me?"
Naruto's answer came without hesitation.
"I know you will. I've seen it before — the gentlest people always become the fiercest protectors. Because they know exactly what's at stake."
Alaya's chest rose with a deep breath. The pain still lingered, but there was a quiet resolve now blooming within her — like a seed awakening after the storm.
"Thank you," she murmured. "I needed this."
Naruto stood, brushing dirt from his knees. He glanced toward the ring, where another match was about to begin.
"No," he said with a smile. "We all needed you."
And with that, he walked back toward the others, his hands in his pockets, but his eyes flickering back once — just once — at the small green Digimon lying beneath the tree.
Alaya turned her gaze to the sky. The clouds rolled lazily above her, uncaring and vast. But in that moment, she no longer felt small beneath them.
She had endured.
And she was still growing.