Chapter 3: Aversion to Conflict is Not Weakness, But a Manifestation of Gentleness
Training... endless training. Ever since the earliest fragments of her memory formed, Nyaromon had endured Chief Elecmon's rigorous combat drills. She knew, deep down in her core data, that the electric-furred caretaker only pushed her out of a desire to keep her safe. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, Nyaromon simply could not force herself to embrace the violence.
She despised the sting of impact. She loathed the way scraped data burned against her skin.
Combat guaranteed pain. There was no escaping it.
Day after day, the relentless sparring chipped away at her spirit. She possessed no grand reason to fight, no burning ambition to light her path forward. Her existence as a Digimon felt clouded by a heavy, suffocating confusion.
That was, until the day everything shifted.
It began as a strange, pulling sensation in her chest. An invisible thread of fate seemed to tug at her, guiding her away from the safety of the Primary Village. She wandered into the surrounding forest as if in a trance.
There, amidst the towering digital foliage, she stumbled upon a bizarre Digimon.
Before her conscious mind could process the danger, a massive Kuwagamon descended upon the stranger. Without a single thought, Nyaromon's small body launched forward. Instinct hijacked her limbs.
By the time the red haze of adrenaline faded, the giant insect had been driven back into the woods, repelled by the combined desperate strikes of herself and Elecmon, who had arrived just in time.
Looking back, it marked the very first victory of her life.
Yet, Nyaromon felt no surge of triumph. No thrill of the hunt. Her heart remained heavy, burdened by the same old truth: conflict only bred suffering.
But as the dust settled, a faint, breathless whisper reached her ears.
"Thank you."
Her ears twitched.
Those two fragile words, spoken just before the battered stranger lost consciousness, struck Nyaromon like a bolt of lightning. To her young, inexperienced heart, that simple expression of gratitude tasted infinitely sweeter than any glory won on a battlefield.
She was still too young to fully grasp the weight of that moment, but the warmth it left behind lingered.
Unlike the night skies of the human world, choked by smog and drowned out by the harsh glare of neon cities, the digital canopy above stretched out in pristine, stunning clarity. A brilliant river of stars painted the darkness, casting a soft, silver glow over the landscape.
Bathed in that gentle light, the heavy burdens of survival seemed to wash away, leaving a quiet peace in their wake.
Mizuki stood near the edge of the clearing. He turned his gaze toward the small, yellow, cat-like Digimon hovering nervously a few paces away. He blinked, offering a warm, disarming smile.
"Nyaromon, do you mind if I sit here?"
"Y-yes... you may."
Nyaromon's oversized ears twitched nervously. Her striped tail swished back and forth in an erratic rhythm, betraying her anxiety. Still, she offered a small nod, granting his request.
Truthfully, she had been observing him from the shadows for quite some time. Part of it was the natural, insatiable curiosity inherent to her species. But the deeper reason lay in those two words he had spoken earlier. She needed to understand the strange entity who had given her the first genuine thank you she had ever received.
"I'm not a Digimon. I'm a human."
"Eh?!"
The sudden statement shattered the quiet air. Nyaromon froze, her wide eyes locking onto Mizuki in absolute shock.
Meeting her startled gaze, Mizuki's smile widened just a fraction. "It's written all over your face."
Nyaromon sat utterly paralyzed.
A beat of silence passed. Slowly recovering from the sheer embarrassment of being read so easily, she offered no verbal reply. Instead, she curled up and wrapped her large, fluffy tail completely over her eyes, trying to hide from the world.
Watching the tiny creature shrink into a ball of fluff, Mizuki let out a soft chuckle. "Sorry, sorry. Did I startle you?"
'That's right,'Nyaromon thought, peeking through a gap in her fur.'He's a strange existence that can read minds.'
"N-no... not at all," she stammered, her voice muffled.
It was a textbook case of saying the exact opposite of what she meant. Yet, for a Digimon as painfully shy as Nyaromon, managing to hold even this fragmented conversation with a complete stranger marked a monumental leap in courage.
After that brief exchange, the heavy blanket of silence returned.
Under normal circumstances, Mizuki would have respected her boundaries and left her to her peace. But tonight, sitting beneath the digital stars, he found himself acutely attuned to the subtle shifts in her demeanor.
'She isn't quiet because she wants me to leave,'he realized, watching her tail give another restless flick.'She just has absolutely no idea how to keep the conversation going. She wants to talk.'
Catching Nyaromon sneaking another timid glance in his direction, Mizuki made a decision. If she couldn't bridge the gap, he would build the bridge himself.
"Nyaromon," he began, his voice smooth and steady. "I know I've already said this twice today, but looking at you now, I really need to say it again."
He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "Thank you for saving me from Kuwagamon."
Nyaromon lowered her tail just a fraction.
"This life of mine was hard-won," Mizuki continued, his tone carrying a weight far older than his current appearance suggested. "And it only continues to exist because you chose to step in. Honestly, you're incredible. To stand up to a terrifying monster like that... it takes real strength."
He kept his words light but entirely sincere, tossing out gentle praises to fill the quiet air. His gratitude was absolute. He meant every single syllable.
On the receiving end, Nyaromon felt that same strange, warm flutter in her chest. The praise felt nice.
But then, the context of his words fully registered, and the warmth vanished, replaced by a cold, familiar dread.
'It always comes back to this,'she thought, her ears drooping flat against her head.'Defeating enemies. Fighting. Why does everyone care so much about violence? Doesn't conflict only bring pain?'
If it had been Chief Elecmon, she would have simply nodded and endured the lecture. But hearing it from Mizuki—the one person who had made her feel different—sparked a sudden, irrational frustration.
Before her conscious mind could stop her, the raw truth spilled from her lips.
"It's not amazing at all..."
Mizuki paused.
"Fighting..." Nyaromon's voice trembled, barely louder than a whisper. "I hate it the most."
A sharp gasp hitched in her throat. Realizing exactly what she had just confessed to a battle-hardened survivor, every single hair on Nyaromon's body stood on end. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable disappointment.
She peeked open one eye, catching the flash of surprise crossing Mizuki's face.
Defeated, Nyaromon let her ears droop completely. She let out a hollow, self-deprecating laugh. "Hehe... you heard it. That's right. I really, truly hate fighting."
She stared down at the grass, refusing to meet his gaze. "What do you think now? You must think I'm completely pathetic, right...?"
She braced herself for the lecture. She expected him to sound just like Elecmon, preaching about survival of the fittest, about the necessity of strength in a cruel world.
Instead, the words that followed shattered her expectations entirely.
"I see." Mizuki's voice was incredibly soft. "I'm sorry, Nyaromon. I didn't consider your feelings before speaking."
Nyaromon's head snapped up. He was apologizing?
Mizuki met her wide, tear-pricked eyes with absolute sincerity. "As for thinking you're pathetic? I don't harbor a single thought like that."
He shifted his gaze toward the starry sky, his expression turning distant, yet deeply gentle. "The essence of life lies in its continuation. While conflict is often a necessary condition to ensure that continuation, it is also the very thing that can violently interrupt it. It destroys just as easily as it protects."
He looked back down at her, his dark eyes reflecting the starlight. "So, your hatred of conflict? That thought isn't ridiculous at all."
Mizuki paused, letting the silence stretch for a heartbeat. When he spoke again, his voice carried a deep, unwavering understanding.
"In fact, Nyaromon... I think it just means you are an incredibly gentle Digimon."
Nyaromon stopped breathing.
She stared at the young human sitting across from her, completely frozen. His words echoed in her mind, bouncing around her core data. This wasn't empty comfort. This wasn't a patronizing pat on the head. This was genuine, deep understanding.
A heavy weight she hadn't even realized she was carrying suddenly lifted from her small shoulders. Her affection and respect for Mizuki skyrocketed in an instant.
He really was different.
He was the first human to ever thank her.
And he was the very first person in the entire Digital World to truly understand her.
Meanwhile, a short distance away near the edge of the Primary Village.
"Chief Elecmon, is this really a good idea?"
"Hmm?"
Hearing the hesitant voice behind him, Elecmon turned his red, spiky head to look at the small purple dragon standing nearby.
"Leaving Nyaromon completely alone with that strange Digimon," Monodramon clarified, his golden eyes tight with worry. "She isn't just a normal resident. She is one of the very few Digimon in our Primary Village who has manifested Holy-species power while still in her In-Training stage."
Monodramon took a step closer, lowering his voice. "Devimon has been actively hunting down Holy-species Digimon across File Island recently. We all know this. If that stranger is a spy, or if—"
"I understand your concern, Monodramon. But it is fine."
Elecmon cut the young dragon off with a firm shake of his head. He opened his mouth to elaborate on his judgment of the human's character.
But the words died in his throat.
Elecmon's massive pupils suddenly contracted into tiny pinpricks. The fur along his spine spiked upward, crackling with erratic static electricity. A chilling sensation washed over his data.
Without another word, Elecmon whipped around and sprinted frantically toward the clearing where he had left Nyaromon and Mizuki.
"Chief Elecmon?!"
Monodramon and a nearby Koromon jumped in shock at the sudden, explosive movement. Exchanging a panicked glance, the two small Digimon scrambled on their short legs, rushing into the darkness to follow their leader.
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