kh_drabble | (no subject)

Title: Digital Hearts
Challenge: [#288 - Sora]
Word Count: 488
Warning: Crossover with Digimon Adventure (or just plain Digimon to those of us who grew up in the '90s).
Notes: "Two Soras!"

Donald had seen many strange things in his life. That was putting it mildly. Even so, this was … well, weird. Only flamingos and parrots were supposed to be pink. This bird … he wasn’t even sure what species it was. Since when did birds have antennae or claws for wings?

“Put ‘em up! Put ‘em up!” The little purple and white seal-creature raised itself on its hind legs and waved claws curled into an approximation of fists. “You’ll never hurt these kids while we’re here!”

Goofy scratched his head. “Gawrsh, we weren’t gonna.”

“A likely story! Who are ya?”

“Um, the name’s Goofy. Please t’meet –”

“Goofy? What kind of name is that for a digimon?”

“Gomamon!” The lanky boy behind the creature grabbed it and pulled it back. “Sorry about him. He gets a little overprotective sometimes.” He wore glasses and blinked at them through lenses like re-entry shields. “What kind of digimon are you? Oh man, you’re not gonna try to eat us, are you?”

“What?” Goofy gaped. “No!”

“Or shred us?”

“No!”

“Or claw us?”

“No!”

“Or chase us?”

“No!”

“Or mash us into paté?”

“What the heck kind of world is this?” Donald demanded. He looked up at the jungle canopy they had crashed through, rubbing his backside while gripping his staff tighter with the other hand. Somewhere overhead an enormous insectoid monster roared. Donald would never again look at the bugs in Queen Minnie’s rose garden the same way. He resolved to invent a new, magically enhanced pesticide as soon as they got home, just in case.

“The Digiworld,” declared the little orange dinosaur.

“What the heck is a Digiworld?”

“You mean you’re not from here either?” He looked over his shoulder. “Hey, Tai, they’re not from her either. Maybe they’re from your world.”

A boy stepped forward, placing himself between Donald’s party and the bunch of kids and small monsters behind him. The first thing you noticed was his explosion of brown hair, barely held in check by a blue headband. It reached even taller and wider than Sora’s, which was really saying something. “Uh, I don’t think so, Agumon. In our world, ducks swim on ponds, eat stale bread and go ‘quack’.” He eyed Donald’s staff suspiciously; not with fear, but as if he wanted to know what else it was capable of besides emergency levitation spells (which had a habit of cutting out at the wrong moment), in case he had to wrest it away in a hurry.

“But …” The little dinosaur looked confused. “If they’re not digimon, and they’re not from your world, where are they from? What other world is there?”

“Plenty,” said Donald archly. “We’re from Disneyland. The name’s Donald and this is Goofy. Sora is from Destiny Islands and we’re here to find –”

“Sora?” The boy looked surprised. He pointed. “That’s Sora?”

The girl tending Sora’s head wound looked up. She had rushed forward when the trio crash-landed, bringing much of the canopy with them. A strip of yellow fabric from her top was now tied around his bleeding head.

“What?” she said.

“Not you, Sora.” The boy pointed. “That Sora.”

She blinked at him and then down at the unconscious Keyblade Master. “Seriously?”

“Two Soras!” cried the little pink bird-monster-thing. She sing-songed happily: “Two Soras! Two Soras! Two Soras! Two Soras!”

“Great,” muttered the boy in glasses. “We’re the only humans in this world and two of us have the same name. As if this place wasn’t confusing enough. ”