FSE

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"Boss...Are you okay?" Butch said for what seemed like the tenth time.

"Yes, I'm fine." The orange dragon stressed as he paced around the blade ridden scrap yard that was their battle field. The orange Child was pacing around the area, trying to figure out what went wrong. Losing a fight was something that always happened in the life of a fighter and someone in power. Sometimes you had to take blows, sometimes you had to play dead, and Boss could accept that.

What he could not accept was losing to a human and his pants wearing dragon.

Despite his words from before, Boss was still riled up about the entire fight to begin with. The human and digimon proved themselves as capable fighters, but Boss was still angered at one thing; himself. He slipped up, made idiotic mistakes and almost injured his two best workers in the process because he had succumbed to the thrill of the fight. Butch, Clark and himself always fought in tandem and always made sure to cover their backs, but today, it was the complete opposite of that.

It had started off as a simple robbery of a feeble minded human and his In-training and it escalated into so much more. The battle field was proof of that. The scrap yard of mechanical parts was a desolate part of Terminus City. Some of the parts were destroyed or slashed into pieces, and the ground was embedded with countless blades from the ryudamon's attack. The orange dragon soon found himself staring at a patch of dried blood from the human. Marcus...a name he wasn't going to forget any time soon. He glared at the dried path before staring back at the pile of parts the man's partner had evolved. He had never gotten the thing's name, but a human with orange gravity defying shades, blue hair and a cape shouldn't be all that hard to find. He'd offered them a free stay at his hotel, so if they weren't paranoid, he'd run into them again.

The dragon soon began walking around once more, putting a paw on his naked head. A scowl was soon plastered on his muzzle as the memories of his helmet being stabbed and deleted flashed across. The scowl was soon replaced with a look of anger and with a roar, he spat out a flaming blade in a random direction.

"Damnit all..." he muttered.

Losing his helmet was something that he never expected to happen in a fight. The thing had been with him through thick and thin and survived every hit it ever took. The fact that it was gone was something he had to cope with. The headgear had been with the armored dragon ever since he had first evolved and he loved it like a brother. And it was gone. He could always replace it, but it wouldn't be like his first one. Many memories of the past were held with it, and it was gone for good. For the first time in a long time, Boss felt guilty. This was the consequence of acting on his gut and letting the thrill of the fight cloud his senses. He'd promised that it would never happen again, and look what had happened! The ryudamon let out another angered roar before going silent and pacing around again.

Clark and Butch stood on a pile of scrap parts, watching their boss pace around and completely swerving past the blades.

The two digimon were worried, as they'd never seen their leader like this. Boss was calm, cool, and collected most of the time unless he was annoyed at them (and for good reason), but now, the two dragons saw something completely new.

Guilt.

Guilt for what, they couldn't tell. That man (Marcus, or whatever his name) somehow went toe to toe with the three of them, and suffered the consequences, but that wasn't why he was feeling so down. The fact that he'd lost his helmet in this fight and almost killed both Clark and Butch was probably it. First he lost his helmet, then he had almost killed his two most loyal workers who had stuck to him for years in a fit of rage. His rage was justifiable, but murdering two of his best employees would just make everything worse. Butch and Clark saw him as a leader, a source of faith, anything positive in their lives, and he'd almost killed them...

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Butch whispered to the blue dragon.

Clark shrugged his shoulders. He couldn't tell what would happen. Seeing the ryudamon without his helmet was a sight to behold, as he never took it off. You could see an entire head of orange fur, along with what looked like a plainly visible scar running across his head. Blinking rapidly, Clark had wondered how he didn't even notice it the entire time they'd been here. Nudging the monodramon, the veemon discreetly pointed toward the ryudamon's naked head. Butch cocked his head to the side before focusing his vision and seeing what the veemon was mentioning. He turned back toward Clark and shrugged his shoulder. So he didn't know about it either? The two dragons looked at each before playing a game of rock paper scissors.

"Damn it!" Clark muttered. He lost. Giving the veemon a pat on the back, Butch smiled as the blue dragon coughed to try and get their leader's attention.

"Um...Boss?" The veemon asked in a nervous tone.

"What!?" the orange dragon snapped angrily.

Clark was taken aback at the sheer anger his voice was laden with, but swallowed his fear and continued. "Um...what's with the scar on your head? We've never seen you without your helmet and Butch and I were wondering..." the blue dragon stuttered.

The ryudamon cocked his head to the side. Was he seriously asking about that? Putting a paw on his head, he lined out the scar with a paw. The scar was plainly visible because for some reason, the data didn't reform over that part, resulting in a permanent scar. "Meh, it's not something I like talking about, but considering today's events, why the hell not?"

"Story time!" Butch cried out childishly as he sailed down the scrap mountain and landing on the ground.

The three dragons situated themselves in an area that was clean of any blades on the ground and sat down in a small circle. The ryudamon coughed before speaking. "Okay. You two know how I prefer my fights, either in business or an actual one, right?" The dragon began.

The two nodded, wondering where this was going. Boss always preferred that his fights don't drag out and loved making it as quick as possible while still getting some satisfaction out of a kill, or getting a good score of money.

"Well, what you saw back there was a glimpse of how I was when I was younger. Battle thirsty, kind of an idiot, you get the gist." The dragon waved his paw nonchalantly.

The two stared at their employer as if he'd grown another head.

"Really? I would have never taken you for another Butch." Clark said.

"Yeah, me either. You were kind of - hey!" Butch cried, finally catching the comment.

Boss shook his head. "Nope, I was even worse than him. At least Butch knows when to call it quits; I didn't and this scar's actually proof of that." He mentioned as he tapped his head. "I was really thick headed. Thought I could take on the world, all the stuff like that before I got my ass handed to me on a platter by..." The dragon's face was soon flushed with pink.

Butch and Clark were both eagerly waiting for a response.

" A Matadormon."

"You were an idiot." Clark said flatly.

"That's so cool! Wish I had the guts to do that." Butch remarked.

The ryudamon glared at the veemon for the snide comment, but chose to continue on. "Yeah, I know, I was stupid. Frankly, I had a good reason, seeing how it went and killed the only digimon I went and considered a role model." The ryudamon muttered.

The two digimon went silent and were now staring at their boss eagerly for the story. Seeing as how they knew next to nothing of their leader's life, this was like a dream come true.

With a snort, the orange dragon pressed on with his story, slightly picking at the scar. "This digimon was actually the one who taught me mostly everything I know. The Dragon's Valley is an "abandon all hope ye who enter" sort of place and being raised up there, all I knew was fighting to survive. To think, a Ouryumon of all dragons decided to help some pest like me. It pissed me right off when he died. The stupid thing caught him by surprise since he was pretty old to boot. He even took his data, which got me even angrier. When that happened, I kept attacking him, despite me being greatly injured. He took m helmet and scarred me "as a reminder of my failure." Doing what I did was pretty much an idiotic way of trying to get my revenge. To this day, I still feel depressed about all of it, but if anything, being the better 'mon and not going on a revenge craze was something that the old coot taught me well. "The orange dragon explained with a sigh.

"So, what happened with the Matadormon?" Butch questioned.

Boss simply shrugged. "Don't know. I don't even think going after him now will solve anything. The coot's dead as a doornail. I have a lot to thank him for, but going after him would cause a lot more problems than solve anything."

The two dragons nodded toward each other, then began clapping, garnering the dragon's confusion. "The hell are you clapping for?" he grunted.

"Because it was some story, Boss! And to be honest, I half expected that you killed the 'mon already." Butch commented.

"Yeah, me too. I wondering when you were going to get to the gritty details of how you tortured him or something." Clark added in.

The ryudamon rolled his eyes, chuckling. "Well, at least you guys weren't wrong about me. I'd love to do that whenever I got the chance, but I'm not going to sacrifice my job to look for a lone digimon. This world's a big place, no point in searching for someone who's most likely dead." The dragon shrugged his shoulders before standing up. "How about we get something to eat? I am famished."

"Alright!" The two dragons began following behind.

"You two are paying."

"Alri- hey!" The two cried out in surprise.

Boss turned his head around to the two Childs with a dark look on his face. Butch and Clark gulped before darting ahead.

"You got it, Boss." The two dragons chimed.