Okay, I was lying, sorry. I have to say that these characters are NOT mine and I do not claim any ownership of any of them. Neither do I claim ownership of any Digimon or the idea itself so please don’t sue me! This is just written for fun blah blah blah...... Now, for REAL this time. Enjoy the story! ^_^

Mimi sighed and glanced over at Matt, sleeping on his back with T.K. nestled in by his side. Don’t forget, Yamato Ishida, I know now why you protect your brother, I know why you rebel. I tried to understand your feelings, and even though I can’t, I’ll always be here for you. I’m your friend, and you can always count on me. I hope you never forget that.

She pulled her secret diary and pretty pink, fluffy pen out of her purse, thumbing the roseate book open to the newest page. She had a super entry to write and she might as well write it now since she couldn’t get to sleep. By the soft light of the full moon, she began to silently pen down her thoughts....

Dear Diary: You’ll never guess what happened to me today! It was so weird and yet so sad, it had me crying. It all started when Joe tapped me on the shoulder earlier this evening.......

“Hey, Mimi, have you noticed how strange Matt has been acting?” he whispered to me. I nodded, my long brown hair ruffling in the gentle breeze. Glancing back, I could see Matt, dragging behind the rest of the group.

“Maybe he’s having growing pains or something.” I said, putting my hands on my hips.

I could see Joe’s eyes slide down my figure before he nervously jerked them back up to my face. I smiled and pretended not to notice; I could tell he liked me.

“Mimi, I don’t think growing pains would make a person weird.” he said, rolling his dark eyes and blushing a bit.

“What are the two of you talking about?” Izzy suddenly asked coming up behind us.

“We were just saying that Matt has been acting kind of...cranky.” I answered, my gaze again slipping back to Matt who was walking with downcast eyes. I felt pang of sympathy toward him. He looked almost....lonely and...upset.

Izzy nodded. “Yes, I too have noticed his change in attitude and am becoming somewhat concerned.” he said, looking thoughtful.

Joe scratched a hand through his blue-black hair. “Maybe Gabumon knows what’s wrong.” he said, glancing over at Matt’s Digimon partner who was walking beside him, looking up at his friend in concern.

I wasn’t so sure, but I shrugged anyway. “Maybe...” I said, only half listening. Looking back at Matt for the third time, I realized that he had heard our entire conversation! His azure eyes looked into my brown ones for a tense second before flicking away in shame and hurt. I wanted to talk with him, see what was wrong, but then wasn’t the time. Maybe later.

Soon we were camping out since it was getting dark.

I shivered and hugged Palmon close to me. “What if there are evil Digimon out there?” I whispered. “I hate camping out with the bugs and the snakes, and especially killer Digimon.”

Tai, being the jerk that he is, looked at me and grinned. “Well, Mimi, there ARE evil Digimon out there, waiting until you go to sleep so they can come out and drink your blood! BWA HA HA HA!!” he growled, laughing maniacally.

I gave a little shriek and cringed away from him as he chuckled.

“Hey, man, leave her alone!” Matt snarled, speaking for the first time that evening. “She’s scared enough already without you to freak her out even more!” He grabbed Tai’s arm and shoved him back like he always did when Tai decided to act like an idiot.

I have always been grateful for Matt’s over-protective nature, especially around characters like Tai, but I could see how it could get annoying for T.K. Still, I couldn’t help but feel happy that he would come to my rescue, no matter how much he might not like me.

While the two boys fought, Sora rolled her eyes and patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Mimi,” she said, “Palmon will protect you.”

Palmon nodded in agreement. “That’s right, Mimi. Have I ever let you down before?” she asked, looking at me encouragingly.

I had to agree. Palmon has always been there when I needed her, so I really shouldn’t be afraid. But it’s hard not to be scared in a strange land like this.

Soon, Augumon had a fire made and everyone sat around it eating some fish Gomamon had caught in a nearby lagoon.

I sat beside Matt and tried to be extra friendly to him. He seemed pleased with the extra attention, but it did little to change his mood.

I sighed and continued eating, wondering out loud if there would happen to be a hotel nearby that had nice, hot showers. Everyone groaned and told me to think before I say things. Can I help it if I’m tired of sleeping on the ground and bathing out in the open in freezing cold lakes?

I groaned as something bumped my legs. Tiredly opening my eyes I could see that it was Matt. He was carefully maneuvering between our tightly packed group of sleeping kids and Digimon. I sat up and watched as he glanced around before disappearing into the underbrush. Getting up, I started to follow him, hoping that he wasn’t just wandering off to go to the bathroom.

It wasn’t long before I saw him standing at the edge of the beautiful lagoon full of crystal clear water and glistening fish. As I stared at the lush growth all around me and couldn’t help thinking to myself that it would be perfect with a resort on the white sands of the beach under a shady patch of palm trees.

Watching Matt, I decided to stay hidden for a little while longer to see what he was going to do.

He stood on the sandy beach for awhile, just looking up at the stars that twinkled down from the sky. Then with a loud sigh, he flopped down beside a tree and pulled something metallic out of his pocket. At first I thought it was a pocket knife, but when he put it to his lips, a slow song issued forth and I realized it was his harmonica.

He played a sad, lonely song, the notes drifting through the faint fog that had crept up. Suddenly, the melody faltered for a split second, wavering unsteadily before picking up again.

I peeked around the tree I was hiding behind and saw something that shocked me. A glistening tear was sliding down Matt’s cheek from the corner of his eye as he stared straight ahead into the mist. At that, I slipped out from behind the tree. I couldn’t stand it anymore. Matt needed to talk to someone, and it looked like that someone was me.

“Matt?” I whispered, taking a step foreword.

He jerked his head up and quickly fisted the tear away before stuffing the harmonica back into his pocket and turning to look at me. “Yeah?” he asked, trying to sound normal.

“Can we talk?” I asked softly, as gently as my high-pitched voice could manage.

He smiled and patted the spot beside him, “Sure. Sit down.”

I eased myself in beside him onto a soft patch of moss.

“So, what’s bothering you?” he asked, studying my face. “Is it Izzy again?”

I laughed lightly and shook my head. “No, it’s not that,” I looked him in the eye, “It’s you. You look like you need someone to talk to.”

Matt jerked his head back in surprise, genuinely shocked. I knew why. Usually, in our little group, if one of us had a problem, we went to Matt and talked to him. He would comfort us, give us support, then promptly send us on our way so we could come up with our own solution, one that he helped us to reach. It was common knowledge for a few of us, namely T.K., Sora, and me, that Matt was a great listener, one who enjoyed helping others when they needed it the most. I guess it was because he was so used to helping T.K., his little brother, that he just did it naturally.

But because of that, he wasn’t used to talking about his own problems and we weren’t used to listening to them. I figured it was time to change that.

“W...what?” he stuttered, stiffening his back.

I twisted my body so that I was facing him. “You’ve been acting so out of it lately. Is something wrong?” I asked.

He gave a weak little laugh. “Wrong? No nothing’s wrong, why do you ask?” he said, a little too quickly.

I frowned and placed my hand on his arm. “Matt, you can tell me. I may seem like a ditz and a snob sometimes, but I am actually a very sincere person. I do have the crest of sincerity, after all,” I said. When he didn’t answer, I continued. “I’m here for you, you know. We all are. You can tell us anything, and we’ll listen.”

I couldn’t believe the way I was talking! It’s not like me at all to speak so calmly, and seriously. I really amazed myself, much less Matt.

We stared emotionlessly at each other for a long time until something moved in his eyes, like water under ice, and he sighed in defeat.

“It’s just...today’s the ‘anniversary’ of the day my parents split up...” he said, his smooth voice going rough. “I was just...just remembering everything that happened.”

I studied his face hard, even when he looked away, and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Can you tell me about it?” I asked in a hushed tone, inching closer towards him.

He snorted and shook his head in surrender. “Sure, why not. My shrink’s been nagging me to tell her the story so I could ‘face my fears’ or something stupid like that,” he sneered, his distaste and discomfort showing clearly in his tone of voice, “Might as well tell it to someone so I can get her off my back.”

My head was spinning as he settled down to relive the tale. Shrink? Matt’s troubled enough to have to go to a psychiatrist?! I bit my lip, hoping I wasn’t getting into something so deep I wouldn’t be able to get out again.

After a long, uncomfortable pause, he began to speak....

Mimi tickled her nose with the pink fluffy feathers on the end of her pen. “I’ll write your tale in story format, that way I won’t get confused, okay?” she asked Matt’s sleeping form. The only answer she recieved was a slight groan that escaped his lips as his head lolled to one side, resting on her shoulder. She smiled and continued to write....

Screaming. The crash of breaking glass. These sounds were what woke the young, tawny haired boy from his slumber. He blinked and crawled out of bed, creeping towards the door. He gently opened it a crack and peeked out into the living room to see his parents. They were arguing about something. Something bad.

The boy felt a familiar feeling of dismay well up inside him at the sight. He could tell his father was drunk again, and he hoped that it wouldn’t lead to another beating for him, his step-mother or his half-brother, T.K. He was so tired of his father drinking too much and then taking it out on his family, it made him sick at times.

His small hand moved up to brush a large, painful bruise on the back of his neck, and he winced when his fingers grazed the extremely sore spot. It was the result of a small argument they’d had yesterday. He’d been through so much merciless battering that it was becoming a gruesome way of life for him, one he felt he could never get away from, no matter how far or fast he ran. And because of this, he felt he had to be tough at school, felt he had to always win, or he would be punished. As a result, he didn’t have many friends and the ones he did have were much older then him, and treated him as more of a nuisance then anything.

It was too bad really, because he was actually a sweet young boy, he always had been, always would be. He just didn’t know how to make the other children see that.

His stunning aqua blue eyes widened in fear when he heard his name suddenly called by his father. “Yamato, get out here!” The words were angry and harsh sounding to his young ears as he cowered behind the door.

He swallowed hard and was about to run to his father when a timid tugging on his pajama top stopped him.

“Oniichan?” squeaked a tiny voice behind him, using the Japanese word for ‘brother’.

He turned around and scowled down at T.K. who was looking up at him with innocent eyes, blue like his but of a lighter shade. “What are you doing up?” he growled, trying to sound fierce.

T.K. made a face, “Mommy and Daddy talk LOUD,” the little boy chirped.

The older boy pushed a lock of his golden sandy colored hair out of his eyes and was about to tell T.K. to go back to bed when his father’s voice roared out from the living room. “YAMATO! COME HERE!”

He jumped and scurried out to his father, eager to please him so he wouldn’t get hit. To his dismay, T.K. toddled out after him, immediately getting scooped up by his mother. He frowned at T.K. then looked up at his father. “Yes, sir?” he asked.

His father growled and grabbed his hand, squeezing it almost painfully. “Let’s go!” he snarled, dragging him toward the front door.

The young boy pulled back, resisting. “Go where?” he asked, twisting his head so he could see his step-mom and T.K. standing behind him.

“We’re leaving,” his father barked, “And we’re not coming back this time.”

A sudden understanding began to form itself in his head at those words. “What do you mean?” he asked, “What about Mom...and T.K.? Aren’t they coming too?”

His step-mom put T.K. back on the floor so she could blow her nose. “We’re not coming,” she sniffled, her mascara running down her cheeks like gory comet’s tails. “Just you and your father are going. T.K. and I are staying here.”

In a sudden burst of energy, the boy pulled free from his father’s fierce grip. “Your splitting up aren’t you?!” he cried angrily. When his father didn’t say anything, his head began to spin. It couldn’t happen, not again. He’d already been through one break up, he wouldn’t survive another one. Especially if it meant leaving T.K. behind.

He felt hot tears sting his lashes as he rushed to his brother’s side. He picked up the youngster and hugged him close, retreating to a shadowy corner where the two boys fearfully clung to one another.

His step-mother smiled weakly. “Matt, honey, it won’t be that bad. You’ll get to see each other on holidays. It’ll just be like one long vacation from each other, that’s all,” she cooed, reaching out a hand to stroke his face.

He fiercely slapped the hand away, disgusted at her for lying to him. Did she think he was stupid? Still, he felt a sting of guilt when he hit her. He’d never openly opposed her before and it hurt him to start now.

Her green eyes widened with shock at the slap. Matt had always been a rebellious child, disobeying rules and ignoring orders, but he was rarely violent and when he was, it was only when the situation was serious. “Yamato, let go of your brother and give him to me,” she hissed from between clenched teeth. She was losing her patience.

Hot, angry tears were pouring down his cheeks as he tightened his grip on T.K. “You’re never home, how will you look after him?!” he accused, “Who’s going to feed him and change him and put him to bed?! You never did, I always had to! He needs me!”

He was screaming so loud that it caused little T.K to wail in confusion. The poor child didn’t understand what was happening, Why was his big brother yelling?

“Now look what you did!” his mother shrieked at the first cry from T.K. “Give him to me, NOW!”

“NO!” he screeched back. That was when a loud, enraged bellow escaped from his father’s throat and he advanced on his helpless child.

The next few moments passed by so fast, they were nothing but a blur to the scared, young boy. He felt his father’s thick fingers digging into his arm as he pried T.K. from his grasp, felt the stinging crack of the wall connecting with the side of his face as he was flung back, felt a warm, sticky liquid flowing down his temple and cheekbone. Looking up weakly he could see his mother trying to calm T.K. as he bawled in her arms, his tiny fingers curled into tight fists.

Suddenly, his father grabbed his shoulders and yanked him to his feet, spinning the youth to face him. “What is your problem you spoiled brat?! You ungrateful little monster! Don’t make this any harder on your mother then it has to be!” he yelled, his breath reeking of alcohol. He raked his hand down across the boy’s tender young face in a stinging, backhanded blow, sending him crashing to the floor boards. “Now, we are leaving whether you want to or not! Is that clear, Yamato?!”

“My name is Matt!” the boy yelled, sobbing as he tried to back away from his father. “And I’m not going anywhere with you! I hate you! I hate you both!” His screams did little good as his father dragged him, struggling, outside and into the car. He pressed against the window, his tears fogging the glass as his father drove away. He could see T.K. on the porch watching, saying one last forlorn, begging word before they drove out of sight.

“Oniichan....”

“I didn’t see T.K. for almost a year after that, and I never got along with my mother or father again, that’s why they sent me in for counseling,” Matt said, his voice thick with emotion and bottled up feelings. He snorted, “They think I’m a problem child.”

I watched as he struggled against the tears that threatened to spill from his closed eyes but finally, he let them flow, leaving stains on his cheeks. I was crying too, not even caring that it would mark up my face and make my eyes all puffy.

I thought about my baby brother back at home and how I treated him like nothing but a thorn in my side. Hearing Matt’s story made me realize that I should be treating him better, even if he was annoying at times.

Very cautiously, I tilted toward Matt and put my arms around him in a loose hug. To my surprise, he leaned into it, welcoming the embrace like an old friend. He rested his head against my shoulder as he cried. (thankfully being careful about where he put his hands)

As I rocked him back and forth, I was reminded of the time he had done so for me. I had been devastated that Izzy always paid more attention to his computer then to me. Seeing this, Matt had taken me aside and comforted me much as I was doing now for him.

Helping him now made me feel great inside, and also a little strange. I had never actually held a boy before and I admit I was sort of savoring the experience since I probably never would again. He was warm, his skin soft against mine as his cheek brushed my neck, his body seeming to fit perfectly into my arms. And as I held him close I realized that, for once, I knew a really cute guy that I didn’t feel attracted to! Sure, I acknowledge that he’s hot and has a great personality, but I cherished our relationship as friends, not lovers, and I wouldn’t change that for the world.

Presently, he pulled away, smiling in a sweet, embarrassed way. “What am I doing?!” he sniffled, “Crying?!” He wiped his tears away with the heel of his hand.

I smiled and let him go. “Even cool people can cry sometimes,” I told him, “Besides, I won’t tell anyone.”

He looked at me and shook his head in amazement. “I always thought that all you cared about was shopping and your hair,” he said, “I didn’t know you were so good at making others feel better.”

I laughed and gave his arm a playful squeeze. “Well, you know me; full of sincerity and surprises,” I chirped.

We stayed on the beach and talked until the tear stains on our cheeks disappeared, then made our way back to the others. But what a scene greeted us as we stepped into the clearing! Everyone, human and Digimon alike, were awake. I soon saw why. T.K. was in Tai’s arms bawling so hard his little body shook. Sora and Tai were trying desperately to calm him down while the rest of the group watched in concern.

Izzy looked up and, seeing me and Matt, quickly beckoned for us to hurry. “Something’s wrong with T.K.!” he called anxiously.

Matt gasped, dashing the last few yards that separated him and his brother at a dead run. “What happened?!” he cried, glaring suspiciously at Tai.

Joe quickly came to his defense. “It wasn’t Tai, this time. T.K just woke up screaming, we think he had a nightmare!” he explained, holding Patamon so the protective little Digimon wouldn’t get in the away.

At the sound of Matt’s voice, T.K. turned in Tai’s arms and reached up for his brother. “Matt!” he sobbed, tears coursing down his chubby little cheeks. He was frantic for his brother, trying desperately to squeeze away from Tai.

Matt took the little boy from Tai’s arms and cradled him against his chest. “Ssh, it’s okay. I’m here now,” he whispered, sitting down and resting his cheek on the top of T.K.’s head. “What’s wrong, buddy?”

T.K. clutched at Matt’s shirt with his tiny fists. “I had a n-nightmare!” he wailed, “About when Daddy took...took you away!” He took a racking breath, “He hit you and you were bleeding, and he didn’t care!! Why did he always hit you, Matt?! Wh-why?!” With that, the child broke down crying again.

Everyone but me looked at Matt in surprise at the mention of his beatings. I expected him to start making excuses, saying T.K. was just dreaming things up. But he didn’t. His face flushed a bit but he stayed with his brother.

“That was a long time ago, T.K., it doesn’t matter now.” Matt assured him in a calm, reassuring voice, rocking the younger boy like a baby. “We’re together now, and even if we have to separate again, I’ll always be there for you. You just have to call.” He smiled down at T.K. who smiled back through his tears.

T.K. reached up and touched Matt’s temple, running the pads of his fingers over the skin as though feeling something there. “I know, Matt, it’s just... you never did anything to him, why did he ALWAYS hit you?”

Matt looked away, deep in somber thought. I could tell he wasn’t sure of the answer himself, and didn’t think he would ever know it.

Slowly he looked back at T.K. who was staring up at him with mournful, liquid eyes. “I don’t know...” he breathed, more to himself then his brother, “I really....don’t know.” Then, snapping out of his reverie, he gave T.K.’s nose a quick, playful tap. “But I DO know that ONE of us needs his sleep, and it’s not me. It’s way past your bedtime, buddy. You get some rest, I’ll stay right here beside you to make sure those nightmare bugs don’t bite.”

T.K. giggled and yawned, his pert mouth opened wide in a little O. “You know I don’t believe in ....nightmare bugs....any...more.....” he mumbled, slowly dropping off into a peaceful slumber.

I was amazed at how quickly and easily T.K. had calmed down once Matt had arrived. I also found it strange that the little five-year-old had a dream about the EXACT SAME THING Matt had been telling me about! I shook my head in astonishment. Their tie to each other was stronger than I’d ever imagined.

“I’ll protect you, T.K., don’t you worry. I’ll never let you down. Even when you don’t think you need me anymore, I’ll still be there,” Matt suddenly whispered, so softly that only I, sitting beside him, could hear. He looked up at me, his eyes reflecting the anger he felt at his father for the pain he had inflicted on his children...and the relief he felt at me for listening to him. “Sleep well, Oniichan. No one will hurt you while I’m around. No one,” he continued.

I glanced around at everyone who were staring in confusion at the two brothers. It was time to blow this popsicle stand. “Maybe we all should get some sleep,” I suggested, breaking the silence. They all looked at me and nodded.

“Where were you two, anyway?” Palmon suddenly asked.

I opened my mouth to start a huge lecture about abusive families and heartbreaking pasts, but when I looked at Matt I saw hesitation in his eyes. He wants to tell them in his own time, I thought, Or maybe even not at all. I closed my mouth and shrugged. “We couldn’t sleep so we decided to take a small walk,” I said instead.

Matt nodded, looking relieved.

“Well, it’s a good thing you came back when you did,” Tai spouted off, adjusting the blue goggled perched on top of his thick, brown hair. “There’s no way T.K. was going to listen to us and calm down.”

Matt’s cobalt eyes narrowed angrily, and he looked like he was about to freak out at Tai again, but he kept his cool and simply nodded.

Soon, everyone had settled down in the same, cramped sleeping order we always had and gone to sleep. Except me, of course since I’m able to write this right now. I gazed at Matt, sleeping right beside me on his back with T.K. snuggled close.

Don’t Forget, Yamato Ishida, I thought, I know now why you protect your brother, I know why you rebel. I tried to understand your feelings, and even though I can’t, I’ll always be here for you. I’m your friend, and you can always count on me. I hope you never forget that.

Mimi slowly closed her diary and sighed. Looking over at Tai she shook her head and rolled her chocolatey brown eyes. He was supposed to be on guard duty, but he had fallen fast asleep against a tree. She supposed she couldn’t blame him; they had all been through a lot today, and she herself was tired. No matter, she’d simply wake him up again in a little while. But right now, she wanted to see something. She wanted to know what T.K. had touched on Matt’s brow.

She inched a little closer to Matt and brushed his forelock aside with gentle fingers. There, on his right temple, was a small, burgundy scar. When she looked closer, she thought she could see a tiny bump under the skin. She reached out and slowly leaned to touch it, finding it strange that he felt the need to cover up such a tiny little mark.

“Daddy gave that to him,” a voice whispered, startling her.

She jerked her head up and yanked her hand back, finding herself staring into T.K.’s pure blue eyes. “What?!” she sputtered, more than a little embarrassed.

T.K. shifted his position on Matt’s chest so he could see her easier. “Daddy gave that to him,” he repeated, “Daddy was getting mad at me for spilling my milk on the carpet and Matt suddenly jumped in front of me. Daddy got REAL mad and pushed him in to a mirror.” T.K.’s innocent face screwed up in pain from the memory. “The mirror broke in to lots of little pieces. It cut him here, and here,” he pointed to the scar on Matt’s temple and then at a fainter, white one on his neck. “It cut him everywhere. There was blood all over the carpet and on the wall and even on the plants where Matt fell,” the young boy winced and turned away, “He had to go to the hospital and get lots of stitches. The doctor accidentally forgot to take a piece of the mirror out, that’s what this little bump is.” T.K. explained, brushing his finger against the small bulge just under his sleeping brother’s skin.

Mimi finally understood why Matt hid the scars. They only served as reminders about what had happened to the two of them when they were younger and that was something T.K. didn’t need. She nodded and bit her lip, “Does your Dad still hurt Matt?” she asked, choosing her words carefully since the last thing she needed was for the younger boy to start crying again.

T.K.’s eyes sparkled momentarily with tears before he answered, slowly and cautiously, “No. Daddy went to a...a support group for help with his drinking problem. Now he doesn’t drink anymore and he doesn’t hit Matt anymore, either.”

To Mimi’s ears, his words sounded rehearsed, as though he had been told exactly what to say, word for word, if someone were to ask him that question. But she couldn’t be sure whether that was the case, or if her tired mind was simply imagining things. She looked down at Matt’s solemn face as he slept, her mind running scatter-gun with all the information she was being given. Presently, she looked at T.K. and smiled wearily. “Well, that’s good,” she told him, “But you’d better get some sleep before he wakes up and finds you still up.”

T.K. giggled and settled back down, almost immediately slipping into peaceful slumber, his small chest rising up and down in a rhythmic pattern.

Mimi glanced at Matt one last time before following suit, snuggling down on his chest, the gentle thumping of his heart lulling her to sleep. Her last thought was of her young, golden haired friend. She hoped he would be okay and that he wasn’t dreaming.

Matt opened his eyes after Mimi and T.K. fell asleep, sending a single, lucid tear gliding along the side of his face to patter down on to the carpet of leaves beneath him. He rested his cheek against Mimi’s head, her silky brown hair smelling like roses and vanilla, just like the aroma therapy candles his step-mother used to burn in the house.

He thought about the conversation between Mimi and T.K. he’d just overheard. He’d listened to everything they’d said, including T.K.’s answer to Mimi’s question and it made him feel sick inside. He was tired of the lies. Everywhere he went the lies followed, even in The Digiworld.

Saa. ‘Niichan. Why do I ask you to lie for me? Even if Dad doesn’t hit me so much anymore, his words and rejection hurt more than any blow he could deliver, Matt thought, twirling T.K.’s hair with his slim finger, The scars that sting the most are the ones that can’t be seen. And they’re the ones that never heal.

He squeezed his eyes shut to stop another tear from slipping out under his lashes. T.K. My treasure. You will never understand how much you mean to me, can never know that you are the only reason I choose to stay alive.

Giving up the battle against his tears, he let them flow freely from his eyes as he slid the leathery, brown gloves off his hands. He looked at his wrists, seeing the scars he so carefully hid within those gloves shining pale against his skin in the cold light of the moon. He traced their harsh lines, remembering when they were fresh and open, sharp raised slashes across his wrists as the blood flowed like crimson lightning down his arms.

He sighed as he slipped his gloves back on over the screaming marks, silencing their cries and giving him peace....for now. He gently kissed T.K.’s forehead and looked down at Mimi, her head resting against his chest. No one can know. Sleep well Oniichan, my treasure, my reason for living....sleep well.

The End

So, how’d you like it? I know it’s not the best and some of the characters are a little bit OOC (Out Of Character) but please forgive me. Sorry Tai-Tai fans if I kinda slammed him a bit, but it was sort of necessary to the plot since I couldn’t really see Joe, Izzy or Sora bugging Mimi like that. No hard feelings, I hope. Anyway, in answer to any Yama fans who might be thinking, and I quote; “Huh?” yes I do know that Matt’s past in this story is a little hard to swallow but I thought it would be neat to write something sad and Matt seemed the most likely candidate. Well, that’s all I can really think to say right now. If you have any questions just e-mail them to me and I’ll try to get back to you as soon as I can. ‘Till next time, this is Pikash saying “Aloha and Goodnight” ~Pikash 4 Evah~ ^_^

Digimon Fan Fiction DigiGirl125@aol.com Silent Love and .... RyanBerke@aol.comCommand Deci