Standard disclaimers for Digimon apply. Once in a Lifetime (at least, the version I’m listening to ^_^) is sung by Sarah Brightman, the true diva of divas in my opinion. I found the lyrics to be exquisitely appropriate for this fic and the (::cough::psychotic::cough::) idea behind it. My Spanish is so minimal anymore I had to resort to the lovely Spanish-English dictionary for help, so if there are discrepancies, I apologise.
P.S. All suing would get you is this stack of bills I’m avoiding, this little Post-It note my imouto stuck to my monitor that says ‘You have no life!’ ::Duh!::, and the rabid foxboy running around with a tube of wasabi. ::wails:: ‘Lendel-chaaan! Come back!
K’lendel: No! ::mad cackle:: Do not meddle in the affairs of foxboy muses, Mina-kaachan, for you are crunchy and taste good with wasabi!
::sweatdrop:: Well, that explains the wasabi at least….
Warnings: Shounen ai, yaoi, fluff, angst—lots of angst, bad language, odd pairings, free license in naming children and parents, Taiyama/Yamatai, Daiken/Kendai, Takehika, Jyoumi, free floating guilt complexes, Kaiser appearances, Kaidai moments (If you wonder why I don’t call Ken the Kaiser when he’s in Kaiser-mode…you’ll see. ^_~), over-psychoanalysation of everything, and, um…I think that covers all of it. I think. Admittedly, not as often as I should, but I do think occasionally. >^_^<
Oddly enough, this was written before I got the episode where Jun decides to set her sights on Shuu. ::shudder:: Okay, I’m like waaay too psychic when it comes to this series.
Extra Warnings: Well…you see, I kind of wrote the original story and let it sit on my hard drive for a long time, since I had all these other stories that I wanted to write to come before it. And then, when I pulled this back up to proof, I didn’t like it. 30+ pages of work and I didn’t like it at all. So what did I do? I revamped the entire damn thing—while listening to nothing but ‘Gravitation’ music and Kotani Kinya. Start to finish, this is practically a brand new story. And one of the things that came out in that revamping was Ken’s Kaiser-side turning out to be extremely horny. ::groans:: In other words, this fic had now earned a lovely LIME and LEMON-LIME scented warning!
K’lendel: Brought to you by the Ecchibi Muse Scented Fic Stickers Cooperative!
::whimper:: Take me now, Lord!
Now, if you took the time to read this whole boring and babbling monologue, the muse and I salute you.
K’lendel: And we give you a cookie!
Er, right. On with the insanity!!
The humid, sticky air of Tokyo summertime felt odd and uncomfortable, yet distantly familiar as Motomiya Daisuke stepped from the air-conditioned taxi out onto the sidewalk. He grinned as he looked up the length of the apartment building face, spotting easily the place he’d called home before he’d left for college.
“Is it a school holiday over there, then?” the cab driver asked, trying not to appear nosy as he helped Daisuke remove the luggage from the trunk.
“No.” Daisuke shook his head, brushing bangs from his eyes. “Well, actually, it is a holiday of sorts over there, but that’s not why I came back. I finally graduated in May, so I came home to see my family for a bit before I try to get a job.”
“I see!” The driver smiled, closing the trunk before accepting the bills that were handed to him. “Good luck then, Motomiya-san.”
“Thanks.”
Once the cab had pulled away and he was standing all alone outside the apartment building, Daisuke squared his shoulders and mentally prepared himself. He picked up his bags, heading for the elevator; he would need all the luck he could get, he thought with a wry smile—
—he hadn’t been home in over four years, after all.
It felt odd to knock on his own door, but that’s what Daisuke did, standing outside the apartment patiently. He heard movement inside, the clatter of feet racing across the floor, and then the door was flung open and Daisuke found himself face to face with a frowning pug face and narrowed hazel eyes, all crowned by an unruly mop of blue-black hair.
“Who’re you?” the child demanded.
Daisuke grinned, putting his hands on his hips. “I don’t know, who’re you?”
“Mama said don’ talk ta strangers, so I’m not tellin’.”
Sounds just like me at that age, Daisuke thought wryly. He winked at the little boy and said in a secretive tone, “Why, I bet that you’re Kidou Izumi.”
The little boy gaped in astonishment. “How’d you know my name?”
“Izumi-chan! How many times have I told you not…to…” Kidou Jun trailed off as she saw who her young son was talking to, her eyes wide in astonishment. “Otouto-chan?”
“Yaa, Aneki, it’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”
Jun’s eyes teared up as she stepped forward, looking him over from head to toe. “Is it really you, Daisuke?”
Daisuke flashed a familiar grin, hands tucked into his short pockets. “That’s what the passport said when I went through Customs.”
Despite the fact that they were out on the apartment landing, Jun threw her arms around her little brother with a stifled sob. “Kami-sama, Daisuke, I’ve missed you so much!”
“Nee, Aneki, it’s okay.” Daisuke awkwardly embraced his sister, feeling a little surprised as he realised she was now several inches shorter than he was.
After a moment, Jun stepped back, dabbing her eyes with the small washcloth she held in her hands. “Sorry about that. I’m pregnant again, and it seems like my emotions keep getting the best of me.”
“So that’s your excuse now, huh? Pregnancy? It used to be PMS,” he said teasingly.
“Daisuke!” She thwacked him on the shoulder with the washcloth, smiling as he pretended to be wounded. “Really though, Otouto, you have been missed.”
Izumi tugged on his mother’s pant leg, looking up at her quizzically. “Mama, who is he? He knows my name, Mama.”
“I should hope so!” Jun bent down and scooped up her son, settling him on her hip. “This is your uncle, Daisuke. He’s my little brother.”
“Ojisan Daisuke?” The little boy wrinkled his nose. “How come I never met him, Mama? I know Ojisan Jyou and Mimi-bachan, an’ I know Ojisan Yama and Jichan Tai, an’ I know Obasan Sora and Miya-bachan, an’ all my other aunts and uncles, but I don’t know Ojisan Daisuke.”
Daisuke blinked as Izumi rattled off the list of names without pausing for breath. Jun’s son exhibited quite a few Motomiya traits it seemed.
“Daisuke has been at school in America,” Jun said with a smile, poking the boy on the tip of the nose. “Now he’s all done and he came home to visit.” Looking up at Daisuke questioningly, she added, “I thought your plane wasn’t getting in till three.”
“The flight got in early and I thought I’d surprise everyone. Where’re Okaasan and Otousan?”
“Out grocery shopping.” Jun laughed, a hint of her familiar madcap humour in her eyes. “When you told them you were coming home, they figured they’d better stock up the pantry for your hollow leg.”
Groaning, Daisuke buried his face in his hands. “Aneki! I was eighteen years old when I left. I really don’t eat that much anymore.”
Jun arched an eyebrow in disagreement. “Uh-huh, sure. Don’t try and tell that to a married woman, Dai-chan; I am still trying to figure out where Shuu puts it all.”
Daisuke grinned at her expression, shaking his head. It felt good to talk with his sister again, face to face. Though their relationship had been strained at times, he had always known, deep down, that Jun would be there for him—and that she would always be “Jun.”
Smiling at Izumi, who was looking him over with a curious frown, he asked, “So, is it all right if I come in?”
In typical three-year-old style, Izumi frowned and thought about it for a moment. “Do you have candy, Daisuke-jisan?”
He really is too much like me at that age. As if by magic, Daisuke passed his hands together and produced a cellophane covered sucker. “Will this do?”
Izumi’s eyes lit up and he squirmed from his mother’s grasp. “Yatta!”
“Izumi, what do you say?” Jun asked sternly as the boy reached for the candy.
Beaming brightly up at his newly met uncle, the boy chirped in syllabant child fashion, “A-ri-ga-to-u go-za-i-ma-su!”
“You’re welcome,” Daisuke chuckled, relinquishing the sucker.
Jun sighed as her son scampered inside with his sweet. “You’re going to spoil him rotten, aren’t you?”
“Every chance I get,” Daisuke replied cheerfully, picking up his bags once again. “I have three years to make up for, after all. My room still free?”
“Kaasan and Tousan haven’t changed a thing.”
“That’s nice.” He paused to toe his shoes off and change into house slippers before heading up into the main room of the apartment. “I’m hooome!” he carolled before heading off towards his room.
Closing the door and leaning against it with a sigh, Jun smiled fondly at her little brother’s retreating back. “Welcome home, Dai-chan. Welcome home.”
Daisuke’s parents returned home, and a celebratory dinner was prepared with a full family effort. When Shuu finally made it to the apartment, he found his wife wrestling with Daisuke on the floor over a can of powder sugar-covered hard candy, his son cheering them on.
“Are you twenty-six or six?” he asked Jun with a laugh, setting his briefcase down and taking his coat off.
“Six!” she declared with a brilliant peal of laughter, jumping up to help him remove his jacket. “Welcome back, anata,” she murmured with a bow.
“Stop that.” Shuu blushed faintly as he grabbed her hand, leading her back into the main room.
Izumi had taken Jun’s place, and the wrestling session had quickly devolved into a tickle war, the candy lying forgotten in a corner where it had been tossed. From Daisuke’s howls of laughter, Izumi was winning.
“How was your flight, Daisuke-kun?” Shuu asked, peering down at the young man with a grin.
“Great…fine! Ouch, Izumi, tickling’s okay, but don’t pinch.”
“Sorry, Jichan,” the boy said with a sheepish grin.
Shuu laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t pick on Daisuke too much, Izumi.”
“Yes, Papa!”
Motomiya Reiko paused in the doorway of the kitchen, a blissful smile on her face as she took in the living room full of smiling, happy people. Her eyes were a bit sad, though, as she turned to her husband. “We should have been home more when they were younger, Tetsuro.”
“Can’t live our lives on ‘should haves,’” Tetsuro replied, placing a hand on her shoulder. “All that matters is that they’re here with us now.”
“You’re right.” Reiko sighed, straightening her apron. “Dinner’s ready!”
Daisuke and Izumi stopped in mid-tickle, each wearing an ecstatic grin. “I’ll beat you to the table,” Daisuke dared the boy with a grin.
“Will not!” Izumi retorted, jumping up and making a mad dash for the table. Daisuke followed with a laugh right on his heels.
Dinner was a loud, boisterous affair, littered with numerous wild tales from both Jun and Daisuke. After a while, though, things subsided as the family cleared the dishes and returned to a more sedate setting in the living room.
Reiko brought out a tray with rice balls and tea, setting them down on the middle of the table. “So, Daisuke, what are your plans?” she asked, setting out the cups and pouring tea.
“Mostly to get in a couple of months of rest and relaxation,” Daisuke said with a small sigh. “Between work and school for the past four years, I’ve had no more than a stolen weekend here and there to myself.”
Shuu smiled at his brother-in-law, giving him a teasing look over the rim of his glasses. “Of course, changing your major in the middle of your second year probably didn’t help things.”
“It only took two summer sessions and a winter interim to get caught up,” the auburn-haired man muttered, a flush staining his dark cheeks. “It wasn’t that expensive, either, since my soccer scholarship paid for most of my fall and spring semesters, and what that didn’t cover my drama and art scholarships did. My job on campus paid for the extra sessions, so unlike some of my fellow classmates, I got lucky; I don’t have too huge a pile of debt waiting for me when I enter the workforce.”
“Speaking of workforce…” Tetsuro looked up from his newspaper, a small grin on his face. “What are you going to do with that degree of yours, Daisuke?”
“Don’t know for sure yet, Tousan,” he said, frowning at the rice balls sitting in the centre of the table; they were really tempting. “I mean, it’s a psychology degree with a double emphasis in business and criminology; I could consult on everything from product advertisement and the social environment of the work place, to profiling criminals and trying to establish their motives.”
Jun laughed, shaking her head in amusement. “Who’d have thought my little brother would grow up and major in psychology, as well as get an associate’s in art. That has to be one of the oddest combinations ever.”
“Nope, there’s one even odder,” Daisuke retorted with a familiar grin of mischief. “My roommate second year was a double major in quantum physics and math, as well as a minor in art.”
Shuu nearly choked on his drink, raising an eyebrow. “That had to be an…interesting experience,” he said, trying to keep from laughing out right. “How did the two of you get paired together?”
Daisuke snickered and shrugged his shoulders. “Luck of the draw, I guess. The guy’s art was almost creepy, it was so technical and precise. But he sure had new and innovative ways to explain math when it began to seem too hard for me.
“What are the others up to?” he asked, suddenly changing the topic. No one was thrown off guard, though, since “abrupt topic change” had been a Daisuke habit for years.
Jun settled a sleeping Izumi in her arms, eyebrows drawn together as she thought. “Well, let’s see… You got the invitation to Hikari-chan and Takeru’s wedding, right?”
“Yeah. It’s sometime in August. Takeru wrote me an e-mail that was hilarious about how Hikari-chan had to make sure their wedding date was approved by a Shinto priest, a Buddhist monk, as well as Gennai and his multiple offshoots.”
“Jyou is moving into an office with the man he did his medical internship with and should start practising in a week or two.” Shuu smiled slyly, saying, “I think he’s almost gotten up the nerve to ask Mimi if she’ll marry him.”
“Well, they’ve only been living together for how long? I mean, I realise that Mimi was worried about hurting his career, but after they had Hanako, I would have thought they’d have gotten married. How’s Mimi doing with her design business, anyway?” Daisuke asked, giving in to temptation and snagging one of the rice balls.
“Pretty good for someone only twenty-five years old,” Jun said with a laugh. “She’s designed the dresses I’ve worn to the college faculty Christmas Gala for the past four years, and that’s helped her to gain a fairly respectable clientele. And, of course, little Hanako is a complete darling; I’ve never seen a toddler with such a sweet temperament.”
“What about Sora-san, and Miyako?”
Daisuke’s mother smiled at the mention of Miyako’s name. “Miyako-chan stopped by just last week. She left a present for you, since she was heading out of town and won’t be back for a couple days.”
“She said to say ‘Hey, brat, I found these and thought you’d want them. Stick around long enough to visit or I’ll kick your butt,’” Jun added with a laugh.
Daisuke grinned and shook his head. “That geek. Did she really say ‘kick your butt’ or did you change that?”
Jun put on her ‘mother’ expression, both eyebrows raised. “There is a child present, Otouto. And you know Miyako well enough to know what she’d really say.”
“She’s doing well at her job working for Sony,” Reiko gushed. “She’s already moved up to the position of Sound Editing Production Assistant. She’s also been offered jobs by Toei, Square, and Bandai, but she doubts that she’ll leave anytime soon.”
“Isn’t Koushirou-san working for Sony now?” Daisuke asked, smiling as Izumi rolled over in his sleep and accidentally pulled his mother’s hair.
“Yeah.” Jun winced, untangling her son’s fingers from her shoulder-length locks. “He’s consulting with three different company branches, I think, working on security systems.”
“And he’s still working on unlocking the mysteries of the D-3 and D-terminal,” Shuu added. “Sora’s helping her dad out this semester at the college before going back on the tennis circuit. She thinks this will be her last year, though, since she’s tired of all the travel, and she’d like to help her mom out more with the flower shop.”
“Iori’s attending college at Tokyo University, and he’s turning into a little history sponge. Takeru came by with him the other day, and I think Iori spent the entire lunch relating the facts of the Shinsengumi. He could tell you who led what division, how long they’d been there, their personal history, their sword technique, and how they died,” Jun said with a hint of exasperation.
Laughing at her expression, Daisuke said, “Well, he practically slept, ate, and breathed kendo, so I’m not surprised he has the Shinsengumi history memorized.”
“Yamato’s still cranking out songs.” Jun smiled fondly. “Taichi was joking the last time we met for dinner that he was going to be married to a rock star for life.” Suddenly, her eyes widened and she smiled mischievously. “Oh, god, you’re going to die when you hear this! I can’t believe I almost forgot. Taichi—Mr. ‘Genki-is-a-trademark-and-I-have-the-license-and-copyright’—is taking diplomacy classes!”
Daisuke gaped in astonishment before breaking into laughter. “Taichi being diplomatic? Heh, our idea of diplomacy is to give two seconds warning before we run someone over!”
He sobered slightly after a moment, settling deeper into the couch. “Although, I’ve gotta admit, I’ve learned to think before opening my mouth a lot more than I used to—kind of had to in order to get my degree—so it shouldn’t be much of a surprise.”
He yawned suddenly, and covered his mouth in surprise. “Wow. Guess the time difference is catching up with me.”
“Yes, you’ve had a long day,” said Reiko, smiling fondly. “Why don’t you go ahead and go to bed, Dai-chan? Your father and I don’t have anything planned for tomorrow, so sleep as long as you like.”
“Thanks, Kaasan.” Daisuke grinned as he stood and stretched, glad to among family. “I’ll see you later, Aneki, Shuu. G’night everyone.”
Walking back to his room, he closed the door with a sigh. He stripped down to his boxers and checked the air conditioner temperature, turning it down a notch. Flipping the light off, he toed his slippers off and fell into his bed, not even bothering with the sheets. It’s good to be home, he thought with a sleepy smile before his eyes slid shut and all thought ceased.
It was nearly three days later when Daisuke received the shock of his life. He was sprawled out on the couch reading the latest monthly copy of “Jump” and nibbling on a stick of Pocky when he noticed a small, square package on top of his mother’s magazine stack. Curious, he set the comic aside and went to take a look, grinning when he read the tag. ‘To: Brat, From: Geek’
Must be the present Kaasan told me about. Can’t believe I forgot about something as important as that. He picked up the present and returned to the couch to open it.
It wasn’t very large but it was fairly heavy, and was decorated with tiny Poromons sticking out their tongues. It looked odd but it did make him laugh, which had probably been Miyako’s intention. He pulled the paper off and found a note tucked into the seam of the top.
‘Hey, Daisuke!
Heard from your mom and sister that you were finally coming back to visit. I was beginning to wonder if a mouldering corpse in some dorm room in America was writing your e-mails, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you! Anyway, this is your welcome home present from me. Hikari-chan actually took the first picture and we found it while going through some old boxes of hers last week. The other picture I found at Mimi’s and I thought if anyone should have it, it should be you. Although, I was really tempted to keep it for myself, it’s so drool-worthy—so I hope you appreciate me, brat! ^_^
I’ll be back in town around the ninth, so expect a visit, and expect me to throttle you for every last detail.
—Miyako’
Daisuke was now extremely curious. If there were pictures in the present, Miyako must have framed them before putting them in the box. Ripping the tape on top, he pulled the topmost picture from the shredded paper packing, and smiled in memory at the moment Hikari had managed to capture on film.
It was a picture taken in Odaiba Park during the evening about nine years ago. Daisuke sat with his back to the tree, Chibimon in his lap. Both wore smiles as Daisuke pointed out something in the distance to the little digimon.
That was a happy day for both of us. It was the first time Chibimon had ever eaten shaved ice, and he got it all over. Heh, he had blue all around his mouth from the flavouring and he’d been worried it would stain permanently.
He’d have to thank both Miyako and Hikari for the photo; the moment captured was a fond one.
Reaching back into the box, he pulled out the second photograph and brushed the clinging paper strips off. He frowned when he saw that it was wrapped in heavy paper, and snorted when he saw the note written in Miyako’s elaborate kana with bright red marker.
‘Thought it would be easy, huh? I’m making you work for this one, brat! ^_~ I’ll have you know that I had to beg and plead with Mimi to part with this, so I figured that you should have to put a little effort into this as well. Don’t worry, it’s worth it!’
“Ch’, Miyako no baka…” Daisuke flipped the picture over to find the seams of the paper. He grabbed an edge and tore it, peeling the paper off.
Flipping it back over, he glanced at the image and had to do a double take. With eyes that slowly widened as he took in the image, he first held the picture to his nose, and then as far away as possible. No matter what he did, though, the image remained the same. “I don’t believe it,” he muttered out loud, not even realising it.
Gripping the photo, he ran to the phone and punched in Jun’s number.
Jun was struggling to get Izumi to take his nap when the phone rang. She frowned as her son took the opportunity the momentary distraction afforded to scamper into hiding, but went to answer the phone anyway.
“Moshi moshi?”
“Aneki, what the hell is this?! Er, moshi moshi. This is your brother, by the way.”
“I guessed that,” Jun said dryly, returning the phone to an ear she could hear from. “And what are you talking about, Daisuke?”
“This picture!” Daisuke snapped, as if it should explain everything.
“What picture? Daisuke, I have no idea what you’re talking about!”
Daisuke sighed. “The present Miyako left for me was two photographs; one from when I was a kid with Chibimon, and the other… Ch’, what the hell is Ken doing lying two-thirds dressed on a white sheet and surrounded by rose petals? Rose petals!”
It took Jun a moment to take in what Daisuke was saying. “Oh. Oh! Miyako must have been looking through Mimi’s photo shoot collection. Didn’t you know?” she asked with a frown.
“Know? Know what? The last time I heard from Ken was two and a half weeks ago, and all he said was that things were fine and he was thinking about studying Mexican cuisine.”
Jun’s eyes widened at that. “Ken-kun started modelling for Mimi’s ads and catalogue about five months ago. I can’t believe he didn’t tell you.”
Daisuke clutched the picture to his chest, the image burned into his mind even when he closed his eyes. “Neither can I.”
After hanging up with his sister, he thought about dialling Ken’s number to demand an answer, but his hand hesitated over the phone and he decided against it.
Sighing, he went back to the couch and threw himself down, bringing the picture into view once again. There was no mistaking the long, ebony hair that fanned out across the draped sheet, nor was there any mistaking the lidded blue-violet eyes and shyly seductive smile. It was the pose that was disturbing Daisuke’s peace of mind, though; the languid sprawl, one arm over his head, the other over his abdomen, fingers splayed on his bare stomach. The black jeans he wore rode low on his hips, the top button undone, and the dark crimson tanktop rode high, exposing quite a bit of smooth, pale skin. The white dress shirt was gauzy, see-through, and was worn completely unbuttoned, the sleeves rolled up.
The eyes and faint smile said “Come closer,” while the pose said “Take me, I’m yours.” And Daisuke, lightly tracing a finger over the image, wondered just how many had taken up that offer in the four years he’d been gone.
There was a time that look was mine. Ken…why? Why didn’t you tell me? And why now? What else haven’t you been telling me?
Taichi was actually the first to visit Daisuke that week, two days after Daisuke had found the evocative picture of Ken, and he came with little Natsue and Touma in tow. The twins were nearing the terrible two’s as the brunette warned him when Daisuke let them in.
Chibimon had returned from his visit to the Digitalworld, and he sat on his Chosen’s shoulder, peering down into the stroller in curiosity. “Did you look that that once, Daishuke?” he asked.
Daisuke chuckled and shook his head. “Heh, I didn’t get that cute till later. Naa, Taichi, are you sure your cousin didn’t really sleep with Yamato?”
“Positive,” Taichi said dryly from his sprawled position on the couch. “Why do you ask, though?”
Twin sets of clear, brilliant blue eyes watched Chibimon and Daisuke curiously, unwaveringly. “Because I swear those are his eyes they have.”
“They do look like his,” the brunette murmured. “Personally, I consider it a coincidental bonus. I mean, I was completely shocked when Maiko approached us with the idea of raising her children, but… Hell, Dai-kun, you know my mothering streak! She refused to have an abortion, but she knew she couldn’t take care of the children herself—and that was before she knew she was having twins! And with Yama gone on tour this past year…” He smiled fondly, shaking his head. “These two—and Agumon and Gabumon—have been the only things keeping me sane.”
Natsue leaned forward in the stroller, her tiny hands gripping the sides as she scowled at Taichi. “Touchan, Natsue out!”
Touma leaned forward as well, though he was grinning as he thumped the sides with his fists. “Touma out, Touchan! Out, out!”
Taichi groaned good-naturedly and got to his feet. “Okay, munchkins, I’ll let you out. Just try not to break anything?”
The pair smiled innocently and nodded as he set them down. “Okay!” came the chorused chirp.
“For some reason I don’t believe you,” Taichi muttered as he returned to his seat.
Natsue crawled forward to where Chibimon had jumped down to the floor. She tipped her head to the side, tiny pigtails of dark brown hair bobbing as she looked him over; Chibimon mimicked her, red eyes blinking curiously. Hesitantly she reached out and poked him in the belly; Chibimon squeaked in surprise and giggled. A smile lit up the child’s face as she squealed, “Digimon!” and glomped the poor, startled Chibimon.
“Now she’s going to want a Chibimon too,” Taichi said with a resigned sigh. “She’s already got a Koromon, a Tsunomon, and a Salamon on her Christmas list. Sorry I forgot to warn you, Daisuke; Natsue’s recently become obsessed with In-Training level digimon—thinks they’re absolutely the neatest thing since Yama’s Spontaneous Casserole.”
Daisuke chuckled as Touma joined in on the Chibimon-mauling session. “I’ll remember to have him evolve to Veemon the next time you visit.”
“How’d he handle being in America?” Taichi asked curiously, keeping a careful watch on his children to make sure they didn’t get too rough.
“Not very well, really,” the auburn-haired man replied ruefully. “He’d be fine for awhile, but especially near the end of every semester when I’d be working on final papers and studying for final tests, he’d get really depressed because I couldn’t spend time with him. I’d usually call up Ken or Miyako then and have them pick him up in the Digitalworld and watch him for a while. At least, that way, he got to be with his friends for a bit.”
“How come you never came back and visited that way, huh?”
Daisuke pursed his lips. “It’s the strangest thing, Taichi—even Koushirou-san can’t figure it out yet, and he’s been working on it for four years. I could open the Digital Gate and let Chibimon through, but I couldn’t go through. Shuu has a theory-in-progress that it’s because America is lacking the same huge spiritual base with ties to the Digitalworld like we have here in Japan that it didn’t work.” He flashed a grin. “Believe me, I was disappointed; I was hoping to save on airfare!”
Taichi laughed at that, shaking his head. “I swear, Daisuke, if we live to be a hundred, you’ll never change.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” Daisuke retorted, arching an eyebrow. “You know, most people love my boyish charm and good looks.”
The brunette flashed him a crooked grin. “Dai-kun…”
“What?”
“Nothing,” Taichi said with a slight sigh. “Speaking of people who love your boyish charm and good looks, have you spoken to Ken yet?”
Daisuke flinched, glancing away. “N-not yet,” he said hesitantly.
Both eyebrows rose at that comment. “Have you even tried to contact him, Daisuke?”
Smoky-brown eyes turned to him, wary, tinged with a wounded air that made Taichi instantly on alert. “I’ve tried to call twice,” Daisuke said softly. “The first time, the line was busy, and the second time there was no answer.”
Now Taichi was really worried. Before Daisuke had left for college, he and Ken had been so close, so tight with one another, that even he had been jealous of their relationship; and his relationship with Yamato was quite close. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and gave Daisuke his full attention. “All right, Dai-kun, spill. What’s going on?”
“Truthfully? I’m not sure.” Daisuke made an attempt at smiling as he watched Touma try to balance Chibimon on his head. “It’s just, kind of, this feeling I have. I mean, after finding that picture of Ken a couple days ago and talking with Aneki… I think”—he flushed slightly—“I think that Ken’s been lying to me. Or, at least, there’re a lot of things he hasn’t been telling me.”
Taichi let out a low whistle. “That’s a pretty hefty accusation.”
“I know. Believe me, I’ve thought about it a lot, and that’s part of the reason I came to that conclusion.” Daisuke looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading. “I’m scared, Taichi. Ken…Ken’s been the light in my life since I was twelve years old. I didn’t…I didn’t even realise that anything was wrong, you know?” He sighed, burying his face in his hands. “I swear, sometimes I’m just as stupid as I was when I was twelve.”
“Don’t say that!” Taichi snapped sharply; the last thing he needed to deal with was a depressed Daisuke. “You are not, nor were you ever, stupid, Motomiya Daisuke. I have the invite to your graduation that says you graduated Magna Cum Laude, remember? And as for this thing with Ken, you’ve been gone for four years! Give it some time to work itself out; and believe me, even after something as minor as a two week separation, you have a lot of things to work out.”
Daisuke nodded, biting his lip. “It’s just…it hurts, Tai.”
Taichi smiled wryly. “Love does that.”
“Yeah.” The auburn-haired man murmured that admission so quietly that Taichi almost missed it. The children and Chibimon went on playing obliviously, their cheer barely making a dent in the dark cloud that was beginning to form around him.
Hang in there, my friend. You two have been through so much together, don’t give up now.
Cuando anochezca When the night falls
Te esperare I will wait for you
Quiero volverte loco esta noche I want to drive you crazy tonight
Con la luna llena With the full moon
Te esperare I will wait for you
Hoy moriras entre mis brazos Today you will die in my arms
Nunca sonaras de mi aun igual Never will you dream of me the same
Later that night, Daisuke lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. Chibimon was curled up peacefully on his belly, a familiar Cheshire expression of contentment on his too-cute face.
He turned his gaze to the phone beside him, a deep sigh slipping from his lips unnoticed. Three more times he’d tried calling since Taichi had left, and all three times there had been no answer. At least the answering machine picked up this time…
But he didn’t want to talk to an answering machine; he wanted to talk to Ken. More than talking to Ken, he wanted to see the boy.
Man, he reminded himself. Both of us…both of us have grown up. We’re not little boys anymore, but I…I still love him. He pressed his fist to his chest, feeling the slow throb of his heart beneath. I know that, in here. Your heart, with mine—always, Ken, no matter what.
It hurt, it really did. He was beginning to feel so many doubts, so many insecurities that he had thought long since gone. He remembered the fight with Belial Vamdemon, remembered how he had been the only one without insecurities for the evil Virus digimon to prey on. What happened to that boy? he wondered, smoky eyes clouding. That boy, who loved and was loved, who cared and was cared for? What happened to that carefree boy who knew so certainly what he wanted in life?
At the moment, there weren’t many things that Motomiya Daisuke was sure of. He had no idea what direction his life was going to take, he had no idea what sort of speed bumps and potholes were going to be in his path, he had no way of knowing if he was even going anywhere.
He was certain of one thing, though. He wanted Ichijouji Ken, no matter what; he needed Ichijouji Ken, no matter what.
But he wasn’t certain that Ichijouji Ken wanted or needed him. And that thought, with tears slowly leaking from the corners of his eyes unnoticed, was what accompanied Daisuke into sleep.
Inoue Miyako woke up at the crack of dawn with a smile on her face. Well, she considered ten in the morning the crack of dawn since it was well before when she usually woke up when she was on vacation, and she was smiling. Her best friend was back in town after four years of being gone, and they had a lot of catching up to do.
“He’s probably changed a lot,” she murmured to her companion, who walked carefully beside her down the street.
“Oh, I don’t know, Miyako,” Hawkmon said. “Daisuke has always seemed like the kind of person who would remain the same, no matter what.”
“I don’t mean deep down, Hawkmon. After all, if he changed that much, he just wouldn’t be Motomiya Daisuke anymore. But it’s been four years since I last saw him outside of a photo here and there. And he was on a growth spurt when he left, so I’m sure he’s a lot taller, too.”
Hawkmon patted her arm reassuringly, smiling in a way that only birds can. “Don’t worry, Miyako. I’m certain that things will be all right. The last time we talked with Veemon, he said that Daisuke was happy and doing well.”
Miyako smiled ruefully. “I know. It’s just…it’s kind of like how Misao threatens to kill all those boys that break my heart, you know? I feel really protective of Daisuke, even if he is twenty-three now. It’ll probably always be that way.”
They continued the walk silently, entering the apartment building and settling into the elevator. When they reached the end of the hallway and stood in front of the Motomiya apartment, Miyako was a little startled to find there was a note attached to the door, addressed to her.
It was from Jun, left not more than an hour ago. And as Miyako began to scan the contents, she couldn’t help but smile a little despite what it said; Jun had written it in that commanding, take-no-prisoners tone that only an older sibling or a parent could muster.
‘Miyako-chan—
I hate to drop this on your shoulders, but the fact of the matter is that my parents and I are about ready to pull our hair out. Something’s up with Daisuke, and he’s not talking about it with any of us. Since the day after he got back, he’s done nothing but mope and be depressed, and we don’t even know why! I’ve tried Pocky bribes, I’ve tried annoying it out of him, and I’ve even tried threatening him. You’re kind of our last hope in this. Knock some sense into my otouto-chan before I’m forced to do something drastic like throw him out the apartment window!
Yours,
Kidou Jun
P.S. Don’t hurt him too badly. Blood stains, you know. ^_^’
What could have happened? Miyako wondered. Daisuke had sounded fine enough when she’d talked to him on the phone, earlier.
Hawkmon tugged on her coat to gain her attention. “Miyako, what’s wrong?”
She smiled down at him, tucking the note into her pocket. “I don’t know, Hawkmon, but we’re going to find out.” That said, she raised her hand and knocked on the door.
It took a moment, but then the door was opened and there stood Motomiya Daisuke, bigger and even better looking than she had remembered.
Smiling up at him, Miyako planted her fists on her hips and said saucily, “No fair! You got taller than me!”
“It was bound to happen some day,” Daisuke returned, tone lofty. Then he grinned and said, “Besides, you finally got a figure. What are you complaining for?”
“Oh, you!” She swung at him playfully, laughing the whole while. He caught her fist easily, pulling her inside the apartment and into a hug. “I’ve missed you, Dai-kun,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck as he picked her up off her feet.
“I missed you too, Miya-chan.” Setting her back down on her feet, he poked the tip of her nose with a fond smile. “I had no one over there to gossip with. Not to mention the fact that I had no one to keep me in line without you and Aneki there.” He looked over at Hawkmon, who was standing uncertainly in the doorway. “Come on in, Hawkmon, I don’t bite!”
“I never thought you did!” Hawkmon retorted tartly. He stepped inside, closing the door.
“I see his sense of humour hasn’t gotten much better,” Daisuke muttered under his breath.
Miyako shrugged, grinning. “What can I say? I’ve done the best I know how to. Where’s Veemon?”
“Hiding out in my room as Chibimon. He takes up less space that way, and he got rather used to it while we were over in America; they thought he was less threatening that way. He got a lot of mileage on him with Taichi’s twins the other day.”
“I bet! I swear, those two definitely have the Yagami genki factor going on.”
After taking her coat and shoes off, Miyako followed Daisuke into the living room, where he flopped down onto the couch with a heartfelt sigh. She arched an eyebrow at that, but said nothing; she’d let him start the conversation and work from there.
“So what’s new in your life, Miyako? Still dating that French guy?”
Miyako made a face. “Not only no, but hell no. He made some rather derisive comments when he found out I live with Sora, and I took offence; you know I don’t like close-minded people.”
Daisuke grimaced, remembering well an incident that had happened in high school. “How are things going at home? I remember Shuu saying that she was thinking of dropping the tennis circuit and helping her mom out.”
“That’s what she’s telling everyone else,” she said with a sigh. “But really, Sora would like to join up with Mimi. She has quite good taste in fashion, and she may not have your talent for drawing but she’s not bad. Sora’s afraid of disappointing her mom, though, even though her father’s urged her to do what she wants with her life.”
“That sucks. But I kind of know how she feels; I mean, here I am with this psychology degree and an associate’s in art, and I haven’t a clue what the hell I’m going to do with it. My parents want me to choose a career that I can make a good living from, but I want to do something that will make me happy.”
“Well, you like to help people,” Miyako pointed out. “Have you ever thought about law enforcement? You could sketch suspects, or even go and get your master’s and become a profiler.”
Smoky-brown eyes blinked in surprise. “You know, I mentioned that before, but I never really thought about that aspect seriously.” He flashed her a crooked grin. “Thanks, Miyako.”
“You’re welcome, Dai-kun. So what have you been up to since you got back? Out terrorising old haunts?”
“Not really. As a matter of fact, I haven’t gone much of anywhere at all. Taichi and Yamato want to take me out downtown, but I put them off for a while. And Takeru called just before you showed up to invite me to dinner with him and Hikari the night after tomorrow. Other than that, I’ve just been catching up with my family.”
“Naa, did you bring any of your art back with you? I mean, I have all those images on my computer of the stuff you scanned and sent to me, but I was kind of hoping to see the real thing.”
Daisuke flushed slightly. “I had to ship it all back as cheap as possible; I had quite a bit, after four years. I’m hoping it will get here in the next day or two.”
Pregnant silence fell between them after that. Miyako’s brow furrowed as she watched her friend fidget, hands knotted together, head bowed. There was something that was bothering him, that much was obvious, but she had a feeling—call it her inherited trait as the Keeper of Love—that she knew what was bothering him. She didn’t really want to bring it up, didn’t want to cause him more pain, but it needed to be done; Daisuke would drive himself and those around him insane unless she did.
“Daisuke?”
She waited until he looked up at her, eyes wary. Miyako smiled gently, put all of the care she felt for him into her honey eyes, and said softly, “What about Ken?”
She knew for certain as soon as the words slipped free; Daisuke’s entire demeanour crumpled as he turned away from her, hugging his arms close to his body. Opening her mouth to say something further, she was distracted by a crashing noise that came from down the hall.
Wiping at his eyes briefly to make sure there was no betraying moisture, Daisuke rose to his feet. “I’d better go see what happened,” he muttered, darting down the hall towards his room.
Miyako frowned as she watched him go, eyes narrowed. You’re not getting away that easily, Motomiya.
Daisuke pushed open the door to his room, peering inside. Chibimon looked back at him guiltily, red eyes wide. “Okay, Chibimon, what happened?”
“We didn’t mean to, Daishuke!” Chibimon wailed, running forward and attaching himself to Daisuke’s foot. “Hawkmon and I were looking at the pictures and the one fell of the desktop and broke and then I wasn’t sure what to do and I panicked and, and, and—
Daisuke picked him up with a little laugh, looking over at Hawkmon who shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. “Chibimon, you’re babbling.”
“I was?” Chibimon blinked at that, considering it a moment. “Yeah, I guess I was. Sorry, Daishuke.”
“It’s okay,” he said, rubbing the little Vaccine digimon’s ears. “Are you both all right?”
“I picked up the worst of the glass, Daisuke-san,” Hawkmon said. “However, I wouldn’t recommend walking in here barefoot until you vacuum.”
“Thanks,” Daisuke said, giving the bird digimon a lopsided grin. “Why don’t you and Chibimon go and have some of the brownies my mom made? They’re out on the table.”
“Yay!” Chibimon hopped down from his Chosen Child’s arms, scurrying from the room as fast as his stubby legs would carry him. “Hawkmon, hurry up, hurry up!”
Daisuke chuckled, shaking his head. “You’d better go before he eats them all.”
Hawkmon nodded, eyes wide in horror at that prospect. “Right!” he snapped before he dashed out the door.
Watching where he stepped, Daisuke made his way over to his desk and the fallen picture. He picked it up carefully, gaze flickering to the image as he set it back on the desk. He tried to keep his heart from constricting—he really, truly tried—but he couldn’t help the painful, tightening sensation that seized him.
He and Ken, after-graduation party. All of the Chosen Children, including those already graduated and Iori, had hit the clubs that night. As Yamato had teased them all, it was their moment to cut loose before they woke up the next day and realised that they had to be responsible adults now. Taichi had cheekily pointed out later, after an extended make-out session on the middle of the dance floor, that he and the other Chosen Children still hadn’t woken up to that day, so they didn’t need to be in a hurry.
That night… That night had been absolutely wonderful. They’d danced and partied till they couldn’t stand up, and then they’d all collapsed at Mimi’s house for the night. But while they’d danced—while he and Ken had danced—it had been, to put it simply, magic. He could still remember clearly holding the slender, wiry boy in his arms, could remember the scent of his tousled inky hair, the taste of his pale skin and kiss-bruised lips.
He wasn’t certain who’d taken the picture. Most likely, it had been Hikari; she did things like that. Whoever it had been, he’d never noticed their presence as they’d captured to film the image of Ken cradling Daisuke’s tanned face in his bird-boned hands, pale violet eyes bright with emotion, lips smiling before he touched them to Daisuke’s own.
And now that image was ringed by jagged glass, and Daisuke couldn’t help but wonder if it was an omen. His legs gave way beneath him, and he abruptly found himself seated on the edge of his bed, trembling. Giving up the effort of maintaining his mask, Daisuke cradled his face in his hands and allowed the tears to trickle between his fingers as they willed. Ken…what’s happened to us? Why won’t you talk to me?
Miyako almost cried as she watched Daisuke from the doorway; watched him pick up the photograph and set it on the desk, watched how expression changed and faltered as he stared at it, watched him fall to the bed without so much as a sob and give in to the tears she’d known he’d been harbouring.
She stepped into the room and sat beside him, wrapping her arms around him, letting him bury his face in the crook of her neck. “Have you tried to call him?” she asked softly, running her hand up and down his back soothingly.
“I t-tried,” he sniffled, clenching his eyes shut. The tears leaked past despite his efforts, dripping down his cheeks to be soaked up by Miyako’s shirt. “A-all I ever g-get is the a-answering machine. I don’t w-want ta talk to some s-stupid machine! I wanna t-talk ta him!” He broke off, unconsciously clenching her shirt in his hands. In a hoarse whisper, he added, “I d-don’t understand what’s goin’ on.”
Miyako wasn’t sure that she had any better of an idea than Daisuke did. True, she’d seen the ebon-haired boy often enough, and they did talk since they were both close to Daisuke, but Ken had never really mentioned their relationship. And, despite all of the Chosen Children’s best efforts over the years, there was no one that Ken was open with completely other than Daisuke. She could understand it if they’d grown apart a bit—after all, Daisuke had been in America for the past four years—but she couldn’t understand why he was lying to Daisuke. Well, maybe it wasn’t exactly lying, but she couldn’t understand why he hadn’t told Daisuke about what was going on.
If she got her hands on Ichijouji Ken any time soon, she was going to give him quite a piece of her mind. She wasn’t going to let him get away with making Daisuke cry, not like this, not without an explanation.
Daisuke continued to cry softly as Miyako held him, thoughts a million miles away. Why, Ken-chan? Why?
[Part II]
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