Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For the first two weeks, Ren is obediently willing to let his friend sulk.

He even pulls Airu away from doing something about it. She glares and he says with as much patience as he can muster (which is none) that Ryouma is an idiot. Therefore he will not go out of his sulk kicking and screaming because someone said "get over it". He has to figure it out himself. If he doesn't after two weeks, well, he loses all rights to hiding, because it's been two weeks and that's too darn long.

That's when he breaks down his friend's door and drags him outside. He doesn't know where the goggle wearing idol of apparently the entire freaking universe has gone but he's going to find him.

Ryouma protests the entire time, of course, but what no one knows about Ryouma is that he can pitch a fit like the best of them and Ren purposefully takes the long way to the school so h is friend can blow off steam.

He doesn't admit to Ren that he's grateful for that. Ren doesn't ask.

Of course, and Ren knows that luck is never on his side, said gogglehead, whose name he doesn't care to know, is by himself. He's just leaned against the fence, blinking like an innocent owl, and smiling. He probably doesn't get the problem, the moron. Why does his friend admire morons?

Stupid question, he already knows the answer to it too.

Ren sees Ryouma hesitate, like the nice guy face will warp to a demon's or something, and pushes him so he almost topples over.

"Stop bein' an idiot and go." He pauses. "Or I'll let Airu dye your hair pink."

Ryouma glares and Ren shrugs. He will. It's been the plan all along. Don't listen to Ren, walk around the school pink for a few months. (Well, red, but knowing Ryouma's hair, it will be pink.)

"You act like it's easy."

Ren snorts. "Dude, attempted murder isn't just something that falls by the wayside." Ryouma winces and Ren almost feels guilty. Almost, but not really.

It will work out in the end, it always does.

Chapter Text

She still teases him about the heart.

He still teases her about the hair clip.

It's a code to mock the rest of the world when they go too far or say too much.

Because Taichi needs to cut his hair.

Because Sora isn't girly enough yet.

Neither of them care.

She wears the skirts and fails her first tennis tryout. He lets her kick a soccer ball at badly taken photos of the girls and their sneering faces. Neither of them tell her mother.

He becomes captain of the soccer team and she celebrates by shoving ice down his shirt.

These are the things they do without Yamato, because as far as Sora knows, Yamato won't let her brush his hair, as Taichi will (to pretend she can fix it) and he wouldn't quite manage to see why Taichi and Sora can yell at each other until they turn blue over nothing at all, and it will all still be okay even when it's not. (Which is quite strange, since he and Taichi can do so much worse to each other. Men, honestly.

Taichi and Sora love each other as much as they can, but in a way, they also can't. The way the world assumes is dangerous, and the way the world wants is painful. It's not complete and they don't want to be complete as two in one, but as they are, two in two.

Neither of them care about the walls they dance around. All they can see is the sky.

Chapter Text

Today is one of her better days.

Koh watches her skip, hop, giggle. She's almost an ordinary girl, running ahead of him in the puddles after the thunderstorm. She never tells him to hurry, never tells him to do anything anymore. Her socks are wet and all she does is turn to him, Owlmon eyes and curiosity.

Koh laughs and she turns away, childish in satisfaction. She takes off without waiting and he watches, smiles. He holds her goggles in one hand for when she wants them, if she wants them. He dangles her Digivice around his neck. She never asks for that, and he's content to let her forget.

Glare's eyes that morning said for him to hurry, but what he doesn't understand is that Koh simply can't.

Forcing her to remember will remind her that everyone is dead. Her main team, her precious babies who she had cared for more than Koh himself, were nothing more than unmoving eggs in a computer.

Koh doesn't want her to remember. The Digimon are for the Digital World. Sayo is in the real world, and Koh, in his selfish, stupid way, wants her to stay, and not try again.

All of the fun battles in the world won't make him want anything different.

She turns him again and he sees the scars from MirageGaogamon's accidental scrape, the jagged ends of her hair where Dorugoramon's protective hold sliced it off. He sees puffy eyelids and purple eyes that aren't any more alive than they are on the days where he can't get her out of bed.

He sees those and pockets her goggles. He sees those and smiles like she's okay and waits for the spark that doesn't ever show itself.

"Koh," she says and his heart hurts because this has to be temporary. Her speech is temporary. "Are you coming?"

Koh relaxes. Her eyes weren't on the digivice at all, but on him, just him. "Yeah, sorry!"

He can't hurry, he says to himself, because then Sayo will know he's lied.

Chapter Text

"You don't stir like that..."

"It's sugar, it's not delicate!"

Hideaki muffled a groan. "You'd be surprised."

He was just happy this wasn't his kitchen.

Tagiru huffed at him, flour messy on his lower arms. "Stop making smart comments and help!" he said, trying to whisk.

Hideaki pinched his nose. "I tried!" he said, then rubbing the top of his left hand. "You hit me with a spoon."

Tagiru pouted at him and stuck up his nose. "Fine. Be that way." He went back to whisking. Well, to be more accurate, he was getting cake mix on himself. "This is hard!"

Hideaki sighed and snatched the whisk. "This is why you are not a baker."

Tagiru pouted and crossed his arms, but didn't stop him this time. "I can cook some stuff."

"Cooking and baking are two totally different sciences," Hideaki said with a shrug. "You may be able to attempt one but not the other."

"Well, Taiki-san can do both!" Tagiru muttered, splashing water over his face from the sink.

"That's because he has a good sense of timing," Hideaki said, pretending to be patient, and not for the first time either. Tagiru glanced at him and rolled his eyes.

"You're only saying that because he didn't read your confession out-gah!" He hopped back, glowering and rubbing his shin. "That hurt!" Hideaki straightened, face burning.

"Then don't talk about that!" Hideaki moved on to the next ingredient. "I swear, you owe me for this."

"It's my kitchen!"

"And you clearly shouldn't be allowed to use it." Hideaki glanced up at the ceiling and grimaced. At least there was nothing up there.

Tagiru groaned. "I just wanna do it right."

"Well," drawled a voice. "If you want to do that, it would help if you didn't leave the recipe on the coffee table."

Hideaki had to choke back laughter as Yuu entered the room. Tagiru's face was priceless. Yuu peered at him and then grinned in Hideaki's direction. "I'll help him, don't worry."

Tagiru shot him a pleading look, and Hideaki almost gave in. Almost.

"Good luck," he said innocently, leaving the kitchen.

Some things just weren't worth the work.

Chapter Text

Tagiru tugged at his raincoat pocket, squinting at the label on the box. "His mom said nothing with sleep aid..." He was pretty sure this was the right stuff. Fishing in his pocket, he pulled out a key. Thinking about why he had this key in the first place made his ears burn, but he shoved that aside. Taiki-san needed the flu medicine... and porridge!

Porridge was gross, but Yuu said it and miso soup helped sick people feel better and Yuu was usually right with this sort of thing. Or at least he had been about the heating pad.

He peered inside. "Taiki-san! I'm intruding!" Well, not really, his senior knew he was coming.

Instead of Taiki answering, he heard a little squeaking mew from another room. Tagiru raised an eyebrow. He hoped that wasn't Taiki-san... Maybe a Digimon turned him into a cat while he was sleeping!

He decided not to think about that idea too much. Cause that was weird.

Reaching the meowing revealed a calico kitten inside of an opened box. It stared at him and mewled, eyes darting towards the water bowl.

Tagiru knelt. "Who are you?"

The kitten mewed again and he groaned. "Right, right, thirsty, got it..." He replaced the water bowl and then winced. "What was that for?" It retracted tiny claws and hissed, marching to the other side of the box and butting its tiny head against it. Tagiru followed that until he saw the couch.

Tagiru had to resist an incredible urge to facepalm. "Taiki-san..."

That explained it.

Taiki didn't stir at his voice, breathing slow, tiny breaths. He coughed in his sleep and curled more fully under the blanket.

Tagiru felt his face burn and looked away. Dang it. He took a deep breath. Okay, he just had to help Taiki-san, go mix the medicine in the porridge. Just focus on that. Do that and not stare at him while he's sleeping. Focus, Tagiru... Focus... don't be weird...

He managed it, after two attempts and a couple broken painkillers. The cat had stared at him over the box the entire time. He wasn't going to poison Taiki-san! Yeesh, stupid cat.

"It's your fault he's sick," he told it. She mewed at him, almost smug.

"My cat..." Taiki mumbled, and Tagiru almost dropped the bowl. "Don't tease it..."

Tagiru mentally filed that statement away for later. Yuu would appreciate it. "It thinks I'm going to poison you!"

Taiki made an odd movement beneath the blanket. "But I don't."

Tagiru flushed. "It's the principle of the thing, Taiki-san!"

"Mm..." Taiki made a sluggish effort to sit up. "I'm telling Yuu you stole that."

"Don't do that!"

Chapter Text

"You're smiling more."

It was an odd observation, casual, but someone said it, and that was a someone he was afraid to name out loud.

Nene said it, and it meant a great deal, but it was also fraught with barbs of teasing and a fair bit of playfulness that suited her and he knew was simply her way of being his friend.

"You really do have a nice smile."

For the person who said this, it probably didn't mean anything important, just exactly what they had said. They probably said things like that daily, with that same smile and a puzzled look whenever someone would look at them cross eyed.

People like them were natural born diamonds. It was a bit cliché to say, but that was the only way he could word it to himself.

"You laughed again!"

It shouldn't be an accomplishment to make someone laugh.

He shouldn't want to laugh more because that person pointed it out.

It meant no harm, he could do it.

But to reach out and grasp the diamond, to take that person's hand... he'd be burnt the second he tried.

"Dragons aren't easy to burn, Kiriha-kun."

Nene would tell him this, curled in an armchair with a book in her lap, and he would envy her because she could probably reach out and be engulfed in that light and still be able to see.

He was afraid to be burnt when it already hurt his eyes just to look.

Unfortunately, he was a man of incredible pride, and greed as well. He would never be satisfied with just looking, So he'd reach out and hope the fire would not burn.