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Iori sipped at his soda, rubbing his toes together under the table. He didn’t like the socks everyone had to wear here, weird and thick and bright orange. They were too big, and the non-skid bumps on the bottom were just sticky enough that they wanted to pull the socks off entirely while he was walking.
Iori wondered if the staff would let him take them off and put his own socks back on if he told them he had no intention of going on the trampolines.
The ghost of a headache sat just behind his eyes. It wasn’t quite pain yet. If Iori could ignore the feeling, he was sure it would go away, but he didn’t expect that would happen. It was too loud in here. Sound echoed through the building in a way that made him almost anxious. Music pounded from every corner of the room, and with each rhythmic whoomp of the trampolines came blasts of weird-smelling air from below.
There were only a dozen of them in here and it was still this loud. Iori couldn’t even imagine how overwhelming it would be in here if Mimi’s family hadn’t rented the place out for her birthday.
Iori dragged his finger through the condensation that had puddled beneath his drink cup. Everyone else was having fun, so why couldn’t he?
There was something uncomfortable nestled around his heart, and now that Iori was paying attention to it, he realized it had been there for a while. It felt like…
There was no reason for Iori to be feeling so out of place when everyone was together like this. It wasn’t as if he were the only one sitting out of the mayhem. Jou was beside him at the table, sweating nearly as much as his untouched drink. His eyes darted between their friends, worrying over who was going to dislocate a knee or sprain an ankle first.
Or how long it would take Daisuke to get a concussion the way he was flinging himself into the foam pit.
Iori took another long sip and watched Takeru join Daisuke and Taichi in some sort of competition, though he had no idea what it was they were trying to accomplish. Unless the goal was screaming chaos, in which they were all succeeding with flying colors. Iori winced and plugged his ears until Taichi changed his chosen activity to collecting foam blocks from the pit and trying to peg Koushiro with them.
Taichi’s missed shots bounced disastrously close to his laptop. Unfortunately for Iori, Koushiro had hunkered down at the table next to him with Sora and Yamato.
“My tea!” Koushiro yelped, grabbing for his drink before it spilled. “Taichi, be careful!”
“Stop being boring and come here!”
Another foam block bounced off a chair and Iori ducked.
Koushiro hunched over his laptop, guarding it. “If one of you jumps next to him as he’s coming down, he’ll do the opposite of a double bounce and eat shit.”
Yamato and Sora were gone.
Taichi booked it down the tumble track, his laughs caterwauling off the high ceilings.
“No, no, no, that’s how you hyper-extend your knee- Oh god, there he goes,” Jou moaned.
Taichi went down and played dead. Yamato nudged him with his foot, smirking. Everyone besides Iori and Jou cheered. Takeru hucked a pit block at Yamato and got chased back to the pit.
Iori’s chest throbbed. He rubbed at his sternum, frowning.
Sora jumped over to join Hikari and Miyako, the girls falling over themselves at Miyako’s attempts to imitate Mimi’s graceful bounces. She looked like a giraffe on roller skates. Iori briefly wondered if Miyako had ever participated in a physical activity outside of gym class.
Running for their lives in the digital world didn’t count.
Hikari caught his eye. She waved for him to join them and he shook his head, mouthing a thank you. Her smile faltered, but she let him be.
Why did that make Iori sadder than before? He didn’t understand.
“Do you want some?” Jou’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. He pushed over a basket of fries from the snack bar. “You okay?”
Iori gave him a weak grin, shrugging. “I have a headache.”
“The music is much too loud. I should have brought earplugs. Do you need anything? I can grab you a water.”
“It’s not so bad. Thank you, Jou.”
Jou patted his arm and Iori took a deep breath. Maybe if he tried a little harder to engage with someone, he’d get out of this funk and have a better time.
“Is it safe for Mimi to be jumping that high?” he asked.
Jou groaned. “She’s on the cheerleading team this year. She’s a backup flier.” They watched her crest her jump and strike a dramatic pose, winking at them. “I mean, she does seem to know what she’s doing...”
A cheer came from behind them and Iori craned his neck. The rest of the boys had decided to see who could ricochet off the angled trampoline wall the farthest, and Iori was just in time to watch Daisuke careen backwards and roll over himself, cackling wildly.
Jou was half to his feet. “One of them is going to break their neck-”
Ken suddenly blew past the group and leaped, bouncing off the wall and flipping neatly before landing twice as far back as anyone else.
There was three seconds of ringing silence and then an explosion of applause and cheering.
Daisuke grabbed Ken around the waist and swung him around. “Did everyone see that?! Ken is amazing! Champ-e-on! Champ-e-on! I didn’t even see you come in! Why are you late?”
His cheeks were blazing red, but Ken didn’t fight Daisuke’s death-grip on him. “Sorry,” he laughed.
“I’m just glad you’re here!”
Taichi had his arm propped on Yamato’s shoulder, snickering at Daisuke’s antics.
Hikari and Miyako hopped over to say hello, their hands clasped.
Whatever expression had been on Iori’s face slowly slid into nothingness. His stomach went cold, yet at the same time, something hot and painful wedged itself under his ribs.
Oh.
Iori turned away and blinked rapidly, alarmed at the budding tears. He squeezed the edge of the table.
The other Jogress partners were… like that.
Sometimes it seemed like Daisuke and Ken were two parts of one whole. From the number of stories they had, it sounded like Daisuke spent half his weekends in Tamachi. And while Hikari and Miyako weren’t quite that level of inseparable, when they were together they were always in each other’s space. Holding hands, laying their heads on the other’s shoulder, whispering and giggling, and happy to be together.
Sometimes they’d say things that made Iori feel like he was missing something entirely.
So much had happened since he and Takeru succeeded in their evolution that Iori couldn’t pinpoint when they’d started backsliding. They had been so close those first few days, but then-
Iori’s heart clenched at the remembered joy. He’d never experienced anything like it. It had been completely overwhelming. Surreal. It was a sun-bright euphoria that made him want to jump and shout and dance, and hug Takeru when he rarely felt like hugging anyone. He wanted to spin in circles until he was dizzy and tumbling over himself. He didn’t care if he fell, so long as he fell with Takeru.
He missed it. He missed it so suddenly, so acutely, and with such desperation that he almost felt sick.
Iori pushed his soda away and got up, ignoring Jou’s curious gaze. Takeru’s voice dug into his ears, so close by and somehow a million miles away. It cut off and Iori didn’t know if that was better or worse.
Did Takeru feel this way? Was he not aching?
Iori padded his way to the far wall, little sticky bumps under his feet in too-big socks. He kind of wanted to go home. Crying at a birthday party was embarrassing.
He climbed up onto a raised mat overlooking the pit and hoped no one was looking at him. Actually, that wasn’t true. He wanted Takeru to notice. He wanted Takeru to be the one to come here and cheer him up.
Iori wrapped his arms around his knees and wondered if he was being selfish. Takeru had a lot of friends. He’d been part of Taichi’s team long before he ever knew Iori existed. Hikari was his best friend, and he was getting closer to Ken and Daisuke lately, and his brother was here. Takeru should spend time with Yamato. Iori knew they didn’t get as much time as Takeru wanted.
Iori always struggled to let loose and have fun in places like this. Maybe he was being a little dramatic.
His insides snarled at the dismissal.
Damnit, he didn’t care if he was being selfish. He wanted Takeru-
“Iori.”
Iori jerked, eyes wide and latching onto the person making his way over. Takeru hopped to the bottom of his mat and looked up, his hair fluffed and breath coming fast. Like he’d run over here. Iori stared.
“Hey, woah…. What happened?” Takeru asked, concern bleeding from him.
Iori didn’t know what to say. His heart fluttered like a caged butterfly and he tucked his arms around his middle like he could pin it down and make it stop. What was happening?
Takeru looked back to the party and to the distance Iori had put himself from it. His frown eased a little.
“I don’t blame you for needing some space.”
Iori wiped his cheek. He was too stunned to be self-conscious.
“Can I come up?”
Iori nodded. What kind of magic was this?
Takeru climbed up and put himself directly between Iori and the rest of the team, hiding Iori from potential prying eyes.
“You don’t have to hang out with me,” Iori said out of obligation. His heart screamed at the betrayal.
Takeru chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, I could use some chill time too. Now that Ken’s here, Daisuke ditched me. This is nice.”
It was exactly what Iori needed to hear. The tension drained out of him immediately, and the butterflies beneath his ribs settled. Part of him was still a little overwhelmed, but now for a completely different reason.
Takeru kicked his legs and looked at peace. He’d never been one to try to fill silences with his own voice and Iori appreciated the space. He wouldn’t push Iori to talk. If there was one thing Takeru had been good at from day one, it was listening to him.
He bit his lip. “I’m not very good at having fun.”
Takeru hummed. He thought that over. “I think you’re fun,” he said. “Your fun is just different. That’s okay. Koushiro’s having fun even if it doesn’t look like it.”
“I don’t want my fun to be different,” Iori admitted. He curled in on himself. “I want to do all that. I just don’t… It’s not that I don’t know how. Sometimes it feels like I can’t. I get stuck.”
“Oh. You want to go jump?”
“Yes? No.”
Takeru waited.
“I don’t want everyone staring at me.”
“But you want to play?” Takeru clarified, shifting closer.
“I do. But-”
“Well, that’s easy then.” He stood and tugged Iori to his feet. Takeru backed to the edge of the mat and his eyes glinted with mischief.
“Wait, no- What are you doing? Hey!”
Takeru tipped back into the air.
Iori let out a yelp and went flailing along, six feet down into the pit. He landed on his back, his heart racing. He’d been a little scared of the pit. He couldn’t move well and couldn’t reach the bottom, and he’d gone under when he was really little and had to get fished out by a bigger kid.
Takeru was a bigger kid. He held tight to Iori’s hand and pulled him to the edge, boosting him up and out before awkwardly clambering out himself.
Takeru flashed him a smile.
“Fun?”
Iori wasn’t sure he categorized that as fun, but the jolt of falling had only been for a second, and Takeru was grinning at him like a sunbeam. Iori had wanted this so badly.
“Can we do it again?” Iori asked hesitantly.
Takeru laughed.
They were back at the top, Iori squeezing Takeru’s hand with everything he had. It looked so much higher than he knew it was.
“Ready?”
“Uh… sure.”
“Wahoo!”
Takeru canonballed in, and Iori squeaked at the rush of smelly pit air when he ended up sprawled upside down.
“Come on,” Takeru said, towing him through the foam.
He didn’t let go of Iori’s hand the whole time. Takeru darted to a trampoline in the corner, taking a big leap and bouncing them both on. Iori was thrown off-balance. He tripped and caught himself awkwardly, very nearly faceplanting. He bumped into Takeru more often than not. When their feet tangled, Takeru was forced to let go of him.
They both went down with a pair of startled cries. Iori ended up on top of Takeru and they were all elbows and knees. Iori didn’t know how to get up.
All those years of kendo and he was less graceful than Miyako.
The thought was so sudden and so ridiculous that it surprised a laugh out of him. Takeru wriggled out from under him, nothing short of delighted. He was laughing too, and suddenly neither of them seemed to be able to stop.
The tightly coiled something next to Iori’s heart released, blazing like a heatwave, and Iori was overtaken with a whirl of happiness. It was unadulterated joy.
Takeru was up and jumping again before Iori could get his feet back under him. He could only shield his face and endure the bumpy ride. Laughter bubbled out of him, bright and loud and coming from deep in his belly. He didn’t recognize the sound.
Iori rolled into Takeru’s legs and unintentionally knocked him down. Takeru wasn’t bothered, pillowing his head on Iori’s stomach and seeking him out. His eyes were crinkled at the corner in a way Iori hadn’t seen in a long time, and now that Iori was really looking at him…
He wondered if Takeru hadn’t been missing him too.
“Bye, Miyako! Bye, Hikari! Bye, Taichi!” Takeru hefted Iori higher on his back and gave them a wave with just his fingers, his arms thoroughly trapped beneath Iori’s knees.
“See you!” Iori added with a much larger wave of his own.
Iori’s face hurt from smiling too hard and every inch of him was pulsing with funfunfunhappy. He tucked himself closer to Takeru despite the heat of the afternoon. It didn’t matter. They had both been sweaty messes before they left the party.
Takeru wobbled and righted himself, still giggling. Iori didn’t bother offering to walk on his own. Not after three times of being told he was getting a piggy-back whether he liked it or not.
(He liked it.)
They made their way down the sidewalk, their apartment almost in view. Iori wished Takeru would walk slower. He was in no rush to get home.
He linked his arms around Takeru’s neck and let his cheek settle on Takeru’s shoulder. “Thanks for coming to sit with me.”
“Well, you asked me to.”
Iori blinked slowly at the side of Takeru’s face. “I didn’t.”
“Right,” Takeru said with a strange little laugh. He squeezed Iori’s legs. “I guess not.”
Iori was too focused on his own thoughts to catch onto the odd response. He wanted to tell Takeru the truth. “I should have just asked you to play with me. I wanted to.” He hid his face in Takeru’s shirt so he couldn’t see his friend’s reaction.
Takeru went quiet long enough that Iori peeked an eye open.
“Me too,” Takeru said softly.
The apartment was just ahead, and Iori sighed when they entered the lobby. His heart hummed a tired, contented note. Takeru didn’t put him down in the elevator, and the shift in gravity made Iori’s insides swoop like he was on a rollercoaster. When the elevator hiccuped again at the top, he smothered a silly noise in Takeru’s neck.
Takeru snorted and almost dropped him. And then they were laughing again.
“Just tell me your door code. I can get it,” Takeru said, wiggling a single finger at the keypad to Iori’s apartment.
Iori very nearly told him, but he hadn’t asked his mom if that was okay, so he leaned over Takeru’s shoulder and knocked instead.
“That works too.”
Mom answered the door, utterly bemused when she saw who it was.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Hida,” Takeru said, finally letting Iori slide down. “Special delivery.”
“I see,” Mom said. “Good afternoon, Takeru. You two certainly look like you had a good time.”
Iori nodded. “We did.”
“I had a lot of fun with Iori.”
Iori internally glowed at the statement, and his mom’s gaze grew awfully tender. Iori looked anywhere that wasn’t her.
“Well, thank you for bringing him home. If you don’t have plans for dinner, we’d be happy to have you join us.”
Iori’s mouth dropped open. His mom had rarely even invited Miyako to stay for a meal. Her exposure to Takeru had been far less.
“Thank you very much, but I have to make something for my mom tonight. She’s working late,” Takeru said with a bow.
What on earth was going on today? Iori could count on one hand the number of times Takeru had offered up information about home unprompted.
“Another time, then. We’d love to have you around more.”
“I’d like that.” Takeru gave Iori a grin and a wave. “See you tomorrow. Have a good night, Mrs. Hida.”
“Goodnight.” Mom closed the door. She shook her head, an amused smile stretching across her face. “Goodness, Iori. Hurry and take a bath before we sit to eat, alright? You’re filthy.”
“I will,” Iori said in a daze.
He passed Grandfather in the hall and received a proud grin. Grandfather clapped Iori on the back. “Good to see you spending time with the Takaishi boy again. He’s good for you.”
Iori filled the tub and sat in the water for a long time, thinking. He thought through dinner and through getting ready for bed. He stared in the mirror as he brushed his teeth and thought so long that his mom came knocking and told him to go to bed. Iori lay in bed, but sleep did not come.
He should talk to Takeru.
He needed to talk to Takeru.
Iori pulled the blankets over his head and did not sleep.
There was a small sliver of time between Miyako getting home from computer club and her parents closing up the shop for dinner. Iori cleaned up as quickly as he could from kendo practice and darted down the stairs. He had maybe twenty minutes for this.
He knocked, his insides snarling into a knot. Perhaps he was not making a good choice.
The door was answered too quickly for him to change his mind. “Hey, Iori. I didn’t know you were coming by. You need Miyako?” Momoe greeted him.
“Yes. Sorry to intrude. Is she busy?”
“I mean, she’s doing homework, but she’s moaning and groaning in there like she’s dying, so maybe she needs a break.” Momoe stepped aside to let him in and thumbed toward Miyako’s closed door.
“Thank you.”
Iori tapped his knuckles to the doorframe and received a noise in reply that may have been a word. Iori wasn’t quite sure. He opened the door and poked his head inside.
“Whaaaaat- Oh, its you.” Miyako perked up. She was on her stomach on her bed, paper and notebooks scattered around her. There was an imprint of calculator keys on her forehead. “What’s up?”
Iori procrastinated by taking much too much time to shut the door behind him and taking up the chair at Miyako’s unused desk. His heart was inching toward his throat. Iori swallowed it down, staring at his knees. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous.
Miyako watched and waited, and when Iori took too long to answer, she hummed and went back to her schoolwork. She let him collect his thoughts. Which he’d been under the impression he had done enough of last night, but now that he was here, they were getting all scrambled again.
The clock on the wall reminded him he didn’t have all the time in the world.
“May I ask you a question?”
“Please,” Miyako said, dropping her pencil. “Anything to distract me from this.”
Iori clenched his hands over his knees. “You and Hikari are close.”
“Yeah?”
“Has there ever been a time where you could… read her mind? Or she could read yours? Is that a thing Jogress partners can do?”
Behind her glasses, Miyako’s eyebrows raised in surprise and then furrowed. “Huh. Um, I mean, not really. Not actual words like you and me are talking now, if that’s what you mean.”
Iori shrugged.
“Well, it sounds like you’re talking about more than just the bleed-over thing, right?” Miyako asked, tipping her head.
Iori’s train of thought unraveled. “The what?”
“Uhhhh...” Miyako looked supremely uncomfortable. She sat up stiffly, eyes wide and suddenly lined with guilt.
“What are you talking about?” Wariness coiled in Iori’s gut.
Miyako bit her lip. She gestured around helplessly, to Iori and to the ceiling and around at nothing, a high-pitched whine leaking from her. “Um? Did nobody explain that to you? ‘Cause I know I didn’t, but uh. Well, crap.”
“I think I would remember someone explaining anything about bleeding.”
“No, that’s not it.” Miyako blew out a long breath. “Do you- Okay. You have you, right? Your feelings?” She gazed at Iori expectantly.
“My feelings about what, Miyako?”
“No, no, just hear me out. You have your own emotions, yeah?”
“Yes?”
“Right. Those are yours. You feel them the strongest. But then don’t you also feel some of what Takeru is feeling?”
Iori frowned. He tried valiantly to not acknowledge the dread pooling in his stomach. It didn’t work. “No.”
“You… don’t?” Miyako confirmed quietly. “That’s… Iori, are you sure?”
“Maybe I just don’t understand what you mean.” Iori hoped some clarity would help him feel less like he was sinking. Yesterday’s joy felt far away.
“Yeah, maybe. This isn’t your fault. Daisuke and Ken had to get it explained to them too, and I was lucky that Ken told me. Our group isn’t the best at things like this. Oh man, I can’t believe nobody made sure you knew. It’s been so long.” Miyako adjusted her glasses and composed herself. “When you and Takeru evolved together for the first time, you were happy?”
Iori nodded.
“Yeah, and it probably felt like more than just your happiness, because that’s the whole thing with Jogress evolution, right? You can feel your partner’s heart with yours. You’re linked.”
“Yes,” Iori conceded. “That happened, but-”
She scooted closer on the bed. “It’s supposed to be permanent.”
“Permanent.” Iori’s voice was wooden.
“I mean its not literally every second of the day. If Hikari goes on a trip and she’s physically really far away, it fades. Or at least it gets really hard to reach her. And there are some times where she gets upset and blocks me out. Ken does it too, or at least Daisuke said he used to. But Jogress partners usually feel each other’s emotions… most of the time.”
Iori stared at the wall. His fists had come undone, hands sitting limply in his lap. “Oh,” he whispered.
“Maybe Takeru isn’t doing it on purpose,” Miyako said.
“Blocking me out, you mean.”
She looked like she didn’t want to say yes. “Have you felt anything that doesn’t make sense? Like an emotion that comes on suddenly that’s not related to what you’re doing at all?”
Iori wasn’t sure he’d been paying close enough attention to be able to identify the difference. “I don’t know.”
Miyako sighed. “You should talk to Takeru.”
“I’m not good at talking to Takeru,” Iori said to his lap.
“You guys are on the same page enough to evolve together. You can’t be that bad at it. It took me a while to be able to get Hikari to open up, and I do mean at all. She and Takeru are just… private.”
“Our evolution only happened after I-” Iori cut himself off, shame coloring his cheeks.
Miyako squinted. “After you what?”
Iori let the words marinate. It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time, but he sometimes wondered if Takeru had seen it as going behind his back. And it wasn’t like Iori had told him about it after. Had Yamato let him know? Did Takeru have a clue?
“We were having a hard time,” Iori started slowly. “I couldn’t be partners with Takeru if I didn’t understand why he was acting so…”
“Crazy cranky?”
“Unpredictable.”
“Sure. So anyway, you… did what?”
Iori pulled his knees up and hugged them. “It was bothering me, so I- I asked Yamato about it.”
Miyako’s face went blank. She blinked and it took a whole two seconds. “You asked Yamato. Why Takeru was being weird.”
Iori curled into his knees. “Yes.”
“You think Yamato is easier to talk to than Takeru.”
Iori could only jerk his shoulders in an unhappy shrug.
“Yeesh. I mean, that’s…” Miyako sat back and suddenly frowned. “Damn, maybe you’re right.”
The room grew quiet. It was a slow, creeping realization that maybe Iori was just as bad as Takeru at the whole “being honest and open” part of their relationship. He hadn’t given Takeru a chance to sit down during a calm moment and explain himself. Of course Takeru hadn’t wanted to talk about things when he was already worked up. Nobody did.
Iori uncurled. “Miyako? How do I feel if he’s there? How do you feel Hikari, if you’re okay telling me?”
Miyako’s expression cleared. She touched her chest, thinking. “I do think its different for everyone. Sometimes Ken says something I don’t get at all. But with Hikari, it's like a tickle. Right here.” She tapped just under her collarbone. “It's a flutter. It’s light. She gets nervous a lot, you know. So sometimes when she has to do a big presentation for school I get almost itchy.” Miyako laughed to herself.
“Itchy, huh?”
“Yeah. That’s just me. Her emotions come and go, but they feel more like they’re coming from here than coming from the rest of me? Does that make sense? She said I feel fizzy in a good way, but honestly, I have no idea what she means by that.”
Iori was a little lost. He dusted his fingers over his shirt and tried to concentrate. He was frustrated and confused. There was guilt. Some hurt. Didn’t that all come from him? He couldn’t detect any part of him that felt like it was tickling or fizzing or buzzing or whatever.
Wait.
That wasn’t true.
Iori rubbed his whole hand over his heart, his eyes wide.
“Find him?” Miyako asked with a gentle smile.
Her words were barely audible past the pounding in his chest. There was something there, and Iori wasn’t sure how long it had been hiding. Something so small he wasn’t surprised he’d overlooked it. A glow, just to the left of his heart. It was the same kind of warmth that came from sitting in a sunbeam, yet impossibly lit from the inside.
It felt like the light of Patamon’s evolution.
“Oh…”
“See, you’re connected,” Miyako said. “I don’t know if it's actually possible to sever a Jogress bond. But even if you could, I think it's pretty clear Takeru doesn’t want to.”
Iori looked up, silently begging her to continue.
“Don’t look so surprised. You two were having a ball yesterday.”
“I wanted him…”
“Yeah, and he practically ran me over to get to you, by the way. So he may be blocking you from feeling his feelings, but he sure isn’t blocking yours from getting to him.”
Iori didn’t know what to make of that. It was a little unnerving, knowing that Takeru had been getting insight into how he felt for the past year and had never let on about it. He wasn’t sure if he was angry, but it didn’t feel good.
Iori jumped out of his skin when someone knocked on the door.
“Mom says five minutes till dinner,” Mantarou called through the wood.
“Okay!” Miyako rubbed her hands over her face. She fixed her glasses and winced. “Sorry. But for what it's worth, I do think you should just ask him what’s up. He’s not going to bite you.”
“That’s not really what I’m worried about.” Iori got up but couldn’t convince his feet to move toward the door. “It’s just- I’m not always good with being sensitive.”
“Maybe Takeru doesn’t need sensitive,” Miyako countered. “Maybe that’s why you’re his partner and not like, Hikari or Ken.”
“Ken might be better at this than me…” Iori said under his breath.
Miyako paused in picking up her school things, the look on her face indicating she may not have heard him correctly. He didn’t repeat himself.
“Thank you, Miyako.”
“I know it's hard to get one on one time during the week, but I don’t think you should let this go much longer,” she said in place of a goodbye.
Iori nodded. “See you tomorrow.”
He climbed the stairs back to his floor, mentally flipping through the calendar. Between kendo, basketball practice, and the group project Iori knew the older kids were working on, this week was a wash. Maybe Sunday?
Ah. No, Sunday was definitely not going to work.
Iori clenched his hands and tried to control his impatience, overly aware that Takeru was on the receiving end of every shift of his mood. Two weeks of this was going to be awful, but he had little choice. He’d endure.
It would be worth it.
It had to be.