A/N: Written for the digimon_100 challenge for the pairing Kouichi/Miyako and prompt #036 – moon.

A Bench at Midnight

The night was growing old, but age did not seem to affect all as there were still many, teenagers and adults alike, loitering about the streets of Tokyo. A couple hidden under the shade of the trees. A policeman chasing a child who looked no older than ten. Two men discussing something quite avidly, and yet quietly enough to not be overhead. Three boys, at least fifteen years of age, kicking a soccer ball around in the lamplight. A few people of varying ages sitting on the benches.

Miyako wrapped her coat more firmly around her and yawned, wishing her restlessness could have accomplished something more than a midnight walk. She couldn't do anything in her room though; she would wake Poromon. She couldn't cook or watch a movie, as that would have the rest of the house in an uproar.

Of course, if her parents found out she'd left the house at this time of night, they'd hit the roof anyway, despite her being fifteen and more than old enough to be able to look after herself. It was times like that were older siblings came in handy at least.

But now she had wandered a few blocks, and was no more sleepy than she had been before, despite the yawns that escaped her. But she was tired of walking; apparently, it wasn't a physical restlessness she was experiencing, and in any case she found it quite boring to walk alone. It was a shame that Poromon had already fallen asleep, otherwise they could have enjoyed their little walk together.

And she was not stupid enough to go into the Digital World without her partner. Despite the defeat of BelialVamdemon three years back, the Digital World would never be truly safe for a human.

That only left one option: to sit on one of the benches and perhaps strike up a conversation. Sadly, it didn't appear that anyone was her age, though there was a girl and a boy noticeably younger.

Fortunately, the boy looked up from whatever he had been writing in the lamplight, and she took the silent invitation and sat next to him.

'How can you write in this light?' she asked curiously, trying to squint at the paper. For some unfathomable reason, the boy was writing with a lead pencil, making it even more difficult to read in poor lighting.

The boy shrugged a little, though the movement seemed somewhat restrained and Miyako had to wonder if she had been a little too forthcoming. 'I don't really need to see what I'm writing,' he explained. 'I sort of just write what comes to my mind.'

'You don't take your pen and paper to bed with you?' One of her Japanese teachers mentioned that once.

'Well…no. I'm always awake at this hour anyway.' He put the exercise book and pen away. 'I don't think I've seen you here before.'

'Maybe not,' Miyako agreed. The boy didn't look familiar either. 'I was just feeling restless and thought a walk could shake it out. I'm Inoue Miyako.'

'Kimura Kouichi,' the other introduced, before lapsing into silence.

'So…what were you writing about?' Miyako ventured.

The boy, Kouichi, smiled slightly. 'You remind me of a friend,' he said in some amusement, before flushing a little as he registered the question. 'Oh, just…well…I was thinking about the moon.'

Miyako looked up, seeing nothing but black sky. 'What moon?' she asked.

'Well…'

'Actually, don't bother explaining.' At the surprised look she received, she added: 'I can mix music and electronics but I'm apparently hopeless with words.'

Kouichi nodded, although he commented: 'I doubt that.'

'Huh?'

'Music is a language too,' the boy pointed out. 'And conversation. And the world as a whole; in a way everything around us is built up of words, words we humans use to describe them.'

'I think I see your point.' Miyako looked around. 'A friend of mine would say the world is about pictures.'

'What are pictures to a blind man?' the other asked. 'And on that note, what are words to a deaf one?'

Miyako stared. 'I'm afraid I don't follow.'

The other laughed lightly. 'Neither do I actually. Though it's worth thinking about.' He pulled his exercise book out and quickly wrote – presumably – the questions he had just asked. 'Back to the original topic though, can you see an outline of the moon?'

Miyako looked, and shook her head. 'All I see is black.'

'Maybe it's because I come here every night,' Kouichi said quietly. 'But I'm so used to seeing the moon there I see it even when I know it's not out.'

'I guess the moon must be very important to you then,' Miyako said thoughtfully. 'Reminds me of how Takeru and Hikari were saying, when they left their Digimon behind the first time.'

'So you're one of the original Chosen?' the boy asked, looking at her.

'The second group,' Miyako corrected. 'Takeru and Hikari were part of the original group though.' She looked next to the boy, finding only a knapsack. 'Your partner's at home?'

'My partner's in the Digital World,' Kouichi replied, gazing up at the non-existent moon. 'I guess so anyway; I don't really know.'

'Well…you'll be able to go and look soon enough,' Miyako said after a brief pause. 'Koushirou's working something out. He's another one of the original Chosen. And he's been talking with Gennei too.' She paused. 'Do you know Gennei?' Most children did; he had after all shown himself in the final battle with BelialVamdemon.

Kouichi however was shaking his head. 'I think our Digital World is different from yours,' he said. 'I do remember seeing the battle in the sky, but it's not recorded in the Great Library and it should have been…'

'Not so different,' Miyako countered. 'It's still a place were dreams come true, right?' She smiled, remembering all the things she had gained from that world.

Kouichi too smiled. 'Yeah,' he agreed. 'You're right; it is that sort of place.'

Miyako stifled another yawn, this time feeling a wave of tiredness consume her. 'I guess it's finally time for bed,' she said with a little laugh. 'Next time I can't get to sleep, I'll know where to come.'

And as she left, she could have sworn she saw a slight glimmer of the moon above her, illuminating her path home.