Title: For You, Anything
Pairing: one-sided Piemon x Takeru
Chapters: 1-1||Words: 500
Genre: Romance, Angst||Rated: PG
Challenge: Diversity Writing: Digimon soulmates: A78, random word; Advent 2014, day #14, write about someone comforting another person; Pairing Diversity Boot Camp, #45, jealous
Summary: Piemon just doesn't understand. What has Takeru so broken up? Just because Patamon is an egg again? How can Takeru be so upset when he is Piemon's soulmate and they've finally found one another?

Piemon hummed cheerfully as he ran his fingers through his soulmate's sunlight-shaded hair. Takeru sat numbly on his lap, formerly sky-blue eyes shaded and dim, the marks of tears still on his cheeks.

He should really wash his face, Piemon thought, bringing his other hand up to cup the young man's chin and turn his face toward him, pulling it closer to rest his lips on top of Takeru's.

"Why so sad?" It was astonishing, really, that the one true love of his life, the one whose soul was crafted to match his own, was this same one who'd fought him as hard as a child.

It was Takeru he had to thank for his revival as well. So long as Takeru himself lived, then Piemon could not truly die. The tie that bound their souls together made that so. Takeru had been quite surprised when he returned.

Takeru did not answer his question. That wasn't surprising, because since Piemon's Trump Swords cut down his other partner, not even giving him a chance to fight back, Takeru hadn't spoken a single word. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He'd cried out the foolish angel's name in that moment. But other than that one last cry, nothing.

Piemon knew that Takeru was as much his soulmate as he was the blond's. The marks on their wrists declared it so. The countdown had spun to zero together, and then an intertwined Crest of Hope, pierced by small renditions of the Trump Swords, appeared on them both. What further proof did anyone need that they were made for each other?

Yet here Takeru sat, mute and motionless, taking food only when Piemon insisted it, laying sleepless next to him for hours at a time. At least he didn't try to run away. That would've been bothersome.

Piemon brushed his fingers through Takeru's hair again, hoping for some reaction and gaining none. His love simply sat there, as if little more than a somewhat lifelike doll.

He wished to celebrate their joyous union, but what pleasure could either of them gain from it when one of them was little more than an empty husk? Would he have to find a way to revive that pesky angel before he would have his love?

For Takeru he would do it.

"Do you want the angel back so badly?" He hadn't allowed Takeru to visit the Village of Beginnings since his return. He knew the first time the angel died, he'd become an egg directly into his partner's arms. Perhaps that was why Takeru now reacted as he did. He didn't know if Patamon would still be alive or not. "We can visit the village tomorrow."

Was that a flicker of interest in those pretty eyes? Yes, he thought it was. He smiled. "But only if you are very good tonight. I want you to eat all of your dinner." They could save other activities for when Takeru was more fully recovered. Piemon quite looked forward to it.

The End

Note: The chosen word was astonishing. Also, Piemon is absolutely not a comforting person. But the idea appeared and I had to write it.
Notes: ETA, April 2020: This is now set in a breeds-universe as well as soulmates.