a/n: just a smattering of scenes. Hope everyone's staying safe.

"Otsukare-sama!"

"Good work today. See you."

Papers shuffled and file cabinets clicked shut as the students wrapped up their work for the day. Hikari sat back in her chair and stretched, trying to get some feeling back into her shoulders. It had been a long afternoon in the layout room sorting through photos with the other editors.

"Yagami."

She looked up at the smooth voice. "Oh, Aren-kun. Otsukare."

He gazed down at her. She seemed downright tiny surrounded by stacks of clippings and photos. "You heading out now?"

"Mm…" she sighed. "I have practice later for the festival, so I think I might stay and try to get a headstart on my page. What about you?"

"In a bit. Arisa and I have a shoot today."

"On a school night? That's rare."

"It's busy lately," he remarked.

She gave him such a wholehearted look of concern that he felt his heart lurch for a moment. "Have you had time to rest?"

"Don't worry."

"Take care of yourself."

He was touched, though he didn't say so. Usually people only asked about which magazine he was modelling for, or if he had brushed shoulders with any famous people—not that that was a bad thing. It was natural to be curious, but no one ever asked about his well-being. She was one of the few people who did.

He leaned back on the table beside her, crossing slender arms in their perfectly cuffed sleeves. "What's your class doing for the festival?"

She fidgeted with the ends of her hair. "I'd rather not say."

He grinned. "You know I can just ask Takeda or Sano, right?"

"You can ask them, then," she answered sweetly, which made him laugh.

"Hikari-chan, your phone," Miyashita called.

"Oh, right! Thanks, Miya-chan." She rushed to the main room. They had all been told to check their phones diligently for word from Koushirou and be ready to go at a moment's notice. For all they knew about the situation, anything could happen at any time.

"In your bag, I think," Miyashita said, a red ballpoint pen in her mouth. She typed something furiously, then stopped and drew large slashes through sections of the paper in front of her. "This is taking forever…"

"Is it Takaishi?" Aren was a touch disgruntled as Hikari scrolled through her phone.

"Isn't he at practice? I think they're still in the gym," Arisa interjected. She rattled one of the giant cabinet doors to make sure it was properly locked.

Aren watched Hikari's face change as she read the message. The normally soft features seemed to fill with a determined fire for a brief moment.

"What? What is it?" he asked, chasing her expression, which seemed to pass like a wisp of smoke. Something about her was always so elusive. As close as they were, her friends knew there was a part of her life—unmentioned, tucked discreetly away—that they knew nothing about. It pained him knowing that Takeru was likely a part of that. There was a side to her that only Takeru had seen.

(Had Takeru been there to hear his thoughts, he would have disagreed. That fiery determination to protect and stand up for others was always a part of her, it was just well-tempered and used sparingly.)

She picked up her school bag and smiled brightly at the three of them. "I just have to go see my brother. See you all tomorrow! And good luck on your shoot, you two."

She headed straight for the gym. It was altogether possible that Takeru was in the middle of practice and unable to check his phone. He wouldn't see the group message that Koushirou had sent out until after he finished and got changed, and by then, it would probably be too late. Besides, it was unthinkable heading there without him.

She rounded the corner, went down the stairs, and in her hurry almost ran straight into said blonde-haired boy at the front door.

"Woah, Hikari-chan!" He caught her by the shoulders.

"Takeru-kun!"

"I was just on my way to get you." He let his hands drop as his phone went off with a buzz. "Looks like Mimi-san and Mochizuki-san are already there. They were nearby."

She leaned over his shoulder and read with him. "Shiokaze Park... it's going to take a while if we walk. At least another 30 minutes."

"You're right. Did you come to school by bike today?"

"Yes, but…" She paused as he grinned, then suddenly made for the bike yard. She had no choice but to follow. "Takeru-kun, you're not… thinking what I think you're thinking, are you?"

"We have no choice," he said, shrugging. He knew which bike was hers without having to ask, and he reached down to adjust the seat. "Key?"

She couldn't help but smile, tossing the key to him. "Okay. Let's be careful."

A minute later, they were off, her arms tightly wrapped around his waist as he pedaled. They didn't have time to be worried about the few straggling students who gaped at them as they passed on their way out. Luckily, none of the sports clubs were using the school yard, and they would just have to hope no policemen would be around to stop them.

"You okay?" He was deliberately taking a side road in the interest of not being seen.

"Mhm!" She answered, clinging tightly.

"Almost there." Any other time and the prolonged close contact would have made him smile, but he was in action mode, his eyes focused on the road ahead of them. Fight and protect. These came first.

As they swung around to the grassy park, they could see that the entrance was cordoned off and surrounded by a small crowd.

"Koushirou-san! Sora-san!"

"Hikari-san, Takeru-kun!"

"Did you two come straight from school?" Sora asked as the two youngest chosen joined them.

They nodded.

"What's going on?" Takeru said.

Koushirou gazed worriedly past the huddle of policemen. The park consisted of a wide, grassy area ringed by trees that sloped down towards the bay, and it was impossible to see what was going on beyond the fringe of trees. "Ogremon, and infected. As it stands, it would be unwise to force our way in."

"What about Mimi-san and Meiko-san?" Hikari asked quietly.

"Mimi-san and Mochizuki-san somehow got there before they blocked this area off, and I've asked them to stay where they are without engaging." He seemed troubled, but said no more.

The sound of a motor sputtering to a stop behind them caught their attention.

"Oniichan," Hikari said.

"Niisan," Takeru echoed.

The two elder siblings dismounted Yamato's bike, their faces serious.

"Wait, you two came together?" Sora noticed, and they turned sullenly away from each other like preschoolers who had just remembered a forgotten argument.

Yamato spoke up to fill the silence. "Looks like we're not getting in there from here."

"No, it's completely secure," Takeru agreed. "At least this means there aren't any people around to get caught up in the fight this time."

"I don't know about that," Taichi cut in grimly. He gestured upwards. Several helicopters, most likely camera crews and reporters, circled the area from overhead.

"Either way, we need to get in there." Yamato was pacing back and forth, eyeing the policemen as if trying to see if he could make a run for it.

Koushirou nodded and flipped open his laptop. "Nishijima-sensei and his men should be on their way. With their clearance, we should be able to get in without any issues…"

"Koushirou-kun? What's wrong?" Sora questioned.

""I didn't think she was being serious." He closed his eyes. "Mimi-san's digivice was activated. She's trying to fight."

"So, you're saying that Leomon appeared and pulled Ogremon back into the distortion?" Yamato asked, looking out across the water.

Back at the site of the battle, smoke rose and sirens abounded as rescue efforts were made for the downed helicopter. The large craters and upended mounds of grass that littered the field were indicative of the conflict, but the news crews could do nothing but shake their heads and report that the two hideous monsters had suddenly vanished.

The eight of them had retreated hastily away once the battle ended. From where they now sat in a small pavilion near their usual meet-up place on the opposite side of the island, it was impossible to see any of the commotion. The sea was glass-still and confronted them with an eerie calm.

Mimi nodded slowly. "Yeah. It was right after Togemon…" she trailed off.

For a moment, no one spoke.

"I'm sorry." It was Meiko, her voice weak.

Hikari looked down at her hands. It didn't seem right to hear her apologize. Now was not the time for them to be turning against each other.

Takeru seemed to have picked up on this, as he tried to disperse the tension. "It wasn't you guys. That helicopter got too close."

"It's not Meimei's fault!" Mimi cried suddenly, jumping up. "It was my idea."

There was a light click as a laptop snapped shut, and they all turned. Koushirou had been uncharacteristically silent in the aftermath of the battle, and now he spoke up, his voice frigid. "I thought I told you to stay where you were."

"Koushirou-han…" Tentomon said.

It wouldn't have been Mimi without a push back. "But I'm sick of Palmon and the others being criticized like this. Aren't you all, too?"

Taichi glanced warily at Koushirou. None of them had ever heard him speak like that before. "Yes, but…"

"So you tried to be the savior. Now look at the result of that." Koushirou's words were hard and precise like a surgeon's knife. "This is a very serious and sensitive problem that affects all of us. Including the Digimon."

She glared at him defiantly, as if to tell him to stop stating the obvious, but stopped short at the look in his eyes. Koushirou had never been the expressive type—he was always the calm, impartial one of the group. He preferred going by the facts of a situation and giving others the benefit of the doubt rather than judging them on impulse. But the look in his eyes now was clear, and it stung Mimi to the core in ways that words could not. It was disappointment.

"Mimi-san…" he continued. "You can be very selfish."

Are you done? She wanted to say, but nothing came out. Selfish. She knew that, but it had always been something she was a little proud of—honesty, standing up for herself. But now, it was thrown back at her, packaged in cold, hard disenchantment, and she could feel her eyes water up. Koushirou-kun hates me, she thought. Of all people, Koushirou, who wouldn't have disdain for even the ants that crawl on the ground, had finally seen her for who she was, and was disappointed.

"Mimi," Palmon murmured.

Sora stood. "Koushirou-kun, that was going too far." She tried to put a hand on Mimi's shoulder, but the younger girl pushed her aside.

She was afraid of looking at everyone else and finding the same disappointment. "I'm going home."

"Mimi-chan!"

"Mimi-san!" Meiko stood to follow her as she ran off.

"No, wait," Sora said. "It might be best to leave her alone for a while."

They all watched her go, except Koushirou, who kept his eyes on the ground.

He's angry. Hikari studied him carefully. Something about what Mimi had done must have shaken him, as it was rare to see him this furious.

Of course, Yamato, whose slight lack of delicacy for this kind of situation was apparent, abruptly changed the topic. "What happened to Jou?"

Luckily, this was all it took for the typically rational Koushirou to cool down. "I texted him earlier, but there wasn't any response."

"I couldn't get him on the phone," Sora added.

Now Yamato was the one who seemed irked. "All this is going on, and still, studying is more important?"

Takeru glanced at Hikari, who was gazing worriedly at her brother.

"Lay off." Sure enough, Taichi was less than happy about Yamato's judgment.

"There's no doubt Jou might be very logical and careful about everything, but he also used to know what's important and what we should do. And yet…"

At his brother's words, Takeru recalled his conversation with Taichi at the onsen. What is right? What is it that we should do? Surely that was clearer for some of them than for others. There wasn't much that could be done except wait for the others to come to terms with their choices, but Takeru knew that Yamato's sense of responsibility was wearing his patience thin.

"I said, lay off," Taichi warned. "I'm sure Jou knew he should have come. Even so, he must have been unable to."

This insight from their leader seemed to remind them once more that this was not the time to be pointing fingers at one another.

"I know that," Yamato conceded with a frown.

With little else to talk about and more than enough to mull over individually, they adjourned for the day. Sora promised to check in on Mimi before leaving, while Meiko went walking off towards the nearby mall. Koushirou also excused himself and left quickly, possibly troubled by what had happened earlier.

"Hikari, Takeru, are you going home now?" Taichi asked, swinging himself up on Yamato's motorcycle.

Takeru nodded.

"Actually, I have to go back to school," Hikari said. "What about you, oniichan?"

"I left my bike by the side of the road on the way here, so Yamato's going to take me to pick it up."

"Ah, that's right. You guys came together," Takeru remembered, and Yamato shot him a disgruntled look before flipping his helmet shut.

Hikari smiled. Despite everything, they were close.

"See you at home, oniichan!" She called as they sped off.

That left the two of them again, and it became just another after school evening. The sun was starting its downward descent as they walked up the footpath towards the main street, where Hikari's bike waited.

"Koushirou-san was really mad, huh?" Takeru said suddenly. "I don't think I've ever seen him mad like that before."

"Yeah…" she murmured. "He did seem really angry, for some reason."

"Ahh…" he paused and looked up at the sky. "It's probably that."

"That?" She hopped up on a low row of bricks that lined the footpath and busied herself by trying to stay balanced, arms carefully outstretched.

"He was worried about Mimi-san. What could have happened. I think that's why he freaked out a little."

She peered up at him, eyes wide. "You seem pretty sure about that."

"It's not exactly a foreign feeling," he admitted and caught her hand in his, helping her off as the footpath ended. "Anyway, you're going back to school? Isn't it kind of late?"

She bent down to unlock her bike. "It's not for the publications club. It's for the festival."

"Oh, that's right!" He brightened. "Didn't you say your class was doing a play?"

She nodded.

"Which one? Do you have a part?"

She hesitated for a beat. "Nausicaa."

"The Ghibli movie?"

"Apparently class 2-D has a tradition of doing adaptations of Ghibli movies… last year's class did Spirited Away."

"Right. Your homeroom teacher oversees the drama club, so that makes sense." Seeing that she was looking for a way out, he leaned his elbow casually on her handlebars, stopping her. "And? Why is it that you're trying to leave without answering my last question?"

She blinked sheepishly, caught. "Takeru-kun, I'm going to be late."

He returned a wide grin. "Oh no! Then you'd better hurry and tell me what part you're playing."

"It's really not that big of a deal… "

"Hikari-chan, you could be villager no.5 or a tree in the background—you know everyone's going to come watch regardless," he informed her.

Finally, she caved, rewarding him with a resigned smile. "I knew I wouldn't be able to keep it from you. I'm playing Nausicaa. I didn't want to… but there was a vote, so I couldn't get out of it."

No wonder she had been reluctant to say so. Now it was certain that everyone would come watch—he for one would be front and center. Nothing short of a natural disaster would stop him.

"They made the right choice," he said, recalling the story and its compassionate, self-sacrificial heroine.

Her expression darkened then. "It feels like I'm spending my time on something unnecessary when we could be trying to learn more about what's happening."

"Hmm…" he breathed, letting go of her handlebars. "I wouldn't say it's unnecessary. We're not just the chosen, you know. It doesn't hurt to be a middle school student every once in a while. Actually, it might even be good."

It's as important to look forward to what's in front of us every day as it is to worry about the future. Otherwise, we'd forget what it was we were trying to save."

His eyes met hers and danced. With him, the world was a colorful, hopeful place.

"You're right," she said contentedly. "I'll do my best."

"That's the spirit," he laughed, and gave the back of her bike a little push to get her going. "See you tomorrow."

"I have practice tomorrow too, so you can go home without me," she called.

He raised his hand and watched the breeze caress her hair as she pedaled away. Once she was out of sight, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through the contacts.

"Hello? Koushirou-san? It's Takeru. If you haven't already gone back, want to grab coffee?"

"Sorry for calling you out again."

The cafe was quiet, at the back of a store in the nearby mall. The mall was popular and often filled with students and couples, but the cafe they were in served slightly acidic, absolutely perfect coffee that was black as night, and in vintage cups that matched the old, classic atmosphere and mahogany tables. In other words, the cafe's patrons mainly consisted of older, coffee-loving gentlemen and their newspapers; it wasn't quite as popular with the younger, hip crowd, which suited Takeru just fine.

"No, that's alright." Koushirou looked wearier than usual as he stared into the cup of iced oolong tea in front of him, as if he could disappear into it.

Takeru sipped his coffee. He didn't drink it often out of concern for his height, but when he did, it was black. "Nice laptop case. Is it new?"

Supple brown leather with a sleek handle—it must have been pretty expensive.

Koushirou blushed. "Since it's something I always carry around, I figured it might as well be nice. It's quite a change from that old backpack I've been using for years."

"It's nice. I think it suits you," Takeru said.

"You think so?" Koushirou coughed, then reached for his tea. "You're the first one to say something about it. I guess it's like you to notice these things."

An opening. No use avoiding the point. But he eased into it, keeping the relaxed smile on his face. "I'd say so, but I'll bet you Mimi-san noticed too."

The older boy's shoulders tensed at the name. He set his cup down and the ice shuddered with a clink. "I… I wouldn't know about that."

"You could ask her?" Takeru suggested gently. "What she thinks? Or what she likes?"

How could I after what happened earlier? His face seemed to say. But the younger boy maintained a blissfully unaware expression, as if to say that wasn't important. Was he just going to ignore the issue? He suspected that was why Takeru had called him out to meet in the first place.

"I… I don't think I can talk to her right now," he mumbled.

"Then what about texting her? Or emailing?"

"I suppose…" He gazed down at his hands.

Why had he been so angry? Yes, it had been brash and inconsiderate of her to blatantly ignore his orders. And it had done them and their Digimon more harm than good. Still, any other time and he would have processed this all logically before calmly pointing out what had gone wrong. But that wasn't what had happened. He was used to other people losing it and saying harsh things as he waited patiently for their reasoning to kick in. He never thought that he would be the one to ever do so.

Takeru deliberately kept the tone of his voice light. "I don't think Mimi-san is mad at you."

Koushirou glanced up at him. "Really? After that?"

The younger boy leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands. "Koushirou-san, do you think Mimi-san being selfish is a bad thing?"

He considered it briefly. "Only when it puts her and those around her in danger."

"So, it's the situation that's the issue."

Koushirou nodded. Suddenly, he felt incomprehensibly thirsty and took a big gulp of his drink.

"Then maybe all you need to do is tell her that," Takeru concluded, grinning. "And then you can ask her what she thinks about your new style."

That was remarkably simple. Koushirou blinked, the words and the cold drink seemingly bringing him back to his senses. Now that it was out in the open and put into words, he was able to understand the emotions that had coursed through him earlier. It was familiar—something he had seen in Taichi several years back. In fact, it was something they had all talked about recently.

Taichi, angry and irritable, desperate as they ran from hospital to pharmacy in the abandoned city, looking for medicine they didn't know if they would ever find. It was fear. Worry. For the small, sickly girl who lay waiting for them.

And now, many years later, Koushirou found himself feeling the same way as he pictured Mimi rushing headlong into danger.

"I see." Finally, he smiled, relieved. "Then, I guess you're right. Maybe I should email her and ask."

He regarded the confident boy in front of him with a sense of awe. When had the happy-go-lucky little boy who cried so easily grown up?

"Takeru-kun, you've matured. It seems like you always know what to do in situations like this. I feel like I'm the younger one." He laughed.

This time, it was Takeru's turn to sigh and take a long sip of coffee. "That's not true. There are still times when I feel like a kid who can't do anything."

There was still so much he didn't know. The uncertainty—whether or not he had it in himself to make the right choices when the circumstances called for them. Could he really protect what was important when the time came? And how?

"At the very least, it seems you don't have any issues with girls," Koushirou said.

Takeru laughed at this. Was the bitterness in his mouth from the coffee, or was it something else? "I really wish that were true."

"You mean you do?"

"Well, with only one in particular. She just happens to be the only one who really matters."

"Ah," the older boy replied in recognition. "You're talking about Hikari-san, yes?"

But even before Takeru could answer, he knew it was obvious. Of course it was. Who else had the blonde haired boy in front of him spent most of his life fighting to protect?

"Who else?" Takeru answered somewhat sheepishly, caught. It was always a bit unnerving talking about Hikari. He felt like a bug under a microscope, his lack of confidence and utter helplessness on display.

"I see. Hikari-san certainly is special," Koushirou agreed. He paused, something catching his eye in the distance. "Isn't that Mochizuki-san?"

Takeru turned. She was wandering around, scanning all of the stores and reading the names on the storefronts in a state of panic that was evident even from that distance.

"Hey, it is. You think she's lost?" He stood up. "Mochizuki-san! Over here!"

She regarded them both with a bewildered expression, like she didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified. "Oh!"

She seemed reluctant at first, but at his good-natured beckoning, she joined them in the cafe.

"Hello," she stammered.

"What are you up to? Shopping?" Takeru asked. "Would you like to join us? Koushirou-san and I are just grabbing coffee."

He was blinding with his pressed white school uniform and friendly smile. So effortlessly wholesome.

"Uh… well, there's actually a store I need to go to… errands to run," she said, wondering how a middle school boy could look as perfect as he did. "But thank you."

"Okay," he returned cheerfully. "Do you need help finding it? We can show you there if you're lost. Right, Koushirou-san?"

Iced oolong tea having been drained to the dregs, the computer genius nodded affirmatively.

"Oh! N-no, I… I'll be alright," she said, waving her hands wildly.

"No need to be so distant. It's okay, really," the younger boy insisted, moving things smoothly along at his own pace as usual. "Which store?"

And Meiko somehow found herself walking through the mall with the two boys. She strode silently, unable to relax as they chatted comfortably a few paces in front of her. They were kind. She couldn't find anything to say.

"Here we are!" Takeru announced as they arrived at the right store. "But what did you need to come to a costume store for?"

"Ah… it's for the school festival. Mimi-san had this idea, and…"

"Hmm. I see."

She didn't miss the sly glance he gave Koushirou, who stiffened and flushed pink.

"Anyway, hope you find what you're looking for." He gave her a friendly wave and she rushed into the store, thankful for their help but also thankful to be by herself again.

"Looks like they're doing something with costumes for the festival, Koushirou-san," he said knowingly. "You better make up with Mimi-san soon, or you might miss out."

"R-right."

"Hey! Isn't that Takaishi-kun? Takaishi-kun!"

More company. Odaiba was a small island.

"Oh, Takeda-san and… Fujioka?" Takeru regarded the new arrivals in surprise. "What? Are you two on a date?"

Mami smiled and answered graciously, "While that would be an honor, we're actually just here buying something for the school festival."

If Fujioka was at all bothered by this statement, he didn't show it. "We're doing a play. Hadn't you heard? I thought Yagami-san would have told you by now…" he paused. "Or maybe not, given that she's playing—"

"I heard. She told me." Takeru cut in, somewhat bothered by the direction the conversation was taking. "Nausicaa, right? This is Koushirou-san, by the way. He's an upperclassman of ours. Koushirou-san, this is Takeda Mami-san and Fujioka Yuu, from school."

"I'm Izumi Koushirou. Thank you for always taking care of Takeru-kun and Hikari-san."

"Nice to meet you," Mami said, bowing politely, and Fujioka followed suit.

"Odaiba Middle School… actually, I was there until quite recently," Koushirou mentioned.

"Koushirou-san was a third year when we were first years," Takeru mentioned.

"I remember," Fujioka replied. "You were president of the computer club. You won a national award for a program you wrote, right?"

"Ah! I remember that!" Mami put in excitedly. "I remember Hikari-chan did the article on that in the school paper! I could tell she was really proud."

Koushirou blushed again—he seemed to be doing that a lot lately. "It wasn't anything special. Anyway, you're doing a play for the school festival? I recall there was a second year class that always does a play."

"Yes, our homeroom teacher is Noda-sensei, who's in charge of the drama club," Mami answered. "Hikari-chan's playing the lead, so please come watch if you have time!"

"Hikari-san is?" he raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Looks like we'll have to tell Taichi-san and the others, Takeru-kun."

"Right," Takeru agreed, though he had secretly been hoping no one else would find out so that he could go enjoy it himself in peace and quiet and, most importantly, keep her to himself. Now, older brother would certainly show up, which he supposed was inevitable anyway. Taichi seemed like the typical indifferent older brother, but he probably knew all there was to know about his sister's schedule and activities.

Fujioka smirked, picking up on Takeru's reluctance to share anything relating to the pretty brown-haired girl. "We should get going, or the rest of the class is going to suspect exactly what Takaishi did. It was nice meeting you, Izumi-senpai."

"Of course. No need to create unnecessary drama," Mami said. "See you at school, Takaishi-kun. And it was very nice to meet you, Izumi-senpai."

It was dark when he got home, just beating the rain that had begun to pour down a bit past 9. He and Koushirou had spent some time ambling around the different stores at the mall, pointing out trends and outfit ideas while Koushirou fervently took notes. They parted with the older boy promising to email Mimi before the week was through.

He slung his bag down beside his bed and was about to slump over onto it when his phone started buzzing. Mom? She had already informed him that she would be working right up until the last train and would probably have to stay the night near work.

He picked up sleepily without bothering to check the caller ID. "Hello?"

"Hello? Takeru? It's Taichi."

He sat up immediately. "Taichi-san?"

"Is Hikari with you?"

Takeru felt his blood run cold. "No, she's not. Why? Is something wrong?"

"I just couldn't get a hold of her, and I was worried… it's pouring out there. I know she said she'd be late, but…"

There was a creaking and some rustling from the other end of the line.

"Oniichan? Tadaima!" came a voice.

"Oh, sorry, she just got back," Taichi said sheepishly. "Hikari! Okaeri—what happened? You're soaked!"

"Ah, I forgot to take my umbrella today… I'm okay, oniichan."

More rustling. "Here, towel," Taichi grunted. "Sorry, Takeru. She's here now."

"Who're you talking to?" He could hear her voice faintly. "Takeru-kun?"

So sweet his heart ached. And now he was worried. Had she walked all the way home from school in the rain? She must have been soaked to the skin. Even as he fretted he had to will away the image of her white uniform wet and sheer and clinging to her body. Absolutely not. He was almost glad (well, not really) that he wasn't with her.

"Is she okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, she's fine."

"Oniichan, is that Takeru-kun?"

"Hurry up and change, then you can call him yourself if you want," he chided, ignoring her question. "Okay, Takeru, I'll talk to you later."

"Okay. Bye." He didn't mind the assumption that she would be with him, or at least know where she was. Even her own brother seemed to acknowledge as much, which he realized was saying something.

"Oniichan." Hikari peeked around her brother's door. She was dry now, and fresh out of the bath.

He sat on the floor beside his desk, scrubbing at his cleats. He barely glanced up, but she wordlessly perched herself on his chair, comforted by the sound of the falling rain and the methodical sweeping of the brush.

"You aren't going to talk to Takeru?" He spoke up.

She shrugged. "Maybe later." They had plenty to talk about, but she felt compelled to be with her brother for the time being. It gave her a sense of stability. Reassurance that things were just as they always were.

He was silent at this. She thought he looked slightly relieved, but it might have just been her imagination. She watched him carefully. His broad shoulders and weathered hands, the rough glint of focus in his brown eyes. He was the same as he always was to her—cool, strong, reliable. He could do no wrong. But there was also pain, there. Uncertainty. As their leader, he had always shouldered the burden of making the difficult decisions, and now those decisions were getting harder and harder. The axis of wrong and right was now stratified, on a variety of different levels, no longer the linear, simple scale that they had known and lived mightily by as kids.

For a moment, she had the urge to curl up alongside him and nestle herself in his arms. How long had it been since he'd held her that way? A while now, now that they were older. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to comfort him or to be comforted by him, but regardless, sitting there at his desk, watching his tired but relentless eyes and the worry lines that had developed between his brows, she wanted to feel close to him.

"Oniichan."

"Mm?" The steady sweeping never stopped.

She closed her eyes, and for some reason saw Takeru's smiling face. She shook her head. "I saw Jou-san and Mimi-san today, on the way home from school. I had underestimated you."

"Hm? What are you talking about?"

"Jou-san. You said it wasn't that he didn't come. He couldn't." You were right.

He locked eyes with her, and a sense of understanding passed between them. She smiled.

"Jou-san… seems like he might be looking for an answer. Maybe you should try talking to him."

"It's fine." He broke eye contact and went back to his cleats.

"Oniichan." Was he just being stubborn? No, it wasn't just that.

When he spoke again, his voice was softer, empathetic. "There are some things that he doesn't want to face right now."

She leaned back into the chair and thought about it. "Like… the fact that he's a chosen?"

"If I talk to him, then he might have to deal with that."

His words seemed to be more about himself than about Jou. The urge to embrace him came back, but she couldn't keep the image of blonde hair and sea green eyes out of her head. It felt weird to mix the two—thoughts of Takeru with her affection for her brother. So she stayed where she was.

"You too?"

He glanced up again as if stunned. "What?"

So you don't see it, oniichan. But I know. "Is there something you don't want to face either? Is that why you can't talk to Yamato-san?"

She held his gaze, refusing to back down, and searched the depths of his eyes. He bore her scrutiny for a moment before escaping with a disgruntled sigh and turning away.

"...It's late. You should get to bed."

a/n: next is festival time!