A/N: Written for the Digimon Flash Bingo Challenge, 736: Matsuda Takehiro (Takato's father).
The Prelude to Guilmon Bread
It was usually Yoshie who fussed about in Takato's room, but that day it was Takehiro looking for something. A drawing of Guimon to be exact, because he knew his son well enough to be reasonably sure there'd be one – or many, tucked into books and folders and who knew where else. If his homeroom teacher wsan't so strict, he'd be sure they'd be in school books as well, but she was, so Takehiro was left searching other nooks and crannies of the room.
His first destination had been the box his son kept his spare cards, but there was only a crudely colours blue paper, roughly the same size as the authentic card. He tried the sketchbook as well, but they were all pictures of his friends: Hirokazu, Kenta, Juri…and, more recently, Jenrya, Rika and a host of Digimon friends.
Those shots of Guilmon weren't what he was after though. He needed a clear image of his face, one that would replicate itself onto his bread, and would help him in keeping the promise he'd made to his son's Digimon partner. And it was hard to see the face when Guilmon was munching down on their bakery's leftovers, or had another Digimon stuck to its face, or was hiding under a box or Takato's jacket.
He put the sketchbook back where he found it and dug about a little more. Takato's room wasn't exactly messy, mostly thanks to his wife, but that simply meant that loose papers made a nice neat stack, and sketchbooks made another. It didn't mean that he wouldn't find old math assignments mixed in with doodles ranging from plain boredom to Juri's hand puppet, or a sketchbook containing mostly Kai-centric pictures from years ago mixed in with one depicting Hirokazu and Kenta's latest quarrel.
He finally found the picture of Guilmon in a scrapbook, sketches of different positions pasted in or drawn directly. Some of them looked as though they'd been torn from pocket notebooks, others on the back of things he no longer needed. For a moment, Takehiro simply marvelled at his son's drawings, staring at the well-defined face and tail and claws, then he set about making his own sketches.
An hour or so later, he was kneading dough for his first batch of Guilmon bread.
