A/N: If you haven't at least watched the five minute preview of Tri that came out a few weeks ago, this is really spoilery. I took the liberty of using another translation (still accurate, just a different interpretation) of what Taichi says to Agumon in episode 3 of Tri.
Takedai. Hats.
Not Another Hat
The others acted like nothing happened. Only Taichi seemed to register anything other than complete and total oblivion. "I'm scared. I've destroyed so much without even knowing it. Not just buildings... People too. Someone could get killed," he'd admitted. And he was right.
Takeru stared down at the purple fedora in his hands, the one he'd automatically reached for as he got dressed for Yamato's live. Anguish gripped him, constricted his chest, made it hard to breathe. A lump formed in his throat, his heart was breaking all over again. The tears came, and Takeru suffered a brief moment of bewilderment in the midst of his sobs; hadn't he cried enough to fill a lifetime?
Apparently not, a little voice sneered.
A wail escaped him, and he couldn't hold himself up anymore. He fell to his knees, right there in his closet, clutching that stupid purple fedora that he hated so much, but it was all he had left.
"Why didn't you wait for me?! Why did you think you could handle it with just the four of you? We were a team, the six of us... The TWO of us... You said you'd always be with me..."
"Pleeeaaaase come with me, Daisuke!"
The red head narrowed his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. "Why," he asked, skeptical. "You've never asked me to go to one of your brother's lives before?"
Takeru's cheeks grew warm and he felt bashful for a moment, before reaching out to pull Daisuke close. "Well… we weren't dating before."
Daisuke blushed too and looked away, barely resisting as Takeru moved in to press their foreheads together.
"Nee-san will be there, you know." Daisuke pointed out, sullen.
"We can watch from backstage."
"She's so embarrassing. With her pom poms, screaming over everyone else…" Daisuke wrapped his arms around Takeru's middle and buried his face in the taller boy's neck.
"I'll protect you from her."
Daisuke snorted in amusement, and Takeru broke away, gently cupping the red head's face. "Please?"
"Mmm... Fine," Daisuke relinquished, only slightly begrudgingly. "… But if I have to suffer, so do you."
Takeru raised an eyebrow. "And by that, you mean…?"
A mischievous grin spread across the shorter boy's face. "I've got a present for you."
Takeru's hands fell to his side. Oh no, he thought. Not another hat.
It stopped being funny to Takeru after the first time, but Daisuke had gotten endless entertainment out of finding the silliest hats he could and gifting them to Takeru every chance he got. And as much as Takeru hated the collection that was growing in the back of his closet, he couldn't bring himself to be mad or refuse. Not when Daisuke's face lit up with unbridled mirth every time he placed a new monstrosity on Takeru's head.
"Fine, if it'll ease your own embarrassment." Takeru laced his fingers with Daisuke's and kissed the back of the shorter boy's hand. "We'll both looks like idiots Friday night."
"Are you kidding me?"
Daisuke looked from the purple fedora in his hands back to Takeru. "What?" he asked, all innocence.
Yamato and his bandmates were barely containing their laughter from the other side of the room.
"It matches your scarf!" The pure delight on Daisuke's face, turning his heather brown eyes the color of melted chocolate, beaming up at him… Takeru's indignation was fading fast.
The blonde boy resisted the urge to smack Daisuke's hand away when the red head leaned up, tugging the hat onto Takeru's head, and Yamato behind them finally burst into raucous laughter.
"Nice, Take-chan!" crowed the keyboardist amidst fits of giggles. The other boys wolf-whistled.
Daisuke flicked the tip of the hat so it sat a little better on Takeru's head and brought his face in close. "This never gets old," he murmured, biting his lip.
Takeru grunted, glaring over at his brother in utmost betrayal. But the Child of Hope did have one last piece of ammunition. "Oh, I just remembered. Your sister is already out there. She has front-row seats." Takeru almost felt bad at the look of horror that dragged over the shorter boy's face.
The band was still laughing behind them.
Daisuke's eye suddenly looked pleading, and he hooked his fingers into Takeru's shirt. "Can we go home?"
Takeru grinned, calling behind him. "I think we're about even now, don't you guys?"
The band all nodded, murmuring affirmations between snickers as they picked up their instruments and headed out to the stage.
Daisuke buried his face in Takeru's neck and mewled, "Nooooo…."
The blonde boy wrapped an arm around Daisuke's shoulders and started leading him to the door.
"C'mon, Petunia. You can hide behind me and my big gay hat."
Back on the floor of his closet, tears still streaking his face, lungs burning, fingers clutching the fedora like it was his last lifeline, Takeru almost jumped out his skin when the text message jingle from his cell phone went off and broke him from his reverie.
He palmed his eyes, trying to dig out the last of the tears, wiped them away and squinted at his phone in the dark of the closet.
I'm downstairs, you ready? read the text, from Yamato.
Takeru exhaled loudly, shakily, trying to get the lid back on his grief, to deal with it. He headed to the bathroom, splashed water on his face, and plastered on the best smile he could manage as he sped out the front door, that stupid purple hat clutched tightly in one hand.
When Yamato caught sight of it, he sneered, "Still toting that ugly thing around? Where'd you even get it?"
Takeru's chest constricted, but he forced a weak chuckle. "It… it goes with my scarf."
A/N: there's another one of these coming for the over-sized baseball cap, and any other hats Takeru ends up wearing in Tri. My theory is that literally every hat he owns he got from Daisuke, and they're all he has left of him.