Disclaimer: Digimon couldn't be more NOT mine. If I owned Digimon, apples would be oranges and everyone would be gay. But they're not. So we don't. So there. I'm not getting any profit of this story, unfortunately, so please don't sue me. One, because I don't any of this. Two, I'm not getting any profit out of this, so what would you sue me FOR? Want some pocket lint? I also have this very nice pen that I stole from a hotel. You can have that, if you want. This disclaimer applies to every chapter of the fic, because I don't feel like putting it in every damn time.

Warnings: This is shounen ai. Everything that comes from my pen/keyboard WILL BE SHOUNEN AI. Keep in mind, this is Fanfiction, and also an AU, so you might as well forget everything you ever knew about the show. I have an extreme dislike for Digimon, apparently, because they've never made an appearance in any fic I've written, and probably won't any time soon. So don't get your hopes up. Also, you can expect some language, violence, and anything else I feel like throwing in at the time. Take the warning seriously, whatever it is now. I honestly don't have any idea. I'm not redoing this again, and the rating's gonna change as it goes along. So there.

Notes: If you hadn't noticed yet, I changed the format. Of everything. It's a little weird, isn't it? I hope it doesn't bother you guys too much, but if it does…well, I guess that's too bad, because I'm not changing it. XD I really apologize if it does, though.

PROLOGUE

The rain was violent, screaming down in angry torrents and splashing against the rough concrete pavements of the sidewalk and pathways outside.  Anda Cho, the front desk secretary of Yukimoto Academy, was settled comfortably in her chair, sorting dorm room assignments on the computer – she was a terrible procrastinator, really, and she hadn't done them yet.  The new semester was starting soon, and the headmistress Akimoto Toshi would be angry if they weren't done soon.  Hell hath no fury like Toshi discovering her expressly requested dorm arrangements were incomplete.

Chilled by a frightening – but somewhat amusing – mental image of Toshi bearing down on her, glasses catching the light menacingly and demanding that she have the dorm assignments NOW – not tomorrow, not later, but NOW! – Cho typed faster, driven by fear of her somewhat crazy superior.

For you see, Toshi was a very scary woman when she was angry. There was a certain way her clipped brown hair would sway as she gestured madly, caught in the flow of her frustration, and a special way her matching eyes would fade to an almost black; voids as dark as space, and just as cold, too.

…Cho most definitely typed faster now, flicking through the paperwork strewn on her desk at the remembrance of just how loudly and shrilly Toshi could yell. She had entrusted this job to Cho, and Cho alone – and by God, Cho would finish it!

It was around then that the revolving glass doors spun open, the young woman rushing in and dripping summer rain in soft, crystalline streams onto the tile floor. She looked breathless, her brown eyes tired but still possessing more life than Cho could ever hope to obtain, her chest heaving under the red sweatshirt she wore…

…and at her side, a teenage boy was standing, somehow managing to look brave, frightened, stubborn, and terribly young at the same time. He was wearing muted colors – a faded brown shirt and black slacks, but his hair was spiky and wine-colored, and his eyes were soft and much like hot chocolate; just as smooth and brown and warm.

All of this she noticed, but all she said was, "Can I help you?"

"I need to enroll this boy for the year," the woman said, sounding even more breathless than she looked, which is a hard thing to do, you know. Idly, she squeezed some water from the spikes of her hair, and Cho noticed that it resembled the boy's greatly.

"I'm sorry," Cho said, only half working on the dorm assignments now, "but there aren't any boarding rooms open, and it's too late to enroll, anyway." A pause. "I really am sorry."

She slumped like someone had deflated her.  She wailed, "But you don't understand!"

"I'm sorry, ma'am –"

"I can pay you extra," she said, hurriedly, and pulling money out of a small purse Cho hadn't even noticed she had. "Really, please, please, I can't take care of him, you have to accept him –"

Cho had stood by now, planting her hands on her hips and her feet firmly in front of the redhead. "I said I'm sorry, ma'am, but we simply don't have any rooms open!"

"Like I said," the other woman hadn't even paused for breath yet, "it's very important that he gets in this year, he's…I can't…" She finally sucked in a gulp of air, feeding on it to refuel her intensity, and seemed to compose herself. She smoothed over her wet hair and wrung some of the summer rain from her clothing. "I'm sorry." She looked up, and straight into Cho's eyes. "Can I speak to the headmaster, please?"

Considering the look of fierce determination on the woman's face, and the shy, embarrassed look mixing in with the enigma of other emotions stirring about the teenager…

"I'll be just a minute," said Cho, and disappeared from the room.

The woman turned to the boy, gripping his shoulder. "I have to go now," she said, her voice a fierce whisper. "You be good and don't get yourself kicked out, squirt. I'm not coming back for you."

"I know." He paused to embrace her. "I won't miss how lazy you were, Jun, or how you went after every guy we passed, but…"

"It's okay, stupid. I get what you mean, Daisuke; you don't have to tell the world about it." She returned the hug, and Daisuke wisely refrained from questioning what world he was telling all this to – they were alone in the room. "For all your stupid jokes and weird habits, I'm gonna miss you too," she told him.

She released him, quickly crossing the room with hurried, clumsy steps to steal a piece of crisp white paper from Cho's printer, and a pen from the holder on the desk. Hurriedly, she scrawled something on it in careless script and folded it on the desk, leaving the money she'd pulled from her purse by it.  She then went to the doorway, only pausing to look back at Daisuke over her shoulder with worry in her eyes.

"Hey, squirt –" she began.

"I'll be fine," he waved her off, "don't worry about me, stupid." Then he grinned, his teeth flashing white as lightning scorched across the sky outside, illuminating all the world for a moment with a halo of fresh and scattered rain, and for that moment – just that one moment, she believed him.

When Cho returned to the room, Daisuke was standing  where Jun had left him, and Toshi thoughtfully went around her coworker to pick up the note left by Jun on the desk. It read:

This is Motomiya Daisuke, he isn't any trouble.

Comments are strongly encouraged. Um, I love you...?