Author's Note

I don't own Digimon or any of these characters.

This is my first FanFic but I'd be happy to hear what everyone thinks of it. It was actually supposed to be a short one-shot but then shit just kept falling out of my mouth, so this is what happened. I might change things later but probably not.

Chapter 1

It was after midnight on Wednesday when she burst through the doors of his apartment.

He had been sitting on the couch for the better part of an hour starting at the empty screen of the TV, and picking at a thread on the hem if his shirt. He let his mind meandered over the events of the previous week, occasionally eddying around some memory before continuing its course. His earlier mishap had left him feeling addled and unusually introspective, an unfortunate combination. The flow of his thoughts, however, was abruptly interrupted by the petite brunette who, conveniently, was the only other person who had keys to his apartment. He almost regretted giving them to her as didn't even knock before unlocking and flinging open his front door.

He was both surprised by, and entirely expecting her forceful entry into his living space, as he knew it was only a matter of time before the news found its way to her; probably grossly exaggerated by his teammates. So as she stood in the doorway, panting lightly, he looked up at her from his nest on the couch and gave her crooked, if somewhat dazed, smile.
She didn't like that much. Her warm cinnamon eyes, which had previously been wide with concern, narrowed as her delicate mouth pressed into a scowl. She seemed to check him up and down before she spoke.

"Why didn't I get a phone call about this, Takeru? I had to find out from one of your teammates." There was some anger in her voice, but concern mixed with hurt still prevailed.

"It's not that big of a deal." He replied softly, his blue eyes doing their best to reassure her of that fact. He sort of thought she was cute when she was angry, but then again she was always cute. She was not reassured by his words or his eyes.

"You have a head injury."

"It's just a minor concussion."

"You had to leave in the middle of a game. The coach had to drive you to the hospital." The anger in her tone was becoming increasingly overshadowed by worry.

"That's just standard procedure. The school takes concussions really seriously, Athlete Services even makes us do these workshops like twice a year, and we get free physical therapy and I get note takers for classes that I miss and-"

"I don't care!" She interrupted. "You still should have told me."

"Hikari..." Despite her sharp tone, he could see her panic fading. He suspected that although she would still be irritated with him, he would be forgiven. "I'm sorry."
She pressed her lips together for a few moments before she accepted, rolling her eyes a bit.

"I know." She grumbled as she closed the door she had left wide open in her panic, and made her way over to sit next to him on the couch.

She sat down and promptly tucked her knees up to her chest. Her delicate fingers then found their way to his hand and grasped it tightly as they had many times before.
The pair was comfortable with each other's touch. They would often snuggle up together while watching movies or taking afternoon naps. Hugs were exchanged freely and they were used to placing gentle kisses on cheeks, foreheads, or noses. This was just another part of their friendship as it had existed for over a decade. They were equally comfortable with correcting anyone who confused these gestures for romantic or sexual. Their relationship had always been platonic in nature and neither of them had made any move to change that, no matter their private thoughts.

They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes. Hikari had inched closer to her blonde friend and her other hand had unwrapped itself from her own knees to reach out to trace undulating lines up and down his forearm. She did this absentmindedly, more out of habit than anything, but she knew that he enjoyed the sensation from the way he relaxed under her touch, and she liked being able to feel to the soft skin on the underside of his arm and the delicately toned musculature that underlay it.

"I thought you were still mad at me." Takeru finally broke the silence. Hikari looked at him with confusion in her warm eyes.

"From last week? We had a fight, remember." He continued, regretting having brought it up, but their fight had been on his mind earlier and he didn't like to leave things unresolved between them.

Remembering the incident, she blushed slightly in embarrassment, she was normally calm and gentle, but sometimes the pressures of the world affected her more than she cared to admit. She shrugged and smiled somewhat bashfully.

"If anything, you should be mad at me. Blame it on the hangover. I overreacted. I actually like the tattoo, now that I'm used to the idea."

00000

On Saturday afternoon Hikari had hobbled to the door of her dorm after hearing a knock. She had only just woken up and had been fiddling with the curtains, trying to close out the single, persistent stream of sunlight which seemed to always shine in her face no matter where in the small room she sat.
She was normally grateful for the large window, which faced west providing her with a view of the sunset as well as plenty of afternoon light. Her days usually began with her throwing open the curtains and enjoying a strong cup of tea. But today, with her head throbbing and stomach doing acrobatics from the previous night's adventure, she despised the window as well as the brightness it allowed into her carefully darkened den.

She was still wearing her cartoon kitten-covered pyjamas when she opened the door for a very enthusiastic Takeru. His brightness and ubiquitous smile, no matter the situation, was something she loved about him. Today, however, with his blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and his shining grin, she couldn't help but think he was just like that persistent ray of light shining through the curtains: determined to remind her of all the bad decisions she had made last night. She reminded herself that he wasn't intentionally rubbing his mental alertness in her face, but her sour mood was indomitable. He strode into her room and his eyes narrowed as he looked her up and down. A slight smirk appeared on his lips as he spoke.

"You had fun last night." His voice was the first she'd heard since rolling out of bed a short while ago and it was too loud. The aching in her head increased in intensity.

"What happened after I left?"

Hikari and Takeru had been dragged out by Hikari's friends to a club frequented by the university's population. Both had avoided alcohol in favour of dancing, but after Takeru had gone home with some cute boy with dark hair and hipster glasses, Hikari had willingly given in to her other friends' encouragements that she indulge in a few drinks.

"Drinking, dancing, more drinking. I made out with some guy." It was the first sentence she had spoken all day and she was entirely unsurprised to find that her voice was hoarse. Takeru nodded in response—he had guessed as much- and grinned.

"Remind me not to leave you alone with those girls again." He joked. Normally she would have come up with a witty response and they would have laughed and joked together. Today, however, the pain in her head kept her silent and she just rubbed her eyes for the millionth time.

After he concluded that she wouldn't respond, he continued with the original intention of his visit. He started to remove his shirt.
Hikari was alarmed by his impromptu stiptease.

"What are you-"

"I'm showing you something."

Hikari wasn't sure what he meant and she was still thrown by his actions, but after he had fully removed his T-shirt he turned his back to her and she instantly saw what he was trying to show her.

Although she would never admit it to anyone, she had the topography of his body memorized. She had had many, much appreciated opportunities to admire the smooth skin of his back and how it delicately revealed the strong and lean muscles underneath.

Now, however, there was an interruption of the soft skin between his shoulder blades in the shape of a shooting star. It was his crest, the crest of hope, outlined in black and filled in golden yellow with delicate highlighting that gave it an almost three dimensional appearance, although right now it had a slight haze to it. It was only about 5cm high, but to Hikari it was a major interruption. She reached out to softly touch the mark. It was raised slightly and rough where a scab had started to form over it. There was a slight sheen to the area where she assumed he had applied lotion to help the healing. She withdrew her hand abruptly. The skin she had been so familiar with had been permanently marked. Rather unexpectedly, tears started to put more pressure behind her eyes.

When he turned around to face her, still grinning and expectant, his face fell when he saw what appeared to be disgust on his friends face.

"You don't like it?" His tone was disappointed, even hurt. There was a prolonged silence.

"Why would you do that?" She responded, surprised by the sharpness in her own voice.

"I thought... You really don't like it?"

Words flew from her mouth without permission from her brain. She intended to hurt him, although she couldn't understand why.

"Now you're stuck with it forever. Your body is scarred for life, not to mention nobody's going to hire you if you have a tattoo." She was aware that there was little chance of an employer ever seeing the tattoo, but she wasn't mentally aware enough to care. Her head which had previously been aching now felt like it was being repeatedly punched from the inside and her stomach was still doing flips.

Anger flared in Takeru's bright eyes.

"Well it's my body and I can do whatever I want with it." His voice grew steadily louder until he was nearly yelling. "I thought it would be nice to do something to pay tribute to the time we spent there, and the thing we sacrificed, the friends we made... And I thought it would be good to have a reminder to always stay hopeful. I thought you would understand that, at least."

Hikari couldn't focus on his words through the pounding of her head. She knew she was overreacting, but at the moment everything was overwhelming and his yelling want helping.

"I can't do this right now." She shut her eyes tightly and pushed him towards the door.

He didn't fight it. He hated fighting with his best friend, so it was probably better that he leave now. He spun and marched out the door, still shirtless and clutching his shirt in his hand, and she slammed the door behind him.

Back to the silent solitude of her dark room, Hikari grabbed a couple of painkillers from a bottle she kept in a drawer of her desk, and she hid under the covers and fell back asleep.

Note

The tattoo and its placement is inspired by my own (which is the crest of knowledge, not hope). Also my friend group tends to be really physically affectionate with one another so I imagine Takari having the same sort of comfort level. Finally, Takeru in my head is bi. This is probably also a product of my friend group because over 50% of us are some shade of not-straight and I often forget that this is not the norm. For the record I am the least straight. Rant over. Thanks for reading!