A/N: I've been meaning to write this since I was 13. Four years later and here you go!

Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.

"Fingers Crossed"
Chapter One: All Goes To Hell

There was always music playing in Yamato Ishida's head. Whether it be brash and loud or sad and mellow, there was always some complex composition orchestrated in his mind. The tune would often migrate from his brain to his lips where he would hum it for the world to enjoy. After that it was only matter time before it was echoed by his guitar.

With a rough childhood and a struggle to find his place in society, Yamato found pleasure in what he could. Girls, drugs but mostly music.

Yamato's lithe fingers strummed elegantly over the coarse strings of his guitar. Closing his eyes he relished in the soothing vibrations and sound. As the veil lifted over his cloudy azure orbs, he fought to see through an even thicker sheet of smoke.

Scattered about him his friends were relaxed in a euphoria of the drug of their choice. Across the room a dazed, half-dressed girl stumbled over a rolling Tequila bottle.

This was Yamato's typical Saturday night.

The blonde released a snort of laughter as the girl collapsed to her knees. His amusement was soon interrupted by an unusual cough. The sound was delicate and fragile like the cough of a sick child or dying bird. It was almost a pleasant sound compared to the familiar hacking of his friends.

Just as his eyes began to scan the room for the culprit a young girl emerged for the marijuana scented fog. It took seconds to process but Yamato recognized the face of the chestnut haired girl.

"Yamato?" she called as if to answer the question forming on his lips.

"Mimi?" the musician sorted through his shock. "What are you doing in place like this?"

"I should be asking you the same thing," her usually pleasant face cringed at the eye full of bodies littering the abandoned warehouse-- engaging in god-knows-what.

"I'm home for the summer," she supplied. "I stopped by your house and they said that I could find you here."

Mimi coughed again and waved the smoke from her face. He didn't rise to greet her and she frowned. She and Yamato had never been the best of friends despite their travels together in the Digital World. Mimi held hopes that her visit could change that course for the pair. Yamato had always been a loner and sort of a rebel. She always dismissed it as his demeanor; she never imagined that he would end up like this.

"Look Yamato fresh meat!" a greasy haired boy snaked his arm around Mimi's slender waist. Her muscles instantly tensed as she whimpered under his calloused touch.

"Let her go Keitaro," Yamato returned to playing his guitar.

"This one yours, Yama?" Keitaro sneered. "Come on you always get the good ones. Just let me have a taste."

Keitaro's dark beady eyes fixed on Mimi as he pulled her to him. His hand ventured up the front of her fuchsia top. Mimi's eyes pleaded with Yamato's. They had spent their childhood together. Was he really going to leave her to be violated by this scum?

Yamato calmly rose from his place on the beaten leather recliner and carefully placed his instrument in its arms. His eyes were closed but his expression was cool and stern.

"I said let her go."

And as if commanded by God himself, Keitaro's grip fell from Mimi. She rushed to her friend for comfort but found none. The same authoritative expression that had befallen Keitaro was now one her.

"Come with me," he groaned pulling her toward the door.

The night air was fresh and brisk unlike the thick odor of the warehouse. Mimi would have been grateful to be outside if it wasn't for her fear of Yamato. She had no idea what he was capable of.

They were both seventeen now and on the brink of adulthood. Yamato had grown his hair long and wore it in a short ponytail. According to Taichi's reports he was a genius but failed every class due to lack of motivation.

He was ambitionless, friendless and lazy. He wanted nothing more than to rot away in his convictionless existence. Mimi felt pity swell in her chest as her copper colored eyes observed the young man. What could have made him stray this far?

"I don't know what made you come all this way, but I suggest you stay away from this place and me," he turned away from the gazing girl.

"You can't mean that," she reached out to connect with his shoulder but he shrugged from her touch.

"I can and I do."

"Yamato?"

"What do you want with me Mimi?" He took a step forward. He didn't like being so close to her. "It's not like we were ever really friends."

"I want to help you," she began to dig her designer shoes into the soil nervously.

"Help me?" he smiled wryly. "I know you Mimi, you're a selfish little princess and that can't be changed. What's your real motive?"

She couldn't believe that he was talking to her that way. Sure at some point his words may have held some truth. As a child she had been blinded by her desires but now she valued friendship above all else. She had kept the lessons she learned in the Digiworld. Why hadn't he?

Giving up he pushed past the silent girl.

"Go home."

As usual Mimi let her emotion over whelm her. Warm tears already streamed down her flushed cheeks. He's such a jerk. She felt like a failure for not getting through to him.

Yamato's icy eyes watched as the girl cried. He was unmoved. Mimi always was the one to get upset over the littlest thing. Somethings never change, he thought as he closed the door behind him.