Title: Curiosity Killed the Cat
Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.
Notes: The compulsory (ugh) mass was cancelled so I got my double free back! I wanted to write something nice and fluffy, then suffered from a mood swing and felt like writing something horribly morbid. So this could be put into that grey area in between, I suppose. I wouldn't call it angsty, but it's got those sad undertones. I hope. Unbeta'd, since it was written and posted at school. You know what's annoying? Only about eight of the genres show up on the school computers. So if something has a genre other than those eight, I have to wait until I get home to post it. Like the Koumi I wrote yesterday; I had to wait because the Tragedy genre wouldn't show up here. Anyway, onwards. I haven't written first person for a while. Hikari POV (or any female character you want, really).

I knew it would happen eventually. It was inevitable, really. I just wasn't prepared for it to happen so soon.

We had two dogs; one belonged to Ken and one belonged to me. They didn't get on very well. We had to keep them separated with a series of barricades and gates around the house or else Ken's tiny, yappy Spaniel would tear the face from my gorgeous Labrador. They were getting better with time, but it was a slow process. They were kept apart unless they were both on leads and both Ken and I were present, ready to grab them if they went for each other.

I personally thought that all of Daisuke and Takeru's bickering had rubbed off on them somehow. The fact that neither of them had ever seen our dogs was beside the point.

We took the dogs for walks at the same time but took different routes so as not to aggravate either of them. Since Ken's dog was smaller, he was usually already at home again by the time I arrived back. Some days he was later than me, but I didn't think anything of it for ages; I just thought that he'd been held up having conversations with other dog walkers. That was the reason he normally gave me, at least.

I believed him. It just never occurred to me that he might have been lying. There was no good reason to lie about something so trivial.

Then, on a day just like any other, it all fell into place. I should have been able to see it coming, but I guess I was too ignorant. I really did love Ken, and didn't want to think about the future. I refused to acknowledge, for a long time, what was surely going to happen sooner or later.

His dog was much more hectic than usual, jumping all over the place and refusing to sit down. I wasn't ready to leave just yet; I'd just had a shower and my hair was wet. I couldn't go out in winter with wet hair, because I'd end up getting a headache. But Ken's spaniel wouldn't wait; he wanted a walk right then. So Ken said he would leave a bit earlier then me, and he'd see me when he came back. He kissed me on the cheek before he left. If I had known then that I would never allow him to kiss me again, I would have savoured it. But I just didn't think there was any need. As far as I was aware, there would be many more kisses in the future.

I heard him close the front door as he left, telling his spaniel not to eat the plants outside. I smiled to myself and dried my hair; afterwards tying it up in quick bunches. My Labrador got up and started sniffing at my legs when I went downstairs; she had grown used to going for walks at this time.

I cooed over her a bit before grabbing my coat, my scarf and my wellies. Then she started to get excited, knowing where we were going. She never got quite as worked up as the spaniel about walks, but she loved them just as much. I clipped her lead onto her collar and pocketed some treats, leaving the house and starting down the route I knew like the back of my hand.

I always let her off the lead when we got farther out onto the field; she was good, and never ran too far away. She always came back when I called her. But she loved being able to run around without the restraint of a lead, especially in dirt and mud,, and I enjoyed watching her. It made me happy when she was enjoying herself.

The walk was nothing out of the ordinary. We encountered the same people as we did every other day. There was a man in a suit with two Alsatians, two chatty women who looked like men with a Jack Russell and an old lady with three greyhounds. My Labrador played with all of the dogs, running around and barking with excitement, and ran circles around the owners. It was always a good thing that she didn't need a lead, or else she would always have been getting tangled up in the people's legs.

I got home about an hour later. I was freezing by that time, and I wasted no time in turning the heating on. I put my Labrador into the kitchen to keep her away from the spaniel, since I didn't know whereabouts he was, and called out to Ken.

I didn't think anything of it at first. I just thought he hadn't heard me.

I ventured further into the house, calling again. There was still no answer. So I called his spaniel instead, hoping for an indication as to where he was. I didn't hear his quick footsteps anywhere, or the clinking sound that the tag on his collar made whenever he moved.

Ken must have still been out. I let it be at that; he'd be home soon. He always was.

I busied myself by fixing some late lunch. It was cucumber, marmite, tomato and cheese sandwiches with crisps and a banana flavoured pot of yoghurt. It took a while to make, and longer still to eat. I didn't even think about the fact that Ken still wasn't home until I took my empty plate into the kitchen and glanced up at the clock.

Then I knew that he had been out for far too long. I thought that something must have happened, and I started to get that sick feeling that you get whenever you know something's wrong.

Fortunately, Ken never went far when he took his dog for walks. He walked on an open field with a trodden-in path that was practically right next to our house, and I had an unblocked view of it from one of our upstairs windows. Wherever he was, I would be able to see him from there. I reached the window in record time and leaned out, scouring the field. I was more than relieved when I spotted the figures of both Ken and his dog.

I had been frightened that perhaps the spaniel had seen a bird or something, and run off. Maybe even into the nearby road, which was always busy.

Then curiosity took over my panic, and I wondered what on earth he was still doing over there if there wasn't some kind of crisis. I could see the figure of another person, but from my distance I couldn't tell who it was. What puzzled me was that I couldn't see any other dogs, and I couldn't think why Ken would spend so long chatting to anyone who was just out for a walk by themselves.

I admit that I could be rather a nosy person, and I had to know who it was. In less of a hurry because there wasn't any immediate cause for concern but still quicker than normal because I was curious, I went to a box under our bed. It was just a box full of junk and random bits and bobs; in the past I was sure I had seen a pair of binoculars in there. Sure enough I found them, even if it did take me a few minutes, and I rushed back to the window.

They were still out there, so I held the lenses up to my eyes. It worked like a charm; I could see everything as if I was standing out there with them.

I could then identify the other figure as Daisuke; at least that explained the amount of time Ken had been gone. But they weren't just chatting; they were kissing. Proper, full-on kissing, with a passion Ken had never shared with me. They both had their eyes closed, obviously enjoying the moment. Ken must have been cold, because Daisuke had drawn him as close as possible and wrapped his own coat around him. If there weren't two heads sticking out of the top of the coat, they might have been able to pass for one person. Ken's hands were reaching up and clenching themselves in Daisuke's hair, and Daisuke's arms were wrapped tightly around Ken's middle. I doubted anything, including me, could have separated them at that moment. The spaniel jumped at their legs, barking with his tail wagging madly.

I turned away; I didn't want to see any more. The binoculars fell to the wooden floor with a noisy clatter, and I covered my mouth with my hand.

Everything suddenly made so much more sense. It explained why Ken was so often late home. It explained why he was always so reluctant to touch me, and to let me touch him. It explained why he always seemed to hate kissing me so much. And it explained only too well why he jumped at any opportunity to see Daisuke.

Deep down, I knew it would happen. That didn't mean I wanted it to.