Rather than one long story, this will be a collection of one-shots about every-day interactions between the digidestined and crack pairings I like to explore. I'll add updates as I get inspiration for them. Here is the first installment. I suppose it can be a Daiora if you want it to be, but I really just enjoyed creating an interaction between two people who didn't interact all that much.
Daisuke looked down at his bandaged foot and wondered how he ended up in Sora Takenouchi's apartment. A few moments ago, he had been playing soccer. Victory was in his hands as he dribbled down the line towards the goal. However, before he could make the winning kick, a player for the other team accidentally tripped him, causing his ankle to bend and his entire body to go off balance. A few moments ago he had been sprawled across the ground in pain, but he had been helped by someone very unexpected.
Daisuke was sitting upright on the couch in the living room. He felt very aware of himself. Sora was busy in the kitchen, but the two rooms were connected so she could look up at any moment and see whatever he was doing. His hands fell heavy against his lap and she felt them shaking slightly as he attempted to remain still. His normal, loud, assertive voice would not come to him.
"How does your leg feel?" He heard the girl softly chime from the other room.
The boy blushed. "Mm, it's alright, I guess." He wasn't in much of a mood to talk. He knew the soccer game was still going on, and he knew the team needed him. The boy couldn't help but feel as if he had let his teammates down. After all, he was their ace striker.
The girl smiled to herself, although she knew Daisuke couldn't see it. Gently, she tied up a bag of ice she had been filling and walked it over to the waiting boy. He took it gratefully and applied it to his wound. After a quick 'thank you', he wasn't quite sure what else could be said. No one had ever taken care of him like this before, and honestly, the person offering him such kindness was one he never would have guessed. He still had no idea as to why he so willingly followed Sora off the field when she had asked him to go with her. Perhaps it was the way she so generously stretched her hand out to him, or the way she wore her famous reassuring look. The boy remembered looking up at her from the ground, anxiously taking her hand. The sun rested behind her head and darkened her front features, but illuminated her outline. For as awkward as the boy felt being helped by her, he felt safe. He felt protected, and that was odd. Usually he was the one doing the protecting, but he didn't mind the change.
"You know," Sora began as she sat down on the couch next to him, "You remind me of myself a few years ago."
Now, Daisuke looked up in curiosity. He didn't need to say anything for the girl to go on.
"I was playing soccer and I hurt my leg badly. I wanted to keep playing, but my mother took me home. Mind you, I didn't go without a fight, but I followed her. The next game came up quickly, but my leg still wasn't healed. I knew I was in no condition to play, but I needed to. My team needed me."
"Did you go?" Daisuke asked rather quickly, interrupting her story.
The girl laughed once again before continuing. "No."
The boy looked slightly disappointed with her answer, but kept listening intently anyway.
"I begged my mother to let me go, but she wouldn't allow it. We ended up getting into a huge argument that ended in me running out, but I ended up being too late to play." The girl stopped momentarily and looked down at her palms. They still had water on them from when she filled the bags with ice. Gently, she wiped them against her pant-leg and went on, now looking past Daisuke, lost in her own thoughts. "We lost."
"Oh." Daisuke muttered. He could see the comparison. It was likely that his team would lose too. In the most crucial moment, he had failed them. As if saying too many words would open his wounds, the boy responded quietly, "That sucks."
"Yeah." Sora said, turning to look Daisuke in the eyes. When she faced him her face lit up, which was odd for such a melancholy story. Light lines of laughter and wisdom appeared in the creases of her eyelids as she looked at the boy. "But you know," she continued, "it was because of that moment that I learned what it meant to really love someone, and that matters so much more than any game to me."
-surflilu