Hi guys! I never really expected to be writing this but here we are?
If you have not read Never Hopeless, I HIGHLY suggest doing so. Much of this will not make sense if you don't know the background.
Reminder that Takeru is finishing the second half of the school year as a fourth grader and then bumping up to sixth. NH ended mid November 2002.
Takeru's face split into a wide grin as the end of the day bell rang. One more school day and then it would be spring break. There wasn't much of a reason to be so excited, his family didn't have anything in particular planned for the vacation, but Takeru was looking forward to the start of the new year. With some intensive tutoring from Ken, a few additional lessons from Koushiro, and the occasional homework help from Yamato, Takeru had successfully tested into sixth grade for the coming school year.
The boy hurried to collect his things and called goodbye to the teacher before rushing out into the hall. He wove around the other students to his locker, hastily stuffing his backpack and changing his shoes.
The surge of happiness at the thought of walking home was followed by the tiniest mental cringe.
School was fine. He had made friends in his class. His teachers were all aware he was doing his best to catch up. They didn't make a big deal when he was ignorant of recent events. There were so many new movies, books, and technology that had come out in the past three years that no matter how much everyone had done their best to catch him up, there would always be something. One teacher had really pushed him about his math grade. And maybe another had warned him that his handwriting needed to be addressed… but Takeru was working on that. It wasn't too much. School was fine.
The chosen of hope just hated that there was a part of him that struggled with being inside most of the day. It was a low key but persistent near claustrophobia while he was in the school building. Too many closed doors. Too many bodies pressed into the space. Not enough fresh air. Takeru imagined the issue was exacerbated by the abnormally cold winter they'd had. The apartment wasn't so bad, but the school was being pumped full of hot, recycled air. It was stifling sometimes.
He yearned for open windows and a the smell of new flowers. And now it was nearly spring break, the temperatures had been steadily rising, and the promise of ten days of going outside whenever he wanted was practically mouthwatering.
Jacket on and bag slung over his shoulder, Takeru made his way towards the front of the school. Just as he was passing the administration office, one of the secretaries, Mrs. Hagiwara, popped her head out the door.
"Takaishi, would you step into the office for a minute? I have some papers for you and your father."
Takeru did so, curiosity stirring. His father had already signed all the approvals to skip fifth grade (so long as his grades didn't slip), but maybe there were more formalities that he didn't know about.
The woman flipped through the neat stacks of paper piled across her desk, a somewhat distracted look on her face.
"They were meant to be mailed out Monday, but my meeting ran late, and they missed the pick-up time. Fujitaka decided it would be easier to just give them to you in person, even if it feels a bit informal to me- Oh, here we are," she pulled a large manila envelope from her 'outgoing' box and leaned over the desk to hand them to the boy. Takeru took it, nodding his thanks.
"That has your individual scores from the placement assessments, so make sure your father takes a good look and you can study up in the areas that need attention over break…"
Takeru tried not to make a face at the thought of spending more time cooped up and trying to jam more facts into his exhausted brain. He tightened his grip on the envelope and stopped himself from fidgeting. He really wanted to be outside. It was like an itch.
"-giving you your class schedule for the new year a little early. Your homeroom assignment should be listed there as well. We thought it would give you the opportunity to reach out to your teachers ahead of time if need be, or to meet some of your new classmates."
Takeru's heart skipped a beat. He was pretty sure Hikari or Daisuke were in Homeroom B. Both? Or was it A this year? He couldn't remember. Everyone else had gotten their class assignments weeks ago and Takeru couldn't keep them all straight in his head. It would be so much easier if it were just alphabetical. But then it would be impossible for Daisuke to be with him and Hikari…
Mrs. Hagiwara dismissed him and Takeru all but ran from the room. He burst out of the school and sucked in a deep breath that sounded more like a laugh on its way out. The sunshine warmed his face and shoulders and he sped over to where his friends were waiting at the gate, ripping the envelope open as he went.
"What took you so long? You're usually the first one out here, man!" Daisuke joked.
"I got a bunch of stuff for Dad, but I got my homeroom assignment!" Takeru dug through the packet, searching for his schedule.
Hikari and Miyako came closer, and Daisuke leaned over his shoulder.
"Oh, that's so exciting! I hope you're with us," Hikari's eyes were bright.
Miyako gave a groan of longing.
"I wish I had more friends in my class. I can't believe I'm not going to see you guys at school for a whole year!"
Iori patted her back.
"There will be five other chosen children at the middle school with you, Miyako. You won't be alone."
Takeru finally found what he was looking for tucked between the myriad of papers he couldn't care less about.
"Oh! Here, lets see… homeroom, homeroom, homeroom…"
"Sweet, we're all together! Hikari and I are in B too!" Daisuke clapped Takeru on the shoulder.
The boy stared with joy at the little 6-B printed in the righthand corner of the paper. Emotion swelled in his chest and pushed its way up his throat, escaping in a near-hysterical giggle. He was back to the grade he was supposed to be in. He was going to spend the next year in the same class as Hikari and Daisuke. There were buds on the trees and warmth in the breeze, and here he was, surrounded by friends and he was happy.
Really happy. Or maybe happy wasn't the word for it. He was… content. Like maybe things weren't perfect, but for the moment, Takeru wouldn't want to change a thing.
He was walking on air the whole time they walked home, barely listening to the conversation around him. Takeru waved goodbye to Daisuke as he split off from the group towards his own home. His insides were humming and it made his feet want to hop and skip down the sidewalk instead of plod along like the others. He'd have to bottle it up until he had a more publicly acceptable outlet like basketball or wait until he could jump around the apartment. He could tell he wasn't doing a very good job because Iori was side-eyeing him with a look that meant Takeru was embarrassing him.
He bit his cheek and slowed down a little. Things like keeping his actions "socially acceptable" were really difficult when he spent some very formative years with creatures that danced when they damn well pleased and didn't give a hoot about decorum.
"See you tomorrow!" Hikari waved, her pink coat flapping in the wind.
Takeru called goodbye, continuing on with Miyako and Iori. They lived in an apartment complex only a few buildings down from him, and if everything progressed as planned, his mother would be moving into their building in the next few weeks. She'd succeeded in getting a transfer back to the Odaiba office. It would make Sunday night dinners much easier when she wasn't fighting against miles of traffic or having to spend so much time cramped on the trains.
Things were still awkward when all four of them were together, but much of the air had been cleared in the first month of Takeru coming home. Things were getting easier.
Takeru thought about calling his mother at work to tell her the good news. He didn't. As excited as he was, that kind of thing could wait until he saw her on Sunday. His parents had been rather lenient on him since he came home, but he didn't want to take advantage. Calling people at work was supposed to be for emergencies only.
He did seriously consider popping into the Digital World to see Patamon. Takeru stood in front of the computer, his hand fisted around his digivice. He wanted to see Patamon. But Patamon needed rest, and the plan was for him to stay in the Digital World Monday, Thursday, and Friday nights. His partner needed to be able to hang out with the other digimon, and Takeru needed to be able to go a day or two without him.
Takeru scowled. He was anxious, but it was anxious-excited and not the prickly, cold anxious that he used to get whenever Patamon wasn't in sight. They hadn't broken their new schedule in weeks. If he went in now, Patamon would think something was wrong, and that certainly wasn't the case.
Turning abruptly away from the screen, Takeru threw his digivice onto his bed with more force than was necessary and left the room.
He needed something constructive. His blue eyes fell on the packet on the counter with his test scores.
Nope. Anything but that.
His stomach grumbled. There. That was something he could put energy into. Cooking.
Except, he was very inexperienced and knew how to cook only a few simple things. He often stood by Yamato and watched as he prepared dinner. Takeru had picked up on some things, he imagined… But what to make?
A glance at the clock told him that Yamato would be home from band practice within the hour. He could make them a snack. Something celebratory, but hard to screw up. No meats. Nothing that needed frying or marinating…
Takeru opened the pantry and pulled out his father's cookbook. He flipped through the yellowed pages quickly, only pausing here and there when something caught his eye.
Oh.
The boy stopped suddenly. He could make Okonomiyaki. It was less fancy and more of a festival food, but it was basically just pancakes. And he could add strawberries and kiwi… no, they were out- bananas would be fine. And sweet cream. They definitely still had a container on the door of the fridge. Those were closer to crepe toppings, but those were so delicate he didn't trust himself with them.
Takeru bustled around the kitchen for the next twenty minutes, all his extra energy going into whisking the thin batter and chopping fruits. He kept the heat low on the stove so that he didn't accidentally burn the cakes, or have the inside still wet, so it took longer than he expected to make a respectable stack.
The door opened right at he was pouring the last dribbles of batter out of the ladle. Yamato came around the corner and let his guitar case slowly slip down his arm, his eyes wide.
"Wow, Teeks… what're you doing?"
Takeru hovered over the final pancake in the skillet, his eyes flicking to his brother.
"I'm cooking."
Yamato laughed.
"Yeah, I see that. And it smells fantastic, but…"
Takeru could hear the question in the older boy's tone and couldn't keep a straight face.
"I got assigned to Hikari and Daisuke's class!" He said gleefully. "And I am waiting to tell Mom and Patamon, so I had to do something. So, I am making okonomiyaki!"
"That's great, Takeru, I know you were hoping you would," Yamato came over and scrubbed a hand through his little brother's hair affectionately.
Takeru chuckled but pushed him away.
"Don't mess me up, Onii-san, I'm working hard you know."
It turned out that the okonomiyaki batter made more than enough for two people. So, when Hiroaki came home from work later, Yamato cooked up some pork and they ate a second round.
Takeru's stomach was almost uncomfortably full, but he swore food tasted even better when he made it himself. Yamato was right about that. He changed into pajamas, brushed his teeth and crawled under the covers, still grinning. He couldn't stop.
"Night Teeks," Yamato turned off the light and climbed up to the top bunk, jiggling Takeru's mattress lightly and then settling.
"Goodnight, Onii-san!"
Takeru laid still a moment and let his eyes adjust to the dark. Then he squirmed. Onto his side. His other side. He blinked against the black, his heart refusing to calm down despite the hour.
When he rolled again, he heard a soft grumble.
"You're shaking the bed."
"Sorry."
He carefully rolled onto his back, picking at the covers so he didn't get twisted in them.
"We have school tomorrow. Go to sleep so I can sleep," Yamato sounded like he was trying his best not to laugh, but Takeru obliged.
"See you tomorrow, Onii-san…"
His brother huffed.
"Night."
It took Takeru forever to convince his body to sleep, but when he did, it was dreamless.
His peace shattered along with the bedroom window.