day two: firsts

words: 674

characters: ishida hiroaki, tachikawa mimi, ishida yamato

summary: saying 'i love you' is not something the ishida men do very well.

notes: updating as a short collection to celebrate mimatoweek [for similar posts, search #mimatoweek on tumblr]. dozo!

Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon or Mimato, but I sure as hell own these stories.

"He's an idiot," the girl announced as a greeting. He stared straight at her, arching an eyebrow.

"That's my son you're talking about, you know."

But if she heard him, she only sighed, her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowing deeply. Somehow the gesture felt familiar, like something his son would have done very often.

"It's your fault then, for doing such a terrible job raising him."

If she had been any other girl, she would have apologised immediately after making such an affirmation. And if he had been any other man, he would've been offended at such blatant disrespect. But Tachikawa Mimi would not apologise for being honest, and Ishida Hiroaki would not reproach her for it.

"What did he do now?" he sighed, taking a cigarette out of the packet and holding it between his lips to light it. His fingers struggled against the cheap plastic lighter (the kind bought in gas stations and shady 7/11s), but all he managed was a few weak, pathetic sparks. Grunting, he placed it again in his pocket.

Mimi walked closer to the bench where he sat, taking a shiny metal lighter out of her small bag. The flame it offered was blue like his son's eyes, and Hiroaki sighed, lighting his cigarette.

"Thank you," he grumbled. He watched her for a moment, curious at how familiarly she handled it. Mimi only shrugged, unapologetic as ever.

"Yamato forgot it at my place," she explained.

"And you carry it with you?"

"I meant to give it back…"

Hiroaki frowned, exhaling.

"He shouldn't be smoking."

Mimi watched him for a moment, rolling her eyes as she sighed loudly. She didn't say anything, but Hiroaki knew she would eventually. She was Satoe and Keisuke's daughter, undeniably so. Not that he could ever forget, but somehow, today, it felt so important to remember.

"I told him I love him."

The confession tumbled out of her suddenly, without any previous warning. He let out a steady stream of smoke, not needing her to continue to imagine how that had gone. She showed no remorse, and he didn't expect her to. Still, to hear her say it like that, it was daunting. He slowly licked his lips, turning to see her with his head cocked to one side. Mimi was a very beautiful girl, with long hair the colour of strawberries dipped in honey and big, shiny eyes that looked like pools of gold. It wasn't hard to see why his sons were so taken with her.

At all.

He crossed a leg over the other looking away as he brought his cigarette back to his lips.

"Do you know what he did?"

"I can imagine…"

"He got up and left, without saying a word," Mimi continued, as if she hadn't heard him.

Hiroaki chuckled then, low and deep in his throat. Mimi watched him through narrowly slitted eyes, lips pursed.

"It's not funny," she reproached him, "It was humilliating."

"He's a good kid," he said, shrugging. "He's just a little, well … scared of you."

He knew his son, who was so much like him. And he thought he understood Mimi, who was like his Natsuko had once been. Similar, but at the end…

The girl sighed once more and he understood that she was unwilling to let his attention drift away from her yet; the idea almost made him smile.

"He's such an idiot," she repeated.

"He'll get over it," Ishida-san said. "He's not such an idiot as to lose you."

The girl smiled slowly, the tiniest blush touching her pale cheeks. He felt her head lean against his shoulder, without warning or hesitation, like everything else she did. Hiroaki was startled, but it was only obvious in the heat that rose to his cheeks, the sudden red that touched them.

"I didn't mean that, you know? What I said," he heard, her voice soft, and sweet. "You did a great job."