Orokid: Okay… I know that it's been a while since I've written much of anything, but you have to understand that it getting stressful to write now. If you're interested in finding out why, visit my main page and it should tell you everything that's been going on in the last couple of weeks and months (minus probably the most recent).

Other than that, it's been a long while since I've written anything that has to do with Digimon. Since my last chaptered story ("Years Go By"), I've had a difficult time finding anything to write for the subject. Then, a couple of night ago, I was listening to something on my iPod (it escapes me what) and I slowly but surely found something to write about. Odd, eh? I guess it's just awesome to have finally written anything at this point considering my long running Writer's Block. I'm chipping away at it nonetheless, so… yeah…

Disclaimer: I have nothing to do with Digimon. I didn't write the storyline, create the characters, and I definitely have no money to have any sort of rights to such a thing. Sorry to any of the sue-happy hopefuls!^w^

A Sight To Pretend

The light from the moon burned brightly through the cracks between the leaves over-head, illuminating things in such a brilliance that it seemed more like daytime than night. Most of the others had already fallen asleep, drowning in their dreams and nightmares of the future- and if they had the ability to stop the madness of evil that seemed to swarm about them even now. Daisuke had, on the other hand, found that falling asleep that night was one of the hardest things he had ever done in his lifetime. Nonetheless, he attempted, lying still in his sleeping bag with his eyes softly closed, hoping to find peace in the wilderness that surrounded them in it's entirety. When his conscious ears had heard a soft noise, he had opened his mahogany orbs slowly and carefully to greet the unwelcome image of two certain people quietly sneaking away from their small yet cozy camp. By the mere outlines of the disappearing shadows, he could tell just whom those two had been- and his heart quietly sobbed.

Silently, once the figures had escaped from his gaze, the young man sat up from his sleeping position, deciding once and for all that the world of dreams had forgotten all about him- much like those that had walked off into the nearby brush alone. He looked down toward his hands, thinking to himself the things that he knew he shouldn't ever do.

He wanted to run after them and bring them back into the camp, only to remain awake so that they could not return to their midnight rendezvous. He wanted to scream at them to come back, to wake everyone so that the others would know of the things that went on while everyone had remained oblivious to it.

And, most of all, what he really wanted to do was sit there and cry, the others unknowing of the plight that burdened their young leader's fragile heart. He didn't want to stand strong and take just what the world gave him. He was tired of being the thick-skinned boy that each of them had believed him to be, invulnerable to the things that might break someone's soul apart.

Like getting one's heart broken when the truth comes and destroys all hopes that person might have hoped and dreamed and prayed for. Every one of his close friends believed that he could rebound easily from such a thing, thinking his affections toward a certain beautiful someone had been nothing more than a school-boy crush that he had over exaggerated. No one, not even the one that he cared for the most, acknowledged that he may have truly, madly, deeply fallen in love with her.

"Hikari…" The name had escaped his lips, a mere whisper unheard beneath the wind that had swept it's way through and above the treetops without an ounce of effort to it all. Slowly and silently, a small droplet of water had slid down his left cheek, splashing upon his hands that he hadn't realized to be shaking until then.

The dark haired male raised his right hand to his mouth, biting down on nerve and flesh until he had felt the trembling of his fingers halt. If the others saw him as he was right then, he wasn't sure if their confidence in his leadership skills would remain. Despite everything that he truly wished to do, he knew that breaking down and letting the world see how weak spirited he truly was wasn't an option for him. Their battles remained to be many, and falling apart at the seams before meeting the end with every bit of power and will they had was something that would cause him to lose his role as leader.

As his hand returned to rest upon his lap, his own teeth marks indented upon his flesh, he then found himself chewing upon his lower lip, keeping the tears to remain unshed in his eyes. His chest burned, his stomach lurched, and his heart ached painfully- but he refused to give in to the pain that had beckoned the tears he had restricted. This was something that he had to do, whether he wanted to do it or not, and knowing such a thing seemed to hurt him more than much of anything else had.

A soft, ironic laugh erupted from his throat as he sat in place and thought about all that he had been telling himself, hands tightening out of hurt and rage. He was forced to be strong because he was afraid of losing everything, and yet he already had.

It wasn't fair.

A particularly dense fog of leaves nearby rustled, and he knew immediately the cause of such a small disturbance. Those that had left their little make-shift camp were returning, bringing with them the ache and woe that he had wished desperately to escape from. Calmly yet quickly, he laid his head back down upon his bag that had become the pillow he slept upon. His eyes were half lidded, a part of him wanting to see something- anything- that may deny the truth in which he knew and understood more than he would allow himself to know. As the young woman with short cinnamon colored hair emerged from the surrounding forest, he caught sight of her darker lips, bruised from an act of what he couldn't help but imagine as they quietly made their way over to their separate sleeping bags.

And there, so just to dash any hope he might've had that the color of the beautiful girl's lips had been a trick of the moonlight, the taller blonde male had pulled her back to him, chancing a short kiss onto her cherry colored lips. As the two parted and settled into their cots, the heart broken man had turned over to face toward the empty and dark shadows of the forest, refusing to gaze toward any of those that he would have to face in morning.

He'd be stronger for them all, more mature than he was used to being, because that was what he had to be. He was their strong willed leader with a simple heart and mind, and he would be forced in the morning to pretend that he was just whom they believed him to be, unknowing of what he had seen prior to waking.

Slowly, the young man closed his eyes shut, allowing the tears in his eyes to fall only then and there, sliding down his cheeks and onto the bag that was his pillow.

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Orokid: So what did you think of it? I'm a little worried, to tell the truth, because I never beta anything (due to the fact that I hate asking people to, and my lack of an internet access makes it hard to do much of anything) and I realize that there may be some grammar mistakes. Nonetheless, I'm more than hopeful that it's okay enough. ^w^ Hope you enjoyed it at least.

Happy to receive any reviews- from criticism to simple notes. And, while flaming isn't illegal, one has to realize that everyone is entitled to their own opinions- mine being that Daisuke should've been with Hikari. Nonetheless, the unrequited love stories have always been easier to write than romance ones.^u^