blah blah blah don't own characters whatever shut up. leave me comments. i eat them for breakfast.

Daisuke curled his toes against the fabric of the couch, his breathing even and his eyes narrow. His fingers flipped through the edges of the comic book, the top corners of the pages beginning to crease with each pass. Reading the same passage for the fifth time, he shook his head and slapped the book shut.

It was hard to concentrate. In a matter of days he was going to be on a plane to America. Everything he had ever really known was going to be a memory—and each moment alone was pressing in self-doubt and debilitating fear.

The man brought his knees up and rested his forehead on them. For nearly a week he hadn't moved much from the living room. The once packed boxes were torn back open as Ken's things was separated from his. They were supposed to go together—build a life across the sea in one of the biggest and most progressive cities in the world. It was going to be great. They were going to be a couple. But in the end, Ken had declined, and although Daisuke tried hard to be understanding and calm, everything within was shattered.

He was angry. Angry that he wasn't good enough. That he let himself believe. That his love may have been for naught. That all the time he had spent wanting and loving and being the best he could be for Ken, he was apparently so easy to just toss away. That his partner couldn't be honest with him sooner. About everything.

He was sad. Sad that he was going to be alone. That the best relationship he had ever had, friendship and romantically, was about to end. That after all of this, he wasn't even sure if he could keep the friendship. That after this, he couldn't even bring himself to love again. That, maybe, just maybe, this sadness would never truly go away.

But most of all, he was empty. Because at this point, no emotions really mattered. If he gave up on moving—if he stayed in Japan with Ken—there was no guarantee that they could return to normal. He had always thought he needed Ken as much as Ken needed him—but now he wasn't so sure. And it was moments like these that manifested his self-consciousness and insecurities—terrible demons that he always had a hard time fighting on his own. All of it left a bitter, sticky fog around his mind.

It was bad enough, he thought, that his parents already doubted his abilities. That his sister was underzealous about her younger brother's aspirations. "Going to America? Baby brother, you sure you can handle that?"

"If I could—"

"'If I could save the Digital World...'" She mocked. She really did care about her brother, as did the rest of the family. They just never realized how much their lancing left a poison inside of his bloodstream. "This is different. You won't have mom and dad to mooch off of anymore."

"I wasn't mooching, Jun." Daisuke slammed his fist on the dining room table. The small vase of fake flowers at the center bounced and swayed. "I was paying my due."

"And going off with that Ichijouji. How'd you ever rope him into that?"

Daisuke's eyes averted away from his sister's, his glance latching on the calendar in the kitchen. It was a couple of weeks from Golden Week—when Ken and him were to make their move. His mother had circled the date in a thick red marker with nothing but a big frowny face within its confines. "It's better for him career-wise. He finished school a semester early, and well… It just made sense."

Jun hummed. "Yeah, maybe… Wow, I bet all the girls will be all over him! Good thing you have separate rooms, if you know what I mean!" She laughed before adding, "Boy sure did grow up to be fiiiiiine."

Daisuke rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

They didn't know, and he supposed now they never would, that they hadn't just been roommates for the past three years. It took a lot of well communicated lies and elaborate backstories to keep their friends and family away from the truth. It wasn't that they were ashamed, it was just…

Well…

Daisuke's nose squinched up, hot tears stinging his eyes. All that there was now was a figment of what used to be, in the apartment they had shared for years. And he started to wonder why. Why had it been like this for so long? After living a lie for three years, Daisuke felt foolish for even being upset that Ken had waited until the last minute to be honest with him.

As Daisuke was pressing his forehead deeper into his knees, he heard the jingle of keys and the jiggling of the doorknob. Fluidly, Ken appeared in the apartment, quietly closing the door behind him as he entered the kitchen. "I'm home." He said softly, resting his keys on the kitchen table with little disturbance.

Daisuke's brow furrowed. He wanted to tell the man to fuck off but not to. All he wanted was for him to stay with him forever. Instead, he said nothing.

"Daisuke…" Ken stood an arms length away from the couch, looking down at the bundled man he had once called his partner. "I…" He did a brief scan of the room before continuing. "You… Didn't mail out the boxes."

Of course he didn't. He hadn't even left the couch in over four hours. He failed to mutter an audible retort.

"You only have a few days, Daisuke."

Of course he knew that. How stupid did he think he was? Anyway, what did it matter to him?

"This is what you wanted, and you have to finish. I'm not packing this for you."

And there it was.

"Shut up. Shut the fuck up." It was raw and pained and muffled and quick, striking Ken like a viper.

"Hey." Ken dug his hands into his pants as his shoulders jutted up defensively. "Calm down."

"I…" Daisuke lifted his face to rest his chin on his knees. "Don't fucking come in here and be all judgmental." He shook his head as Ken tried to protest. "I'll get it done. So, how about you calm down."

Daisuke could feel the flare of emotion in Ken, but his friend continued to keep his composure. "I can help. Most of my stuff is separated at this point. We can combine some boxes… Save some money for you…"

There was a scoff from the red-head. "Whoopie."

Ken moved closer to the couch, placing his hand on the back of it, his head tilted down to try to meet Daisuke's gaze. Normally, this would have ended with Ken wrapping his long limbs around the other man, their lips meeting in a happy greeting between soft smiles. But today, Ken found his hand squeezing the plush of the furniture, lips twitching into a frown. "Stop it. I know this isn't easy. You don't need to be an asshole."

"Ha! You should talk!" Daisuke's puffy eyes met with Ken's. "The Asshole of the Year is telling me I'm being an asshole? I'm not the one that decided to pussy out last minute. Fucking… Mess up our entire lives. The hell do you get off telling me shit?"

Ken's jaw tightened. Coming home from his job for the past week had been grueling. Being around Daisuke was like walking on and eating glass. He had half thought about returning home until Daisuke had his shit sorted out in an attempt to avoid all the stress and anger. "You're being unfair." Ken's eyebrows knit. "It's very unbecoming of you."

With a flick of the wrist, Daisuke threw his comic book across the floor, his body shifting to stand. His legs were wobbly and half asleep from having been sitting for so long. Whirling around, he pointed his finger in Ken's face across the couch. "I'll tell you what's unfair." He put his hands on his hips as he continued, "The past three years. All of it."

"Motomiya, please. You don't really think that."

"Do I not? How the fuck do you know? We never talked about anything!"

Ken was quiet, his shoulders resting down to a slump. "Yes, we did."

Daisuke's tone was turning to a plead, both his hands extending out, his fingers gently curling back into his palms. He licked his lips, "We didn't talk about what counted. We could have worked something out, but…" He turned and fell back down to the couch, his head hanging. "It's too late now."

Even before they were couple, they had their fair share of fights. Daisuke's lack of traditional emotional control and Ken's overcompensation of said emotional control often left a stiff rift between them. It frustrated Daisuke that Ken conformed to societal standards so much—even more so now as he noticed that the past three years had essentially been a veil of lies to cover Ken's shame. Daisuke had thought that he had been accommodating and thoughtful, but instead he had really been perpetrating values he hated.

Ken rounded the couch and sat at the far end, the space between them filled with the discontent of could-have-beens. "I wouldn't ask you to be who you aren't or to give up on your dreams, Daisuke. You mean too much to me."

"I wish I meant more." Daisuke wrung his hands together, his body shifting away from his jogress partner.

Ken was quiet, unsure if he should have taken offense. "Why… Would you say that?"

"Why do you really not want to come with me?"

"I want to stay here. America… Isn't for me."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Daisuke scratched the side of his face, stubble having grown out with a week's worth of neglect. "Are you ashamed?" It came out bluntly, heavy with disdain, and reeking of pain. He wanted to regret saying it, but he felt like he had literally nothing to lose at this point.

"A-ashamed?" Ken looked at his friend. A chill washed across his body and up his spine and through his throat, until he finally croaked out, "No. No."

Daisuke felt it. "Liar…"

The silence was brutal. Each passing second only solidified the truth. Daisuke bit his lip, his fingers digging deep into the cloth of his shorts, his nostrils flaring with anger and sadness at the very idea that he could be right. No. That he was right.

"Daisuke…" Ken turned toward his partner, allowing himself to close the gap between them. The desire to comfort outweighed the need to sever their intimacy. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man, placing his cheek on Daisuke's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

It was true. And it was why they could never truly be together. As friends, they were perfect for each other. In a relationship, they were a burden to each other. But the realization didn't make it okay. It wasn't okay. "Dammit…" Daisuke muttered, the word bubbling over the sadness in his throat. Because he didn't want it to end. For over a decade he never imagined a life without Ken...

Ken held him closer, causing Daisuke to draw in on himself. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't. He wanted to push him away, but he couldn't. Because knowing that even if Ken could follow, he wouldn't… And that just made it all that much worse.