"...This is childish."

"No, it's necessary!" Taichi retorted in reply, a tub of paint neatly nestled in one arm.

"You sure have a problem with mixing up the words 'necessary' and 'stupid,'" Yamato said, squinting his eyes shut nevertheless. "We came here to find her, not play another war game."

"But we have to be disguised and ready!" The small brunette, now at a healthy, warrior age of 9, dipped two small fingers into the paint bucket. "Someone's gonna recognize both of us, and then it'll be back to the training grounds we go. This way, we'll be able to sneak in properly!"

Yamato sighed in exasperation. Sometimes, he didn't understand why he put up with his friend's silliness. Taichi sure was something, but was he willing to risk his other friend for another one of his games? A childhood, cherished friend, no less?

Maybe he shouldn't have told Taichi about not seeing Sora in her quarters after all. But then again...

When Yamato opened his right eye, just a breadth of a bit, he could see worry lining the brown iris' of his friend's eyes. Maybe Yamato wasn't the only one upset at this revelation, so he trusts Taichi to guide the both of them in their worry.

Then again, wasn't he supposed to be resonsible for the both of them? It sure seemed that way sometimes.

"Stop thinking and close your mouth, or else the paint will get in!" Taichi made a move to drag his blue-painted fingers across the sides of Yamato's cheek. He hadn't realized his mouth was puckered and opened in thought while he was thinking. Nor did he realize that Taichi knew him well enough to know that he was currently thinking.

The brunette paused when he moved to paint Yamato's right cheek. "We're gonna find her, Matt. Don't worry too much."

Yamato bit his lower lip, still keeping his eyes closed. He was that readable, wasn't he? He was sure that Taichi could barely see him as well, as they were currently hiding in a damp and dark cleaning closet. But that didn't seem like it could stop Taichi from trying to empathize with the person in his closest vincinty right now.

He heard a bucket clamour softly to the ground. Through his eyelids, he could see that the closet had brightened up, and his face had gotten warmer. "I can't get burnt, remember?" Taichi said, as soft as the fire currently in his lap. "So just tell me before we save Sora. If you even want to save her, if you don't know if we can—"

Yamato let out a steady breath, steady enough to keep the fire in his lap ablaze. "Of course I want to save her, it's just..."

"...Yamato, open your eyes."

He did as he was told. What he saw was not just one small fire in his lap, but a million others in the room around them. Nothing seemed to be getting burnt. "T-Taichi, what are you-?"

"If everything else in this room can't get burnt, you can't either, Matt." Taichi let the small fire in Yamato's lap go. It didn't burn him, nor did it go out in smoke. "If you care about something that much... you can help them without hurting everyone else. Pushing everyone else away." Taichi grinned. "Because I know that's what you like to do, what you don't intend to do, but you do anyway, out of your own control." Yamato winced. So he knew about what happens if the blonde stayed out in the dark for too long, under the moonlight for too long. It wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling, turning into the literal embodiment of hurt and rage and—

Taichi saw him wince. He moved to pick up the nearly forgotten paint bucket on the closet floor, dipping his fingers into the paint once again. The small fires still haven't gone out. "So... don't be afraid to do the right thing, when it comes down to it. Because I can't get burnt and I won't let myself be burnt, if it means you finally get to do what you want, not influenced by any weird powers or weird parents or anything like that. I know you want to save Sora—so we will." Taichi didn't say anything about what he wanted, but that was alright, because when you were teaching lessons, you have to think of the student in front of you. Or, as Taichi would like to put it, the friend in front of you. And his friend wanted to find Sora, so Taichi wants to make sure he finds her, because he knew Yamato and his little, hurt and angry demons.

Yamato smiled inwardly, refusing to show his newfound happiness to his friend. "When did you get all philosophical?"

Taichi snickered. "When you decided to get all mopey. But then again, it's not like you always aren't."

The brunette dodged a hefty punch to the shoulder, still balancing the paint bucket in one arm and his painted fingers in the other. "Don't move me, or you'll mess up the paint!"

Yamato sat back down, this time having trouble containing the grin that had sprung to his face. Taichi continued to work, the small fires around them still glowing with the same intensity as they did before. "How exactly did you get your Fira magic so strong?"

Taichi shrugged. "A lot of practising, I guess. I can even do it in the water!" He made a move to stick one of the small fires around them into the paint bucket, when Yamato quickly moved to stop him, remembering how easily flammable paint was.

"That's not water, it's paint," Yamato said. "You can show me afterwards."

Taichi rolled his eyes, and continued to add the paint to Yamato's cheeks. They sat there in comfortable silence for a while.

Taichi wiped his hands on his pants standing up to admire his work, "You can get up now! Hold on, actually, I think I can find a mirror!" Yamato sat on the ground as he watched the brunette navigate the closet using his small sparks of light. The blonde rolled his shoulders to give the rest of his body a wake up call from sitting for so long. As he stretched, he saw Taichi hop back from a corner of the closet, a small pocket mirror in his painted fingers.

He handed the mirror over to Yamato. "See, now you look like you have battle scars!" he exclaimed, brimming with the joy and warmth of the million lights around them. "Don't say a word—you know, I think they fit you!"

And they certainly did—the four long, blue lines acting as two sets of claw marks on the sides of his face gave him more confidence. More confidence about his ability to control his ability. Because even though they reminded him of his unstable powers, even though they reminded him of his inhumane form, at least he knew that the marks were added by someone who trusted what he himself didn't.

And that was decidedly the most anyone could do to compliment him. So, of course, he greeted a long-time-no-see smile in the mirror as his friend moved to guide the both of them out of the closet.

AN: Let it be said that I enjoy the dynamics these two had in Digimon, and I would've loved to see it with Lea and Isa (because they're way too similar, and nothing can change that). And with KHIII, I think I'll be getting my wish. :P Has anyone noticed the references as well? But anyways, what happened to Sora? Where exactly is she? I'll let you know in the next chapter. ;) Thanks for continuing to read this story!