Disclaimer: Digimon is not mine.

Chapter 3
Blank Canvases

Sora's eyes scanned the same line of the fiction novel for what seemed to be the umpteenth time. The words seemed tinier than usual, cramped and blurred on the page. She reached a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut for some clarity. Second period in the library and Sora was sitting behind the counter, trying to figure out why this book that she couldn't part with on Friday, suddenly seemed more like a nuisance.

No matter how hard she tried to focus on the characters, her mind wandered to other things. Every word of every sentence found a way to relate to Friday. Friday would relate to tennis practice. Tennis practice would lead to Yamato Ishida. Just his name made her cringe with disdain.

Sora disliked having unnecessary people watching her as she practiced, and Yamato Ishida equaled unnecessary people. With the blond came just about fifty million rabid girls. Just why would he stay to watch the tennis practice anyways? Didn't he have places to be, corners to make out in, photographs to sign?

She groaned, frustrated with what was occupying her thoughts. Someone should limit the amount of people allowed to watch practices, better yet, ban any outsider from watching. It was unreasonable, she knew, but dammit, she didn't feel like being reasonable. It wasn't as if Sora had trouble playing in front of people; it was never a problem to focus during her matches, but at school, it made her slightly nervous. People who had no interest in the game only congregated there to hang out with their friends—or worse, to criticize the players. Her skin crawled with the hypothetical comments that ran through her mind. "Look at the way she runs," "Look at her hideous shoes," "Look at her shirt, her shorts," the list went on. Sora had never cared about what others thought of her, and she couldn't figure out why she was suddenly uneasy when usually, she'd just shrug it off. What changed?

"Hey Sora," greeted a warm voice.

The familiar warm voice broke her out of her turmoil. She looked up with a subtle hint of bewilderment, and felt chains tempered from guilt, constrict around her heart. "Connor."

He stood there, schoolbag hanging on by a single strap, and a polite, yet somewhat tender smile on his boyishly handsome features. His eyes shifted around the room, he cleared his throat, adjusted his schoolbag strap. "How've you been?"

Sora wanted to slam her head against the library counter and then hide under it. Instead, she made up for it by smiling as best she could. "Alright. What about you?"

The awkward air lifted slightly. Connor nodded and stepped up to the counter. "I'm doing okay."

"Anything I can help you with?"

"Yeah," he placed his hands on the counter, "Where are the economic books?"

"Paper?"

He gave a light chuckle. "Yeah. Mr. Turner. Eight page minimum, and you know how economics isn't my best subject."

"I remember." Sora paused for a moment, afraid she had ruined their friendly conversation, but Connor only smiled and she felt her heart lighten. She stepped out from behind the counter. "Come on, I'll help you find your books."

§

While Sora and Connor had scoured the library shelves for environmental books, the conversation had been relaxed and they occasionally joked around as they had before the entire ordeal. They had always been good friends, but the dating world could make the best relationships awkward.

Nevertheless, when Sora walked into environmental class, she felt as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Next time, she promised herself, she would surely apologize to Connor, but for now, just knowing that the remaining pieces of their relationship could still be salvaged was good enough. Seeing Yamato already in his seat, she even gave him a courtesy smile before settling into the adjacent seat, the events on Friday shortly forgotten.

"That cheerful aura of yours is making my hair sag."

"Funny, Yamato."

"So what's gotten into you?"

She spun around in her chair, almost about to tell him until she remembered what happened the last time she confided in him—she ended up beating herself up for the entire weekend. Sora's mouth opened and closed abruptly, realizing something.

"What is it?" Yamato asked with a brow raised in casual curiosity.

"…there are no rumors about me flying around…" she mused half to herself, half to answer Yamato.

"What?" His expression grew stern in a millisecond. "I see. You think I'm that kind of person."

She threw him a skeptical look. "Don't tell me you're hurt, Yamato," she teased. "And really, what kind of person do you think I am? I know you don't think I'm a saint."

His gaze hardened. "Point taken."

"But thank you."

"What?" It was as if someone controlled a flip switch to the blond's features. From amused, to curious, to strict, to angered, to confused beyond all reason in five seconds.

"I'm not going to repeat that."

"I—"

"I have your quizzes and I'm happy to say, the majority of them were wonderful." The two turned their attention to the front of the room where Dr. Bricks stood waving a pile of papers in her hand. "I'll hand them out later. For now, let me tell you about your group project." At the words, "group" and "project", a light scraping of chairs was heard as most people began trying to make eye contact with their desired partners. Eye contact and sign language, the silent dialect of students in a classroom.

"Don't bother looking for your group members. You will be teamed up in pairs according to whom you are sitting next to. Yes, take a good look at the person next to you because you'll be seeing a lot more of them if you want to pass this class."

§

With her head on the table they shared, cradled in her arms, Sora stole another glance at her partner. She couldn't believe her luck. Sure she may have been getting along like civilized people with him ten minutes ago, but that certainly didn't mean she was okay with being forced to work with him in order to pass a class. She groaned, muffling the sound against the tabletop and her binder.

"I'm not that terrible."

Sora glanced up with somber eyes, "Yeah, but you're not that wonderful, either."

Yamato scoffed. "If anything, I'm the one that should be complaining." He cast her a look that simply stated I'm-not-very-amused before returning his attention to the sheet of paper on their desk. Her eyes trailed up to his cobalt, drawn to them by something she couldn't put her finger on. "Look, I don't want to work with you any more than you want to work with me—"

"You seemed pretty amused by our situation when she announced it. Probably thinking of ways you could torment me."

"What were you, checking me out?" Indeed, he had been smirking when the project was announced. He was amused, but he'd rather get shot than confirm it for the redhead.

"You wish. I only looked over in hopes that you weren't really sitting next to me and last week was all a dream." She watched as a sinister smile crept onto Yamato's face. Disgusting.

"Sorry to disappoint; you're stuck with me. But don't worry darling, you'll drive me crazy long before I'll be able to make you suicidal."

"Ew, you did not just call me darling."

"All the girls love it."

"No, all your brainless, rabid fan girls love it. Do I look like I'm one of your groupies?"

"Course not, my 'groupies' are hotter."

"Oh, so you really are that shallow."

"Mr. Ishida, Ms. Takenouchi, I hope the two of you are discussing the project." Dr. Bricks came around their table, handing them each a piece of paper and sending them knowing looks.

"Yes Dr. Bricks," they mumbled in unison.

Sora glanced down at her quiz and wrinkled her nose at the big red 70.

"I'm as shallow as you are hopeless in environmental."

Snatching away the paper, she looked up at him in defiance. "So what if I'm hopeless in environmental, what did you get?"

He waved his quiz paper in front of her eyes with a big 100 and a sticker to taunt her. "I'm a little surprised though. I thought you were smart."

"Yeah, and I thought you were blond."

"Stereotypes, darling."

"Stop it with the darling." To her dismay, Yamato chuckled. Is he enjoying this argument?

"Let's face it, whether we like it or not, we're stuck with each other. Why don't we try to get by this with our dignity and sanity unharmed and just work together like reasonable people."

Sora frowned; if she didn't agree, it'd make her look childish. "Fine, fine, a truce."

"Okay, so what do you want to do?" Yamato asked, sliding over the sheet of project options that was handed out earlier.

"Since it's already clear that I'm challenged when it comes to science, which one's the easiest?"

He scanned the paper, "The environmental succession board."

"Right…"

"…you have no idea what that is, do you?"

"None." Go ahead, make fun of me.

Yamato's tone was nothing but understanding. "Environmental succession is the replacement of one kind of habitat by another kind of habitat. The example Dr. Bricks uses is the slow replacement of a pond by a meadow that eventually turns into a forest."

"Okay, so what do we have to do for the project?"

"It says here all we have to do is make a display board showing the process of succession. It's one of those superficial, creativity counts for everything, projects."

"Creativity, I can do that. You can do all the confusing science stuff."

"Sora, a ten year old could do this."

"Not unless their parents are rocket scientists."

Yamato rolled his eyes, but couldn't keep the grin from spreading on his lips. "I really gave you too much credit."

"You should've seen me in chemistry," she murmured. "Why are you taking this class anyway?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, "I had space in my schedule and this was the only science I hadn't taken yet. It's my strongest subject, I could use it to boost up my grade."

"That's a terrible reason."

"We'll see who's laughing when we get our report cards."

"You may have me beat in science, but there's no way your average is better than mine," Sora stated confidently with a smirk.

"Why was it exactly that you thought I was incapable in science, really? I hope it's not really the hair thing."

She replied without hesitation. "It's because I think you're a womanizer who has nothing better to do than to count the number of times he's gotten laid and which new brand of hair gel he should buy out next."

Yamato only stared, taken aback by her bluntness before he felt the beginnings of a laugh brewing in his chest. He couldn't remember the last time he found something so serious to be so comical. In fact, he couldn't remember laughing so much (or arguing so much) with anyone. "You're right about the hair gel, I'll give you that." His mirthful eyes met copper gold. "Well darling, I always thought you were an ice queen who played with emotions." His lone laughter was interrupted by the bell.

"Only sometimes," Sora answered quietly as she closed her binder and shoved it into her backpack.

§

"So Sora, I saw you and Ishida all comfy today in environmental," Taichi teased the moment he and Sora had walked into the cafeteria.

The redhead rolled her eyes and dumped her bag down into an empty seat. "Please Tai, just because we weren't at each other's throats for once doesn't mean that we were 'comfy'."

"You looked pretty comfy."

"We were not. We were bickering half the time."

"Just like a married couple."

"Married? Who?"

The two turned at the feminine voice and watched as Mimi rushed into her seat, eager to take part in their conversation about marriage.

"Yamato and Sora," Tai blurted out.

"What? No! Tai!"

"Sora! I'm so happy for you!" Mimi exclaimed and latched herself onto the neck of her best friend.

"Meems, stop! Yamato and I are not going to get married!"

"Twenty bucks says you will," Taichi chimed.

Sora raised a brow, "Didn't you just say that the other day?"

"I need details!" Screeched Mimi.

"There's nothing going on! Taichi just saw Yamato and I holding a reasonable conversation without threatening to murder each other in our sleep, that's all."

The other girl looked thoughtful for a moment, "Well, I guess this is better than nothing."

"Meems, it is nothing."

"Twenty bucks says it isn't."

"…I've stopped having this conversation. I'm going to get lunch."

"Why, because Ishida's on the line?" teased Taichi.

The girls turned and scanned the line; sure enough, the blond could be seen joking with his friends and about 257 girls eyeing him at the same time. Sora groaned. "I'm not going to get lunch."

"Twenty bucks—" Taichi smartly stopped when he noticed the glare his childhood best friend was giving him. He held up his hands in defense. "All I'm saying is a lot of girls saw you two together in class and they were pretty unhappy. My partner couldn't stop eyeing the two of you and kept saying something about Yamato being her partner if you and I hadn't been chatting in class."

"Who's your partner?"

The chocolate haired boy shrugged. "Some chick."

"Good job, Tai. What's your project going to be about?"

"Don't know yet. Come on, Sor, the project is due in May. It's only February now."

"It's due in May?"

"Too busy flirting to listen in class, Sor?"

"Sora! Flirting?" Mimi clasped her hands together and looked at the girl with hope in her artificially hazel eyes.

"No, not flirting. Talking. Since when did two people exchanging words become automatically categorized as flirting?"

Taichi grinned roguishly. "Since you entered high school, duh."

§

The art classrooms were on the top floor of the school and were provided with high ceilings and good ventilation for the oil paints selected students chose to paint with. Being an impatient person herself, Sora opted for the much faster drying acrylics. Swirling medium and paint together, she began applying it onto the canvas all the while listening to her iPod as she did everyday. She sat back and observed the result, cringing a little as she did so. It was a horrendously boring painting that showed absolutely no life. People often complimented it and however flattering it was, Sora could not see anything worth praising. It was bland and dull, lacking flavor and personality.

She was painting from a photograph of a snow covered path aligned with towering oak trees. The bare branches were powdered with snow and curved over the path to form a natural endless arch. Sora once thought the photograph to be beautiful, but now all she saw was a striking reflection of herself. Had she been so cold up to the point that she had subconsciously been showing it in her paintings? Had her conscience been trying to scream out and tell her something? She gave an involuntary shiver; talk about creepy.

A smile broke out on her lips and Sora removed the canvas from the easel. Conscience or no, she said she'd start over, and start over she would. Instead of destroying the painting entirely and painting over it, she brought it to the wooden shelves where the students kept their canvases and such. The shelves resembled narrow and deep open vertical cubbies, perfect for canvases and portfolios of any size. Finding her designated cubby, Sora slid the half finished canvas beside her other paintings and grabbed the largest blank canvas available.

Author's Note: Hi everyone! How have you all been?

This chapter has been slightly rewritten. The only part that's changed is the scene with Sora and Connor. It was originally a little to unrealistic for my tastes (though I admit it may not be too realistic now even, hehe), but I hope that this is an improvement!

About this chapter, I know the idea has been beaten into the ground, but I just couldn't resist pairing up the two as project partners. It's just something that makes it so it's impossible for the two to ignore each other. As for the environmental succession board, that's actually a project I had. Easiest thing in the world, and I didn't do it, I might as well make up for it now, right?

Well, thank you for reading, and please review if you liked it!

originally posted June 06, 2006
revision posted December 23, 2006