Author's note: I'm in a mood. And when I'm in a mood, I either write really depressing or really fluffy stuff. I think this is going to be more on the fluffy side, because I've read a lot of really sad Takari fics (shit, I'm writing a really sad Takari fic) and I need to boost my spirits a little. This reminds me too much of my best friend, so I'm sorry if it gets overly sentimental. But that's the definition of fluff, right? So without further ado, I'll allow the fluff to commence.

P.S.: I lied. It can't commence yet. I think Hikari's a little out of character, so sorry. I told you this reminded me of my best friend, Takeru anyway, and... yeah. But hopefully it shall content my Takari loving fluff-fans (for fluff is so hard to be a fan of in today's scary-shipping-war world).

P.P.S.: Can you tell that I was freezing when I wrote this? I hate that not-quite-autumn, not-quite winter time of the year. I can't feel my hands!

I Never Liked the Rain

It had been a beautiful morning, Hikari reflected with a long, mournful sigh. The sun had been high and beautiful, and it had streamed through the classroom windows and created pools of light and contrasted shadows that danced across the room as the day progressed. But around lunch time, it began to get cold and breezy, and by the time dance team had been scheduled to meet in the gymnasium across the Junior High campus, dark storm clouds were rolling in. Hikari shivered; she only had a dark brown sweater to wear today. She prayed the rain would hold off for a few more hours, just so that she could practice, run to the yearbook room and finish what she had left off yesterday, and get home.

Judging by the sound of rain hitting the roof like footfalls of a panicked crowd, she had had no such luck. The yearbook room wasn't far, once she got to the main school building. But it was getting to that building that was causing her to hesitate whenever she went to take that first chilled footstep outside. Puddles were already forming on the walkway, and it looked much too dark for only three o'clock. She considered skipping yearbook altogether and just using her lunch to finish her work tomorrow, but that didn't really solve her dilemma. If it wasn't sprinting to the yearbook room, it was sprinting to the subway station. And that was three blocks away—not exactly favorable in this weather.

"Yagami!" a voice snapped. Hikari jumped and looked over her shoulder. Their dance team instructor, who was coincidentally also the girls' PE teacher and therefore someone the girls knew very well, stood on the far side of the gymnasium with her hand hovering over the light switches set into the wall. The other girls were nowhere to be seen, having already disappeared into cars or the torrent of rain as they hurried to catch the next bus home. "I've got to close up. Get out of here." The words weren't spoken unkindly, but they were final in a sort of way that made Hikari only nod and smile at her sensei.

She chose the yearbook room over the subway station; she'd work herself up to that point, she told herself as she trudged through water that seeped through the canvas material of her tennis shoes and made her feet cold and damp. By the time she had reached the back entrance to the school, which was closest to the gym building, Hikari's short hair was plastered to her pale face, and her jeans, t-shirt, and sweatshirt were drenched to uselessness. Hikari shivered as she stepped inside, sheltered for a brief time from the onslaught of the late-season rain. She wished it were snow; snow took a while before it made you wet and uncomfortable. Rain wasted no time.

If it was even possible, her shivering got worse as she walked through the halls, footfalls quick and squishy as her wet tennis shoes slapped against the tiles. She didn't really like being in the school when it was empty, seemingly alone with nothing but the shadows. Even when she had sneaked into the school to go to the Digital World, she had been with her friends. She wasn't alone. Alone was a really daunting prospect, and she wasn't sure if it was general discomfort or the cold that made her convulse with shivers. Maybe it was both. Either way, she almost dropped her bag twice as she hurried up the stairs, rounded the corner, and fiddled with the sticky door knob to get inside.

"Hi-ka-ri," a male voice rang out, and her heart sank. She thought it was Daisuke, in all honesty. That kind of call was just his thing, and hadn't the soccer team's practice been canceled due to the weather? But maybe he was like Taichi, and played no matter what the weather, and then complained of this "mysterious illness" he caught, which Hikari liked to subtly suggest might be pneumonia or stupidity. Weren't they both rather contagious?

But when she lifted her eyes to face (with courage, she told herself melodramatically) who had called her name, she was rather embarrassed to find that it wasn't Daisuke who jogged towards her after that enthusiastic hello. It was Takeru, looking in a very good mood indeed. He slowed to a stop, blue eyes raking over her while she blushed with embarrassment that she was thankful he couldn't understand.

"You look like a drowned cat," he observed. He was smiling, as though he were amused. Her cheeks grew hotter yet. Maybe he did know; maybe she deserved the not-so-flattering remark. But that didn't mean it didn't sting like the cold rain outside, coming from Takeru.

"You're such a charmer, you are." She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but giggle as she shouldered open the yearbook room. It was nearly impossible to stay angry at Takeru. She wasn't even angry. She just didn't know how to reply to such a comment; insult was about as difficult for her to process as flattery.

"No offense," he grinned. She cringed. She really hated when people tacked that on to something they said, as though that made it better. Takeru knew that too, but he seemed in high spirits despite the dismal weather. She couldn't find it in her heart to snap at her best friend. He followed her inside the yearbook room, leaning against a filing cabinet while she took a seat at one of the three computers the staff had available to them. They were valuable resource, and often competed for during yearbook meetings. No one wanted to do the work by hand anymore, and although Hikari didn't mind, it would be quicker to check off what she had to finish by just glancing at the computer and highlighting a few words than digging around for the to-do lists and meeting records, you know? She hoped it was something small, like making sure no one needed to have a last minute picture taken, or setting pages. Mindless work was good for rainy days like that day.

"Basketball team didn't have practice today," Hikari stated unnecessarily; their teams, dance and basketball, alternated usage of the gymnasium. Takeru didn't point that out though; he just nodded confirmation.

"Journalism," he explained. "Mom complained about my lack of educational extracurriculars, remember?" He rolled his eyes, but Hikari smiled. He liked the club, for all his complaints about having too much to do. He was a gifted writer,...and was constantly trying to talk Hikari into joining for the photojournalism aspect. "Speaking of which," he added in what he apparently thought was a subtle, casual tone, "we're looking for photographers..."

"I already have yearbook. And photography club. And dance team. And your games and Daisuke's and Ken's games and Nii-san's games and Sora's matches, regular e-mails with Mimi and Wallace, your brother's concerts,... Oh yeah, and homework," she added, as though as an after thought. Takeru laughed. "I don't have time for another club, Takeru."

"Yeah, yeah." He laughed again, and they faded into a comfortable silence as she tackled her work. She wondered why he stayed, vaguely. He did that sometimes, when they were after school together. But surely, he could have gotten home by now. It was only getting colder out, and the rain lashing against the window didn't seem to be showing any signs of letting up.

"Seriously, Hikari, you're drenched." Speaking of the rain. There was none of that teasing air he had taken to in the hall way now. He sounded all serious, like his brother when he got in an overprotective phase. Hikari sighed. "Did you run laps around the school or something? Talk about a tough dance class." He was trying to joke, but she still caught the heavy undercurrents of concern. He really was her best friend, but she thought the concern was unnecessary. She'd be fine. It rained a lot in Japan, but that didn't mean she liked it. Just meant she didn't complain out loud anymore, because what was the use in complaining about the inevitable?

"And you're observant," she teased.

"Ha ha. My side hurts from laughing," he said dryly. Hikari smiled a small smile.

"The rain picked up while I was crossing the lawn, that's all," she shrugged, typing away at the computer. Set this picture, add this caption... and she'd be done with her quota for the day. She should have talked less during her lunch period; she'd be speeding towards a fleece blanket, old foreign films, and hot chocolate right now. So would Takeru. "I might be a few minutes. It's alright if you wanna head home," she said, glancing over her shoulder at the blond.

"I've got nowhere to be," he replied. Hikari didn't reply, just frowned and went back to her work. She wasn't at it for more than a minute before Takeru interrupted again.

"Aren't you cold?"

"A little." To say she wasn't would have been a lie; she was still shivering, trapped in soaked clothes that she couldn't get out of until she finished up and went home. Anticipation was making her work sloppy, so that she had to consciously go back and reset this image, or change this font. It was taking twice as long as it should have, and her leg was bouncing with impatience.

"You're going to get sick," he said with a frown. She knew because she glanced over her shoulder when he said that. She smiled and shook her head, but the look in his oceanic blue eyes told her that he didn't believe her. No one ever did, when it came to her own well being. They said things like "you work too hard" and "don't worry about worrying us". She wasn't. She just wanted to get this darn work done so she could take a scalding hot shower when she got home, find some warm flannel jammies, and curl up for the night. No worrying necessary.

"It's fine," she insisted.

"How much do you have to do?"

She glanced at the computer and sighed. "Just two more pages." Not difficult work, but it grew complicated if her mind wasn't focused on the task. And it was difficult to focus when your jeans felt like they weighed fifteen pounds and your sweater had weights in the pockets, and she had to keep forcing her wet hair from her face because the water dripped and distracted her.

"Can you do them tomorrow? We have a free period second. I'll come with you," he offered, and her frown deepened. That thought had occurred to her as well, although she didn't want to admit it. Procrastination wasn't her thing; Taichi had claimed that one.

"I could..." she conceded slowly. Cold battled with responsibility, and she was afraid that cold might be winning.

"I have an extra sweater in my locker. C'mon," Takeru insisted; it was obvious he was on Cold's side, she thought with a mixture of amusement and annoyance as she let him pull her to her feet. She didn't let him drag her away from the computer though, not before she could save her work and shut down. She really might cry if all her work was lost in a moment of irresponsibility; it had been that kind of day. And yes, she was only too happy to blame the rain.

"You don't have to--" she said quickly, looking uneasy. "It'll just get wet."

" Some of us also have umbrellas," he chuckled, cutting across her objections as he led her to his locker on the floor above. They passed a few teachers, but no one gave them more than a passing glance. It wasn't unusual for students to be at the school until almost supper time. On some days, Hikari was one of those students.

" I hoped the rain would hold off," she admitted with a sigh. Takeru laughed. He was always in such a good mood, no matter what the weather was like or what was going on. She could remember only a handful of times when he had been anything but, and she hoped it would be a long time until she saw that angry or mournful spark in his eyes ever again. Happiness suited him much better, but on days like today she felt plain and dreary compared to him.

"I'm surprised it held off as long as it did," he replied, folding his hands behind his head. She raised her eyebrows, something that didn't go unnoticed. "Hey! It could've rained while we were getting to school."

She thought of her plain white uniform shirt folded and tucked inside her school bag. "No, thank you." Takeru laughed again, and she couldn't help but smile. She could be in a better mood inside, sheltered from the rain and walking with her own personal sun. She wished he could make her teeth stop chattering though. He glanced at her with concern.

" I swear, 'Kari," he said, shaking his head and using the childhood nickname that he only used sometimes when no one was around to hear. "You've got no blood."

"I do too!" she exclaimed, folding her arms over her chest as much for warmth as out of indignation.

"It's just got chunks of ice floating in it," he teased. She scowled. It wasn't her fault she was always cold, especially lately. The weather was screwy, in her defense. Cold and wet and cold and dry and warm and wet, but never warm and dry. She liked warm and dry, when she could wear cute shirts and skirts and shorts and enjoy the fields without an umbrella and those little Hot Pocket things to keep her hands warm. Hers had lost their punch a long time ago, as in before the rain even hit Odaiba district.

"Jerk," she mumbled. Takeru smiled at her.

"Love you too, Hikari," he said breezily.

For some reason, the casualness bothered her. It shouldn't have. They were friends, good friends. Just friends. For some reason that bothered her too. Geez, was she PMSing or what?

Comfortable silence seemed to define Hikari and Takeru's friendship. He was the one person she didn't feel the need to entertain, to smile for, like a dog put on display at those dog shows. Those were sad, she thought, like beauty pageants for little kids. Dogs were supposed to play, kids were supposed to get muddy and laugh about it, not cry because their curls came out. She didn't feel suffocated under pressure around Takeru, forced to impress at all times. In fact, he tended to call her out when she started acting like that, reminding her that it was him she was talking to. Like she could ever forget. He had told her once, a few times really, that she was the same to him. They got each other. He was her best friend.

And while "comfortable" was not exactly a word in Hikari's vocabulary that day, it wasn't because her and Takeru had fallen into silence. It wasn't even because he had used that L word so loosely, although that was certainly on her mind. She was only uncomfortable because she could hear her tennis shoes squishing and sloshing and squeaking so loudly that they echoed through the empty halls. She grinned despite herself. When your day by definition blows, you can either laugh or you can cry. It took a lot to make Hikari Yagami cry. She wasn't quite laughing though. She just remembered running down this hall when she was still in primary school, before Takeru had moved to Odaiba, because she had bet Daisuke she was a faster runner than he was. He hadn't believed her. She'd won, by the way. In case you were wondering.

The moments passed quickly with Takeru, enjoyable but peaceful in a way that her school day never was. Takeru always teased her and called her one of the "popular" kids, but she didn't like it. She didn't like that someone always expected her to have something to say, that she could never just sit at her desk and put her head down. She was always with people, people who talked and shouted and linked arms and tried talk her into doing things that even Taichi might not do on a dare. Takeru didn't do that. So when the moments passed quickly, it was both good and bad, happy and upsetting because she felt like they went by too quickly to cherish. She liked to cherish her time with her best friend.

"Here ya go," Takeru said, tossing a navy blue sweatshirt at Hikari. She caught it easily. "At least you'll be wearing one thing that's kinda dry." He sighed at the state of her jeans, but unless he miraculously had an entire outfit stashed in the depths of his locker, there wasn't anything to be done about it. And she thought she might draw the line at wearing his pants; he would have too much fun making "Hikari got in my pants yesterday" jokes just to irritate Daisuke. She didn't understand those two's friendship at all; half the time they were best of friends, and the rest of the time they were egging the other on to fight them. It made no sense to her.

"Thanks," she mumbled; she still wasn't pleased, convinced she was going to just end up with two wet sweatshirts to toss in the dryer when she got home, but she knew that rejecting it was out of the question. It wasn't just a matter of being rude; Takeru would force her out of her damp sweatshirt and into his dry one of she tried to resist. So she fought to get her soaked one off, and he took pity and helped when when she looked ready to just throw his on over it in surrender.

"It was really comin' down, huh," he asked with a chuckle as he helped her pull her arm out of the sleeve. She just grunted her reply. It was too obvious an answer.

But eventually, they got it off, and she shrugged into his warm sweatshirt only to find herself shivering more profusely than before. Now that she felt warmth, she realized just how cold she really was. He was frowning at her worriedly.

"Maybe Yamato's practice is over and he can..." he began to suggest, but she shook her head.

"Three blocks, and then the ride home isn't too bad," she insisted through chattering teeth. He didn't look convinced, but he sighed. He got her to take his sweatshirt; taking anything else just wouldn't be Hikari-like at all.

Takeru sighed again and grabbed his umbrella before he slammed the locker shut; it wasn't out of anger, but necessity. The lockers in the junior high took a beating and in dire need of replacing. "Alrighty. Let's hit the road, Jack," he said with a grin. The good mood was back, masking his irritation with her stubbornness. She knew it was there though. His eyes had been tight, if only for a minute, as he looked her over again. He worried too much.

So did she, he'd shoot back if she told him that. So she kept her mouth shut about it.

"Jack," she asked curiously as they headed downstairs towards the school's main entrance.

"So I listen to American music." He shrugged and grinned. "It was a good reference."

"...Of course it was." She smiled as he rolled his eyes in mock insult. He took her less-than-jovial moods in good grace, she had to give him that.

But the smile disappeared as they reached the doors, and just as she had suspected, it had gotten darker and drearier out, which meant that it was colder. And it was still wet. Hikari sighed and tightened her grip on the strap of her bag. She could have seriously done without the rain.

Takeru took one look outside and opened his umbrella; it was black. She supposed it was his mother's. Hikari couldn't remember him owning something black that wasn't a pen. Takeru just wasn't a "black" kinda person. He thought it was depressing. Hikari did too, but that was because Hikari had touched shadows. She had heard them speak, felt them calling to her. She didn't want to wear a color that was trademarked by shadows.

"Mimi says that's bad luck, you know," she said conversationally, nodding to the open umbrella. Takeru grinned at her.

"S'alright, I broke Mom's mirror this morning running out of the house. I'm all lucked out," he said, sounding oddly cheerful about the fact as he joined her so that the umbrella was over her head as well. "Ready?"

"As much as I'll ever be," she said with a dramatic sigh, and Takeru laughed before shouldering open the door. It took a bit of maneuvering for them to get through the doorway because Hikari was not quite as willing to do without the umbrella as she claimed, and Takeru was holding it. But they managed it somehow, and even Hikari was laughing by the time they squeezed their way through the door frame.

"There you go," Takeru teased, laughing also. "You need to loosen up more."

It had the opposite effect than what Hikari thought he was going for. The laughter died away, and he frowned.

"The rain always puts you in a bad mood," he mused out loud, and Hikari shrugged in reply.

"I like the sun." It wasn't such a weird thing, she thought. Lots of people didn't like the rain.

"So do I. But the rain is nice." Hikari quirked an eyebrow, and Takeru shrugged. "It's...I don't know, refreshing. I don't like it so much when it's cold," he conceded, sticking a hand out from under the umbrella and pulling it back under after a few droplets chilled his palm. "But I still like the rain."

"I don't know why. It's wet," Hikari argued, making a face. Takeru snickered.

"You're such a cat person."

"Good! Me and Tailmon will curl up with hot chocolate while you try coax Patamon into flying around in the rain with you," Hikari shot back, sticking her tongue out.

"We'll make a game out of it," Takeru agreed smugly. "Dodging rain drops."

"That's impossible," Hikari said, blinking at him. He grinned.

"That's what makes it fun."

She stifled a giggle. "You're so weird."

"Says the girl who hears voices in her head," he retorted. But his expression didn't match his words. He was glancing at her, making sure his comment didn't go too far. She wasn't sure it didn't, but she tried to ignore it. It had been a long time since anything like that had happened. The digital world wasn't crying for help anymore. The shadows weren't reaching for her hand. Everything was fine. Except the stupid rain.

"I heard the best artists hear voices," she replied calmly, and he looked uncertain, like he wanted to be relieved but wasn't sure he should be. But he let it go; after all, he didn't seem to know what else to do with it.

"Are you saying I'm not an artist," he asked, looking shocked. She giggled.

"May~be." Like I said, it was hard for her to stay in a very bad mood when she was walking with Takeru. Their spats might be childish, but they were only in good fun, and never meant to hurt or judge. They were only meant to make the other smile, and Hikari needed a good laugh. Mondays were never good days for anybody. Anybody normal, anyway, and she liked to think of herself as normal. It had been a long time since she had been "extraordinary", and she was happy with it that way. Center stage had never been the place where she wanted to be. She was content to cheer from the sidelines, like she always had for her brother.

"Have you ever tasted a rain drop," Takeru asked suddenly, a seemingly random question to follow their teasing banter. Hikari blinked, her mind reeling from the sudden change in direction.

"Um." was all she said.

"Like, caught one on your tongue?"

"I don't play in the rain," she said slowly, looking at him as though her best friend had most certainly lost his mind. His expression mirrored hers. "I've caught snow flakes," she said defensively.

"Then today will be a new experience," he said cheerfully, lowering the umbrella from over their heads. Hikari's eyes widened.

"Heyy!" She squeaked as a large rain drop plopped right between her eyes and made her squeeze them shut reflexively.

"C'mon, you won't melt."

"It's cold, Takeru," she insisted, shivering as another raindrop, and another, cascaded down on her.

"And wet. I know." He grinned. "The subway's right ahead. Like, a minute away. Less, if we run like hell." She didn't know why he was still smiling, but he was.

"Why are you my best friend again," she demanded to know, and he chuckled and tilted his head back, his face lifted to the sky as rain continued to gently plop against his skin. He looked serene, and kind of pretty – and Hikari did not use the word "pretty" to describe guys very often – standing like that. Then he kind of ruined the effect by sticking his tongue out to catch a raindrop, causing people passing by to pause before hurrying on; it was too cold and stormy for adults to care about the weird antics of a couple teenagers for very long.

He lowered his eyes back to Hikari. "Do it, go on," he insisted, and she frowned doubtfully before tilting her head back, if only so that they could keep moving again. His sweatshirt was going to be as soaked as the clothes tucked into her bag before long, standing around in this weather. "Open your mouth," he coached. But she shook her head. "You're such a killjoy," he accused, and she lowered her face again, shaking her wet hair out of her face.

"That's like drinking out of the hose," she insisted, making a face of disgust as she reached for the umbrella. He handed it to her; he wanted to walk in the rain, but he wasn't going to make her do the same. Besides, he really did seem concerned that she might get sick, although obviously the same concern or thought did not extend to his own well-being. She reached for his hand and yanked him underneath the shelter of the umbrella, ignoring his childish, pleading pout.

"We can run," he suggested. At first, she thought he meant to make her drop the umbrella again. But then she realized she was shivering again, teeth clenched against the cold. The activity would keep her warm, in theory anyway.

"We can run," she agreed, and with a challenging grin she added, "and I bet I can beat cha."

"Do I look like Daisuke," he demanded, sounding offended. Of course, she had wasted no time in telling him about beating Daisuke, one day when they were talking on the phone before he moved. She had told him about beating a boy in her class, and had been really proud of it. He had laughed when he realized the boy she had beaten was their own egotistical, obnoxiously loveable Daisuke. And by "loveable" she meant "tolerable because he was like a poorly trained puppy that wibbled on the carpet when he was excited", a comparison that had made Miyako choke with laughter when Hikari had voiced it serenely during a group get together during which Daisuke had been particularly obnoxious. He never lived it down.

"In the nose area," she replied teasingly. "If I squint my eyes a little, like this." And she demonstrated, and he narrowed his eyes challengingly. She giggled.

"It is so on, Yagami," he said with mock formality. And then they were running, umbrella trailing upside-down behind them as the wind flipped the top out while they ran, giggling like little kids despite the chill of the icy water that splashed in their eyes and made seeing difficult. As Takeru had said, at least the subway station wasn't very far away, and within moments it seemed they were running down the stairs to the sub-level, dripping wet and thoroughly entertained.

"I definitely won," Hikari insisted, breathing heavily. She was still in better shape than Takeru though, who didn't spend his entire childhood with an older sibling more interested in kicking a soccer ball around than watching television and playing video games (not that Taichi didn't do enough of that as well).

"Keep telling yourself that, Hikari," Takeru laughed.

"I did! Geez. You and Daisuke, can't even handle being beat by a girl," she teased, sticking her tongue out at him. Takeru returned the gesture before tackling the task of righting the umbrella, which both of them considered useless at this point. They had underestimated just how heavily it was raining, and as Hikari predicted, Takeru's sweatshirt was drenched. He took one look at it and frowned.

"And now you're all wet again," he said, shaking his head. "That was a dumb idea."

"Yeah, it was," Hikari agreed, and Takeru frowned at her. Obviously, her support was not entirely wanted this round. "But it was fun." She smiled at him. She didn't think he believed her though. He still looked at her doubtfully, one hand holding the folded up umbrella as it dripped alongside him and one hand readjusting his bag, which had fallen while they were running.

"Let's get you home before you come down with something and Tai kills me," he said with a small smile. It was back to that. She rolled her eyes, but she followed him to the ticket booth to pay for the fare home. They could still hear the rain, however faintly, pounding against the asphalt overhead before they got too close to the carts to hear anything more than each other's voices and their own thoughts when they fell into contented silence. But the sound of the rain didn't annoy her like it had all day, like it had every day that it had rained. Because now she had a memory, a mental snapshot of a blue eyed boy with hair like the sun letting the rain hit his face and wash away every worry and every concern and every fear that the brunette walking with him would reject his peaceful moment.