a/n: I'm not dead! I promise!

setting: 2002, post-02

07 || Clean

Takeru carefully slips off his shoes, looking around his brother's apartment with a frown. "…Nii-san?"

"Hmm?" comes Yamato's distracted reply.

"You can't have guests here."

This time, Yamato turns to look at Takeru with a baffled expression. "Why's that?"

Takeru looks down at his socks, suddenly a little timid. He isn't trying to be rude. It's just… "Your place is…kind of a mess."

It's true. The table is cluttered with unorganized piles of papers. The dishes are overflowing in the sink and need a good scrub. Laundry—clean or dirty, Takeru doesn't know—is scattered about the floor with no order whatsoever. Everything carries a thin layer of dust, and the floor desperately needs to be swept.

Takeru loves his brother more than anybody in the world, but Yamato doesn't exactly know how (or simply lacks the time) to keep things tidy. And he understands this; Yamato and their father are very busy people.

But in a few hours, their friends are supposed to be here. Takeru feels uncomfortable with the idea of all the people whom he admires—the Chosen he's known since the delicate age of seven, and the ones who joined their team recently—spending their evening in a dusty, messy apartment.

Not that they would say anything impolite. They're all decidedly civil people. Takeru can't imagine Sora or Jou saying, "Um, Yamato? Your house is gross."

Yamato rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, expelling a laugh that's tinged with shame. "I guess you're right. I haven't really had time to clean up."

Takeru's frown remains as he chews the inside of his cheek. They still have a lot of time… "I can help you clean, Nii-san."

Yamato actually looks guilty. "I'm not going to ask you to do that, Teek. It's not your mess."

This time, Takeru shoots him a bright smile. "I don't mind at all. Where should we start?"

(Besides, Takeru is the one who pointed it out in the first place. He's here. It would be rude not to help. And chores get done faster with two people!)

Yamato looks around with a grimace. "I have no idea where we should start."

Takeru pauses, thoughtful. There's an unpleasant smell in the air, and he's pretty sure the kitchen is the culprit. "Let's tackle the dishes first."

"That pile of dishes is scarier than the Dark Masters."

"To be fair," Takeru starts teasingly, his smile becoming mischievous, "you can't even handle watching a horror movie. So what is it, then, that does not scare you?"

"…hush."

Yamato has to admit that he is very impressed.

In the span of a few hours, Takeru has made his apartment almost unrecognizable. Together, they'd scrubbed, rinsed, dried, and placed all of the dishes in their respective cabinets. But it was Takeru who took it a step further—he swept the floor, dusted and polished the furniture, washed and folded laundry, and wiped down all the counter tops. He'd even spent an extra half hour tidying up the bathroom. Was his bedroom next?

Yamato knows that Takeru is a fairly neat person. A short visit to his apartment proves that. However, that does not mean he expected his brother to this immaculate. In the time it took Yamato to organize the cluster of mail and school assignments on the on the table, Takeru had very thoroughly cleaned the entire front room.

"You're a little bit of a neat freak, aren't you, buddy?" he says, not without affection.

Takeru pokes his head out of the bathroom, holding a half-folded towel, and smiles timidly. "I guess so. Mom works a lot, so when she gets home, she's too tired to clean up. So I do a lot of the cleaning." He chuckles, his smile expanding a fraction. "Since Patamon's in the digital world more than he is on Earth, I've got a lot of time on my hands. I've got to keep myself busy somehow. 'Idle hands are the devils playthings', or so they say."

He says the words lightly, quickly, like it's a joke; but there's this tinge of sadness in his voice, wedged so far underneath his laughter and smile that Yamato almost doesn't catch it. But he does. Harbored underneath that frivolous grin is very real loneliness and sorrow.

Yamato wonders how much time Takeru truly spends alone in his own apartment, and his brain creates answers that he does not like. It's not normal for an eleven-year-old kid to spend so much time by himself. The fact that he's hiding behind humor only deepens Yamato's concerns.

"You know," Yamato starts casually, "if you're ever bored, you can just call me. Sure, I've got my band, but you can come watch the rehearsals if you want."

Takeru looks briefly surprised. "Really?"

"Sure," he goes on. "Then when we get back, I can make supper and we can watch a movie or something."

Takeru's grin falters, but he corrects it almost instantly. His eyes glisten a little. "For real?"

"For real." Yamato shoots him a smile—a smile that's tinged with a certain fondness and warmth reserved only for his younger brother—and walks over to him so he can ruffle Takeru's hair. It's a gesture that tells Takeru that his words are sincere. "Just give me a call when you're bored, 'k?"

Give me a call when you feel lonely, is what he means, but he doesn't have to say it out loud. The shine in Takeru's eyes tells him he gets it.

His hand moves from Takeru's head to his face, patting his cheek affectionately. "They're gonna be here in about ten minutes. You think the place is ready now?"

Yamato silently deems it worthy, but he wants Takeru to have the final say. Takeru gazes around slowly, tracing every nook and cranny that he can see, and after a few thoughtful moments, he nods with satisfaction and says, "Sure."

"All right." Adds, "Thanks for helping me, Teek."

There are very few words in Yamato's internal dictionary saved for just Takeru, and 'thank you' is one of them. Takeru nods again, still smiling.

"It was fun," he says.

"What a strange kid you are," Yamato teases. "Thinking cleaning is fun."

Takeru rolls his eyes and turns back into the bathroom to put the towel where it belongs. With Takeru distracted, Yamato makes his way toward his bedroom and fetches his d-terminal. Pulls up a new draft, including every Chosen except his brother into the message.

Hey, he types. Takeru just spent the last three hours deep cleaning the place because he wanted it to look nice for you guys. Make sure to compliment him. He worked very hard and deserves some recognition. But don't tell him I told you.

Yamato.

He hits send, and barely a minute later he receives a reply. Taichi says, You sound like a proud mom praising her kid, lol.

Yamato frowns and rolls his eyes. Hush.

That's Yamato language for 'I'm embarrassed', Miyako says.

"Nii-san?" Takeru is standing at the threshold. "Hikari just told me she's—hey, Nii-san, are you all right? You're a little red."

Yamato clears his throat and slams his d-terminal shut. "I'm fine. What did Hikari tell you?"

"She just said she and Taichi are almost here," he answers, tilting his head to the side inquisitively. But Yamato pays little attention to his curiosity.

Less than ten minutes later, Hikari and Taichi are walking in the door. Sora is next, and she looks genuinely surprised as she glances around. After all, Yamato's sure the last time she was here—less than a week ago—it was...decidedly filthy.

She says, "Wow, Takeru, did you do this? It looks great, hun."

Takeru's face turns a soft shade of pink, but he looks pleased, which makes Yamato smile ever so slightly. "Thanks. Nii-san cleaned up, too."

"Yamato? Clean?" Taichi says with a playful smirk. "You must be mistaken, Takeru. That never happens."

Yamato's smile is gone in an instant. He gets up, asks Sora if she'd like a glass of water, and when she nods her head yes, he makes his way to the kitchen and accidentally bumps into Taichi.

"Oops," he murmurs flatly when Taichi staggers backwards and expels and indignant cry.

"It does look very tidy," Hikari says around a giggle. "You did a good job."

Takeru's beaming. "Thanks, Hika."

The rest of the Chosen arrive minutes apart, and each one of them make a point to notice Takeru's handiwork. Takeru grins shyly with that same glisten in his eyes that tells everyone he appreciates their praise.

Once again, a smug look paints Yamato's face. He doesn't admit it out loud, but seeing Takeru's face light up is the best sight in the world. It's like a sunbeam shining through storm clouds. He illuminates the whole apartment with that grin of his.

Next to him, Mimi whispers, "His smile is infectious, isn't it?"

Yamato nods. "More than he knows."