Author's Note: I should warn you about the silly metaphors but, I like to think it's very IC. You can't tell, but I've been working on this one for weeks.

[05/31/16]

You're in love with someone else.

It wasn't the kind of thing one announced so casually, over dinner; Jyou had warned him as much. There had been little clapping, a lot of confusion, a few stupid questions and indignant remarks, courtesy of the eldest Yagami and youngest Motomiya. Sora had hugged him, then kissed him in the mouth and wished him luck but he had caught her sobbing quietly into Jyou's chest not ten minutes later. Koushiro had been excited; Iori had been downright impressed. Miyako, confused, had turned to Ken, "He's joking, right?", but Ken only shook his hand, wished him well. He knew Ken, at least, meant it.

He had figured the party would end sooner, but it had continued well into the night, and he had found them more compliant, laughing harder, holding him longer. It was partly the liquor, he knew, but it was also them, and how much they all loved him. His parents had reacted similarly, when they heard. In a stark difference from when he was six and decided he wanted to be an astronaut, no-one laughed. His father never got to finish that one cigarette, crushed on the floor as he wondered, "Blimey, I never..." His mother had cried then, and he had held her like she failed to hold him when he was a child and it felt as though both of them redeemed something that night.

But she had slipped out quietly before he could gauge a reaction, before anyone could stop her. He had ached to follow her, then, but Taichi beat him to it and he had to steel himself to stay inside, his back turned towards the open balcony doors for as long as he dared. When Taichi came back, brow deeply furrowed and fingers stretched towards the nearest cooler, Yamato had to feign disinterest, bring the can to his lips for fear of asking, "So?".

"If I go back out there, I can't guarantee I'm coming back in," he said after one agonizingly long drink. "She's being impossible."

Yamato sighed, holding two beers in his hand.

"Yeah, I'd drink more if I were you," Taichi said dubiously, but Yamato only smiled.

"It's a peace offering," he clarified, turning his back to him and wishing, for a moment, that he hadn't.

A pleasant breeze cooled the summer night, and Yamato was rewarded with the sight of her sitting out near the building's fire escape, legs dangling perilously off the ledge. Her shoes were off and her toes were painted a bright bubblegum pink.

"Nice shoes," he said, hoping to make her smile instead of squaring her shoulders at him.

"Yeah," she murmured, frowning. "I really like them."

He sat down next to her, offering a beer and trying not to make anything of the way she tensed when their shoulders touched.

He gazed out at the city lights and they remained that way until the silence became too unbearable for him.

"You haven't said anything," he eyed her carefully. "You just left."

Inside, he had to smother the tiny bit of traitorous hope that sprang to life. The reproaching look she gave him was almost enough to make him feel sorry he even said it but at this point ... anything was game.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked, suddenly serious. "You're leaving."

"You can say anything. Say ... you'll miss me."

"Aren't you scared?" She turned her pretty face away from him and upwards, towards the sky. It was too dark to see her, but he thought she may have been crying. "Doesn't it make you sad?"A pause. "Aren't you going to miss me?"

The way she asked made his heart hurt and he almost said it, then.

"It's different for me," he finally said, and Mimi wanted to hit him, hard. In his pretty face, his taut stomach, his perfect jaw. But he didn't relent, instead, took another long swig and swallowed quietly. "You know that."

When he turned to her she was chewing on her glossy bottom lip, bottle clutched tightly beneath pale fingers.

"I didn't want to lose them, you know," she said, very quietly. "That's why I took them off."

"Ahhh..." he said, the tiniest hint of a bitter smile touching his lips. "That was clever of you."

"It wasn't, really." Mimi blushed, casting her eyes downwards.

A loud noise coming from inside made them both snap back to attention. In the half-light they could make out someone standing on a table, singing greeted by a roar of laughter and cheers.

"Is that Taichi?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny that."

"Yama."

"He was upset before, you know," he sighed. "When you came out here."

"He knows how I feel about you," she brought her feet up, hugging her knees. "Of course, he hates it."

Yamato took a deep breath before finishing off the rest of his beer, trying not to gloat, finding a way to stifle that persistent hope once more. That was gone, and one conversation wouldn't change it.

"He shouldn't," he finally said, matter-of-factly. "You're in love with him."

Instead of denying it, she simply crawled over to him, slipping her feet inside her dainty shoes once more. She took the bottle from his hand, placed it next to her own, both now empty. She took his face in her hands, looked him straight in the eye and kissed him, hard. And he couldn't help the way his mouth curved around hers, couldn't help reaching out with his hand to pull her closer from the back of her neck, couldn't help wanting to steal her away from Taichi, right then. And when she stopped, and kissed his cheek and he realised she was crying, he couldn't help but loving her too, more, always.

"I'll miss you," she said, tapping his cheek affectionately. "Let's lie down for a bit and make Taichi mad, yeah?"

He was laughing before he knew it, lying down on the cold concrete, looking up at the stars. Mimi pointed at constellations, drew fake horoscopes, warned him of leaving the house on a waxing moon when Venus was in Aquarius and he only laughed harder, trying to suffocate the ache in his heart that told him she was the only celestial body he needed and that, were it not for Taichi, it would've been him.

Should've been him.

"Mimi?"

"Yes?"

Fingers brushing against hers, he squeezed.

"I'll miss you, too."