Hey all. Yeah, I know, it's been a while. How long has it been, like, almost two years? A year and a half? I apologize to all my readers who'd like to see this thing wrapped up. I'd like to finish it soon too. I've been really busy, though, ever since I entered college. Lab classes are absolutely murdering me, and I had a job last summer and had to take a course back at school, just so I could graduate on time with my major and minor.

So...yay for update? XD Seriously, I look back at this story, and I'm just like "...uwah, what was I on when I wrote this?" Especially with the first few chapters. Then again, I keep in mind that this was just an outlet for relaxation and a "break" from IB in high school. I'm not much of a writer X3 But I shall finish this fic.

Heh...I wrote this chapter...a year ago? Just got back to it and fixed a few things today. Sorry for any mistakes; I have a beta, but I wanted to post something now that I can, so I couldn't get in contact with her right away XD;;;

Disclaimer: I dun own Digimon, but if I did, there would be more Taichi/Koushiro-ness, Tentomon would probably have a thing for Gomamon, and there would be an episode of Death Note cosplay.

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The constant humming of traffic rushing past below his three-story window was a common noise at this time of day. That was why it was dubbed "rush-hour", wasn't it? The beeps of desperate people riddled with utmost impatience consumed the air, somehow spilling into the lit bedroom. It had awakened Yumi from her afternoon nap a half hour before.

The auburn-haired little girl was now sitting pristinely on her teenage caretaker's bed, mouthing a filled bottle of milk. Curiosity was written across her face as she stared intently at the computer genius struggling to type coherent phrases on his trusted Pineapple laptop.

Koushiro still had doubt clouding his head, doubt concerning what exactly his actions in the next few hours were going to be. Very rarely did he ever ask for assistance or a second opinion on any type of matter, but never before had something left him so utterly puzzled. The boy possessed no discernible idea where to start.

He sought advice from the only source he knew would remain confidential; the Internet, or more precisely, friends from the Internet. After all, it's not as if any of the people he communicated with using Instant Messenger or e-mail live nearby enough to jeopardize his desire for secrecy. They were spread out around the world; he would simply talk to someone halfway around the globe. However, he still requested from his chosen confidants their promise not to discuss his predicament to anyone else. One can never be sure; he had to take utmost precautions.

Conversing with a teenage girl in America (since he had to have his English skills in check, as well) he explained to her the situation from his eyes and how to fit in the certain variable into the whole complicated equation.

And after she shared her opinion of what his course of action should be, he asked others the same tantalizing question only to be given the same advice time after time. It was odd how half of each conversation the redhead engaged consisted of typed-out squeals and squeaks over the situation on the other's behalf. However, with that, the teenager constructed his plan and folded the laptop shut after bidding farewell to his final friend.

Koushiro swiveled his chair towards the baby girl in the corner of his eye, black orbs drifting past the small digital clock propped beside his bed, bright blue number forming the time 5:30. Yumi popped the piece of rubber topping the bottle out of her mouth, now slick with saliva.

"You need to get ready, don't you," the digidestined of knowledge smiled fully at his project. Their project. He rested his hands on his pajama-clad thighs, peering straight into the big brown eyes of the little girl. Yumi caught his own black spheres, her mouth curving upward in a flash into a high, gleeful laugh after hearing the tiny lilt in his voice. Tossing the plastic bottle aside onto the unmade bed, she raised her arms upward as her fingers grasped around as invisible pillow, signaling for her temporary parent to take her in his arms.

With a light chuckle, Koushiro scooped her up, cradling her with utmost care as he nuzzled her cheek with the tip of his nose. It was nearing the end of the final Saturday of this unusual assignment, and the boy felt a dull pain throbbing in his chest from having to say good-bye to Yumi in mere hours. It was with the baby girl that he has experienced such an array of emotions in such a small amount of time. So many moments of laughter, sadness and confusion and now he had to hand her over to his teacher in the basket in which she came to receive a grade. Just a meaningless number written in red ink on a piece of paper…

"Stop thinking of that," the redhead mumbled to himself, shaking his head slightly to either side as he squeezed his eyes shut. There were only a few seconds of silence except for the nearly inaudible puffs of air resonating form the little girl as her chest minutely rose and fell before he held her up at arm's length above his head and grinned. "I'm going to have to dress you up now, aren't I?"

He looked down at his own body, finally noticing that he still wore his sleeping attire, consisting of an over-sized white T-shirt and a worn pair of green flannel pants. His fiery red hair stuck up in obtuse angles all around his head form not having seen a hairbrush in the past twenty-four hours. "I probably need a nicer change of clothes, as well," the student exclaimed, eyeing the light grey tinge the shirt has acquired from years of use. Though having worn it for so many years, Koushiro somehow managed to swim around in it even to this day, He had grown a number of inches taller, nearly rivaling his father's height, but he remained slight of built.

Lowering the little girl to his level, he giggled as he bounced her lightly within the firm grip of his hands, Yumi reaching for the large folds of the T-shirt, tiny palms outstretched.

A sort of muted murmured growl sounded in the enclosed bedroom, both the adolescent and the baby suddenly freezing in place. Koushiro raised his eyebrows, dark orbs centering on his midsection, the noise rumbling once more. With a sheepish grin, he looked into the curious eyes, waiting for an answer.

"And I need sustenance, as well," the boy squeaked in surprise. "Can't deprive myself of that forever." Yumi replied with a mirthful titter, an abrupt burp following her laughs.

The digidestined turned the knob to the door, disintegrating the solitude from his family, opening said door for the first time in half a day. Stepping outside, baby cradled comfortably in one arm, Koushiro immediately heard familiar voices, as well as others partly overtaken by static. The radio in the kitchen was on. Something about a chance of stormy weather coming in during the next few days. The clear voices from the direction of the living room exchanged muffled words, half-engulfed by the report of the weather forecast.

They sharply ceased as the creaking of the door vibrated throughout the entirety of the small household. The redhead strode to the main room, the corners of his mouth turning upward at the sudden call of his name. His mother's voice.

His parents were sitting side-by-side on the single couch placed in front of the unanimated television screen when he set a bare foot into the space, the distraught woman twisted around to face her teenage son with hoping eyes.

"Anything I might be able to have for lunch, Mom?" he said a mirthful tone, baby beaming in the crook of his arm. "I just finished all my research and I'm a bit hungry." Rubbing his stomach with his free palm, he simpered slowly.

At seeing the soft smile gracing her son's once stoic face, the auburn-haired woman couldn't halt herself from wrapping her arms around the boy's lithe body in a tender embrace. The baby was not at all opposed to being pressed in between two warm bodies.

"Anything you want," she replied with a quick squeeze before sliding her gentle hands to his shoulders, peering her eyes into the subdued onyx of the teenager's orbs. "You okay now? You had me so worried!"

Koushiro continued holding the baby girl flush to his steady chest, nodding his head in reassurance. "I'm fine," he responded in a bright tone. "Just exhausted from a long week of school." A pause. "Had quite a bit on my mind, too." The last words were spoken much softer than the rest.

The older woman darted her eyes for a fraction of a second to her husband standing beside her, the digidestined's father acknowledging the minute eye contact with an encouraging curl of the lips. The gaze piercing her son's eyes sharpened as she spoke to the redheaded boy once more. "Anything you need to talk about?"

Hesitance seemed to swallow the tense moments whole before quietly adding one more thought. "We're always here if you need to talk about whatever's on your mind."

A tiny lump rose to his throat as the teenager looked into his mother's anxious gaze, knowing full that this was something he could not disclose to his parents. Not quite yet. And he could not help but wonder….when would be a good time?

When could he possibly tell his parents about this entire predicament? His feelings? His thoughts? His realizations? About himself? About this boy?

Taichi?

Squeezing his eyes shut, Koushiro swallowed the small lump, a warm smile disguising the worry that swelled inside of him that very second. 'Worry about that later…think about the present.' "Nothing at the moment, Mom," he shook his head in reassurance. "But thanks."

The older woman stared into the opaque orbs of her adolescent son, trying to decipher their meaning, hoping to understand what was going on with her only child. And all she could see was….uncertainty…..but a firm confidence. He had a decision made. He will know what to do with whatever crossed his path. Koushiro will ask for advice when he feels he will need it. And with that his mother chose not to probe any further.

"Well, c'mon then, let's put Yumi in her high-chair, so that we can all get something to eat." She ran a hand through her son's dark red locks, a warmth overwhelming her chest when she saw a full smile grace his lips.

It wasn't often that the young academic's mother witnessed her child being…so sure of himself. Completely.

He knows what to do.

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Okies, that's what I have so far. Sorry for the lack of...cuddling. Or something. Um yeah, I have a rough draft for the next few chapters, so yays. Review if you want? XD