Summary: [AU] Walking away from someone you love isn't as hard as people make it out to be; what's truly hard is watching that person parade around their new and improved partners. Just ask Ishida Yamato.

Disclaimer: I do not own Digimon, Free!, Ouran High School Host Club, Mahōka Kōkō no Rettōsei, Haikyuu! or Code Geass. They (and all their characters) belong to their creators and I am only borrowing them for the sake of entertaining you.

They had been going at it for hours, if the Takeru's words were to be taken at heart.

Taichi sits down on the bench, wiping the sweat off his brow on a towel Sora offers without looking at him. He follows their gaze into the distance and his mouth curls downwards, worried. They stand far enough that they cannot hear what they are saying but her expression is impossible to miss, cheeks flushed dark red. He, on the other hand, alreadmpsy looks livid. Whatever they're saying cannot be good; she stomps her foot loudly against the floor and he raises his arms in an unmistakeable way, giving up. Tossing her long honey tresses over her shoulder, Tachikawa Mimi storms away from him and out of their sight.

He hears himself sigh, crossing his arms and offering Yamato a questioning look as he approaches them slowly. He massages his temple, eyes half closed, still very much on the verge of imploding. Wordlessly, his brother offers him a water bottle that he takes in silence, drinking for a long time.

"Are you okay?" Sora asks after a moment.

"Yeah," he says, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

Taichi, unable to stop himself from being the good friend he is, stands and claps his back good-naturedly.

"It'll be fine," he assures him, "just give her a day or two. You guys will be all over each other in no time."

Takeru snickers and even Sora smiles a bit. But Yamato only gives him the tiniest of frowns before his face melts once again into no expression at all.

"Not this time," he says, and it seems to him he's choosing his words very carefully. "It's over."

Taichi closes his mouth, unsure of what to say to that. Sora frowns and Takeru lets out a small, strangled laugh. Yamato takes a look around, breathes in deeply and narrows his eyes at them, exasperated.

"What's wrong with you?"

"What do you mean what's wrong with us?" Sora asks, almost laughing. "Are you okay, Yamato?"

"I just said I was."

Taichi hitches his chin at him, considering him carefully. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"We broke up," Yamato shrugs. "There's nothing else to say."

"Must've been a hell of a fight," Takeru says, already

Yamato only shrugs, tossing the water bottle and catching it in his right hand, peering curiously at the plastic. Takeru notices his grip is just a little too hard and decides not to comment on it, just in case he decides to test his deathgrip on something fleshier.

"It's not really important," he turns his back on them, hesitates and turns back around. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

Without another word, he begins to walk away, drains the last of his bottle before tossing it with uncanny accuracy into the nearest bin. Later, Takeru would swear he saw smoke coming out of it.

"Yamato?" Sora calls out, but he cuts her off.

"Just leave it, Sora."

His words effectively chastise her and she exchanges a dark look with Taichi. The bite in his voice is considerable but not surprising — Mimi has a way of turning Yamato completely around and it both terrifies and impresses him; anyone with such power is certainly a force to be reckoned.

"Let me know if he comes around," Sora says, heaving her bag over her shoulder. "I'll talk to Mimi."

Taichi grunts noncommittaly and Takeru slips his hands inside his pockets, uncharacteristically quiet. They have to practically run to catch up with him, falling into a silent step on either side of him. Yamato and Taichi been friends for as long as he could remember and they'd been a couple long enough that Taichi could barely remember Yamato being a flustered mess around her during middle school and somehow finding it in himself to sort his shit out before they finished high school. Now, with almost three years into their relationship, he thought they were over the petty bickering but somehow, it had gotten worse the past few weeks.

"Yamato..."

"I swear to God, Taichi, I will break your nose if you finish that sentence."

"Fine," Taichi exhales, finishing on a nervous chuckle. "I had forgotten how much of a lunatic you really are."

Yamato huffs, using what little restraint he has to stuff his hands deep inside his pockets instead of wringing Taichi's neck.

"I'm going for a walk," he turns towards them both, narrowing his eyes dangerously. "Please leave me alone."

"Hey!" Takeru complains, "You're supposed to make dinner tonight!"

"Come on," Taichi intervenes, grinning. "I'll take you to dinner."

The younger man looks like on the verge of complaining but one look at his older brother silences him. "Fine," he says, "but it's your treat."

.

It doesn't take Sora long to find Mimi, cursing colourfully, hands frantic inside her bag.

"Mimi?"

"What?" Mimi looks up and there's a wild look in her eyes, gone as soon as she focuses on her. "Oh, Sora. I don't know what's gotten into me, so sorry about that."

"Mimi, are you okay?"

"I can't find my keys," she mutters exasperatedly. "Please don't tell me I left them with — no, here you are, you little piece of sh—," she stops, raising an eyebrow at Sora's expression. "Sorry!"

"That's fine," Sora shakes her head, palms raised. "Do you want to tell me what just happened?"

"I'm running late to my hair appointment," Mimi explains, as if it's the most obvious thing. "I'm going to lose my spot if I'm not there in fifteen minutes."

"What are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I thought you were upset about Yamato," Sora continues, unwilling to let her friend confuse her way out of the conversation. It never fails to surprise her how Mimi can tongue-tie her way out of anything she doesn't want to talk about, but Sora knows how to get answers when she wants them, too. Mimi's face falls for a only a second, then she readjusts her bag and lets out an exasperated huff, running her hand through her hair.

"Why would I —,"

"Don't even try, you were in plain sight."

Mimi then laughs, tossing her hair back. "Then I don't know what you want me to tell you. We broke up, he's an idiot, I'm fine. What else do you need to know?"

"It can't be that simple—,"

"Yes, it can be," Mimi interrupts. "We're over and that's that."

She turns around and climbs in her car without another word and only hesitates a moment before lowering the window to look at Sora from behind a pair of large, dark sunglasses.

"Do you want me to take you somewhere?"

Sora shakes her head. "No, that's alright. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I'll call you later," Mimi calls out, waving before driving away with just a little too much haste. Sora watches her until she disappears, a hand touching her cheek as she wonders just what exactly happened. It takes her all but a minute to decide what to do next, dialing Miyako's number as she walks towards the closest station.

"Hi. Yes, are you free tonight? Oh. Is there any chance you could reschedule? You can call Hikari and we can meet at Mimi's later. No! No don't tell her. It's ... a surprise of sorts. I'll text you the details, yeah? Great, see you there."

.

She arrives later that night, surprised to find the lights are mostly off. Placing the spare key she had gotten after the second or third time Mimi had locked herself out in as many weeks, back in her purse, she moves with familiar ease to turn on all the lights. Her family has always been very well-off, as evidenced by the home in which Mimi grew up, but her current apartment is considerably smaller. Refusing to allow their daughter to live a miser's life, Keisuke and Satoe agreed to let her live on her own on the condition that they could pay for her rent, insisting that she focuses on her studies and returns home to visit every other week. The apartment is much more spacious than a full-time student her age would be able to afford, a two-bedroom apartment with a full kitchen and living room that makes her place perfect for get-togethers and movie nights.

"Mimi?" Sora calls out, "I'm home!"

"Sora?" her voice is muffled, softer through the door.

"Yeah, it's me," Sora calls out. "Where are you?"

"Taking a bath! Be right out!"

It takes her fifteen more minutes to leave the bath and another fifteen to get dressed and dried, by which time Sora has finished sorting out her kitchen fridge and doing the dishes that she found on the dishwasher. She dries her hands on a bright yellow towel when Mimi finally reappears, clad in comfortable sleepwear and running her thin fingers through freshly blown hair.

"I wasn't expecting you," she lets out bluntly, making Sora work to hide her wince.

"I told you we'd come over, remember?"

"You did?" she asks, suspicious. "I really don't remember."

"Just before you left," Sora murmurs, finding her gaze and raising her eyebrow at her recently washed hair. "You know, for your hair appointment."

Mimi jumps slightly and then tosses her hair back carelessly. "Right! I had a bit of an accident, ran into someone, juice was involved ... you can imagine my disappointment. A perfect waste of an afternoon."

"Tragic," Sora comments dryly as the doorbell rings. "That's probably Miyako or Hikari."

"We brought food," Miyako announces as soon as the door opens. "You look great!"

"Thank you," Mimi says, suspicious. "What's going on?"

"We're just so excited to see you," Hikari says, pushing her short brown hair behind her ear. "You really do look good, Mimi."

"Oh, come in already," Mimi sighs. "That ice-cream is going to melt."

There are specific signs Sora is looking out for; Mimi sniffling, sneaking out to cry on her own, texting surreptitiously while they're occupied watching a ridiculous romantic comedy and stuffing their faces with ice cream and treats. Instead of that, she finds Mimi completely engaged, if a little quiet, stretching comfortably like she hasn't got a care in the world.

"I suppose you already know," she finally says, scooping more ice cream than should be possible inside her mouth. Watching her struggle and whine, Sora makes a face while Miyako fetches a glass of water for her.

Hikari, always more sensible and less inclined to yell, smiles softly. "We just wanted to make sure you're okay, Mimi."

"I'm fhi-ine," she mouths, "Fhu- it's fhucking cold."

"Maybe if you swallow first…"

It'a nor Miyako's best idea. Mimi slaps a hand to her forehead, trying to remember what she had read about stopping a brain freeze. What was it – pressing her tongue to the roof of her mouth or – or biting down her tongue or – something. She bites down on her tongue and yelps, pouting as her eyes begin to water.

"Finally!" Sora's gaze softens. "Now you can cry and we can talk about it."

Holding her tongue between two fingers, Mimi turns to her with watery, indignant eyes. "I only bit mah tongue," she manages, "don't get any funny ideas."

"Why are you're being so difficult?" Miyako asks, exasperatedly scooping ice cream into her mouth.

"Because I don't want to talk about it!" Mimi finally exclaims, slamming her bowl on the coffee table with more force than even she expects. She's embarrassed by their attention and now by their silence and she raises a hand to stop Miyako before she says anything again.

"I appreciate that you worry about me," she begins slowly. "We had an argument and said things – things we can't take back. And yes, I'm sad, I guess, but I'm not going to spontaneously burst into tears," she pauses, stubbornly wiping her wet eyes with the back of her hand. "If Yamato doesn't care about having me in his life, then I certainly don't either."

"That's not–," Sora begins, but Mimi laughs even though no one else is laughing.

"It's not true?" her voice is much calmer and she nestles back into the cushions with a shrug. "It is. I've made my peace with it and so should you. You're all welcome to stay and I really do appreciate this, but I'm not talking about this anymore."

.

"Ishida."

He waits but unsurprisingly receives no answer.

"Ishida."

He's got half a mind to break in, just to spite him, but calls out to him instead. "You and I both know I can do this all day, and I don't think your neighbours are going to be happy about it."

"Taichi, maybe we should go," Koushiro looks around, apologetic despite the fact that there's no-one in the hallways with them.

"Don't give up so soon, Koushiro. He has to come out eventually. Ishida, your brother says you've been moping all week, so we're not leaving until–," the door opens suddenly, revealing a very disgruntled Yamato, glaring daggers at them both. Taichi remains unfazed, grinning wildly.

"What do you want?"

"Just hang out," Taichi says, sidestepping him easily and hugging his bags to his chest. Offering him an apologetic look, Koushiro follows him inside, avoiding Yamato's gaze at all costs. Yamato scowls, closes the door and follows them into his own living room, where Taichi has already laid out a couple of beers.

Grinning wildly, Taichi opens his. "It's supposed to be therapeutic."

Thoroughly put-upon, Yamato takes one silently, bringing it to his lips as he lowers himself on the couch. He stretches his legs over the coffee table and looks up at Taichi dead in the eye.

"Nothing about you can be therapeutic," he finally says, looking over at Koushiro. "He does know that, right?"

Taichi magnanimously ignores him, settling directly across him on the couch and looking at him levelly. Koushiro decides at that moment that there's something terribly interesting in the ceiling and despite his position directly in the middle of them both, purposefully ignores them.

"You're in denial," Taichi finally says.

"I am not," Yamato replied, taking a sip of beer without even making a face.

"You just did it again!"

"Actually, he's just denying your statement," Koushiro finally says, eyes slipping towards them warily. Yamato tips his beer towards him before raising it to his lips but Taichi only fixes him with a cold, unimpressed stare.

"Remind me again why I brought you."

"I've been wondering the same thing," the redhead quips irritably, busying himself with his own beverage and sinking deep into his seat.

Yamato crosses his arms over his chest, half-amused, half-irritated as he looks at Taichi, who keeps trying to stare him down as if that has ever worked on him. Calmly, he takes another long drink.

"I wish you were more forthcoming with this," he finally admits, taking a small drink. Yamato's smirk softens into a small smile, and finally into nothing at all.

"I don't have anything to say."

"It's been two weeks," Taichi reminds him, softer than he intended. "And you still haven't said a word about it. Sora's getting upset."

At the mention of his former crush and current best friend, Yamato's face falters for a second and he does feel some remorse.

"There's nothing to say, really. We decided to break up, that's all there is to it."

"You're citing irreconcilable differences as your cause for separation?" Koushiro raises an eyebrow.

Yamato sighs, grimacing. "I'm saying it's over, it doesn't matter why."

"Mimi's being just as unhelpful. I hate you both," Taichi complains, nodding his head towards Koushiro, whose ears are suddenly pink.

Koushiro, embarrassed once again to be caught in the middle of what he considers an unfair situation at the very least, takes another swig of his now lukewarm beer.

"She claims she has nothing left to say about – about you."

If it bothers him, Yamato does a remarkable job of hiding it. He lets his shoulder rise and fall carelessly, pursing his lips around the opening of his bottle and taking a quick but generous drink.

"I don't expect she would."

"Because…" Taichi goades him on.

"Because," Yamato says, and this time he does sound murderous. "I don't expect you to understand, Taichi, but I hope you can respect my decision to stay out of it."

"Out of what?"

"Out of her life."