Kyoudai 01

Aaah! I'm writing a multi-part fic! For shame! Especially because I haven't finished my first one...ah, well, it's a good fic. ^_^

This takes place four years after the 02 season starts. At some point in these four years, the digimon went back to their own world and the digital world's problems were solved until the next batch of poor suckers become digidestined. ^_^;;

Age-wise, here you go:

Iori - 13, seventh grade
Takeru, Hikari, Daisuke - 15, ninth grade
Miyako, Ken - 16, tenth grade
Koushirou, Mimi - 17, eleventh grade
Taichi, Sora, Yamato - 18, twelfth grade
Jyou - 19, first year of college

For the sake of being able to incorporate all characters easily, Iori, Takeru, Hikari, and Daisuke all go to Odaiba Junior High (yes, with the GREEN outfits) and Miyako, Ken, Koushirou, Mimi (who's back in Japan), Taichi, Sora, and Yamato all go to Odaiba High School. Jyou still lives at home and goes to college. ^_^

This is mostly an Iori fic, because Iori doesn't get enough fics. And 'cause he's cute. And because he's disturbingly easy for me to write in Teenage Angst mode, while it's so hard to write him in character...-_-;; The rest of the characters will show up, I promise! It's haaaaard to juggle twelve characters! No wonder why a lot of people try to kill off everyone in fics..^_^;;

This is not a romance. It's not a romance, although there is elements of romance in it. It's an Ioriance, which is completely different.

Yes, I know that technically Jyou's crest is the crest of Sincerity. I dislike that translation. I prefer it to be the crest of Faithfulness, 'cause that's a translation of seijitsu, and it describes Jyou well and Iori better. ^_^

I don't own Digimon. If I owned some of the characters, I would be a happy camper. But I don't. And I'm not. So, um, foo. ^_^;; Thank you, Mimi-sempai, Tracie-oneechan, and Kay-chan, for beta-ing and being awesome people and letting me forget about my bedtime. ^_^

Kyoudai 01
by Rb

After I walked into my apartment, I remembered it was the sixth month anniversary, and I was ashamed for not remembering earlier.

I don't have a photogenic memory, not exactly. I remember lots of stuff; passages from books I read, what my teacher says from three years ago, the type of mundane, ordinary things that everyone remembers. Then I have memories of horror that go back so many years, that they've twisted into part of me. I remember the look in my father's eyes when I saw him for the last time. I remember every bit of self-doubt and loathing I've ever felt.

But I still felt ashamed for going to school, taking tests, watching _her_ furtively, and walking home with Takeru-san laughing about something that I can't even remember now.

The only reason I realized today was the anniversary was that I opened the apartment door and was stuck by a feeling of emptiness. The apartment was so quiet...My mom's a journalist and she's often at home, so the emptiness really isn't noticeable, normally.

Today it was there, a musty scent that invaded all corners of the apartment. I went to the refrigerator: it was Mom's and my way of communicating when either of us went out.

I read the note out loud, unsettled by the quiet of the apartment. "Iori, I'm going to work late tonight, I won't be back until about ten. Do your homework and please do a load of laundry afterwards. There's some food in the frigerator and some money on your desk if you want to order out. Love ya!"

Doesn't she realize what today is? Or had she, like myself, forgotten?

I walked into my room and set my bookbag on my bed, anyway. Faithful, reliable me. I'll always do what others ask. I looked around my neat and orderly room, making sure nothing was out of place, before sitting down at my desk and doing homework. Math. Too easy. I've learned to fudge, however, to be less than perfect in many things. There's no use to be picked on without reason -- even though I've grown a lot, I'm still rather slim and lanky. I can't always depend on having 'Takaishi-san' and 'Motomiya-san' appear to fend off would-be bullies.

After finishing off the load of laundry and eating whatever was in the fridge -- I didn't inspect it carefully -- I trudged into my grandfather's unoccupied room and laid down on the bed he hadn't slept in for months.

Only then did I cry, in memory of the dead.

---

She came back late that night. I was sitting on top of my own neatly-made covers, reading a book. She smelt of perfume and wine.

"Hey, Iori," she said, sitting down next to me. "Have a good day at school?"

"Mm," I said.

"That book interesting?" she asked, peering at the cover. I held it up. "Anyway, Iori, on Friday night I'm inviting a friend over."

"What type of friend?" I questioned, my attention arrested. She hadn't brought home any male friends recently, normally it was only inviting a female friend from work or Miyako (when she wasn't busy) and her parents -- quite rarely a potential lover/husband/father.

"A male friend. Hush, you," she said at the look on my face. "He's a nice guy, he's got a son in the high school and another one close to your age, I believe."

When I showed no reaction, she continued, "and they're both coming over for dinner on Friday night, too."

I raised an eyebrow. Normally, kids don't come to dinner unless it _is_ serious. It might not be so bad, though. The last time a kid came over with his father -- about a year ago -- he was five, and ended up throwing food at the walls, cursed off my grandfather, and insisted on watching the most idiotic cartoons I've ever seen. That affair ended quickly.

"I'm sure his children are potty-trained," she said, grinning. Oh, I'd forgotten about that part. "Well, be good, all right?"

"May I invite a friend for dinner that night?" I asked.

"I don't see why not," my mother considered. "Good night, Iori." She walked to her own room.

I looked at my clock. It wasn't that late. I dialed Miyako's number.

"Moshi moshi, Inoue residence," said Miyako's familiar voice.

"Miayko-san, it's Iori."

"Iori!" she said after a pause. "Haven't seen you for a while. What's up?"

"I just wanted to know, do you want to come over for dinner on Friday night?"

Once upon a time, only a few months ago, Miyako would have said "Dinner? At your place? All right! Make sure your mom makes my favorites!" -- which, in Miyako's case, changed nearly every week. And she would have waited at school for me on Friday afternoon, and she would have walked home with me for certain, and gone to my apartment with me, and talked with my grandfather, and fixed my computer, and had dinner with my family and me, and stayed late into the night -- so late her parents would have been worried about her if not for the fact that we lived in the same apartment building. We would have made plans, maybe to go to the park or to the mall and a movie, or just to be together, because we were friends. She would have told me secrets, and I would have listened in awe, just being able to have such a peek into a different person's world. That was what she would have done for practically my entire life, since I moved into the building when I was in first grade and she befriended me.

Instead, she replied hesitantly, "Friday night? I'm sorry, Iori, but I promised Mimi-chan I'd see a movie with her. I've gotta go, see ya!" And I heard the annoying dial tone.

Then, I thought bitterly, Tachikawa Mimi moved back to Odaiba.

I hit the flash button and dialed Takeru.

"I'm sorry, Iori, but I'm going to spend the weekend with my brother and dad," he said, and there was true regret in his voice. "I haven't seen them for a while, and my dad's made it clear he really wants me to be there this weekend." I felt so bad, because Takeru always tries to make time for everyone -- his mother, his brother and dad whom he doesn't see as often as he likes, his other friends, Hikari, me... I could hear the anguish in his voice as he let me down.

"It's all right, don't worry. I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah!" He cheered up. "I'll try not to be so late tomorrow, see ya!"

"See ya!"

A click.

I considered my choices. I didn't really have many friends outside the digidestined. Making friends has never been easy, and I've always tended to associate with those intellectually equal, rather than physically and biologically equal. Daisuke and Ken always had soccer on Friday evenings; often in the past few weeks I'd watched them. I always felt awkward when inviting a girl other than Miyako to dinner. With Miyako, we'd been friends for so long it didn't matter that she was an older girl. A girl like Hikari would be awkward, especially if Mother's date was the type to make crude jokes. Out of the older children...Mimi was busy, Yamato would be with his brother, and Taichi and Sora would likely be 'studying' with each other. (Hikari sometimes reported how many dirty jokes, pillow fights, and jokes of long-time best friends went on during the study sessions. I wondered sometimes whether Miyako and I would have been like that if she still liked to hang out with me...)

The only two I could have really called, in any case, were my two mentors, two boys I thought of as older brothers to me. Jyou, the serious and reliable boy who had helped me often during the fiercest battles and had helped me redefine myself, and Koushirou, the intelligent and polite boy whose personality was uncannily like mine. It was their traits that I had inheirited, Knowledge and Faithfulness.

I couldn't ask Jyou. Jyou was in college now, and constantly busy. I was so afraid of interrupting his studies. Koushirou would be a better choice. I dialed.

"Moshi moshi, Izumi residence, Koushirou speaking."

"Hello, Koushirou. It's me, Iori."

"Hey, Iori!" His familiar voice crackled with genuine warmth. "How's junior high for you?"

"Good, thank you."

"Making friends?" Great, he sounded like a second mother.

"A few. And how's high school?"

"Ah, challenging but fun!" I heard the steady clicking of keys on the other side of the phoneline as he rapidly typed.

I half-smiled. "Koushirou-san, there's something I have to ask you. Would you come to dinner at my apartment on Friday night?"

"Sure! I can be there by...six? Is that all right?"

"Yes!" We talked of other, trivial things until he had to go. With a promise made, I hung up and laid down flat on my bed.

I think about things when I sleep. I think about my past, I think about the future. I think about friendships, I think about school. I think about _her_. I think about my father, my grandfather, a long line of men going back into the medieval times, lines of duty, lines of honor I'll be expected to uphold. I think about math problems. I think about anything to distract me from how I feel that my life is one huge gaping hole stretching to infinity, nothing new, everything there already but empty, bare of life...

Sometimes I think of that, too.

---

School days. I now wear the Odaiba Junior High uniform. It fits me perfectly, although ironed stiffly. Three buttons buttoned, collar stiff, blue tie tied correctly.

I ate breakfast swiftly and walked downstairs, backpack balanced on my back. I pressed the button for the elevator and it arrived. I entered and pressed the ground-floor button. It's all automatic by now.

The elevator stopped on the fourth floor. Takeru's cheerful face appeared. He wore the same uniform that I did, but it's slightly rumpled, didn't fit him as immaculately as my own. His red and orange cap was on his head, a cheerful monstrosity.

"Good morning."

"Good morning."

We talked as we walked to the junior high. Other students passed us, sometimes waving hello to Takeru. "Hey, Takaishi-san!" No one said hello to me, I'm too new and insignificant. Daisuke ran up and grabbed Takeru's hat. There was a good-natured scuffle to get it back. Takeru won, of course; he's taller than Daisuke by a few inches.

I smiled at my companions' chatter and caught a glimpse of _her_ across the street and a few paces ahead. My heart lifted. A boy walked up to her and started chatting. I stifled an urge towards homicide.

When we entered the school, I seperated from my companions and went to my classroom. I daydreamed through my morning classmates, occasionally scribbling down a note or two. Her seat was right next to the window, I could make it look like I was looking out the window, instead of staring at her. I always retreated into my head for most of the school day...

Lunch passed. I ate with Takeru, Daisuke, and Hikari. They're all popular and well-liked in their class, and the only reason I'm known for anything in this school is because they're my friends. I don't care, but I'm glad that they made a space for me. It was what Miyako did when we were in the same school.

"Hey, Iori-kun," said Hikari. "Do you have any friends in your own grade?" she asked cautiously, sweetly.

My insides curdled. She had that look on her face, the look she always got when she was trying to cut people up and dissect them into bits. "Friends?" I blinked, hoping to give off an air of innocence. "Yes."

Well, it's not a lie, technically. I do have friends, sort of...in a casual way...not friends like them, but friends nonetheless. I mean, they're nice enough...I help Koji with his homework, and Keiko sticks up for me sometimes, when she gets her nose out of her books, and _she's_ a friend of everyone...

Hikari looked at me strangely.

"You know I don't lie," I said steadily.

"Yeah, but..."

"So! Takeru!" broke in Daisuke. "Do you have basketball practice Friday? 'Cause I was thinking if you didn't, then you could come to Ken's and my game. You too, Hikari-chan, Iori."

"Sorry, it's Friday," Takeru said, frowning. "I'm going to my dad's house."

"My mom wants me home," I sighed.

"Hikari-chan?" he asked.

"Sure, I'm free," said the girl.

"It's too bad you guys can't go," Daisuke groaned, then proceeded to take up the rest of the lunch period talking about how he and Ken would rule at their soccer match. "You'll take pictures, right, Hikari-chan?" He was babbling to get Hikari and me to stop arguing, in some subtle way proving his role as the Keeper of Friendship.

Peacemaking was never really Daisuke's thing, not when he was a rambunctious kid pretending to be the leader, but he's grown up and matured a lot. He no longer flirts as obviously with Hikari -- there's still affection for her, anyone can see that with how he treats her, but he's not head-over-heels, he's kinder.

The bell rang, and I left to throw away my trash. I left them all.

---

"Hey, Iori, wait up!"

It's Daisuke. I waited, holding my briefcase in one hand. His bag is crammed full of books; I only have two. He rushed to get closer to me.

"Yes?" I asked when he's close enough to talk to.

"Iori...do you want to talk?" he gasped between breaths.

I gave him a look. "Why?"

"No reason, just though you might want to."

"Did Hikari-san set you up to this?"

"Nnnnn...yeah."

"I don't need Hikari-san to psychoanalyze me. I'm perfectly fine."

"You know how Hikari-chan is!" said Daisuke, grinning. He adopted an outrageously high falsetto. "Daisuke-kun, why haven't you been hanging out with Iori lately? He looks sad. Why don't you talk to him, Daisuke-kun?" He coughed and reverted to his normal voice range. "But, Hikari-chaaaaan, what if Iori doesn't want me to talk to him? I might be older than he is, but he's strong, he won the kendo championships last year, he could pulverize me! But she said, so, Da-i-su-ke-ku-n," he enunciated, "you're afraid of a little boy, you big strong maaaaaan? So, of course, I had to talk to you."

I smiled. Daisuke has that effect on anyone. He makes you smile, through any way possible. Pride is the least important thing for him, and his friends are everything. It's a rare quality among most people I know. It's always nice to be reminded that there are people like him around.

"Seriously, Iori...if anything's bothering you, you can talk to me or one of the others, you know." His voice is warm.

"Daisuke-san..." I considered for a moment. "When you had a crush on Hikari...how did you feel?"

His face changed, but just for an instant. Instead of the grinning boy, there's a flash of pain and a look of sorrow. Then his face changed back. "Iori, is there a girl in your life that you're not telling us about?"

"N-n-no! There's no girls!"

He considered. "Any boys?"

"No!" I blushed. Great. "I just wondered...what it's like to have a crush on someone."

"How do you know..." He paused. "Well, I...I...she's a very pretty girl, you know. And she's kind. And I thought she was perfect in every way. And I couldn't give up. And she never really did reject me, so..." It's his turn to blush. "I guess I was wrong, but..." He flashed a grin, white teeth against his tanned skin. "It's kind of hard to be wrong. Hikari-chan's still one of the most wonderful people I know, and it turned out all right, in the end. I'd rather be her friend than have _nothing_."

I can see the pain in his eyes, though, and I know Daisuke's never really given up, that even now he's still hanging onto her every word, even though he knows he'll forever remain just friends, even though he's dated other girls. I don't know if I want love to transform me into that. I don't know if I could accept that pain into my heart.

I don't know if I can stop it.

You know, there's love and then there's crushes and then there's other things, and I really don't know what my feelings for her are. But a glimpse at her can lighten my day, and when she talks to me I'm so happy, even when it's not very personal, and I wish she talked to me and only me, even though I have no claim over her except for in my own heart. And it's irrational; I have no way of having any control over her, no way to stop these feelings except to confront her...and I can't. I'm a coward, I'm an idiot, I let fear control me, because I just can't take the pain that love causes.

"Thank you, Daisuke-san." I bowed and walked on.

---

"Iori!" Mom yelled the next night. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," I whispered. The safest thing to do when my mother was like this was to retreat. She was cooking, cleaning, and snapping at me all she could. She wanted tonight to be perfect, to impress her guy.

It was too bad Takeru-kun couldn't come, I reflected. He was good at discouraging his mother's would-be suitors. Me, I tended to stare at them and they would try to involve me in conversations with syrupy tones or ignore me completely and ask my mother in the kitchen whether I had any 'problems.'

"Someone's at the door! Go get it, I'm not ready yet!"

Which I translated as, I only have one earring on and my makeup's only half-finished. Having Miyako as a friend for so long has given me a unique view into the female psyche.

I swung the door open. I was wearing my school uniform, still; it was neat and clean and fit me.

"Hey, Iori-kun!" said Koushirou.

"Koushirou-san!" I grinned. "Good to see you!"

He was also wearing his school uniform. After taking off his street shoes, we retreated to my room.

"So, was there any particular reason you wanted me to come?" Koushirou asked me, once we were in the relative privacy of my room.

"Well, my mom's bringing some guy and his kids to dinner, and I wanted someone to talk to -- a buffer, if you would."

"Ah." He wrinkled his nose. "No other reason?"

I gritted my teeth. "Has Hikari-san been telling everyone that she thinks I'm depressed?"

Koushirou squirmed. "Yes."

"I think those psychology classes are ruining her mind," I said bitterly.

"That's not fair." Koushirou ran a hand through his thick red hair. "I took the same classes she did."

"Sorry, Koushirou-san."

"And even besides that, changing schools is a traumatic thing for anyone of any age level. And... well, you're the only digidestined since Jyou to have been the only digidestined in your grade level."

I frowned in concentration. "Mimi wasn't in your grade for a while, she was all by herself in America."

"Yeah, but she had friends in both places." He chuckled. "Do you know how many e-mails she sent a week? At least three e-mails a week to every single digidestined, not to mention her other school friends here. She even sent e-mails to me and Yamato, and we were never really close to Mimi. And she'd call all of us constantly! I think her parents moved back to Japan because it was cheaper than having those long-distance calls to Japan -- of course, now she calls her American friends." He winked.

I grinned, despite myself. "I get it."

"So now we're worried about you, Iori-kun, because you don't seem to have many friends in your grade level, and you seem distracted when we talk...is anything bothering you?"

By now, Daisuke's conversation must have been passed on to Hikari, and from there Hikari would distribute the gossip. Who needs a grapevine, when you've got Yagami Hikari? Sometimes she'd pass on the gossip to _me_, I don't know what she thinks I'd do with it. It was a lot like how Miyako would treat me, but Miyako was different. When Miyako told me information, it was to keep secret. When Hikari told me gossip items, there was always an implication to pass it on -- although she'd never say so, of course.

And that's okay for girls, the people like Hikari and Miyako and Mimi and I guess Sora, to talk and talk and talk and pass on information without ever taking it in, sifting fact from fiction, trying to decide what was real and what was formulated opinion, what I should believe and what I shouldn't. Having that kind of knowledge is much better than gossiping about it.

"No," I shook my head firmly. "No, there's nothing wrong with me."

"I didn't mean wrong, Iori-kun." His voice was gentle. "Is there anything you just want to talk about?"

I met his gaze. "No. Nothing."

I've told a lie, but is it a real lie? Because I don't really want to talk with him, not here, not now. I want to talk about my feelings sometime, yes, but not right now, and maybe not with him. Koushirou-san, for all that he's my friend, is like me. We look for logical patterns in things, and sometimes feelings just aren't logical. He's too much like me to be able to understand love.

I need to talk to Miyako, like how she talked to me, and how we best friends could speak, but because Mimi stole her away, I don't have anyone to talk to anymore...

"Nothing," I repeated, looking Koushirou in the eye.

He started to say something, but he was interrupted my my mother's voice calling "Iori! Get out of your room! Our guests are here!"

I walked out of my room, Koushirou beside me, until I reached the dinner table and met my mother's date.

Her date was an older man, dark hair, sort of rugged looking, a bit tired. He smiled uneasily when he saw me, as if he wanted to place me but he couldn't.

His kids...I sucked in my breath. One was a bit taller than the other, but they had the same blonde hair and cold blue eyes.

"T-T-Takeru-san?" I gasped. "Yamato-san? What are _you_ doing here?"

"Ah!" my mother said happily. "I see you know each other already, there shouldn't be any need for introductions, but we shouldn't forget to be polite! This is my son Hida Iori, and his friend Izumi Koushirou. Iori, this is Ishida Ryuichi, and these are his sons Yamato and Takeru. Now that we've been properly introduced, why don't we eat?"

To Be Continued...

Will Iori survive the dinner? How serious is this parents' romance? Who is this girl that Iori loves? Find out next time. ^_-