TK: C-chan_Yagami does not own Digimon. She wants to, but she just doesn't. She thanks the owners for the use of their characters.

(A/N: I know this has been written a million times, but I decided to give a shot. Let me know how I did! Sorry so sappy. Bring tissues!)





Takeru No Miko



"TK! Don't chase the cat!" I groaned after my little brother. He stopped at my voice and straightened. I smiled as he skipped over to me. I scooped him up and he wasted no time in cuddling into me. "I don't think Chi - chan enjoys being tormented, TK," I chided gently. I laughed when I saw our pet cowering under the couch. TK giggled and threw his arms around my neck.
"Matt," he pouted suddenly, "Chi - chan scratched me." He held out his tiny hand for me to inspect and a bead of blood collected on his fingertip. Tears welled in his eyes at the sight and began to silently slip down his little cheeks.
"Aw, poor TK," I sympathized. "Let's go take care of that."
I carried him into the bathroom and set him on the counter next to the sink. He sat with his finger held out for me to see as I dug through the cabinets and drawers, trying to find Band - Aids. I actually found none. I looked up at TK and his blue eyes wobbling with tears and an idea snapped in my head.
"Come on, TK."
I discovered a bottle of white glue in the drawer in the kitchen and quickly uncapped it. I squirted a drop on my little brother's fingertip and his tears dried almost instantly. The glue dried clear over the wound and TK hugged me before I could straighten to put the glue away.
"Thank you, Matt," he sang before letting me go.
"That feel better?"
TK nodded and scampered off. I smiled and followed after him.
"Where you going, buddy?"
He didn't answer as he started to climb his bookcase. I grabbed him and pulled him down.
"You know better. What are you trying to get?"
TK pointed to the box of crayons that sat on a pad of paper on the top shelf.
"I wanna draw you a picture, Matt."
"All right," I smiled as I pulled the items down and handed them to TK. He made me run after him as he hurried to the kitchen table. He clambered onto a chair and quickly tore into the crayons. He swiftly began his drawing. I watched over his shoulder as he scribbled. I smiled, watching his little tongue curl out of the corner of his mouth.
I was watching TK so closely that I jumped when the front door opened. TK was concentrating hard enough that he didn't even look up.
Mom walked in with a sad sort of smile. TK lifted his head and rushed at her to be scooped up in a hug.
"Boys," Mom began, "we have to talk."
I stared at her as Dad came up behind her.
"You really are," I whispered, half laughing. "I never thought you would, but you really are."
Mom gave me an odd, surprised look.
"What do you mean?"
I stared at her, baffled.
"You are divorcing...right?"
She was the one to be baffled. Dad laughed, made a snickering comment to the degree of 'smart boy', and left. Mom hung her head and a single tear rolled down her cheek. I felt a sick thrill shoot through me at the sight. TK, at this point, had hopped down from Mom's embrace and was holding onto my sleeve with frantic confusion.
"Yes, we are," she said softly. I hesitated. There were so many things I wanted to scream at her. I wanted to drag my father in and scream at him as well. But all I could manage was,
"I can't believe two grown adults can't fix their own problems."
Mom flinched and another tear rolled down her cheek. She sighed.
"Why don't you boys run off to your room until I get dinner ready," she managed. I gladly accepted the invitation and hurried off.
I hadn't been in my room more than a few minutes before TK leaned against the door and peeped his head in. He saw me crying and quickly slipped in.
"Matt?"
I quickly wiped my eyes of hot angry tears. TK scampered into my lap and sat, tugging gently on my sleeve.
"Matt, why's Mommy so sad?"
I almost smiled at his sweet innocence.
"Mom and Dad are divorcing."
"What's that mean?" he asked, tears coming to his eyes. He didn't know what was going on, but he knew it wasn't good.
"It means Mom and Dad won't be living together anymore. Dad's probably moving out."
TK instantly broke into scared, frantic tears.
"Matt," he cried, "Matt, you aren't gonna leave me; are you? You're not leaving!"
He immediately buried his head in me and I held him.
"Naw, TK. I'm not going anywhere."
This didn't slow his scared tears, but his possessive grip on me only became tighter.

The next few months went by with quite a bit of stress. TK and I eventually moved in with Grandma. She dragged us to court with her. She claimed watching the custody battle would be good for us; we'd better understand what was going on. Personally, I was just confused and freaked out. Poor TK was bored to tears. Literally. It was all I could do to keep the kid occupied. The two of us would play cards in the back row of chairs. I lost more Oreos to this boy.
I did pay attention to some things. Eventually, I pieced a few things together. It wasn't long before I saw that it was imminent that TK and I were to be split up. Worse, I was going to be sent with my father. I didn't have the guts to tell TK. He'd figure it out eventually. I felt guilty, keeping it to myself, but I tried my hardest to rationalize it.

Finally the day came that Dad had to move out. I knew what was coming, so I packed my things as best I could. At seven, I was just able to pack up all my clothes and the few things I treasured. A silver dollar from my Grandpa, rest his soul, a piece of colored glass I had found at a construction site when I was four, a broken crayon my best friend had given me before he moved away. I pulled out a piece of paper I had stowed away between two books I never read anymore. It was TK's picture that he had so quickly forgotten about six months ago. I looked it over carefully. There was a crude sketch of a brunette woman and a little blonde boy. An outline had been started for a tall, dark - haired man and a slightly shorter blonde boy, but the picture had never been finished. I sighed and slipped it into the suitcase as well.
A moment or two later, Dad broke into my room with barely a knock. He looked from my suitcase to me.
"Eh, good job, son," he coughed. "Your mother's sending the rest. Come on."
That was it. No explanation, no excuse, no apology. Just 'come on'. I followed him out, closing the door on my seven year - long life.
The farewell to family was a bit less peaceful, and not nearly as wistful. I hugged my mother coldly, and quickly turned, mumbling a good - bye.
TK latched onto me and sobbed immediately.
"You said you weren't gonna leave me, Matt! You lied!"
I felt myself tear up but I wouldn't allow myself to cry.
"I know, TK," I choked gruffly. "I'm sorry."
"Why did you lie, Matt? Why do you have to leave?"
I didn't know what to tell him. I hugged him close and let him cry. I almost allowed a few tears from myself flow.
"I'm sorry," I managed. "Do you hate me?" I asked carefully. TK shook his head.
"No, Matt. I don't hate you. But why did you lie..." He trailed off into tears and Mom had to pry him off me. He struggled hard against her hold. "No, Matt! Don't leave! Please, don't leave!"
I walked away without turning to look back. Thinking about it now, that probably wasn't the best thing to have done. TK continued to scream and wail after Dad and I.
"Please, Matt don't leave!"
I can't believe I never looked back.