I remember it like it was yesterday, the look of annoyance written plainly on her face, the way her eyes seemed to glow with anger

Notes: First things first, I don't own Digimon. Can you imagine how dark it would be if I actually did?

This fic contains bits of shoujo ai (a.k.a. f/f cuteness), Somi to be specific. I suppose if you absolutely wanted it to, it could be just a friendship thing but it's not intended to be. It also portrays one of the characters as having an eating disorder, which can be an uncomfortable subject for some people, I understand. If it bothers you, then you probably should leave.

This is going to be a 2-part thing; I'll probably post the other part in a few days. This is Sora's POV, the other is Mimi's. The title and lyrics are from "4st. 7lb." by the Manic Street Preachers. It's a good song…they say my name in it. Of course, they're not talking about me, but…

Anyway, enjoy.

* * * * *

I remember it like it was yesterday, the look of annoyance written plainly on her face, the way her eyes seemed to glow with anger.

"I don't know what you're going on about," she declared with a huff. "I'm fine!"

"Mimi, you are not fine! You're pale, tired, withdrawn, and I'm nearly positive that you've lost weight! Something is wrong with you, and I want to know what it is!"

She huffed loudly, turned on her heels, and started to storm out of the room. But not before she paused briefly to shoot me a glance over her shoulder.

I felt myself soften at that look, although I couldn't tell you why. The irritation I had been feeling merely seconds ago faded into something, an emotion I'd never felt before. It was like fear, sadness, worry, and pain all molded into one.

"Mimi, please…"

She blinked, almost seeming started that I spoke, and then continued out, slamming the door behind her.

I took a deep breath and tried to assess the situation. Mimi and I had just had a fight; she had just walked out. I should go after her, but my feet won't move. They feel like weights, forcing me to stay put.

But most importantly, something is wrong. I have this feeling that something is very, very wrong.

And I can't do a single thing about it.

* * * * *

Karen says I've reached my target weight

Kate and Emma and Kristin know it's fake

Problem is diet's not a big enough word

* * * * *

"I think you're overreacting."

My frown deepened as I stopped to stare at the blond musician. "What do you mean?"

Matt shrugged and kept walking past me. I had to increase my speed to keep up with him. "Finals are coming up. People are always stressing out when it's finals time. It's no big deal. She'll be better in a few days."

I almost couldn't stop the groan that was trying to force its way out of my mouth. "Yes, but this is Mimi we're talking about, not Joe. Mimi doesn't care about finals. I doubt she even knows that we have them. I'm telling you that something is wrong."

He sighed and shook his head, sending locks of hair into his eyes. In a quick motion they were back in their normal position. "And I'm telling you it's nothing. Hell, what is it you girls are always complaining about? PMS? Maybe that's it."

"Matt, for God's sake! PMS is not something that should affect your appearance, and Mimi looks sick!"

"Whatever. I'm not a girl; I know nothing of your female issues. I only know that it seems like you all are bitching about them daily." He made a small dismissing hand motion. "You're overreacting, Sora. It's simple as that. She's having a bad week and you're blowing it out of proportion. No big deal, you tend to do that a lot with her."

"Huh?" I stopped walking just long enough to give his back a strange look before quickly catching back up with him. If one paused for too long with Matt Ishida, one might never catch up with him. Damn him and his legs anyway.

"I don't know. You do. You flip out if the smallest thing could possibly affect her."

"I do not."

He snickered, then gave me a knowing look. "Yes, you do. Remember last year when you saw her and that Meyers guy talking in the hallway?"

I squinted at him, trying to see what was so wrong about that. "So? He's a heartbreaker. Everybody knows that. I didn't want her getting hurt, like his last girlfriend. Besides, he kept staring at her chest."

"So you slapped him."

"Yes, I slapped him. And now he's afraid of me. What's wrong with it? Mimi's my friend."

Matt nodded at me and readjusted his guitar case on his shoulder. "So if some guy was eyeing my crotch, and he had a bad rep, you'd slap him for me?"

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Both you and I know you'd enjoy someone eyeing your crotch, player or not."

In response I received a light smack and a chuckle.

"Seriously though, you don't think something is wrong with her?"

With a loud sigh, he turned to face me. "If I thought there was something seriously out of place, you know I'd never just stand by and do nothing. She's practically my sister, both of you are actually. But I don't. I mean, she's Mimi. She's fine, trust me."

But try as I might, I just couldn't squelch this horrible feeling in my stomach that said Mimi was in trouble.

* * * * *

I want to walk in the snow

And not leave a footprint

I want to walk in the snow

And not soil its purity

* * * * *

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm my heart which for some odd reason had started pounding erratically the moment I stepped foot into the restaurant. For the life of me I don't know why I'm so nervous.

"Mimi," I started, staring intently at my napkin. I hated it; I didn't know what to say. I'd had a speech earlier, when I'd asked her to meet me for lunch. But I couldn't remember a single word of it.

"Are you waiting for it to jump up and bite you or something?"

I jumped, my gaze leaving the piece of maroon cloth for only a second before returning. "No, I was just admiring the pattern. Such an interesting one, isn't it?"

"Sora, there is no pattern. It's plain."

I blinked stupidly, suddenly realizing that sure enough there wasn't one. "I know. Isn't it sort of surreal? A napkin with no pattern?"

"Sora, are you feeling okay?" Her wide eyes stared curiously at me from behind a few strands of long hair. She looked tired, and I could have sworn that her face was shrinking. Her cheeks seemed almost sunken.

I should have been asking her if she felt all right.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I found myself answering. "I just wanted to apologize for the other day, when I blew up at you. I'm sorry…"

Mimi shook her head and started to mix the dressing into her salad with her fork. "Don't be. I wasn't exactly pleasant either. How about we just put it behind us?"

"Yeah, okay." I narrowed my eyes at the way she was messing with her food. Something about it seemed wrong.

God, that sounds neurotic. Mimi's not eating right. How weird do I sound?

"But that's not all I wanted to talk about."

Her head cocked to the side. "Oh? What else then?"

She took a quick drink of water, and once again I was stuck by how odd it seemed.

"Well, I don't want to start another fight again, but I just want to make sure that you're okay. I asked Matt about it, and he said not to worry. But I can't help it."

A sound came out of her throat that sounded something like a groan. "Not this again. I'm just fine, Sora, nothing is wrong. Why on earth do you think there is?"

I clenched my hands together. "Look at you! You look sick!" People in the restaurant were staring at us, but at that moment I could have cared less. "Something is not right with you, and I want to know what it is!"

"Oh, I wish you'd stop this! I'm perfectly fine. You're the one that is making something 'not right' here!"

Before she had even finished the sentence she was stalking out of the restaurant, leaving me to cradle my aching head in my hands. This was becoming more and more painful.

"Excuse me, ma'am, can I get you something?"

I exhaled loudly and gave the waiter a small smile. "No, thank you."

When he was gone, I propped myself up on my elbows and stared blankly at the space that Mimi had just occupied. I let my gaze wander down a little bit until it stops on her plate, and with a start I realize why it seemed that she was eating strangely.

She hadn't eaten anything at all.

* * * * *

Naked and lovely and 5st. 2

May I bud and never flower

My vision's getting blurry

But I can see my ribs and I feel fine

My hands are trembling stalks

And I can feel my breasts are sinking

* * * * *

"So what can I do for you…" he paused, to glance at my name. "Sora?"

I stared critically at this fat man who had sat himself down in front of me. I'd never been to the school counselor before and being there felt extremely wrong.

Especially since that man didn't look like a counselor, he looked like a gym teacher. I didn't want to tell a gym teacher about Mimi, but he was the only one I could think of.

"Well I have this friend." I gave him a pointed look, as if trying to tell him that this was in fact a friend I was talking about, that I wasn't just ashamed to admit that it was me.

He seemed to understand, or at least he pretended like he did. "Go on."

"I'm really worried about her. She's…she hasn't been herself for a long time. She's tired, and she looks sick and pale. And I don't think she's eating."

The counselor gazed at me for a long while, his face twisting in what looked like concern although I could have been mistaken. "Have you tried to talk to her about this?"

I bit back a sarcastic reply. "Several times. She just gets angry with me, tells me that everything is 'perfectly fine'. We're actually not talking right now. I don't know what to do."

His frown deepened, causing me in turn to frown at him.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that? What should I do? What's wrong with my friend?" My voice took on a frantic yet pleading tone. Visions of Mimi dying of some horrible disease flew into me head.

"To be perfectly honest with you, Sora," he paused, his fuzzy eyebrows forming one big one, and I could have sworn I saw his stomach jiggle when he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "It sounds like she has anorexia."

I shook my head vehemently. "No, I don't think so. Mimi doesn't have anorexia. That's a mental disorder. She's…not the…no. She just doesn't." The images of Mimi dying were replaced by images I had seen in our health book in 6th grade, of girls so thin and frail they looked like they'd survived Auschwitz. Mimi wasn't like that.

"Your friend, Mimi? Is she by chance very focused on how her appearance, how she looks?"

I found it sickening that he thought it was necessary to define appearance, but pushed it to the back of my mind. "Yes, but-"

"And you say she's not eating."

"Yes, but she…" I trailed off, suddenly feeling very disgusted with myself. "She's…" I tried again, but I couldn't force it out of my mouth. "Excuse me."

I all but ran out of the office, and I didn't stop until I was safely inside the nearest girl's bathroom. After quickly making sure that I was the only one in it, I slid into one of the many stalls and leaned my forehead against the door.

And then I started to cry.

* * * * *

Kate and Kristin and Kit Kat

All things I like looking at

Too weak to fuss, too weak to die

Choice is skeletal in everybody's life

I choose, my choice, I starve to frenzy

Hunger soon passes and sickness soon tires

* * * * *

I remember once a few years ago when I didn't eat for a day, not intentionally though. I was so busy that day, going from place to place, that I honestly didn't have even five minutes to grab something. By about 6:00, my head was pounding so much that I ate dinner then went straight to bed.

I couldn't imagine what it must feel like for Mimi, not eating a full meal for days, possibly weeks, on end.

Anorexia nervosa.

I had looked it up in my mom's medical dictionary the night before.

It had said quite plainly, "Fifteen percent of all anorexia sufferers die, which makes it the deadliest of all psychiatric disorders."

I stopped reading after that sentence.

And then I decided that I would talk to Mimi and make her stop this. She couldn't die, she just couldn't.

I didn't even give her a chance to talk when I showed up at her door the next day. I merely pushed my way past her and stood in the living room, giving her an accusing look.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, glaring at her. She looked the same, no better, no worse. Of course now that I realized what she was doing, it seemed worse to me.

"Sora?" Her eyes blinked, and I saw that they had lost their color. Now they seemed to be a pale shade of gray, no brightness, no warmth, no nothing. I felt sick. "What are you talking about?"

"This!" I gestured with my hand toward her body. She really didn't look as skinny as those girls in the health book, so I took that as a good sign.

"Huh?"

I had to stop and take a deep breath. Suddenly it seemed like things were going way too fast. "Don't play dumb, Mimi. You're…you're starving yourself and I want to know why!"

Her eyes widened and her lips turned into a little white line. "I am not."

"Yes, you are! I can't believe I didn't see it before, but you're doing it."

"Sora…"

I stomped my foot like a child throwing a tantrum, which is probably what I was. "Don't 'Sora' me. I want to know what you're thinking right now."

Her lip trembled and she opened her mouth, then she shut it. I saw unshed tears glistening in her eyes and I felt even more nauseous.

"Why do you care?" she asked in a strained voice, looking away.

"Why? Because I love you, that's why! Now for God's sake, Mimi, talk to me!" I fought against the urge to shake her; that wouldn't do any good.

Her lip trembled again. "You wouldn't understand," she sobbed, collapsing forward into my arms.

I drew her close to me and made my way back towards the couch, sitting both of us down when I got there. She was practically on my lap, but I didn't care.

She was so small, so thin. I'm positive I could feel her bones, and I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed how skinny she was before.

"You wouldn't understand. You can't understand." She still continued to sob. I don't think she knew what she was talking about anymore.

We spent the next hour or so like that, Mimi crying into my shoulder and me cradling her, mumbling words of comfort to her.

Never in my entire life have I ever been so afraid of the future.

* * * * *

Yeh 4st. 7, an epilogue of youth

Such beautiful dignity in self-abuse

I've finally come to understand life

Through staring blankly at my navel

* * * * *