Part 4
by Rb
Miyako was looking over some documents when the thought struck
her -- it'd been six months since Ken died.
She paused in her work, removed her glasses, and pinched the
bridge of her nose. Had it been that long? It seemed like only
yesterday that he'd been beside her, rising in the middle of the
night to tend Ari, moving so gently she never heard him get out
of bed. Only last week she'd heard him humming as he read, one
hand stroking Wormmon's head. Only last month that they'd lain
together for the first time, on their wedding night.
That had been an odd time. It wasn't her first time, but she
rather suspected it had been Ken's. They'd been worried, excited,
drunk on the emotions of the wedding -- well, Miyako was, it was
hard for Ken to ever let himself get as carried away as Miyako
did, he was too self-contained.
Before they were ready, he'd asked her a question.
"Miyako, is it possible to lie to yourself?"
Confused, she'd answered, "I guess so."
"Are you sure?" he'd pressed.
"Yes."
"Good."
That being said, they'd surrendered to the night.
Miyako wondered about a lot of things. One of them was whether
she'd ever known the true Ichijouji Ken, or whether he'd been
deceiving her all those years of their marriage. She wouldn't put
it past him -- she knew he could live a lie, had seen him live a
lie before.
She remembered the memoirs that Koushirou had -- literally --
under lock and key. Maybe if she could read them, she would be
able to see the real Ken... the one he'd hidden, even from her.
"Thinking deep thoughts?" asked a quiet voice beside
her. She jerked up to see Koushirou standing next to her chair,
smiling gently.
"Ah...not really," she covered up, smiling ruefully as
she replaced her glasses. "I just remembered...it's been six
months since Ken died."
His eyes flickered with grief. "I'm sorry."
"It's all right!" She forced a brighter smile onto her
face. "Don't worry about me. I'm learning how to survive. I
have to learn how to go on. Please don't be sad on my
account."
"I won't," he promised. He sat down on a corner of her
desk. "Find anything new?"
"Not really," Miyako said, wrinkling her nose. "If
I find anything, I'll tell you."
She'd already discovered that Koushirou, when he had nothing else
to do, liked to wander into her office space and talk to her
about seemingly random topics, ranging from work to the Digital
World to their children. Koushirou knew much about child-rearing,
to Miyako's surprise, and was a good source of advice when
dealing with her own three children.
If she minded that Koushirou interrupted her work so often, she
would have complained, either obliquely or to his face, and put
an instant stop to his practice. But she didn't mind. She didn't
mind at all.
"Six months..." he sighed, changing the topic easily.
"Are you going to do anything?"
"I don't think so," she shrugged.
"Why not eat dinner at my house? My mother won't mind, and
I'd feel better if you were among friends, tonight."
"Well..."
"I'll invite Hikari and Iori, if you wish. And the other
Chosen, as well. Your children and my own will be there, of
course, and all of our digimon. And my mother. It can
be...something of a party. A family party,"
Koushirou stressed.
"Oh...all right."
"Good." He smiled. Koushirou had always had a nice
smile, Miyako reflected. He just hadn't seemed to use it until
recently. Maybe being a father had mellowed him out. Stranger
things have happened, after all.
"Do you think you'll be getting remarried, when your
mourning year is up?" he inquired curiously.
Miyako blushed slightly. "I...I don't know yet, it rather
depends on me meeting the right guy, after all."
"Is that a yes or no?" he teased.
"I guess I will. I'm not going to get married 'just for the
sake of being married.' I'd have to really love the man, and have
him love me back -- and there aren't many men left, at my
age."
"Ah, yes, you're such an old fogey, says the man who happens
to be only a year older than you," Koushirou grinned.
"Thank you." Miyako grinned back.
"If you want unattached men, there's always Daisuke,"
he suggested.
Miyako's eyes widened in shock. "Marry Daisuke? It'd be
like...like marrying my own brother or something." They both
laughed. Miyako sobered after a while. "I'd like more
children. I had a big family growing up. I like kids. I'd like to
have a whole bunch."
"That would be nice," agreed Koushirou wistfully.
"I was an only child, myself, and Hitomi seems to be an only
child as well."
"There's no reason for that!" Miyako said, aghast.
"Find some nice woman and make some more children! They're
what make this world worth living in!"
Koushirou turned and looked closely at her computer display.
"Ah, but there aren't many women left, at my age...I have to
confess, if I had another daughter, I'd like to name her Haruko.
Izumi Haruko. Isn't that a great name?"
Miyako looked suspiciously at Koushirou. "Izumi
Haruko...there's a pun in there, isn't there -- oh!" she
yelped so loudly that Tentomon looked up from his own display.
"You wouldn't!"
"It's a good name..."
Miyako glared at him. "You'd seriously name your daughter
something that translates into English as 'Spring Spring?'"
"Well, when you put it that way..." He
grinned. "The workday's almost over. You might as well close
up. I'll go and call the others."
"All right." She found that she was smiling. Koushirou
did that to her. It was a friendly feeling and a sort of warming
halo around her heart.
From the other side of the office, Hawkmon watched with
trepidation.
---
Tentomon pretended to be asleep in the corner of Koushirou's
office as the man started making phone calls. Koushirou's phone
calls were certainly something to listen to.
"Hi, Mother, this is Koushirou...I want to invite a few
friends over for dinner tonight, so can you fix some extra
dinner...yes, including Miyako-kun...Mother!...I can hear your
laughter...I fail to see what's so amusing...all right, I'm
thinking...all of the Chosen, their children, and all of their
digimon...about thirty, half of them digimon, so have a
lot...what do you mean, there's no possible way you can cook that
much?! Order out! Pay extra! Bribe them! It's got to be perfect
for Mi -- for everyone!"
"Ne, Yuuki-kun, can you get your father on the phone...ah,
Taichi, I was wondering if you'd like to come to dine at my house
this evening. Yes, bring everyone, even Yuuki-kun and Umi-san if
you want. Oh? You have something to tell me? Tell us all at my
dinner party! It's at six."
"Hello, Takeru...oh, Hikari, that's great, I wanted to talk
to you both anyway. You're both invited to eat at my house
tonight...it's not exactly a special occasion...see, it's been
six months since Ken died, and I don't want to Miyako to be alone
tonight...Hikari!" Tentomon looked up with interest.
Koushirou's cheeks were rapidly reddening. "I thought you
were supposed to be the inno...all right, come over to my place,
around six."
"Iori. Would you like to eat at my house tonight? With your
family, of course...thank you. I'll see you at six."
Tentomon yawned as Koushirou left messages on Yamato's and Sora's
answering machines.
"Jyou, would you like to eat at my house tonight?...oh,
why?...but...Jyou...come on, Jyou, honestly, we've barely ever
seen you in the last few years, do something with your friends
instead of moping alone watching Mimi's insincere face on the
television and moping on how it could have been different!"
The silence went on for a while. Tentomon watched in fascination
as the color drained from Koushirou's face. "I'm...I'm
sorry...yes, that was out of line...but please, Jyou, come, it
won't be the same without you...Thank you. I'll see you at
six."
Koushirou set down the vid-phone, panting slightly.
"Koushirou-han, this means a lot to you, huh?" Tentomon
asked. "But why'd you snap at Jyou like that?"
"Eh! Tentomon, I didn't realize you were there...I was just
a bit stressed out...I snap when I'm stressed...let's go,
Miyako'll be waiting."
"Just make sure you don't drive off without me,"
Tentomon muttered.
"What was that?"
Tentomon stretched his wings and buzzed up into the air.
"Koushirou-han...we've been best friends for around thirty
years now, correct?"
"Yes..."
"And we've always been close friends, never putting anything
before each other?"
"Yes...Tentomon, we have to go -- "
"Then why am I always being pushed aside for Miyako?"
Tentomon's words fell like ice chips; Koushirou stopped dead in
his tracks. "Tentomon, I...I would never..."
"Look at you right now. You were more interested in Miyako
than me. Admit it."
"Tentomon...I wouldn't just 'push you aside'...you mean so
much more than just that to me, but...I care for Miyako." He
blushed.
"Does she care for you back?" Tentomon asked.
"I...I don't...no," he sighed. "Not in the same
way."
"Oh," was Tentomon's response.
Koushirou slumped, then managed a smile. "C'mon, Tentomon.
Let's go."
Tentomon stared at his human partner's retreating back. He knew
Koushirou had difficult emotional responses; Koushirou had never
exactly been open and warm and emotional, even when he'd been a
young boy. Especially not when he'd been a young boy, come to
think of it. His emotional responses had always been very
contained, very controlled.
To see Koushirou's emotions to be slipping out from behind the
mask Koushirou had always worn...it was frightening, to say the
least.
Tentomon buzzed his wings and followed Koushirou out the door.
The least he could do would be to watch, now. To wait and see. He
was good at being patient. He could manage.
---
During the ride back, Miyako noticed that Koushirou seemed
unusually tense and quiet, but she couldn't think of much to say
herself. His determination to have this dinner party for her
was...startling, to say the least. She didn't need it. She didn't
want it. She didn't want to disappoint Koushirou, though.
Koushirou's mind was on fire. Everything had to be perfect for
Miyako, he'd have to make sure that it was all perfect and all
right, tonight would be a major night, tonight would be the night
that he could finally start to judge her feelings for him,
whether they were reciprocated at all...
Tentomon was unsure of Koushirou's priorities and emotions,
worried but trusting.
Hawkmon was anxious, having picked up on Koushirou's true
intentions long ago and not thinking it was proper.
Ari was sleeping. He was such a gentle baby.
---
The argument on the doorstep had obviously been going on for a
long time when Koushirou and the others finally reached his home,
and showed no signs of stopping soon.
Miyako winced. While she'd heard about Sora's and Yamato's fights
-- normally in great detail from Sora -- it was rare to actually
witness one of their fights, Sora being too dignified and Yamato
too reserved to fight in public.
Besides her, Koushirou looked thoughtful. "Shall we break it
up?"
Miyako's eyes widened slightly. "I...I guess so."
Koushirou scurried out of the car, opening doors all around. He
opened Miyako's door first, almost tripping over himself in his
rush to get to her. After everyone had clambered out -- Miyako
lifting up Ari and holding him, glad to have something to hold --
they walked towards Sora and Yamato, who were encased in their
flaming argument.
"How can you forget your own daughter's birthday?" Sora
spat out, her voice shrill with anger.
Yamato's reply was quiet and low-pitched. "How am I supposed
to remember it when I barely remember what she looks like?"
Sora's cheeks flushed in anger. "And whose fault is that,
Mr.
'I-Don't-Care-If-It's-My-Turn-To-Watch-The-Children,-I'll-Just-Make-It-Up-Any-Time?"
Yamato ran a hand through his close-cropped blond hair, obviously
uncomfortable. "I promised I'd make it up. I keep my
promises. I've made plans...I haven't seen Tori for nearly a
month," he said, his voice pleading.
"Again, whose fault is that? You have your weekends, I have
mine."
Koushirou cleared his throat noisily. Both of the sparring
partners looked up in shock. "What seems to be the
matter?"
Sora and Yamato looked towards each other, then both turned
towards Koushirou, not seeing Miyako and the other digimon behind
him.
"Well," Sora started a bit uneasily, "you know the
settlement, right?"
Koushirou nodded, his solemn black eyes seeming to lock onto both
of them. "You, Sora, get Tori during the week, and Yamato,
you get Touma. During weekends, both children go with one parent
or the other. It's alternated, as are special occasions."
"It's a better arrangement than what Takeru and I got, but
it's still not totally fair," Yamato said bitterly.
"Now, in theory, it works out well," Sora said,
tight-lipped, "but in practice it has a few failings. Such
as a certain someone's constantly calling Thursday night or even
Friday morning saying 'I'm sorry, I'm busy, you take the kids
this weekend, I'll make it up somehow.'"
Yamato's blue eyes blazed as he glared at Sora. "That wasn't
my fault! My boss, I've asked for all the weekends I have with
the children off, but her scheduling, she's always - "
Sora took no notice. "Or a certain someone conveniently
forgetting whenever it's his weekend to take the children. Or a
certain someone forgetting when it's his daughter's birthday and
doesn't even have the courtesy to call her. Or - "
"Or a certain someone being such a friggin' cast-iron BITCH
that she won't even let her children's father see his
children!" Yamato yelled.
In the silence after Yamato's outburst, Ari began to cry.
"Stop it!" Miyako said, moving into Sora's and Yamato's
line of view, shoulder to shoulder with Koushirou. Koushirou
tensed slightly, obviously ready to intercede at any moment.
"Stop your arguing, you two! Don't you realize that your
children are probably waiting right inside the front door and
hearing every single word you're saying? Every time I come here,
they're disappointed that you haven't come. Do you argue like
this every time you come to pick them up?"
Sora blanched. Yamato took an involuntary step back.
"Actually, Miyako-san," Koushirou said in an ironic
undertone -- Miyako wondered why he was suddenly being so formal
-- "every night Yamato calls to make sure that Sora has
already picked up Tori and is gone. Every weekend, they drop the
kids off at a neutral place -- like my house or Taichi's
apartment -- for the other parent to pick up. This might very
well be the first time they've seen each other face to face
since...since, well, Ken-san's funeral."
"Oh," said Miyako. "Still. As parents, you have a
responsibility to be civil to each other, if only for your
children's sake. Now, kiss and make up, like Ken and I would have
done."
Miyako felt rather than saw Koushirou's wince, and thought, he
doesn't want me thinking about Ken tonight. What a kind man, to
want to distract me! She placed a slender white hand on his
shoulder to reassure him.
Sora saw this. She also saw the faint blush that appeared on
Koushirou's face at Miyako's gentle touch. She put these two
interesting facts together with other hints and some gleanings
from conversations with Hikari, and her eyes widened.
Koushirou...and Miyako? No way! Well, history has repeated
itself before...ohh, I hope she feels the same way...what's gonna
happen? I'd better stay here, and pick up the pieces...
Sora fixed a smile on her face. "You're right. I'm sorry,
Yamato." She stood stiffly on her tip-toes, closed her eyes,
and gingerly kissed Yamato on the cheek. The scent -- it was of,
well, Yamato, but she'd always thought of it as simply
"man" -- nearly overwhelmed her in the brief,
passionless, kiss. It was of tobacco, which always clung to his
favorite leather jacket, and of aftershave, and of something else
that she could never quite identify...
Startled and breathless, she broke off from the kiss -- which had
only been a few seconds, but felt like an eternity. Yamato was
staring at her, his blue eyes unfocused, looking as though he'd
just woken up from a dream.
Miyako grinned. "Sora, Yamato, Koushirou's having a family
party here at six. Won't you come?"
"Sure!" Sora accepted immediately. "I'd love
to!"
"Uh, I'd rather not," Yamato muttered. He looked
askance at Sora. Was it her imagination, or were the traces of a
flush still on his cheeks? "May I...take the children this
weekend?" Sora nodded. "I'll go get them, then."
He walked up to the front door and attempted to turn the knob. He
sweatdropped. "Ahh...it appears to be locked."
"Allow me," Koushirou said gallantly. With a flourish,
he produced a key and unlocked the door. Yamato gave him a dry
look, which Koushirou returned with a grin.
Miyako and Sora giggled.
---
Osamu heard the voices of adults long before any of his playmates
did, but he never paid attention to the voices he heard. He let
the sounds of the argument roll over him as he stacked blocks
together around him.
Hitomi cocked her head, her red hair falling into her face.
"I hear my daddy."
"I hear your father, too," corrected Tori crossly. She
never used 'baby' words. "And my mother and father, too. Bet
they're arguing over who gets us again," she told her
brother, wrinkling her nose.
"Doesn't it bother you to hear your parents fight?"
Hitomi asked curiously. In all of her memory, she couldn't
remember her father once raising his voice at her or her
grandmother.
Tori shrugged. "Enh. I got used to it."
"'Neechan?" Touma called for his big sister.
"What is it, Touma?" Tori asked, turning back to him.
"Which parent do you think we'll visit this weekend?"
Tori considered for a moment. "Hmm. Mother's had us for the
past few weeks, but she's also better at arguing. However, Father
seems to be putting up quite a fight. It could go either
way."
"I hope we go back to Daddy's," Touma said. "I
want to show you my new VR games. They're fun."
Hitomi crept closer to the door, having abandoned any pretense of
interest in the blocks. "Oooh, Osamu-chan, your mommy's here
too."
Osamu paid no attention. His wall of blocks completely surrounded
him and Minomon, and was nearly up to his waist when he stood up.
Sooner or later, he'd run out of blocks, and then Minomon would
have to float over and pick up more.
Crash! Crash! Crash! All of a sudden, the walls fell down, and
blocks scattered everywhere. Minomon zoomed up and buried himself
in Osamu's hair. Osamu's eyes shut as his face screwed up, but he
took in a deep breath and forced himself to think calmly.
When he opened his eyes again, he was expecting to see that
Hitomi, Tori, and Touma would be laughing at him -- Tori meanly
('cause Tori was always mean to him), Hitomi kindly (because she
meant it as a game, and would be offended when he didn't laugh as
well), and Touma innocently (because he only did what Tori did).
They would be standing in front of him, arranged like three
avenging angels.
He wasn't expecting to see...no one.
He looked down farther, and realized the destruction of his Wall
had come from Hitomi's Motimon, Touma's Tsunomon, and Tori's
Pyocomon.
"What do you want?" he muttered. He could feel Minomon
clinging tighter into his hair. He wanted Minomon to calm down,
but he couldn't figure out how...
"Don't lock yourself up," Motimon said in an oddly
sweet tone, which made Osamu think of Hitomi, of sunshine and
smiles. "We're here for you to talk to."
"You can always talk to us, and we'll always listen,"
said Pyocomon, smiling a little shyly.
"After all, you're our friend too, right? Right?
Right?" asked a bouncing Tsunomon.
Osamu felt Minomon release his terrified grip on his, Osamu's,
purple hair and gently float down to the crook of his elbow.
"Right," breathed Osamu. "Right."
Just then, the door slid open. There was a loud thump - or
succession of thumps - as Hitomi, Tori, and Touma all fell over
from where they had been (rather unsuccessfully) straining to
hear the conversation between their parents.
Osamu turned around in shock to see his mother and three other
adults enter the room and stare at the mess.
"Urk," said Osamu.
"Ow," said Tori, who was at the bottom of the pile.
Hitomi carefully climbed out of the tangle, straightened her
dress, and skipped over to her father. "Daddy!"
"Hitomi, honey..." the red-headed man, Hitomi's father,
smiled a little worriedly, "why is this room so messy?"
"Ahhh..." Hitomi beamed. "Grandmommy left us in
here, and she'd given us a bunch of blocks to play with, and Tori
said that this was stupid and why did we have to play
with a bunch of stupid blocks anyway, but Touma seemed to like
them and anyway Osamu was building a huge tower, and then Tori
and Touma and I..." Hitomi's report shriveled and died. She
couldn't lie to her daddykins, but neither could she
admit that the children'd been spying on their parents.
"...they were hiding!" Osamu blurted out. Every eye in
the room swiveled to Osamu; it was rare that he spoke out loud.
"They were hiding, because we were playing a game, and I was
going to find them, but then the door opened and my tower fell
over..."
"You were playing with the other children?" Miyako
asked.
"Of course!" Hitomi agreed. "Osamu-chan's fun to
play with!" She was the only one who could say that
honestly, but then again, Hitomi liked everyone.
Miyako smiled. "I'm glad."
Before anyone could inquire about Miyako's cryptic comment,
Yamato cleared his throat. "Tori, Touma, you're going to
come with me this weekend," he told his children.
"Tori, do you have everything that you need?"
"Mm!" Tori nodded.
"Yay! I'm gonna get to show 'Neechan my games!" Touma
cheered
After both children had said goodbye, they left with Yamato and
their digimon.
"Well, we still have some time to kill before six,"
Koushirou said. "Hitomi, Motimon, we have guests -- please
clean this room up before any other guests arrive." The two
started working busily, Tentomon helping.
Koushirou turned to Sora and Miyako. "Miyako-san," he
said, "will you watch the children for a moment while I
speak with Sora privately?"
"Sure," Miyako shugged, wondering at Koushirou's sudden
formality, yet his familiarity with Sora. She watched as the two
disappeared up a flight of stairs.
Idly, she thought about what she knew of the layout of the house.
Upstairs was...Koushirou's office...the library...the
bed...rooms...
She flashed back to her earlier off-hand remark to Koushirou
about finding some "nice woman" and settling down. She
thought about how bitterly Sora and Yamato had been fighting, and
how familiar Sora and Koushirou were.
It can't be...Koushirou and...her?
---
