Whee! It's the last part! ::dances:: I have to admit, this part contains a few subplots which were mostly squelched in the actual story. I did throw out enough subplots which could have -- and might yet still -- make another story...but that's for another day.

I hope you all enjoy this part, however cliched parts might seem. ^_^;; I think that by the time someone reaches this part, they either really liked the story or they're really masochistic. Or this is MST-fodder. ::worries::

The line Hikari quotes is actually a song lyric. ^_^ The song is 'Inoru you ni, Ai Shiteru' (it translates to 'Like a prayer, I love you', roughly) and it's Fushigi Yuugi's Miaka-chan who sings the song. Miaka's seiyuu is Araki Kae, who also performs Hikari's voice...the song has always reminded me of Hikari, for that reason. I love that song. If anyone has the karaoke for it, I'll trade for it...err...I'll also send the song to anyone who wants it. ^_^

Anyway. Enjoy my representations of Toei's characters! ^_^

Kirai ni Narenai~I Can't Hate You~
Part Seven
by Rb

Sora didn't really feel like going out to lunch, even with Yagami Hikari. She was worried sick about Miyako, and had wanted to keep her schedule open in case Miyako needed her.

But Hikari...well, both Yagami siblings had this way about them. Daisuke had summed it up the best, really:

"When either of them looks at you, really, really, looks at you, you feel like you'd damn well better do 'zactly as they want, or else you're just an utter asshole."

His language was a bit crude, but Sora agreed with his meaning. When Hikari Requested her presence at lunch, Sora accepted it without question.

She wasn't expecting Yagami Taichi and Ishida Yamato already sitting at the table set for four.

"Hikari, what have you set me up for?" Sora demanded under her breath. Hikari paid no attention and sat in the nearest seat, leaving Sora to the last empty seat.

Sora had Yagami siblings at either side of her. Caging me in, she thought ruefully. Directly across from her was Yamato. She refused to make eye contact with him. She didn't want to speak with him. Wished she wasn't so intimately aware of his presence.

"So, sis, glad you could make it," Taichi winked at Hikari.

Hikari smiled back. "I'm always here for you, big brother." The two siblings started chatting about a variety of different trivial topics. Neither Sora nor Yamato spoke.

"All right. Let's eat! Sora? What do you want to eat?" Taichi asked finally, one finger poised over the order pad.

Sora contemplated the menu. "I'd like -- "

"She wants a black tea and cucumber salad," Yamato cut in.

Sora looked up in surprise. Yamato's blue eyes were distant, focused on the wall behind her. "That was always your favorite, after all," he noted coolly.

"Then you'll have a black tea, as well. You liked it just as much as I did," Sora shot back, keeping her tone a shade frostier than Yamato's. "And a big, rare, American-style steak, because you know how much I hate looking at them."

Was that a smile on his lips? No, couldn't be. "Exactly right."

Hikari pushed a strand of light brown hair behind her ear and effectively dissipated the building tension between the former lovers. "A salad for me, as well. And some fruit juice. I'm not very hungry."

"You don't eat enough," groused Taichi.

"You eat enough for me, big brother," Hikari smiled sweetly.

"Yeah," Taichi admitted ruefully, and studied the menu. "Hmm. Everything looks so good. I'll have...onion rings, a hot dog, nah, make that two, cheese fries, ketchup, a Coke, maybe an eggroll, and...hmm...they have lasagna! All right! That too!"

Hikari smiled, a little embarrassed at her sibling's vacuum-cleaner habits. "'Niichan...Agumon's not here to help you eat."

"Hmm. You're right. No eggroll."

He punched in the order and waited. A few minutes later, the food started coming out of a small window in the side of the wall.

Taichi attacked his meal(s), utterly unchanged from when he was eleven when it came to food. Sora smiled tenderly at her best friend. Her eyes shifted of their own will to Yamato, who had the same look of fond amusement on his face.

Their eyes met. Instantly, his face lost any expression and he jammed his steak knife into his own meal.

Sora sipped her tea and felt the bitter taste roll around her mouth.

"Hey, Sora?" Taichi said around a mouthful of...Sora didn't even want to know what he was eating at the moment.

"Yes?" Sora asked politely, and took another sip of her tea.

"What IS your grudge against Yamato, anyway?"

It took all of Sora's self-control not to spit her tea across the table. She looked desperately to Hikari for help in covering up Taichi's terrble faux pas, but Hikari was studying her salad with intense -- and, Sora realized, totally fake -- interest. A horrible idea wormed into Sora's head.

I was set up. By the Yagami siblings.

"Can we discuss this some other time?" Sora asked, pitching her voice low.

"Now would be as good a time as any," Taichi shrugged.

Sora chanced a glance at Yamato. His eyes, too, were focused on his meal. Sora glanced down at his plate and gulped as she noticed the steak was being hacked into tiny shreds.

"Because he lied to me," Sora whispered.

Yamato's knife clattered to the table.

"How so?" Taichi asked, his attention now entirely focused on Sora.

"He...he said he would never leave me. And then he did." Sora felt herself curl up and grow smaller as the words left her mouth. She felt as though she was growing younger, no longer the self-assured woman but the conflicted tomboyish girl.

No one spoke for a moment.

"I never left you," Yamato said, his low voice piercing the silence. "I never..."

"You left me for a year and a half. Touma wasn't even born, and you just abandoned me." The words fell like ice chips, shattering as they touched the air.

"I told you when we were children about how my dream has always been to be among the stars. I can't let go of my dreams for anyone, not even you."

"So, your dream is to be totally isolated from the rest of the world, even the people whom you love most?" Sora snapped.

"That's not fair!"

"Neither are you!"

"Calm down!" shouted Taichi. "You two are such idiots, you know? And you're supposed to be my best friends...friendship and love, huh. You don't even know the meaning of the words."

Both Yamato and Sora looked shocked at Taichi's outburst.

"What my brother was trying to say," Hikari inserted sweetly, but with a hint of steel in her voice, "is that neither of you are acting like friends or lovers. In fact, you're both acting stupidly. Please stop it."

Sora bit her lip and forced herself to relax. She wished Piyomon was with her. Piyomon was the person who understood her the best, who realized exactly why Sora had divorced from Yamato. He didn't care, period, he couldn't care about her the way she loved him, the way she always had and always will, if he'd abandon her when she was barely a month pregnant to go up to some dead rock in space...he couldn't care about her, then, if that's how he could treat her, as someone who could be thrown away for his dream...she'd always included him in her dream, always.

But Piyomon wasn't here. Piyomon had wanted to come, but couldn't; she'd had a previous engagement, a 'date' if you would phrase it so crudely, and who said that digimon couldn't have lives outside their partners? Not Sora, no, no, no, Piyomon, have a great time, don't worry about me.

"So, Yamato," Hikari said casually. "Why did you leave Sora?"

"She divorced me," he muttered.

"Seperated," Sora corrected. "Trial seperation."

"Like that means a thing."

"I don't mean the divorce. You got this offer to go up into space, why did you accept it?" Hikari needled. Sora looked from Hikari to Taichi. Taichi's attention was concentrated on his second hot dog, which was smothered in ketchup and mustard and relish and...yuuuuck.

So this isn't just for me. It's for Yamato as well. Who needs counseling, when you have the Yagami family nearby?

"I...it was offered," Yamato said slowly. "I would have been an idiot not to have accepted the offer, it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

"Was going up into space that important to you?" Hikari wondered.

"It wasn't just going up into space, it was being able to be in space. To be among the stars. To...it was an experience that...even if Sora will never forgive me for it, it was worth it." Yamato deliberately let his eyes trail over Sora's face, which was as frozen as a marble statue.

"You said it was your dream to be among the stars. Wasn't it was your dream to be a rock star?" Hikari said, confused. Probably an act, Sora thought distantly.

"Well, I was that," Yamato answered after a few moments. "A man's dream can change."

"I, personally, always thought your dream was to have a family that wasn't ripped into pieces," Hikari shrugged casually, and delicately ate a bite of her salad. "I could be wrong, though."

Yamato flushed an angry red. "Why haven't you married my little brother yet, Hikari?"

Hikari froze. A hit, a hit, Sora thought frantically.

"That's not the point," Hikari protested. "Your brother loved Hanae. I wouldn't stand in their way. You...you love Sora. But you can't admit it because you're too proud."

Yamato looked as though he was about to snap something, but Sora cut him off.

"You used to sing," she said quietly. "Did I stop you from singing?"

It was Yamato's turn to freeze in place. "I...no, Sora, that's not true."

She went on as if she hadn't heard him. "If it is, then...just tell me."

Sora was the original bearer of love. In the time she'd held it, she'd evolved many theories about it, just like Miyako had. Unlike Miyako, she'd never really understood the passion of it, the overwhelming aspects. The love that Sora understood best was the slow, quiet, steady love that bloomed in one's heart, the love that could never be forced to anyone, the love that only blossomed when given freely and without question.

Words formed in her mind, words that sounded oddly like Piyomon's tender voice was speaking them. If you love someone, don't drive them away. Don't turn your love into something difficult. Don't let your own emotions confuse him. Let him speak without being interrupted, let yourself feel and not fight, and you'll form a love that can't be broken!

"Sora, I...I won't let you believe that. I..." Yamato looked frustrated. "Taichi, Hikari, can you excuse us for a moment?" Without waiting for permission, he'd already stood up and walked Sora away from the table.

The Yagami siblings watched the two walk away.

"How come they always walk away, just when they're getting to the good part?" murmured Hikari. "How am I ever going to see how it's done?"

Taichi looked at his younger sister oddly. "Hikari...you know, if you'd wanted...I mean...Takeru would have never married Hanae if you'd objected, or if you'd said anything...you could...I mean...."

Hikari shook her head and smiled a bit bitterly. "I didn't want to be Takaishi Hikari."

"Well, you could have kept your maiden name."

"You don't get it...I couldn't marry Takeru-kun."

"Why not?"

She bit her lip. "'Anata no itami wa... watashi no kanashimi yo. Your pain is my suffering.' I couldn't...I couldn't let my pain make Takeru-kun suffer. It would kill me to know that he hurts because of me."

Taichi stared at his sister. She had that Look on her face, a look which should never be seen on a mortal. It made her look like a young girl and an old woman at the same time. Too wise for her own good.

After a while, he spoke again. "You know...it didn't work."

Hikari nodded. Her smile was twisted, bitter. "I know."

---

Yagami Kakeru knocked at the door to the Hida apartment.

"Who is it?" called out a sweet, clear voice. Himeko-chan.

"Kakeru," he said.

"Kakeru-kun!" she exclaimed, and opened the door. Himeko-chan looked cute, as she always did, in her pale pink shirt and long, flowered skirt. Her Upamon was clutched in her arms, and Mikomi-chan's Poromon was sleeping on its head. "What are you doing here? Come in!"

Kakeru walked in, although he would have preferred staying outside. He didn't want to make a big production of this. "Is Mikomi-chan here?" he asked nervously.

Himeko-chan frowned. "No...she went on a bike ride. Why?" She walked into the living room, and Kakeru followed her.

"I checked at her home, and she wasn't there, so I figured she'd be here. I just...I just wanted to talk with her."

"Sit down," Himeko-chan said. "Please." Kakeru sat.

Himeko-chan smiled cheerfully. "Well...Papa and Mama took Osamu-kun and Ari-kun to the park, because they wanted to talk without Mikomi-chan or me hearing, but Ari-kun's a baby so no one cares what he hears and everyone thinks that Osamu-kun's got something wrong with him, so no one cares what he thinks, either. Then Mikomi-chan went on a bike ride to 'somewhere', without telling me where AND leaving Poromon with me, 'cause she figured that I'd call Papa on his cell and have him pick her up before she gets to her destination, and because this is Mikomi-chan we're talking about, she's probably going to stick her head in the lion's mouth and heading to Izumi-san's house." Her expression didn't change at all during her little spiel, and her voice remained perkily cute.

Kakeru stared at the younger girl. He'd known she was smart and perfect at practically everything...but he'd never known she was that perceptive. "Why...why would Mikomi-chan leave Poromon behind?"

Himeko-chan shrugged. "I don't know what she wants. Mikomi-chan's often blinded by the righteousness of her actions and doesn't really think about what she's actually doing. Maybe she doesn't want Poromon caught in the crossfire."

Kakeru grinned a little at this absolutely accurate description of his good friend. "So...you think she's going to Izumi-san's house?"

Himeko widened her green eyes theatrically. "Don't let her know I told you! She'll be so mad!" She gave a dramatic sigh. "But please, Kakeru-kun, don't go try to catch up with her...I have a feeling Mikomi-chan needs to talk to Izumi-san, alone."

"I wasn't -- " Heroic visions of himself rescuing Mikomi-chan from the wicked Izumi-san danced through his head. " -- planning anything," he ended weakly.

Himeko-chan cocked her head. "Kakeru-kun...may I ask you a question?"

"Sure," shrugged Kakeru, already wondering about the foolishness of coming here.

"Why...why do you like Mikomi-chan?"

Kakeru gaped. "What...what do you mean, why? Like her...I..."

Himeko-chan looked unimpressed. "I asked you a question. Please stop sputtering and answer it. I mean, is it because you think she's pretty, or she's talented, or what?"

Kakeru blinked, and considered possible reasons why Himeko-chan was asking this type of question. Hmm. Maybe she likes Mori-kun, and thinks that I can give her an -- an insight? -- to a guy's mind.

"I like her because...because even though she can be rude and thoughtless, and she's sometimes self-centered, whenever I talk to her...she gives me her full attention, and she always makes me feel like...like I'm in first place."

Himeko-chan nodded. "Do any other girls make you feel like this?"

"Hmm." Kakeru thought for a moment. He held up a finger. "My mother!"

Himeko sweatdropped. "Oh."

Kakeru checked his watch. Uh-oh, Mom will be home soon... "I gotta go, Himeko-chan."

"I'll walk you out." Himeko stood up. Kakeru followed her. She opened the door, and Kakeru stepped out.

"See you," she said coolly.

"See ya. Oh, and good luck with Mori-kun!" he said cheerfully as the door was closing.

"Mori-kun?" she repeated blankly. "Why would I care about him?"

Kakeru facevaulted.

---

Ichijouji Mikomi moved her hand to knock on the solid oak door of the Izumi residence, but stopped before she made a sound. She backed away, and started walking her bike away from the house.

However, before she could leave, a large black car pulled up in the driveway, and a red-headed man stepped out. Mikomi watched in mixed fascination and annoyance as he walked straight past her without even glancing at her, as if blue-haired girls on his front walk were a normal occurance.

Izumi Koushirou was about to open his door when the girl's voice rang out.

"Are you just going to ignore me or something?"

He turned around, shocked.

"Mi...Mikomi...san," he said, sounding almost disappointed. His black eyes focused on her. "You...you sound much like your mother."

Mikomi fiddled a little anxiously with a stray lock of her blue hair. "I know."

They looked at each other for a while, studying. Preparing.

Koushirou looked at Mikomi and saw the Miyako he'd known in his youth. Except for the dark blue hair pulled back into a loose braid, she could have been an exact duplicate -- the same eyes magnified by the overlarge glasses, the same high-pitched voice, the same determined stance.

Koushirou wasn't sure when he'd started to care so much for Miyako; it was sometime in his teens, he was sure, but he couldn't pinpoint the exact moment where the friendship he'd had for the underclassman and fellow Chosen had transformed into something else.

At that moment, he realized that no matter what would happen between Miyako and himself in the future, if he never saw her again, if she refused to speak to him for eternity, or if -- he refused to dream of a happier scenario, because if he started hoping, he'd never be able to deal with the eventual reality -- he couldn't erase the affection he felt, for both herself and her younger incarnation standing in front of him. And he didn't want to.

Mikomi looked at Koushirou and saw a tired man. There were dark shadows lurking underneath his eyes and a slump to his shoulders that she instantly realized had been put there by her mother -- and, indirectly, herself. Every empathetic bone in her body cried out in pity for him.

Mikomi had come to Koushirou in search of answers, for however much she'd disliked him, he was one of the few adults who would give her an honest answer. She realized, however, that she would have to give him some answers as well.

"You know, my mother doesn't hate you," she said in a conversational tone. Koushirou's head jerked, before remaining his normal calm. Mikomi sensed the change in him, though. He seemed to have already cast off some of the pain surrounding him already.

"I don't think she hates you at all, really," Mikomi went on. "She was just upset by whatever she found out in your, um, conversation. At least, that's what Hawkmon told me when I called him She's been holed up in conversations with Mimi-san, I think, and she'll probably call Aunt Hikari and Sora-san soon, if she hasn't already."

Koushirou merely blinked. "Were you sent over here to convey that information, or what?"

"Oh, I wasn't sent, not really. I...just...kinda...came."

"Riding your bike the whole way?"

"Yes."

"That's pretty far. Did you tell anyone?"

"Noo...I just wanted to talk with you. Mom won't miss me for a while."

Koushirou turned towards the door. "I'm going to call your mother."

"Are you guys still speaking?" Mikomi couldn't resist snapping that at him. It had the desired effect, after all. He stopped in his tracks. "Look, Izumi-san. I want...I want to know some things that my mother won't tell me. So, I'll tell you some things that my mother won't tell you, and you tell me some things my mother won't tell me, and we'll be even, kay?"

Koushirou looked over his shoulder at her. "That seems reasonable."

---

Much to his surprise, Sora hadn't fought against Yamato half-dragging her from the restaurant. They stood in an almost deserted alley between the restaurant and another building, keeping company with a large, rusted dumpster and a few half-wild cats.

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. Yamato spent his time studying Sora's features. He hadn't been able to look at her -- really look at her -- for some time.

Something in Yamato's chest twinged.

She's still beautiful.

The silence stretched for quite some time. Yamato tried to pull his thoughts together, to focus. However, he kept getting sidetracked.

Finally, Sora spoke. "You never answered my question," she said quietly.

"Huh?"

"Did I make you stop singing?"

Yamato's eyes widened. "Sora..."

"I just want to know."

"You didn't," he said distantly. "In fact, if anything, it was your absence that made me stop."

Sora crossed her arms, then uncrossed them. "I don't get it." Her eyes flickered to him, and then to the sky. "I thought...I thought I made you unhappy."

Yamato shook his head. "Of course not!" He stared at her. "Why would you ever think that?"

Sora took in a deep breath. "Mimi," she said. "When Mimi and Jyou divorced...there were the same warning signs as there are for us."

"Warning signs?" Yamato said blankly.

"He...he was too focused on his work. He didn't pay attention to her anymore. He didn't...Mimi felt like Jyou didn't care anymore. And...well, if he did care," Sora said primly, her lips pressed tightly together, "he didn't seem to show it very well."

Yamato reflected that women were women and men were men and at some points, they would never be able to cross that chasm. Sora had spent most of her time consoling Mimi, although Mimi had bounced right back and had married some American guy -- Yamato could never remember the names -- a year later, divorcing him almost as quickly, and marrying some other guy bare months afterwards. On the other hand, Jyou had staggered around in a haze for nearly a full year -- to the point that he, Gomamon, and Taichi had kept a discreet suicide watch -- and had never really recovered.

"Jyou has said that it was the worst decision he ever made, to let Mimi walk out of his life," Yamato countered.

"He still let her go," Sora said fiercely. How could Yamato defend that jerk? He hadn't listened to Mimi's hysterical crying, to the curses she cried at the moon. Mimi's life had deteriorated so horribly, and she couldn't find anyone who truly loved her, while Jyou just kept on doing the same things he always did, barely seeming to care that Mimi had left. "If he'd said one word to her -- if he'd ever let her know that she was needed, that she was cared for, that she was loved -- she would have never left."

"He was too shy to let her know. Or maybe he was too proud -- I never really knew."

"He still should have told her. That's a man's job."

"As it's a woman's job to abandon the one she loves, and never try to decipher reasons for 'why?'" Yamato asked tightly.

"Who can figure out a man's reasons?" Sora shot back.

"His wife -- if she bothers to try."

"Try me."

Yamato reached out with his hands and gently touched Sora's face, forcing her to meet his eyes. She didn't resist.

"I'm not...I'm not...I'm always restless, you know. And I'm tempermental. And I...I like to explore, to do things, to live instead of letting life happen, to, to -- "

"To sow your wild oats?"

"Yes. No! No! I don't want to sow any oats...Sora, you've got a perverse mind."

Sora shrugged, looking faintly embarrassed. "I assumed...I thought you were, you know, cheating on me. You never seemed to be content with just me."

Yamato stared, lowering his hands. "If I am one thing, and one thing only, then I am loyal. I have never, ever, ever, thought of cheating on you."

"I'm...sorry I suspected you," she said in a small voice. "But...Yamato, I can't see any way of binding you to me. Of keeping you happy. It seems that...that you might be happier cut off from me entirely."

"You can't bind someone," Yamato objected.

"You can wish to make them happy," Sora retorted. "You can...try protecting them..."

"I understand what you mean. But, Sora...you can't force anyone to stay."

"I thought..." Her voice was cracking, broken. "I thought I was helping you, by letting you go. But it didn't help at all, it just made me more bitter. And it got you upset, and Tori and Touma..." Her voice turned to a whisper. "I'm so sorry."

Without thinking about it, his arms encircled her slender body, giving her comfort. Her head was pillowed on his shoulder. She kept whispering "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," over and over again. Yamato rubbed her back gently, trying to comfort her.

"It's never too late to start again," he told her firmly. "Tonight I'll stay with you, and we'll talk, and we'll have our family reunited. We can always make up for the sins of the past."

She lifted her head up and met his eyes, her face tear-streaked. "Really?"

"Really," he told her, and bent his head down, not that far because she was so close, and kissed her. She kissed him back, and Yamato thought wildly that heaven couldn't be too far behind.

In the entrance to the alley, two siblings watched, and smiled.

---

Mikomi sat at the large table in the cozy Izumi kitchen. Izumi-san's young daughter, Hitomi, sat next to her, obviously awed at her proxmity to 'Osamu-chan's Oneechan', but not quite being a pest.

Izumi-san himself was making tea. Physically making tea, which was something that surprised Mikomi, as she'd assumed someone of Izumi-san's importance would have a cook, or a cooking program, to make everything for him. But no, no cook, not even his mother, who was sitting at the end of the table and reading, her eyes moving rapidly along the screen.

"Tea's ready," Izumi-san announced.

What Mikomi had thought was an incredibly ugly statue buzzed into the air and became recognizeable as Izumi-san's digimon. "Food?" the bug grated as he settled down at the table.

"Of course, Tentomon," Izumi-san said warmly. He wasn't quite smiling, but there was more cheerfulness in his face than Mikomi would have guessed possible.

Izumi-san gently placed a steaming cup and saucer in front of his mother, then in front of Mikomi, Hitomi, and Tentomon. Hitomi and Tentomon also got cookies. Finally, Izumi-san sat down, directly across from Mikomi, with his own cup of tea and opened up a small computer link.

"What are you doing?" Mikomi asked impatiently.

Izumi-san looked up, surprised. "I'm checking my mail."

"Why?"

"Because I have mail to be checked," he shrugged (rudely, thought Mikomi, who didn't like being ignored.) "Oh. Mimi sent me a letter," he said, and blinked. "Odd."

"Mimi-san?" Mikomi asked, eyes brightening. "Read it out loud!"

Izumi-san gave her a dry look. "Why do you want to read my personal correspondence?"

"Because it's Mimi-san," Mikomi explained patiently, "and she's probably been talking with my mother, so she'll be telling you, so it's important that I hear it, too."

"..."

"Just read it," Mikomi said, and refrained from sticking out her tongue, or any such mature displays of temper.

Izumi-san sighed and started reading. "'Hey, Koushie-kun -- '"

"She calls you Koushie-kun?" Mikomi asked, on the verge of laughter.

"Yes, well, that's Mimi for you." He cleared his throat and read on. "'From what I've heard, you've been attempting to communicate with a member of the human race outside your immediate family. Good for you! However, blackmailing a woman and then embarrassing her is not the best way to win her heart. Lucky for you, this woman happens to be incredibly skilled in dealing with icky sludge-slime, and hasn't been turned off by your incredible lack of courting skills. However, she is feeling very lost, very betrayed, and very alone right now. I say seize the day, so grab your chance before you lose it forever. Again. Love, Mimi. P.S. If you screw up again I'll never speak to you for the rest of my life, except maybe to scream at.'"

Mikomi was practically bursting with questions. "Was she -- she was talking about my mother, right?"

Izumi-san didn't answer for a few moments. Then he looked at Hitomi and his mother. "Can you please give Mikomi-san and me some privacy for a few minutes?"

"But, Daddy -- " Hitomi started.

Izumi-san cut him off. "Please. I need to speak to Mikomi-san in private for a few minutes."

"Let's go, Hitomi-chan," added Izumi-san's mother, standing up gracefully. "We can always listen at the door."

Izumi-san sweatdropped.

After they'd left, Izumi-san turned to Tentomon. The bug-like digimon sniffed. "I hope you're not thinking of asking me to leave."

"I wouldn't dream of it, pal," Izumi-san promised. "Anyway, you know pretty much everything I'm going to say."

"I'd hope so," Tentomon said haughtily.

Izumi-san grinned, carressed the top of Tentomon's head in a brief affectionate gesture, and turned back to Mikomi. His face turned deathly serious. "I understand you have some questions for me?" he asked calmly.

Mikomi felt like her mind was congealing. How dare he mock me! "Y-yeah..." She bit her lip. "Mimi-san's letter was talking about my mother, right?"

"Yes."

"What did Mimi-san mean she said you blackmailed my mother?"

Izumi-san swallowed. "Well...shortly before your father's death, he'd finalized his will with Iori."

"My father knew he was going to die?"

Izumi-san shook his head. "No. But he knew that being a policeman is dangerous, and that life is never guaranteed. He'd wanted to make sure that his loved ones were cared for."

"Oh."

"Anyway. In his will, he'd left me a package. Contained in that package was his memoirs."

"Memoirs?"

"Kind of like a journal, which he kept for years. Ken wrote in them fairly sporadically, except when he needed to let out his feelings and he couldn't share them with anyone else. They cover the time from...shortly after he stopped being the Kaizer to right after Osamu's birth. Anyway. Ken left them to me, and didn't -- to my knowledge -- give a copy to anyone else."

"Not even my mother?"

"Not even Miyako. I...she knew that I had these memoirs, though, and she wanted to read them. I...lied her, and said that Ken didn't want her to read the memoirs until a year after his death."

"Why?"

"Because I realized that they held painful material. Ken was very honest in his memoirs. He didn't sugarcoat a thing about his innermost thoughts and feelings. I thought that it would be too much of a shock for Miyako to read the memoirs only a week into her mourning year. I wanted her to live through the year and mourn naturally before being confronted with Ken's secrets." He sighed. "Then I, yes, blackmailed Miyako into working with me for a year. I don't know why."

"I do," said Tentomon suddenly.

"And why's that?"

"You'd completely seperated yourself from Miyako and her constant reminders of the painful memories you'd locked inside yourself for the last eighteen years. Your natural altruism was the reason behind your original job offer to Miyako. But, after eighteen years of waiting, she'd suddenly walked back into your life, quite literally. You were going to do whatever you could to keep her back in your life, if only at a subconscious level."

Izumi-san looked a bit disturbed. "Thank you for that insight, Tentomon. I think."

"And because you worked so closely with her, you fell in love?" Mikomi asked skeptically.

Izumi-san coughed. "'Fell in love' is not a good term. I think a better term might be 'awakened dormant love.' I'd never really stopped loving Miyako, despite it all. I just buried it."

"Izumi-san...what happened last night?"

He drummed his fingers on the table, idly. "I had a bad idea. I followed up on it. Jyou got drunk and spilled the beans -- I don't know how he figured it out."

"Well, I had it figured out," Mikomi couldn't resist adding.

"Mm, true. Anyway. Miyako asked if it was true, I said yes, it was, she followed me up to my room, we talked..." Izumi-san hesitated, and then went on. "I...I had kept the memoirs in a locked room, which was only accessible by a key I wore on a chain around my neck. I gave the key to Miyako. Then I left. I don't know what happened afterwards."

Koushirou didn't mention that while the door had been locked that morning, the key and chain were gone, and he couldn't find a trace of either, no matter how hard he searched. He also kept the more private details of the night before locked away in his head.

Mikomi swallowed. "What are the secrets about my father that you don't want my mother to know?"

Izumi-san shook his head solemnly. "I'm not telling you. You might complain bitterly about this, but I refuse to tell you. I'm the original bearer of the burden of Knowledge, Mikomi-san. I believe that knowledge should be shared. But...I also know when knowledge cannot be given freely. If I tell you...you will never, ever, ever forget. And it would twist your feelings and beliefs. Sometimes, it is better off to not know." Mikomi knew he was serious, and remained quiet. "Your mother has the right to tell you, but I doubt she will. That's her perogative."

Mikomi thought about what he was saying. He was right -- there were some things that were simply not to be known by mortal man or woman. And he seemed to love and care for her mother...

She didn't know if they'd get married. She didn't know if they'd even date. (And wasn't it disgusting, thinking of forty-somethings dating?!)

All that she knew was that her mother's heart was her mother's heart. She couldn't demand -- anything. All she could do was hope that her mother would be happy, no matter what she chose.

Suddenly, Mikomi heard familiar footsteps in the hall behind her.

That doesn't mean I can't help them choose the right path, she thought with a smirk.

"Izumi-san," she said, waking him from his thoughts. "Tell me why you love my mother."

He blinked. "Tell you why I love Miyako?"

"Yes."

He met her eyes and gulped. Good. He's the one nervous, for once. "Well...I don't know why," he said awkwardly. "It's like asking why the earth rotates to the east and not the west or south, or why pi calculates to 3.14 instead of 3.15. Miyako's just...a good person. She makes you feel better for having been around her." The footsteps slowed, and then stopped. "She's genuinely warm inside -- she's loyal -- she's got no pretenses about her. She's honest. And she's...she's Miyako. And I love her."

The door creaked open. Miyako was on the other side.

Mikomi smiled maniacally, stood up, and gave a quick bow. "Thank you for your time, Izumi-san. I'm going to go...play...with Hitomi-chan now." She quickly darted around her mother's figure in the doorway.

Tentomon, after a moment's hesitation, flew away as well.

The two adults stared at each other for a long time.

"Come in," Koushirou said finally.

Miyako did so, and sat down at the place her daughter had so recently vacated. The door closed behind her.

They were alone.

---

They stared at each other for a long time, neither wanting to be the first to speak. Miyako's heart was fluttering quickly, feeling like a bird in a cage, desperate to get out. Koushirou had passed through all stages of panic to some weird reservoir of calm. He recognized this would be the last chance he'd get, and he was determined to use it.

When the silence was finally broken, it was by them both, speaking at the same time.

"I wanted to ask you -- " Miyako started.

"Why did you come?" Koushirou overlapped, almost accusingly.

They locked eyes. Miyako was the first to look away. She studied the table for a moment, an eternity.

"I came because I had to give you back something." Miyako reached into her purse and pulled out the chain and key. She threw them gently across the table. Koushirou caught them, turned them around.

"Thank you," he said. "I suppose this means you used them."

"Yes."

"And you read his memoirs."

"Yes."

"I am sorry," Koushirou said with genuine warmth. Using one gentle finger, he lifted up Miyako's chin so that she was, once again, facing him. Her eyes had filled with tears. "I'm so sorry," he repeated. With his other hand, he withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.

Miyako removed her glasses and wiped her eyes. "So what he said is the truth, right?"

"There are many different shades of the truth," Koushirou said. "Ken was honest...but not complete."

Startled, the handkerchief dropped from her hands. Miyako looked at him with naked eyes. "Huh?"

Koushirou swallowed and went on. "Ken...even though you were not the person he loved best in the world, he still loved you. A man can love more than one person, you know. He loved you, and his children, and Wormmon, and..."

"But I was just a substitute," Miyako said. "He didn't love me for being me, he loved me because...because I was there, and available, and I..." The tears started up again.

Koushirou reached across the table, grabbed her shoulders, and actually shook her. "Don't you ever say that, Miyako," he said fiercely. "Don't you ever, ever, say that you're 'just' anything, much less a substitute. You're one of the bravest, most beautiful people I know. Ken could have had anyone, anyone, why do you think he chose you? Because you were important to him. Because you could help preserve some of his happiness. Because he did love you. He loved you enough to never, ever let on that he loved someone else. He never hurt you, physically or emotionally. He showed his love by protecting you from his private lies. He stayed with you, because you were important to him. You were loved on your own right -- never, ever think anything else different. You were loved for more reasons than being a substitute for Daisuke."

The momentary rage drained out of him, and he slumped into his chair. I'm finished. Gone. My one chance, and it's turned into me defending Ken -- Ken?! Why should I defend Ken? He's the one that hurt Miyako so much! How could he do this to her? How come he gave me his memoirs in the first place? How come Miyako had to learn about them?

Miyako was still staring at Koushirou with wide eyes. She started speaking, rather hesitantly. "You said...he loved me, so he protected me, even though it was built on a lie."

"Yes," Koushirou said, staring at the ceiling.

"So...even though it was built on a lie, the love is still there?"

"Yes."

"Then...you must love me a great deal, to have protected me and to have lied to me to such an extent."

Koushirou's brain shut down. "Yes. Yes, I suppose I do."

"I...I heard most of your reasons for loving me before, I'm afraid."

"I think your daughter set me up for that."

"I think my daughter did, too. But...I think she had a good intention in mind."

"'The road to Hell is paved in good intentions,'" Koushirou quoted gravely.

"You're just upset because a thirteen-year-old outsmarted you."

Koushirou sensed the time for a tactical retreat. "Well. I think it's my turn for a question."

"Yes?" Miyako waited.

"Why...why don't you hate me?" he asked, and swallowed. "I lied to you, blackmailed you, manipulated you...you have every reason to hate me. Why don't you?"

Miyako blinked. "I can't hate you. I wanted to hate you, but...I could never hate you, even when you...even when I thought you betrayed me." She gave him a hesitant smile. "It wasn't totally your fault, after all. I was partially to blame, all those years ago. It's never as clear-cut when looking through the glasses of memory, huh?"

"It's not," Koushirou agreed.

Shyly, Miyako stood up and sat down next to Koushirou. Her fingers reached for his hands. He let her hold them. "I...I don't want to hurt anymore, because of mistakes I've made in the past."

"Nor do I," Koushirou agreed.

"I...I wondered...I want..." She took in a deep breath. "Koushirou, will you marry me?"

Koushirou would have fallen off the chair if not for Miyako's warm grasp. A thounsand thoughts rushed through his head. This is what you wanted, this is what you've been dreaming of, don't let it go away, don't let her go away...but give her time, still, if you bind her to you too tightly you'll lose everything.

"Yes...and no," he said firmly.

"Huh?"

"I...I would love to marry you, to be yours and only yours, until the end of forever and back," he said quietly. "But...I refuse to marry you just because you want to snap back at Ken. 'Ha-ha, I found someone to love, even without you.' I refuse to do that...because it's not fair to either of us."

"I wasn't planning tha -- " Miyako started, but his mouth silenced hers.

"However," he went on, "in a year, if you still feel the same way towards me...then of course, yes."

Miyako smiled. Koushirou smiled back. Nothing could interrupt them now.

Except for a sudden loud beep.

"What's that?" Miyako asked curiously.

"I've got mail," Koushirou said. He batted at the computer link, turning it off. "Not now."

"I would have never thought that you'd put anyone before your e-mail," Miyako laughed giddily.

"People change," he smiled back. "For the better, I hope."

Miyako murmured something quietly, and smiled even wider.

"What did you say?" Koushirou asked curiously.

"I said that I can't hate you -- I could never hate you -- because I love you too much."

"I love you, too," Koushirou replied, and to his delight found that the words so difficult to say years ago came easily to his lips now.

A long silence, a crystalline moment.

"I think some of our relatives are waiting for us," Miyako said in an undertone.

Koushirou considered this. "They can wait."

~end!~

Oh, wow, that was sappy. ^_^;; However, it's not over yet! Go onwards -- to the epilogue!