Third chapter! Go Yamasuke go! Now, if you have better things to do, don't read this. If you do, you will waste five precious moments of your life reading this, while you could be doing something useful, like curing cancer. So, read at your own ability to waste time.

d/c: I don't own Digimon.

Chapter Three: A New Approach

Yamato groaned. It was the next day and Daisuke was coming over for their next cooking lesson. He still hadn't cleaned the smell out of the apartment, although luckily none of the neighbours complained. Of course, his father had. He had also complained that the kitchen looked too over protected. But after it was explained that he was attempting to teach Daisuke Motomiya how to cook, his father turned white and said he should have double duty plastic. So a second layer had been added, just in case. Of course, if the fire managed to melt it, then it would just cause the house to burn down, but he was trying to be optimistic. Which was hard, considering the walking disaster was about to come over.

At 4:01 the doorbell rang. Yamato frowned when he opened the door, and Daisuke stood there, looking at him.

"Konnichiwa."


"Late."

"I know, and I love you too, Yama." Yamato sighed. Daisuke didn't really didn't seem to care. Well, he'd make him care.

"From now on, each minute that you are late results in 15 extra minutes with me." Daisuke's eyes became wide.

"But that's not fair!" he whined. Yamato's eyes narrowed dangerous, a sign that he was pissed off.

"You are lucky I'm even letting you into my house after yesterday, never less teaching you how to cook." Daisuke sighed.


"Fine. But do you really want to spend extra time with me?" the boy asked, hoping to change his mind.

"If it makes you miserable then yes." Daisuke frowned, and was about to open his mouth in protest, but Yamato applied his hand to it, and crouched so that he was at the same level as the smaller boy.

"I don't want to hear another word out of your mouth or else it's going to become an hour each minute you're late." Daisuke groaned, but otherwise was silent. Yamato removed his hand and stood up again.

"Good. Now," he led Daisuke into the kitchen again. "we're going to try a different approach this time. We are going to use a real oven, and a real recipe, and I will be watching you like a hawk while you make it. For each mistake you make that is how many times we will make the recipe until you get it right." Daisuke wanted to groan, but ignored the urge. "Do you get the picture?" Yamato asked, staring into Daisuke's chocolate eyes. Daisuke nodded. Yamato gave a smirk.

"Good. Now, since I am not a totally heartless bastard, we won't make carrot cake or something equally as disgusting. We will be making chocolate chip cookies." Daisuke eyes widened and he grinned. With a second he had latched himself onto the elder boys' waist, and looked about ready to cry.

"I love you man!" he exclaimed. Yamato looked down at the smaller boy, a little shocked, as he tried to pry the boy off.

"Um, O.K., but could you love me somewhere else?" he asked. Daisuke them unlatched himself. For some reason, Yamato felt a little bit of a loss when he let go...

but shook it off and proceeded to get the ingrediants. Daisuke looked around the kitchen as he waited, determined not to kill anyone. Or blow up the apartment. Or the entire building. Or get complaints form the neighbours. Or release toxins into the air. Or cause another disease. Or electrocute the entire building. Or think up another dance craze. Or become a Barney fan. Or get killed by Yamato. Or kill Yamato. Or..

"Wait a minute, Yamato?" he asked.

"Yeah?" The hollow sound of the cupboard answered him. Kind of creepy, Daisuke decided.

"How are going to taste anything I actually make?" Yamato reappeared, staring down at the child.

"Well, assuming that either of us actually live for you to make anything, we'll invite Taichi over. He has a stomach of iron." Daisuke rolled his eyes.

"Oh thank you for your overwhelming confidence." Yamato gave a cheesy little grin, not usually seen on his face.

"Iie do itamashita." Daisuke sweatdropped. Life just wasn't fair...

"Yeah, life's a bitch, isn' it?" Yamato asked. Daisuke stared at him. Oh no, could Yamato read his...

"No, I can't read your mind." came the reply. Daisuke stopped thinking as best he could.

"Now," Yamato had everything laid out on the counter, including the cookbook. "What does it tell you to do first?" he asked. Daisuke stared at it, as thought it just might kill him on contact. But when Yamato coughed, he decided to take the chance of death. It was better then facing an angry Yamato.

"Preheat the oven to 350 degrees." he read aloud. Yamato nodded. Daisuke continued to simply stare at the cook book for another five minutes. The boy stood there, staring. This made Daisuke incredibly nervous. Finally, Yamato lost his patients.

"Here's the god damn oven!" he exclaimed, twisting the knob on it. Daisuke sniffled, but got over it.

"Next, it tells me to add the baking powder." Daisuke mumbled. Again he stared at the cook book. "Yama?"

"Don't call me Yama. If you do, that will result in 15 extra minutes." Daisuke cringed. He couldn't be late for soccer practice again...

"Damn."

"And so will swearing." Daisuke rolled his eyes, and continued to muttered, despite the warning signals going off in his brain.

"It's not like that's what you don't do all day."

"That will also earn you 15 minutes."

"Crap."

"Don't push my patients, Motomiya." Daisuke got the hint to shut up. Yamato sighed as he pushed the box over towards the boy. Daisuke simply stared at it as he did at the cookbook. Yamato was very close to jumping out the window. Or throwing Daisuke out of it.

'God help us if he makes it out without one bodily injury from me.' he thought. Daisuke then started pouring the entire box into the chocolatechip bag.

Yamato immediately jumped over to the boy and grabbed everything out of his hands. Daisuke glared as he held his hand.

"Whaddya do that for?!" he demanded. Yamato glared back with equal force. You know, the totally kawaii glare look.

"You add the freaking baking powder in a bowl!" the blond sneered. Daisuke got his 'oh' look on his face. Yamato sighed as he put everything down on the counter. He knew Daisuke still didn't get it.

"Let's try this again." The boy started smoothing his hair down, a signal that meant he was getting really frustrated. Daisuke could tell what he was feeling, and frankly wanted to run for his life. Yet, for fear of pissing Yamato off more then he already was, he stayed rooted. Funny how the second generation of courage could be so easily intimidated. Of course, this WAS Yamato they were dealing with...

"Now, where is the baking powder?" Daisuke cautiously pointed to the box he had been dumping before. "Good." Yamato said. "Now, what do we do with the baking powder?" he asked. Daisuke thought about this for a moment, and then replied.

"We pour it into the garbage and hope that it doesn't genetically mutate?" Yamato groaned, lowering his head onto the counter top with a thump of depression.

"Yes Daisuke. That is how we cook."

******************************

"Now," BANG! Yamato groaned, and turned around.

"Um, Hi." Daisuke smiled uncertainly. Yamato groaned again.


"And how did you manage to do THAT, Motomiya?" he asked. Daisuke frowned, lifting a flour covered finger into the dusty air.

"Well," but then he coughed on the air. Yamato sighed, and offered a hand to the boy. Daisuke took it...

but slipped on the floor and sent Yamato sprawling on the ground with him.

"Ophf." Daisuke groaned as Yamato's body crashed onto his. Angry blue eyes met with passive brown, their faces within inches of each other.

"Daisuke," Yamato breathed.

"U-um, yeah?" he stuttered.

"You are sweeping the crap up, you are doing the laundry and you are doing my homework for the next 5 years."

"But Yama," Daisuke coughed. "Yamato. I can't even keep up with my own work, never mind yours. The last time I did laundry the washing machine exploded and I've never seen a broom before." Yamato sighed as he got up, and sat on the poor boy's mid section.

"Copy the answers out of the back of the text book." he replied. "You can cover the cost of the washing machine or get Jun to help you, and I will show you a picture of the broom.


"Fine." Daisuke replied. "Just get off of me." Yamato raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, I don't know, Motomiya. I kind of like it like this. Here, on the floor, you cannot move, which means you cannot cause damage, which means I do not kill you, which results in the keeping on my sanity and staying out of jail. Give me one good reason I should sacrifice all that?" Daisuke shifted as uncomfortably as he could, and then smiled a weak smile up at his cooking mentor.

"Because you're fat."

***************************

"There we go." Yamato breathed a sigh of relief as he popped the batch of cookies in the oven. Daisuke was still alive. He still had his sanity. Life was good.

"Now, I'll be back." Yamato said, taking off his bad pink apron. He walked down the hall, and went out of sight.

After watching the blond leave the room, Daisuke stared at the oven. The cookies smelt good. Very good. Eating good...

He check the temperature. Maybe if he turned it up....

**********************************

Yamato just put on a clean shirt, one devoid of flower, and sneezed. The stuff had been irritating his nose. For some reason, it hadn't effected Daisuke. Of course, nothing of much really did get to him, as the poor blond had learned for the last few days. He had a feeling he could inscribe tattoos of recipes inside the boy's brain, and he still would be completely helpless. Sad. That was all he could use to describe the boy. Sad.

Suddenly, Yamato smelt something. He frowned, remember yesterday. This smelt, more, smoky...

Panic flashed across his mind. Daisuke!

************************************

Daisuke coughed, trying desperately to make his way to the sink. Of course, it would have helped if the building hadn't been on fire, but we have to learn to deal with these things. Like trying to put out the fire and air the place out before Yamato got down here.

Daisuke felt a hand on his shoulder. It just wasn't happening he guessed.

"YOU!!!!!" the rest of the conversation had very non G rated statements, as Yamato dragged both of them towards the sink.

Well, short in short, after flooding the room with the water spray, from the head of the kitchen tap, the room was once again aired out. And once again, Daisuke had proven himself to be more trouble then he was worth.

Yamato simply stared down at the nervous boy. He groaned.

"Oh Daisuke..."

************************

Next day

"Yamato! I swear, I didn't mean to flood the room! I forgot to turn the tap off, I swear!" Daisuke pouted, giving Yamato the puppy face. Yamato was as hard as ice.

"You," he said slowly. "are going to sit over in a corner, for half an hour. If you make any sudden movements, it becomes and hour. If you talk, it becomes and hour. If you mouth me off, it becomes an hour am I making myself clear?!" Daisuke sniffled lightly, the nodded his head, and went over in the direction Yamato was pointing.

The boy sat there, staring at his cooking mentor, giving him the puppy dog look. Yamato stared back, his eyes full of ice.

'Stupid baka.' he thought, sitting on the kitchen counter. 'Stupid puppy face.' Yamato glared at the boy. All in all, even Yamato had to admit he looked cute, sitting in the corner dejectedly. Of course, he always had fallen for Daisuke's type. Once he even thought he liked Taichi, but that had passed over fairly soon.

Of course, it wouldn't be logical if he had a crush of the younger boy because, in Yamato's opinion, it might as well have been child molestation. Daisuke was in what, 5th grade and he was in 9th? It was simple ludicrous. Plus, the press would sure have a field day with that, ne? 'Ishida Yamato, famous rock star, dating fifth grade boy.' Plus, what would Jun say? Actually, that would be a good idea. If Yamato said he was in love with Daisuke, she just might back off...

Yamato gave himself a mental shake and a small smile. Na. Too stupid. But it would be funny...

Daisuke on the other hand, had none of these thoughts. His simple explanation was to give Yamato the puppy face and hope his heart would soften. Of course, it didn't look that way, but he was the keeper of friendship. He had to have a weak spot for friends.

Of course, Daisuke thought idly. On the other hand, he wouldn't have exactly called the blond his friend. They were simply like office workers. They knew of each other's existence, but not much past that. Although blondes could always be found to be attractive, Daisuke found they could not be much past their looks. Takeru, for instance. Cheerfully blond. Now much other to his existence.

Then again, Yamato was much different form his brother and could be quite interesting, if found. Even Daisuke could sense there were more dimensions to him then it seemed. But, yet again, Yamato wanted to rip his guts out and hang them on the wall. Not exactly what Daisuke had in mind. So Yamato's interesting story would have to wait.

Each kept this up, until finally the half an hour was over. Yamato's watch beeped and he sighed, getting off the counter.

"Scram." he said. Daisuke simply walked out the door.

****************************

Day after that...

"Why the hell happened." Yamato asked. He was close to just strangling him right there and then.


"Um," Daisuke twiddled his thumbs, refusing to look up at the elder boy. "I thought the cookies would cook faster if I put them on a higher temperature..."

"Oh god!" Yamato slapped his forehead. He sighed. "Baka. For the love of kami!" Daisuke coughed.

"We have been baking the same damn thing for the last three days and you still can't get it! You did the same thing about a day ago and you still can't learn form it! We make mistakes and we learn from them and you can't even seem to managed to do that!" Yamato groaned again.

"Um, you just swore." Daisuke pointed out.

"So?" Yamato yelled.

"How come I can't swear?" Daisuke mumbled.

"Because it's a god damn bad habit!" Daisuke sighed, and muttered under his breath.

What am I going to do with you?" Yamato demanded. "You can't cook! You just keep blowing things up! Pretty soon you'll end up killing me!" Yamato, and even Daisuke himself, wasn't sure what it was, but something inside the keeper just snapped.

"Yeah well do you know what Yamato? You can just add cooking on to the list of things I can't do!" he snapped, suddenly just becoming vicious. His eyes held a fire that Yamato had never seen before, and frankly, it scared him.

Yamato took a step back, and frowned. "Daisuke?.."

"Just shut up!" he snapped once again. "I'm sick and tired of always being told I'm worthless and that I can't do anything because you know what? I know that! I know I'll just wind up becoming some stupid slob! I'm never going to amount to anything, and everyone knows it! Everything I touch manages to fuck itself up in some way, and I'm tired of people yelling at me! So you know what Yamato? You and your god damn cooking can go and fuck off, because I'm never going to be able to do anything worth while! I am just the village idiot of the Digidestined!"

Yamato was speechless, to say the last. He never knew the boy has this low of a confidence. Who would've guessed? The boy had always appeared to be an egomaniac.

Appeared...

Daisuke then turned on his heel and walked away. Yamato could only stare after the flaming boy. Odd. Unusual. Yet, Yamato was familiar with this behaviour.

Suicidal.

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WAA!!!!!!! Why do I always go and ruin all my fluffy stuff? Oh well. I think it was too early for Daisuke to go into a mental break down, but it's hard to fill up 7 or 8 pages with just cooking. So, anyway, I hope everyone had fun, wasting their time by reading this. Trust me, this is five minutes of your life you'll never have back. I bet that's what you're saying now. Well, ::shrugs:: Sorry, but I warned you. Eamil me at daisukegoggleboy@aol.com with death threats complaints, comments, and stuff. Yeah, you know, stuff.

Lilac

Proud Supporter of PDM