Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.

A New Leaf: Friendship

Expect the Unexpected

Grey eyes flicked open and darted about the room, scanning the darkness for any abnormality. Their owner fumbled briefly on his beside table before his fingers closed around what they were searching for, and slid a pair of glasses onto his nose. The digital display on his clock read 2:17am. What woke me?

Slowly, he raised himself into a half-sitting position, glaring suspiciously around his familiar bedroom. He jumped nearly out of his skin as a spattering of pebbles clattered noisily against his window pane, and dove underneath his covers with a small yelp. When nothing pounced on his shivering form to tear it to shreds, he dared to peek out. Fourteen years old and still afraid of 'things' in the dark - pathetic. Ashamed, he tried chanting fiercely inside his head that there were no such thing as monsters, but his happy stint in the Digital World two summers back had somewhat nullified the effect of that particular mantra.

Thinking of the Digiworld reminded him of Gomamon. What would Gomamon say? It's okay to be afraid, but you can't let fear control everything you do. You have to confront your fears, or else they'll never go away. I believe in you, Jou! ...Jou smiled. He could almost hear his voice.

Face my fears... Resolutely, Jou threw his covers off and swung his feet onto the floor. Resisting the urge to check underneath the bed, he padded to the window and paused behind the drapes. It struck him that he was alone in the apartment tonight, and that nobody would come running if he screamed... Annoyed at himself and afraid of thinking too far down that track, Jou abruptly jerked back the drapes, flung open the window wide before he could think twice about it, and received a well-aimed smattering of gravel in his face.

Instinctively, he shut his eyes but thankfully his glasses shielded them anyway. His cheeks stung where the sharp edges of the tiny stones had dug into them. Some were stuck in his hair. He spat one out of his mouth, only too aware of how easily he could have choked on it.

"...Jou? That you, Jou?"

"No, it's fucking Santa Claus," he mumbled irritably, sticking his head out of the first-storey apartment window. He could afford to be tired and irritable now he knew there was no evil monster outside. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. "Yamato, it's two in the morning. It's gone two in the morning. Please tell me you have a good reason for being outside my bedroom window, Romeo-style, assaulting me with chunks of rock."

"You'll excuse me if I pass on serenading you this time, milady." Yamato bowed formally, yet mockingly. He was always mocking. "I regret it is not my heart that brings me here this treacherous night. I fear..."

Jou snorted at Yamato's imperious speech. "Stop being such an ass and get in here."

"The door's locked..."

"Give me a moment and I'll let down my hair." The sarcasm positively dripped from Jou's words, and he drew back from the window. Yamato allowed himself a half-smile as he waited patiently outside. Soon enough there was the sound of a key grinding rustily in its lock, and then two bolts being shot back. The door swung inwards, revealing darkness... and Jou. He passed a hand through his bed-tousled hair and stepped aside to let Yamato in, blinking sleepily.

"Cute pyjamas, bunny-boy." Jou scowled at Yamato as he passed, but otherwise ignored the teasing comment, turning to bolt the door back up. His grandmother had bought them for his thirteenth birthday. He hadn't wanted to hurt her feelings by trying to explain that thirteen was a little old to still be wearing pyjamas with feet, so he had simply thanked her and put them in the back of his drawer to be worn when nobody was looking. He felt obliged to wear them occasionally, out of respect to his grandmother. He'd feel terrible to think that she'd wasted good money on a present he never used.

"Go on up." Jou indicated the stairs leading to his apartment, and both he and Yamato traipsed the flight in silence. Jou opened his apartment door and went through to the kitchen whilst Yamato removed his shoes, flicking the light on and wincing against the sudden brightness. "Um... coffee?" Jou moved towards the kettle, but Yamato shook his head quickly. Now that he was inside in the light, Jou could see how pale his friend looked. He frowned. "Yamato, what's wrong... Why are you here in the middle of the night?"

Yamato shrugged uncomfortably, avoiding Jou's gaze. "Gomen..."

"I don't want to hear apologies, I want to hear an explanation," Jou said firmly. "Or else you're out on your ear. I'm not supposed to have anyone over when I'm alone in the apartment, you know that. So you'd better have a damn good reason for not being at home tucked up in bed."

"I fought with 'Tousan," was Yamato's terse reply. Jou raised an eyebrow.

"About?"

"Does it matter?" He scowled. "I don't think it'd be wise to go back until morning... give him some time to cool off. Like I said, I'm sorry. But I've got nowhere else to go tonight and I thought that, as a friend, you might offer me a little support. But," and he turned his head away, "if you're scared of getting into trouble, I can leave. I don't care."

"Oh, don't get like that, 'Mato," Jou sighed. "Of course I'm not going to turn you out into the street. I'll set up the camp bed in my room."

"I'm not getting like anything." Flat, emotionless. Jou pursed his lips. He really hated it when Yamato got into one of his defensive moods - it would do no good to try and ask him about the argument now. He would only receive sullen, one-word replies and sulky silences.

"Well, why don't you make yourself a sandwich or something? I'll go put your bed together." He smiled at Yamato who, to Jou's relief, returned the favour with a small, sad smile of his own. Something in his face compelled Jou to reach out and touch his arm in a gesture of support. He wanted to help Yamato. But the stubborn boy so often just wouldn't be helped. His fingers grazed the blond's sleeve and then fell away, shy and awkward. Lowering his eyes, Jou hurried from the kitchen.

Silently, Yamato crossed to the fridge and began gathering what he needed to make sandwiches for them both. He hummed softly as he buttered the bread, enjoying just being away from the restrictions of his home for the night. Jou's apartment always relaxed him, somehow. He had just added the finishing touches of strawberry jelly when Jou came back in.

"Your bed's done..."

Yamato smiled a smile that Jou couldn't see. "Thanks." He pressed the top slices of bread down onto the peanut butter and jelly, and handed one sandwich to Jou. "This one's for you." He shrugged, as if embarrassed at himself for making the effort. Jou took it with a nod of thanks.

"You didn't have to."

"Well, I wanted to." Again with the defensive. Jou rolled his eyes dramatically and took a bite of sandwich, turning to lead the way to his room. Yamato followed, absently tracing his fingers over his sleeve where Jou had touched it.

"It's not much..." Jou toed his bedroom door open. "But I like to call it home."

"Hmm." Yamato circled the camp bed once, then flopped down on it and bounced a little. "Not bad," he said approvingly, his mouth full of PB&J. "Not bad at all. Good work, Kido." Jou smiled inwardly and leaned on the door to close it.

"Oh..." Jou realized, with a shiver of cold, that he'd forgotten to close the window. He hopped over Yamato and pulled it shut, wrapping his arms around himself. "Sorry."

Yamato shrugged. "S'not cold." Jou noticed his friend was still in his habitual pants and polo shirt.

"Are you going to sleep in those clothes?" Jou blushed, regretting the words the instant he blurted them out. Yamato raised his eyebrows, as Jou had known he would.

"Well, I'm not gonna get fresh, if that's what you mean." Another casual bite of sandwich by the Prince of Cool. He drew his knees up lazily and regarded Jou from between them, head cocked to one side. "Hentai."

Hole of shame, swallow me now. "I d-didn't mean that, and you know it," the blue haired boy stammered, mortified. "I just meant... Well, you can borrow a pair of my pyjamas if you want. It's not hygienic to sleep in your day clothes," he offered by way of explanation, becoming a little defensive himself.

A slow smile spread across Yamato's features. "Do they all have cute bunnies and feet?"

"No, but you can have a set with Pikachu on them if you want," Jou shot back. Yamato popped the last of his sandwich into his mouth, put his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. He chewed, swallowed, grinned.

"Not my style. I'll take the set with the blue and yellow stripes."

Jou chuckled, and ferreted in his chest of drawers. "They're a little too baggy for me, so they'll be even bigger on you... Are you sure?"

"Jou. The alternative is Pikachu. I'm sure."

A perfectly folded pair of pyjamas landed squarely in Yamato's lap. "I'll, just, uh..." Jou was inching towards the door. Yamato snorted.

"I haven't got anything you don't see every time you change for gym class. Just turn around if it bothers you that much." He began tugging off his pants, and Jou obediently turned to face the wall.

"...Must have been some fight," he dared to venture.

There was a slight pause in the scuffling sounds behind him, and then they resumed. Several seconds passed. Jou had just decided that Yamato wasn't going to answer him at all when he said quietly, "It was."

Jou sighed. At last, he was getting somewhere. "Tell me, 'Mato-kun. What did you fight about?"

"Stuff..." There was a long silence. "I'm done," Yamato said eventually. "You can turn around now."

Jou spun round, knelt down and caught Yamato's wrists, looking earnestly up into his startled blue eyes. "Just stop it, 'Mato," he pleaded. "I'm worried! Tell me what happened."

"I -" Caught off guard, Yamato looked around as though for something that would save him, but the dim room offered no support. Even as Jou watched, the cool mask slid back over his pale features. "It's really not important," came the even response.

"Bullshit."

"Fine, be like that!" Tugging his hand away, Yamato coldly turned his back on an exasperated Jou. Mutinous silence filled the air. Neither boy seemed inclined to break it, but Jou caved in first, as they had both known he would.

"'Mato-kun..."

No reply.

"Look, you're only hurting yourself."

"The hell would you know…!?" It was intended fiercely, but his voice shook.

"The hell would I know? I'll tell you what the hell I know!" Caution thrown to the winds, Jou grabbed at Yamato's shoulder and twisted it round, forcing him to meet his gaze. A sharp hiss of pain escaped the blond's gritted teeth, but for once Jou ignored it. "I know that you came here tonight knowing full well that I would demand an explanation for your not being at home, and I also know that if you really didn't want anyone to know about this argument of yours then you probably wouldn't have been averse to sleeping in the park for the night. I know that you would never ask for a shoulder to cry on, but that sometimes you want it. But whenever one is offered you, whenever someone just tries to be a god damn friend, you push them away, you snap at them, you sulk!" Yamato seemed to grow smaller and smaller as Jou, breathing raggedly, towered over him in determination like some blue-haired ogre. "And what are you achieving? Where's it all getting you, huh?" He shook his cowering friend fiercely. "Answer me that!"

Yamato stared up at Jou utter shock. His lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out for several seconds. Jou, though, was not going to back down this time.

"I don't…" the blond murmured brokenly, "I don't mean to…" Too shaken by his friend's outburst to disguise his feelings, the look of pure vulnerability on Yamato's face was more than Jou could bear. He pulled his friend into a rough embrace, arms wrapped around him, but Yamato didn't respond. After a short while, he shifted uncomfortably. Jou gave up.

"Damn you then, if you don't want to talk," he said softly. "Serves you right if you're lonely. I'm not going to let it bother me anymore." Rising, he stepped over Yamato and clambered into bed without a word, turning to face the wall.

Half an hour later he was still wide awake, worrying.

* * * * *

Yamato lay still and breathed evenly, resisting the urge to toss and turn. He knew Jou was still awake - he snored softly when he slept, because of his asthma. Stupid, interfering Jou. He'd wanted a bed for the night, not a lecture. Why did he have to ask so many damn questions all the time?

And why is it so hard for me to answer?

Resisting the compulsion to sigh heavily, Yamato sat up and looked at Jou. He still stubbornly had his back turned to the room, hair untidily splaying over his pillow. It was threatening to become long-ish if he didn't have it trimmed soon. But then, so is mine Yamato thought, running his fingers through it with a frown. Well - maybe he should let it grow that way. A change is as good as a rest, after all…

"I told 'Tousan about Taichi," Yamato said suddenly. Kami, what had he just blurted that out for? He heard Jou roll over to look at him properly, but he couldn't bring himself to look back. He drew his knees up and hugged them fiercely. "I guess that was why we fought."

"Kami…" Jou said softly. "Why didn't you tell me before, 'Mato?"

A shrug. "Not like it matters. If we hadn't fought about that, it would have only been something else. Just one more reason for him to hate me," Yamato bitterly spat.

That hand was on his shoulder again. "I'm sure he -"

"Don't patronise me!" the blond snapped. "You weren't even there."

Jou sat up and pulled the duvet around himself. "Suppose you tell me how it happened, then?"

Yamato looked up at him, glaring defensively. "I don't want to talk about it," he said.

No, but you need to was on the tip of Jou's tongue, but he bit it back. "I don't care," he said instead, as unfeelingly as he could manage. "I want to hear about it. So tell."

"Don't push it, Jou," Yamato said warningly. Jou inwardly cursed. He had been sure that would do the trick, get him to open up somehow by pretending he didn't care about his feelings. Still, he thought grimly, there was one more ace to play.

"All right," he said gently, putting his hand on Yamato's shoulder again and giving it a supportive little squeeze. "If it hurts too much to talk about it, you don't have to. I understand."

It was hard not to laugh at the wholly indignant expression on Yamato's outraged face. "Don't baby me," he ground out between set teeth. "I can talk about whatever I damn well please, if I want to."

"No no, really," Jou insisted. "I shouldn't have asked. I should have realised it wouldn't be easy for you. Never mind."

"Never mind?" Yamato's voice was shaking uncontrollably. "I was trembling on that couch, Jou, trembling and trying to screw up the courage to tell him, and when I finally did… Don't you ever tell me to never mind!" He shook Jou's hand off and buried his face in his knees. "It was awful."

Jou was quiet for a moment. Masaharu had never been the most placid of men, to Jou's knowledge, but he hadn't known he was a homophobe. "What did he say?" Jou asked.

Yamato shrugged. "Nothing. He didn't have to."

Jou's stomach lurched. "Did he hit you? 'Mato, he didn't, did he?"

"Iie…"

"So what did he do?" Another shrug. Jou tried hard to be patient. "Well he must have done something!"

"He just kind of… stood there…"

"And then what?"

"And then I ran out and came here."

"Wait, wait wait. Time out." Jou frowned. "So you told him you went out with Taichi and then ran off before he had the chance to say anything about it?"

"…"

"'Mato?"

"He was disgusted. I know he was."

"Iie, you don't!" Jou cried in exasperation. "You're paranoid!"

"Hark at the pot calling the kettle black," Yamato retorted sourly. Jou pulled a face.

"I've a good mind to march you back round there myself and make you face him properly."

"I'd like to see you try," snorted Yamato.

"Fine!" Leaping from his bed, Jou grabbed Yamato's wrists and tried to pull him to his feet. He pulled back, and a kind of tug-of-war broke out. All Jou succeeded in was dragging Yamato out of his sleeping bag and halfway across the room, by which point both were giggling.

"Give up?" Yamato taunted. Jou hesitated. He knew he could never succeed, but he was loath to give in.

"Let's call it quits," he suggested diplomatically. Yamato gave him a slow smile.

"No deal, Kido. Do you give up or don't you?"

"What if I don't?" said Jou defiantly, shaking his head to flick his hair out of his eyes. Yamato grinned.

"Then I do this!"

He jerked Jou's wrists hard and fast, and the boy toppled, tripped and sprawled face-first onto the camp bed. Before he could recover himself, he felt a sudden weight low on his back, and his arms were pinned to his sides. His feet flailed uselessly, and something he kicked went over with an alarmingly loud crash. He kept his legs still after that, but wriggled helplessly. He couldn't breathe. The pillow he had his face in smelt of the unmistakeable scent that was Yamato. Reddening slightly, Jou turned his head so he could draw in air.

"Get off me," he demanded indignantly. He could hear the smirk in Yamato's reply.

"Shan't. Not until you say you give up."

Three angry-sounding thumps on the ceiling below made both boys freeze. "What was that?" Yamato whispered.

"Nadashi-san," Jou whispered back. "I think we woke him up. We'd better be extra quiet from now on. I hope he doesn't tell 'Tousan," he added guiltily. "Let me up, 'Mato."

Yamato didn't move. "Yamato!" Jou hissed. "Do you want us to get into trouble?"

"So struggle quietly," the blond suggested impishly. Jou tried to roll him off, but found himself pinned securely in place. He made a small angry noise.

"It isn't funny anymore!"

"Do you give up, then?" Jou jumped a mile at the sound of Yamato's voice whispering pratically inside his ear. The shock went straight to his chest, and it tightened. His breathing immediately became faster and more harsh.

"Kuso!" Yamato quickly released him and clambered up onto Jou's bed, snatched the small inhaler from the shelf and scrambled back to his friend. Jou pushed himself into a sitting position and accepted the inhaler, shaking it hard. "Gomen, gomen nasai," Yamato was muttering, rubbing Jou's back as though he thought it might help. He watched in consternation as Jou pressed the release and inspired deeply, holding his breath for several seconds before gasping out and repeating the process. He continued to breathe raggedly for a few seconds more, then seemed to recover. He smiled at Yamato, who was still energetically rubbing his back.

"There's no need to look like someone's died, Yamato," he reassured him. "It's just a bit of asthma."

Yamato didn't look convinced. "Are you sure you're all right?" he queried.

"Never better," Jou replied with enthusiasm. Relieved, Yamato's frantic rubbing slowed to a gentle stroke.

"Your asthma attacks scare me," he admitted. "How do you cope?"

Jou shrugged awkwardly. "You get used to it." He was blazingly conscious of the light movement of Yamato's fingers on his spine, soothing and pleasantly ticklish. A part of his mind was trying to tell him something about Implications, but he turned away from it. He didn't want to think about that right now.

"Arigato, Jou-kun," Yamato said suddenly. Jou blinked.

"What for?"

"You know," he replied, in a vague and self-conscious tone. "Stuff." There was a pause as Jou waited for him to go on. Yamato sighed. "For letting me talk, I guess. And cheering me up." He was definitely embarrassed now. The hand stroking Jou's back faltered, and slid to the floor. An unbearably loud silence followed. Then,

"Don't stop," Jou said quietly. "I liked it."

In a sudden flurry of overly-baggy blue and yellow stripes and the slam of a bedroom door, Yamato was gone, leaving Jou sat alone on the camp bed in open-mouthed surprise, confusion and dismay.

* * * * *

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Yamato glowered furiously at his reflection in Jou's bathroom mirror, and it glared unrepentantly back. "Omae o baka," he hissed as his own image, gripping the lip of the sink until his knuckles turned white. "Yamato no baka, Yamato no yaro!"

He slid miserably to the floor and put his face in his hands. Jou would come looking for him in a moment. You could count on Old Reliable. Kami-sama, what had he been thinking! How was he going to explain this? Idly, Yamato toyed with the idea of just hanging himself from the shower rail then and there. He didn't get far down that train of thought, however, before it was interrupted.

"…Yamato?"

He sighed. "Just coming," he called, hauling himself to his feet. Checking the mirror, he noticed that the composed mask had reasserted itself over his frantic emotions. Good. Taking a deep breath, he slid the bolt back and slipped out into the hall.

Jou regarded him with a great deal of uncertainty. "Daijobou desu ka?" he asked hesitantly. Yamato nodded.

"I'm fine."

A frown crosed Jou's face. "Are you sure?"

"Hai."

"So… what was all that about?"

"I needed to pee," Yamato replied with a nonchalant shrug. Jou narrowed his eyes, pushed past him and stalked into the bathroom. "I flushed," began Yamato lamely, trailing after Jou, but the lie was obvious and he fell silent. Jou fixed him with an accusing glare.

"Either tell me the truth or don't tell me at all, Yama, but don't lie to m -"

"Don't you ever call me that!" Yamato's fists were clenched and his face had suddenly turned crimson. "Nobody calls me that anymore. Don't call me that!"

Jou was bewildered for a moment. He couldn't think what he'd said. Then, understanding began to dawn. "Taichi called you Yama… didn't he?" Jou hesitantly asked. Yamato glared for a moment, then nodded.

"I guess I should stick to 'Mato then, huh?" Jou said apologetically.

Yamato nodded again, more slowly this time, and his fists began to unclench. "Sorry," he muttered, not meeting Jou's eyes. "It just caught me off guard, that's all." There was a pregnant pause, in which both boys began to look rather uncomfortable. "Look…" Yamato said suddenly, "it's been a long night. Let's just go to bed, okay?"

Jou nodded, and led the way back to his room. They clambered into their respective beds, and for a few moments there was quiet. Jou was, as usual, the first to speak.

"Do you still miss him?"

"Who, Taichi?" Yamato sounded surprised at the question. "Nah."

"But you were so close," probed Jou carefully. He didn't want to set Yamato off again. The boy in question shrugged non-commitally.

"Looked that way, didn't we?" Jou thought he detected a trace of bitterness in the blond's voice. "We didn't agree on anything any more than we had in the Digiworld. We just stopped fighting was all. I think we got on better when we were at each other's throats from time to time, but then…" He paused, as if suddenly aware that he was saying quite a lot without meaning to. Jou waited, and after a moment Yamato continued. "We just tried to ignore our differences and our problems. And one day they all blew up in our faces."

"I see," said Jou, although he didn't really. He failed to understand how two people who cared about each other so much could let their differences mount up so badly. Surely they had seen it wasn't healthy for their relationship? Maybe, Jou reflected, they hadn't. Taichi was as thick as two planks, and Yamato would be ripped apart by Alsatians sooner than admit to a problem. "And what have you learned from all this?" he prompted.

"Learned?" Yamato blinked. "I dunno… Beware boys bearing goggles?"

Jou burst out laughing. A faint smile began to spread across Yamato's face too, which soon became a broad grin. "Okay, dumb conclusion," he admitted. "What was I supposed to say?"

"Something along the lines," Jou said seriously, "of now understanding that the key to a good foundation for a relationship is conversation. And I don't mean talking about the weather, either."

"And what would you know about relationships?" Yamato rudely demanded. He half-saw, half-felt Jou wince in the dark, and immediately regretted saying it. "Hey, sorry man. That came out wrong."

"How many ways are there to say the truth?" said Jou resignedly. "Let's face it: I'm hardly the town stud."

"Hey," Yamato reprimanded him sharply. "I've told you about that pessimism. It's got to go." His voice softened. "I thought you and Mimi…"

Jou sighed. "So did I, for a while. But in another three weeks she'll be on the other side of the world, so that's the end of that."

"A lot can happen in three weeks," said Yamato mischeviously.

"There's no point," Jou stated in a flat voice. "I'd just be setting myself up to have my heart ripped out. And for what? A mere crush." He shook his head. "I'm going to have to run into a really special someone before I start taking ridiculous risks like that, I'm afraid. She's out there… somewhere."

Yamato was silent for a moment. Then he said, "Do you really believe that? That there's someone out there for everyone?"

"Of course." Jou swivelled his head round to look at Yamato curiously. "Don't you?"

"I don't know…" Yamato sat up with his knees drawn to his chest, and picked idly at the fluff on his sleeping bag.

"If this is about you and Taichi," Jou began, and then paused, unsure how to continue. Yamato had abruptly ceased his fluff-picking and, although he hadn't looked up, Jou knew he was listening attentively. "Look," he said with some difficulty, "just because a relationship with one person didn't work out for you, it doesn't mean that no relationship will be happy. You'll find someone else, 'Mato."

Yamato sat as if frozen. Then, still staring very hard at his own knees, he said quietly, "What if I find somebody else, and they don't love me back?"

Jou's stomach lurched. Alarm bells, ringing frantically inside his head, warned him that the conversation was crossing into dangerous territory. He fought to maintain a level of careful casualness in his voice. "That's something that has to be dealt with as it comes," he heard himself saying.

"What, you think the answers magically appear as soon as the situation arises?" Yamato laughed bitterly. "There are no answers, Jou. None."

"Koushiro wouldn't agree. You try telling him that something doesn't have an answer," Jou pointed out.

"Koushiro's a fucking homophobe and he hates my guts," snapped Yamato. "Remember?"

Jou sighed. Momentarily, he had forgotten. "I still can't believe… It's just not like him to be so narrow-minded," the tall boy muttered. "He's not talking to you or Taichi… You and Taichi aren't talking to each other… Mimi's going to America… What's happening to our group of friends, 'Mato-kun? We're all drifting apart."

"Well, us two are still friends," Yamato said with an uncomfortable shrug. "So it's not all that bad…"

Jou smiled at the indirect compliment he'd just been paid. Rustlings drifted up from below as Yamato rearranged himself more comfortably into his sleeping bag. What time is it, anyway? Jou wondered, glancing over to his clock. He started. The digital display read 3.30am. That late already? the boy thought fuzzily, sleep fast catching up with him. "Hey, 'Mato," he mumbled drowsily. "We've got school tomorrow… maybe we should sleep, ne?"

Deep, regular breathing was the only reply from the floor, and soon Jou's faint snores could be heard beneath the duvet.

* * * * *

^_^ Oh the eye candy. Ti x