Rows and flows of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feathered canyons everywhere
I've looked at clouds that way

Two middle-schoolers lay on a grassy bank in the Digiworld. It was late spring, and the kind of day best described as A bright sun beat down from a sky so bright it barely seemed blue anymore. Its light slanted through the grassblades, coloring them as bright as sky and sun. Even the air seemed to sing with the unbelievable brightness of the day.

One of the children had spread herself, lazy and supine, across the grass to soak up sun and warmth. Her eyes were closed, her body quiet and still; the day had invaded her system and caused an incredible lethargy.

Her light brown hair, while short, nevertheless managed to mingle with the more purplish brown hair of the boy beside her. He formed an odd contrast to the girl, dark tan to her pale and energy to her lethargy. One could almost empathically sense the invisible twitches he gave, for he longed to get up and run, dance, play. But he stayed with the girl.

After a time her eyes opened.

mumbled the boy, next to her. The day's lethargy had begun to affect him too.

Up there. From another, the tone might have been one of a person stating the obvious to an idiot. But from the girl, the tone was one of gentle remider.

the boy replied, too lazy to sound annoyed. Only thing up there's clouds.

The girl reached up, ruffled their intermingled hair. Silly. That's what I meant, Daisuke.

came Daisuke again, this time mumbling a bit louder.

They're pretty, aren't they?

I guess... Like many boys, Daisuke was out of his depth in matters of I'm not sure I would know, Hikari.

Hikari laughed, softly, lightly. Just look...

They can be anything. See that one? A minute ago it was a polar bear rearing up. Now it's some tiny dog begging.

As Daisuke watched, the cloud's stretched, seeming to bat at another passing cloud. Now it was his turn to laugh. A chew-toy?

Hikari laughed with him. Who knows? Clouds can do anything. Maybe that's why people call dreams castles-in-the-air,' sometimes.

That our castle, then, Hikari? Daisuke asked, half-joking. That ear's beginning to look awfully like a turret.

Hikari smiled, gently. It would be a bit cold up there. Wet, too.

But now they only block the sun
They rain and snow on everyone
So many things I would have done
But clouds got in my way

It was chilly in the subway station; while the rain outside wasn't able to penetrate, the damp wind it caused most definitely was. Daisuke shivered. If he had to wait for the train home much longer, he doubted he'd ever be able to warm up again. While it wasn't freezing per se, ambient conditions leaned towards the kind of wet cold that went straight to your bones.

Maybe that's why people call dreams castles-in-the-air,' sometimes.

Hikari's voice rang in his head. Not mockingly—she was too sweet for that. But the words were as near mocking as could ever come from her mouth. Or at least they seemed that way, now.

He'd glanced up at the clouds before ducking into the subway station, to see how quick the rain would come. But he'd made an unscheduled pause. As the thunderheads closed, he'd glimpsed a small cloud—like a dog begging for a scrap of food. And as he'd frozen, midglance, its ear had shifted to look vaguely like a castle's turret. Then one final gust of wind had burst the cloud apart before the thunderheads closed.

There goes my castle, Daisuke thought, not quite bitterly. But it had left a week before.
A train pulled in, and its whistle blatted loudly. It was intended as a cheerful sound, but in the rainsoaked wind even that happy noise sounded dismal, flat. But it succeeded in pulling Daisuke out of his miserable reverie—a fact he was more annoyed than cheerful for. Even those angst-filled reminiscences seemed to him better than the cold damp. But at least the train might be heated.
With that thought in mind, he ducked into the press of people struggling to get on that train. It was a bit off rush hour, luckily, and through dint of pushing he managed to grab a seat. Then, abruptly, another person was pushed toward his bench. It—at that point Daisuke wasn't too certain of gender—spun wildly through the crowd, dark blue hair whirling with the same uncontrol that characterized his body movements.

It finally flailed itself to a half-controlled stumble, but by this point it was pretty irreversibly on a course straight for Daisuke. So Daisuke scrunched over, into the person besides him, for he had little interest in becoming a landing pad-cum-shock absorber.

But all his attempts to dodge came to little. The it managed a turn before he landing, so as to actually sit instead of being jammed roughly against the seat. But this turn landed him—he was, from this short distance, rather obviously too tall for a girl—halfway on Daisuke, his left leg on Daisuke's right and the other on the seat.

Ah, pardon me, I'm so sorry stammered out the boy, gingerly sliding off Daisuke's lap and onto the empty half-a-seat besides him. As he did so, he turned towards Daisuke, making his deep blush rather apparent—and his identity, as well.

Daisuke called, remembering too late that subways called for quiet voices. Then, in a somewhat softer tone, he continued. Haven't seen you in a while. How goes juku?

Jyou blushed even deeper at the realization that he had bumped into somebody he knew, and as a result took his own sweet time finding an answer to Daisuke's question. Finally, Daisuke impatiently interrupted his train of thought.

Oh, don't be so embarrassed, Jyou. It's not like you landed completely on my lap. Now, that'd be embarrassing. Strangely enough, Daisuke found himself blushing—though mildly—at that statement.

An unreadable flicker passed across Jyou's face. Then he said, voice strained, Juku's fine. How's soccer?

Daisuke's face fell, mildly, but deep inside he felt oddly grateful for the change of topic. Game got rained out, just now. Then he snorted. Hadn't even started to rain yet. But the clouds looked bad, so the ref called a cancel. Thought it was stupid then, but now I'm glad to be inside.' As inside as a subway is, anyway. The walk home's gonna be hell.

I've looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
It's clouds' illusions I recall
I really don't know clouds at all

How close do you live again? Jyou said, brandishing an umbrella. But Daisuke seemed not to notice, not even to laugh at Jyou's perpetual reliability. A mild frown crossed Jyou's face, at that.

It's just as well though I suppose. Daisuke said, speaking a bit too fast—as if he'd worked up courage to say this, and was speeding to finish the sentence before he ran out. Since Taichi was there and all.

Jyou's frown deepened, at Daisuke's tone. But he tried his best to ignore it. Why? Did something happen with Hikari, or what?

Daisuke sighed, seeming to at once lose a great weight and gain another. Yeah. Something happened with Hikari.

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels
That dizzy dancing way you feel
As ev'ry fairytale comes real
I've looked at love that way

Laughter, that was what he would remember later. How Hikari and he had always laughed, and in the end how outsiders could never tell whether they were laughing at each other or with each other. And in the end Daisuke couldn't tell either, though before the end he knew which was which with effortless ease. Or maybe he'd just deluded himself into thinking that way. Loveblindness has had symptoms much more severe.

Right now they laughed at—or perhaps with—a festival. A dance floor had been improvised in the grass of a local park, and traditional music had played as people whirled in traditional dances. But then Taichi had had an Idea.

He'd rounded the both of them up, and explained his Master Plan. This music's boring, he'd said, mock-pouting. Then he'd brandished a bunch of more modern CDs, of rock bands both Japanese and American. At first they'd tried to dissuade Taichi, to laugh and shrug him off. But his energy and enthusiasm had changed their minds for them, and soon, half-unthinking, they'd snuck off with Taichi to the sound system.

At which point they'd all found out that the music was live. The performers, thankfully, had been amused at Taichi's antics, and none of them had gotten in any trouble. And now they played slightly faster than the dances' stately pace would usually indicate. Perhaps it was their way of acceding to Taichi's wishes.

The faster beat, however, held quite a few perils for Daisuke. One would think that his soccer skill implied general physical dexterity, and in that one would be right. But this capability somehow failed to extend to dancing, or at least the relatively slow pace of the current dance. Perhaps Daisuke was just too energetic a person to adapt to such a slow rhythm. Every movement of his was just a bit too quick, a bit too jerky; he seemed to jar the dance's flowing beat with every step. And yet he and Hikari somehow managed to enjoy his stumblings, and laugh it off whenever he made a truly severe misstep.

And so they both found it somewhat disappointing when Taichi cut into their dance abruptly, telling them that it was time to go home. But they giggled softly behind cupped hands on the walk back to Hikari's apartment, for Taichi insisted on marching between them in pointed chaperonage.

Then they reached the building, and it was up the elevator to the Yagami apartment. Taichi stayed in the middle the entire time, even as they reached the door and said their goodbyes. And so Daisuke reached out with one hand to brush hers; then their hands fell apart, as did their glances. Daisuke turned to go, trying to conceal his annoyance at Taichi's new protectiveness. As he did so, he caught the expression on Taichi's face. It was softer than the sternness he'd expected. And it was directed at him.

Taichi flushed, suddenly, slightly, as their eyes met for a brief millisecond. Then he turned his face away and followed Hikari in the door.

But now it's just another show
You leave em laughing as you go
And if you care, don't let them know
Don't give yourself away

Jyou gave and appropriately horrified response to Daisuke's glum pronouncement. Really? But... why? You two were so happy... I do hope it's not serious...

Quite serious, Daisuke said, cutting Jyou off. His tired voice betrayed some sarcasm and bitterness. We broke up.

Jyou said, taken aback by Daisuke's blunt reply. But really, was there any other way to say it?

No, I didn't dump her, no she didn't dump me, Daisuke half-angrily continued, as if he were reciting an oft-said speech. We just sort of... broke up, one day.

But... why? Jyou repeated, and then hastily added, Unless you don't want to tell me of course. If it's too painful or anything...

I don't know. Daisuke said, voice once again tired. I just don't know. But one morning... I didn't love her anymore. I could remember that I had. But I didn't. And neither did she, as it turns out.

She's with Takeru now. A pause. No, I don't think she had been cheating. No, I don't think that was why... I'm pretty sure that the same thing happened to her. His voice broke slightly. I only wish...

Jyou reached out one arm and draped it around Daisuke's shoulders in comfort. He twitched slightly, and continued, lowvoiced and earnest.

She was always the angsty one. I was always the happy-go-lucky-one. Then we were both happy, for a while. Now she's happy. What am I? I don't love her, not anymore. I don't hate her. So why am I... His voice broke again, then crescendoed. Why am I so damned depressed?

You miss her. Jyou said quietly. Or even if you don't miss her, you miss who she was. You went out for how long? Almost a year. And now you don't have a girlfriend anymore. You've lost part of yourself.

But I don't love her anymore. Daisuke said, frustration creeping into his words. After a moment, he added,

His tone had an odd quality to it that was lost as his voice collided with Jyou's explanation: That's what's missing. You don't love anyone, anymore.

Daisuke muttered an indistinct

I've seen love from both sides now
From give and take, and still somehow
It's love's illusions I recall
I really don't know love at all

No, seriously, Jyou continued. Find someone else! Fall in love with someone! You'll feel better in no time! Suddenly, he stopped. Oh dear. That sounded terribly cliched and overhappy, didn't it?

Daisuke nodded, and flashed a quick miserable grin. But... thanks. There was an unusual warmth in his voice.

Jyou looked puzzled for a second. For what?

Trying to cheer me up. Daisuke gave a noncommital shrug. It's even working, kinda.

Jyou grinned back. In that case... ask someone out. Her over there!

Daisuke gave the girl an appraising look. Nah. See what she's reading? Bookish geeks are no fun.

I'm hurt! Jyou replied, mock-pouting.

Daisuke flung an arm around Jyou. Aw, Jyou, I didn't mean...

Suddenly he froze, then after an imperceptible second relaxed. His arm slid limply back to his side. A softer completed his sentence.

he whispered, words inaudible even to himself. I'm sorry.

Tears and fears and feeling proud
To say I love you right out loud
Dreams and screams and circus crowds
I've looked at life that way

The air in the Yagami apartment seemed oddly tense and miserable.

Daisuke said softly, as if the funeral atmosphere had penetrated even his shell of happiness.

Hikari didn't even bother to greet him. She just looked up at him with a wordless acknowledgement.

So. Um... have fun last night? Daisuke continued, trying futilely to break the room's silence.

Hikari nodded.

That's good.

Why don't you sit down, Daisuke? Hikari asked. She tried to sound open and friendly—like she'd been—but failed.

Hikari, I— Daisuke was cut off.

Taichi was crying last night, Daisuke. Do you have any idea what he could be upset about? Genuine concern, now.

No, sorry, Daisuke lied. But Taichi... crying? I hope you find out. It must be pretty serious...

Hikari paused a moment, as if gathering strength. Daisuke, I—

I think it might have something to do with me, Daisuke put in, too-quickly.

Hikari sighed. I know it does. I was hoping you knew what it was. Her words carried an odd note of double entendre.

Daisuke frowned. Then with a shake of his head, he added,

They waited uncomfortably for a second.

Daisuke, I—

Hikari, maybe—

We should break up, they both ended. Daisuke had started later, and his words trailed uncomfortably off. Both statements seemed to hang in the air, palpable things that both of them wished they could unsay. But they were also both perversely glad that they'd been said. Now that weight was in the air, instead of pressing down on them.

I just don't... they chorused, then in unison trailed off to let the other speak. They both started up again together, and again politely stopped. Then they were silent again for a few seconds.

Daisuke sighed, and said, I don't... He trailed off, lamely.

You don't love me anymore, Hikari said, perceptively, quietly. That's all right... I feel the same. Maybe it's for the best.

I'm... I'm sorry. Daisuke, softly.

It's okay, Hikari said, gently. Look at it this way. Neither of us is dumping the other. We're just... falling apart. Neither of us is hurting the other...

That's not true, Daisuke mumbled. Then he turned to leave the room.

It was nearing noon, and Taichi had just woken up. He staggered out of his bedroom towards the apartment's kitchen, and through groggy eyes caught sight of Daisuke. The stricken look on Taichi's face was enough to make Daisuke run away.

But now old friends are acting strange
They shake their heads, they say I've changed
But something's lost—and something's gained
In living every day

Jyou asked, concerned. I'm sorry... did I remind you of something between you and Hikari... oh dear, if I did then I shouldn't have said that...

Daisuke blinked. Jyou, I'm fine, he said, consciously steadying his voice and heartbeat. Not everything reminds me of Hikari, you know. I'm over her— He caught Jyou's dubious expression. Or close to, anyway.

Whatever you say, Daisuke, Jyou said, in a tone echoing the disbelief on his face. But if there's anything I can do to help...

I know, Daisuke said, softer. But... there's nothing, really. He perked up again, almost artificially. But thanks for the offer. It wasn't anything to do with Hikari, anyway.

replied Jyou, mock-sarcastic.

He got the laugh he'd been looking for, as Daisuke said,

Good boy, Jyou said, reaching out to ruffle Daisuke's hair. You're laughing again.

Daisuke stiffened for another halfsecond, but relaxed much more quickly, now. Jyou didn't seem to notice.

Jyou continued. You not laughing... that's serious. Ever since I met you, I can't really remember a time where you couldn't find anything to laugh about.

Maybe I've grown up, Daisuke said. Maybe that's growing up.

Jyou shook his head. Peter Pan was wrong. Growing up's only terrible if you let it be. Stay laughing, Daisuke.

Laughing all the time's almost... boring, though. Crying has to be a part of life too... I guess.

I guess. Jyou shrugged. Don't let it be too big a part of yours, though.

Daisuke repeated Jyou's shrug. It did have something to do with Hikari, you know. Vaugely. If you stretch several points much farther than they really need to be stretched.

Jyou quieted a bit. I thought so. Then, with a quick, almost fake half-laugh, But I'm a geekboy. Of course I stretch points that far!

Daisuke laughed as well. Of course I can't tell you why.

B... but... sputtered Jyou, exaggerating consternation. Then he shrugged and shook his head again. I didn't expect you to, though.

He waited a bit before continuing. I would have, before. But... something's odd about you today, Daisuke. You're not as... carefree, I suppose, as you used to be.

Call it growing up, Daisuke said, shortly.

I won't. That's too easy. I relaxed the older I got, anyway.

Daisuke gave Jyou an almost skeptical look. Jyou. That's because it would have been impossible for you to get more serious!

Yeah, yeah, I suppose, grumbled Jyou, with a pointed roll of the eyes. But seriously, Daisuke...

I've looked at life from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all

Look, Jyou. It's not entirely growing up.' You're right about that. And I know what did it. And I'd really prefer not to talk about it, Daisuke interrupted, annoyance plain.

Daisuke, if it bothers you that much, maybe it'd be best to talk about it, said Jyou.

It doesn't bother me that much, Daisuke answered.

Jyou shot back,

Daisuke flinched. You're right. And I'd still prefer not to talk about it.

Jyou sat back. He couldn't keep a slight smirk off his face.

Daisuke said.

Daisuke, you'll tell me. The tension'll get to you in about seven seconds, and you'll tell me. I've known you how long? To add insult to injury, Jyou reached over and started his watch.

Daisuke tried to stare back at Jyou, then in a burst of giggles said, Not a chance... it's just that... drat. Got me.

Jyou stopped his watch, then looked at it with an exxagerated flourish. Six ninety-three.

I hate you, you know that? Daisuke replied. Anyway, it really started the night of the festival...

Go on. Jyou nodded.

Taichi was acting strange. And then when we'd gotten to his and Hikari's apartment... Daisuke stopped, and sighed. There's not really much to tell. It's mostly all very much guesswork.

Taichi is gay. If that's what you were wondering, Jyou supplied, after a briefly uncomfortable pause. If that's what you thought. It's right.

That's what I thought, Daisuke confirmed. That's when I figured it out. Because...

He might have liked you. Taichi's gotten strange crushes before, Jyou again finished Daisuke's thought. But he quickly backpedaled. Not that I'd consider you a particularly strange person to crush on or anything.

Daisuke rolled his eyes. Thanks, Jyou.

So that's why you and Hikari broke up?

Daisuke nodded. You already know the rest.

And now you're wondering whether you're straight or bi, Jyou added, bluntly. Then he said with calculated offhandedness, Well. The reason I knew Taichi was gay... we dated a bit, maybe a year ago.

Daisuke's face twisted for a second. Thanks for telling me that, though.

I've looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose, and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all

Well, it's nearly my stop, Jyou said. He moved to get up.

Daisuke laid a hand on his arm.



My last relationship pretty much went down in flames... and I'm probably still on rebound... but.

Jyou grinned. It's worth a try. I'm glad you picked up on my hint...

Daisuke laughed. Jyou! You couldn't be subtle if you tried!

I'm hurt, Jyou replied, laughter in his voice.

It is worth a try. Who knows?

Who knows? Jyou echoed.

It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all