It's the giant Pumpmon head which nicks the top of the door that Taichi protests immediately. "If you fuck up my car — ,"

" — it'll be a favor from us to you, because this car sucks."

"Drive yourselves then!"

With a dismissive laugh, Takeru stuffs his inflatable pumpkin head into the backseat at last, just barely avoiding Daisuke's foam Gottsumon boulders strapped to his biceps. Iori, wearing Armadimon's ears affixed to a massive headband, is squashed awkwardly on Daisuke's other side next to a mute Mummymon Ken so thoroughly rolled head to toe in medical gauze stolen out of Jou's work kit that he can't bend a single limb. He's been placed stiff as a board behind the front passenger seat, which Miyako shares with Hikari, the latter's Sunflowmon bonnet, made of fuzzy felt petals, tickling the former's nose from under the long clip-in bangs of her Babamon wig, making her sneeze.

"We appreciate this, Taichi," says his sister as he drives, trying her best to get her bonnet out of Miyako's face. It is unsuccessful, and the bespectacled girl continues to sniffle painfully through puffy sinuses. "Guess everyone's out tonight, it's been so hard to get rides anywhere!"

He's too disgruntled to humor her, complaining instead, "Why couldn't you just put your costumes on at the bar?"

Miyako sneezes through her reply, "It's — so much — more work — to take — all this — on and — off — and besides — ,"

"Miyako, sweetheart, please," interrupts Takeru kindly, "you're getting snot all over the Taichi's shitty car."

"But could you really tell the difference?" Daisuke kicks the back of the driver's seat, the cushion hanging off at a precarious angle.

"Kick me one more time, Dais, I dare you — ,"

"I'll kick — ,"

"Takeru — !"

"Let's just all calm down — ,"

"Mmm-mmhphm-hmpm — ,"

"Ow! That — was my — seat, Dai — suke — !"

He slams on the brakes, and Hikari's bonnet falls over her eyes with a yelp of surprise and Iori's cardboard ears stab one of Daisuke's foam boulders, deflating it instantly, causing Daisuke to wail and Takeru to scramble to keep Ken from sliding clean off the backseat like a piece of driftwood, while Miyako sneezes so hard her wig shoots right off her head and smacks into the dashboard.

Taichi's holding his face in a hand, elbow on his windowsill and his dark eyes squeezed shut. "Just get out."

They somehow take twice as long to remove themselves from the car as they took getting in, and by the time Hikari's poked her head back into the passenger seat to thank him profusely with promises to cook for him for a week, Taichi's softened a little, admitting that the group did look quite good in their costumes. "I bet you'll win the bar contest," he tells her, in lieu of an apology for being irritable.

"Well, duh. I'm a Yagami," she scoffs, winking.

"Yeah, you are," he laughs.

"You sure you don't want to join?" she asks, hopeful with a noticeable sheen of worry over the unkempt frump of his decidedly un-festive appearance. It was the first Halloween he hadn't taken part in with the rest.

Taichi shakes his head. "I'm good. You be good."

"Never." She throws him a kiss, then takes a stumbling Ken by the hand to lead him to safety in his mummified waddle, Miyako sneezing after them along the way.

Grinning, Taichi's about to roll up the windows and pull the car into reverse when the backdoor opens. "Yeah, hold on, this isn't a Ly — what the fuck!"

"It's just me!" shrieks Mimi over his scream. A giant brain pops off her head, revealing cinnamon blonde hair piled into a high bun. She removes the yellow contact lenses next, and tosses the fake spray gun to the other end of the backseat before she finishes climbing inside.

"What are you doing?"

"Hikari said you were giving rides — ,"

Mentally reminding himself to double the week of ready made meals, he groans, turning back to the front and rubbing his temples. "I was giving the kids rides — ,"

"They're well past being kids, Taichi."

" — and at no point was doing so meant to be an open invitation."

"It's on your way," she insists, finally settled in.

"You don't know where I'm going."

"Yes, I do," she corrects smartly. "You told everyone you were staying home and not going to any parties, because you wanted to sulk — ,"

" — I'm not sulking — ,"

" — over getting dumped — ,"

" — it was mutual — ,"

" — on the most romantic night of the year."

In spite of everything, he laughs. He starts the car, mostly to have something to do. "In what fucking world is Halloween the mo — ," and he freezes, arrested by the distinct sound of a zipper coming undone. His eyes dart to the rear view mirror and then immediately go back to the road, hands tight on the wheel. "Mimi, what are you doing?"

"Changing!" she chirps. "And you shouldn't feel so bad, Taichi. You've been dumped so many times, it's like second nature."

His face is back in his hand. "Uh-huh."

"And you always bounce back."

"Sure."

She rolls her Vademon costume into a ball that she stuffs into the hollow interior of the papier-mâché brain head, then continues fixing her under-costume dress. "What you should be doing is jumping back in."

"Not likely."

"Meet someone new — ,"

" — nah — ,"

" — maybe at Jou and Yamato's decades costume party — ,"

" — nope — ,"

" — or Sora's masquerade ball at the design institute — ,"

" — no — ,"

" — or the karaoke club that Koushiro's firm is hosting. So many options!"

"Which one's yours?"

Mimi just laughs, "None of them."

"Yeah?"

"At least not right away. I have to keep the people waiting. Thirsting, if you will."

"Won't," he jokes, but she's not paying attention, preoccupied with touching up her makeup. Taking a chance, he pulls up to a red light and glances into the mirror again. And stops again. And stares again.

"What?" she mumbles, using her hand mirror to finish lining her lips in a dark red, her hair teased into waves. Not a costume in sight, or not one he recognizes. Just her.

"Nothing," but his answer comes too quick, and she notices that, too. He shakes his head, uncharacteristically flustered. "I mean, sometimes I just forget that you always look like that."

Mimi returns to her reflection with a knowing smile, focusing on her lower lip line. "Always look like what?"

"Don't start," he warns her flatly, trying to keep the amusement from his voice.

"You started it." She caps the lipstick tube and finds him where she'd left him, still staring at her in the rear view. The light turns green, but the car stays stalled. All she has is the courage of a couple drinks and a fun night, and the fact that when she'd seen his car pulling up outside the bar and met Hikari's winking nod in her direction, she knew of only one way to make the night better. Emboldened, she teases, "Yagami."

He tilts his head, eyebrow raised, the smirk taking far too long to find its way across his mouth. A car horn blares behind them, but his hand doesn't move on the gearshift. "Tachikawa."

There are a million things she knows she should do next, but only one thing she does. Holding his gaze, she closes the compact mirror case and uncrosses her legs, sinking down the leather backseat so her cinnamon blonde hair draws a halo behind her. His lips part, and hers smile slow. "Tell me. How do I look?"