Bed of Nails
A Digimon Fanfiction
by Kit Spooner



Disclaimer: Oh, just sod off! (With apologies to U2 and Fiona Apple)

Warnings: Might as well try to be a bit more succinct about the warnings this time. Anyway. This fic features several random pairings (Kouyako, Kensuke, Yamasorachi, Jyoumi, and hints of all sorts of other crap) and frank, explicit discussions of sex, peppered with relatively inappropriate butchering of the English language. Oh, and a healthy dose of four-letter words. Funfun.

Why am I doing this, you ask? Well, I think we're all in agreement that the end of Digimon 02 was a piece of guttertripe and wasn't worthy of its air-time. It also sucked big, fat monkey ass. And I like my pairings. I think they even make sense. Kinda.

Moving right along . . .



Last Time: Miyako was well on her way to Getting Koushirou through a carefully orchestrated 'chance' meeting at the University, but then flipped out for some unexplained reason. It's looking like their past relationship (or lack thereof) is in the process of coming back to bite Miyako in the ass. Repeatedly.



Once my lover, now my friend
What a cruel thing to pretend
What a cunning way to condescend
Once my lover, and now my friend
Oh, you creep up like the clouds
And you set my soul at ease
Then you let your love abound
And you bring me to my knees
Oh, its evil, babe, the way you let your
grace enrapture me
When will you know, I'd be insane
to ever let that dirty game recapture me





Part Two: Sleight of Hand



Meanwhile, Miyako was busy banging her head against the bulletproof glass of the bus window.

"I . . . am . . . a . . . fucking . . . moron," she ground out between each dull thud.

The rest of the passengers on the bus, clearly used to this sort of strange behavior from local youths, cheerfully ignored her personal abuse.

I really should have known better, Miyako told herself angrily. I mean, he's done crazy shit like this before, the stupid fuck! She ground her teeth.

This whole Grand Plan was turning into a disaster. And of course, Daisuke would want to hear how things were going, and there was no way she could hide a failure of this magnitude from him.

But it was more than just complete and utter mortification in the face of Daisuke's laughter. What pissed Miyako off the most was that she'd underestimated Koushirou's abilities to forgive . . . and greatly underestimated her own attraction to the boy. It was frustrating the way he'd simply smiled and apologized nicely and she'd been ready to forgive him all his mistakes and foibles.

And he made her feel guilty; guilty for events that hadn't been completely under her control. Sure, Koushirou had been her second choice at the time, after Jyou, but the argument that ensued once the truth came out went far beyond simple hurt.



"Why the sudden change of heart, Yolei?" Koushirou had asked on a balmy, early-summer evening. Still surfing on the crest of smug self-approval that followed his high school graduation, he'd finally caved under Miyako's insistent pressure and asked her out on a date. They hadn't yet set up the specifics for their 'date,' but that would come later. For now, they simply enjoyed each other's company as they strolled down the toward the Ai Mart.

"You mean, why'd I hang around you so much even while I was still lusting desperately after Kido Jyou?" Miyako's smile was decidedly wicked and it made her look like a naughty child. She was, of course, well aware of the effect these smiles had on Koushirou. She wasn't stupid.

"Yeah. That." Koushirou nodded. "I thought you were desperately in love with Jyou . . ."

Miyako laughed loudly, startling a few sparrows that were foraging along the sidewalk they were ambling down. "Love? Hell, no. I've never been in love in my entire life, Izzy, and I certainly wouldn't pick Jyou for a trial run. No, I just kinda liked him. But that's not the point." She grinned and linked her arm with Koushirou's. "The point is that it wasn't so much a change of heart as it was a realization that you were still waiting for me to stop being such a silly little twit. I finally noticed you, Izzy." Her eyes were almost solemn as she gazed up at him. "Is that so hard for you to believe?"

Koushirou swallowed nervously. Miyako knew he'd never had a great deal of contact with members of the opposite sex and her proximity was probably freaking him out quite a bit. She bit down on another smile. He was just too adorable for his own good. She absently wondered how he'd be in bed . . .

Enough time for that sort of thing later, she reminded herself sternly.

At least Koushirou was noticing her. Jyou had done a truly pathetic job of remembering that she was female. Koushirou's reactions to her were much more satisfying. He blushed when she smiled at him, trembled each time she brushed up against him when they walked side by side. And even now he seemed adorably flustered by having Miyako attached to his arm, her left breast pressing against him intimately.

Miyako had always known that Koushirou was sort of attracted to her, in a general kind of way. Throughout high school he shot her glances, a sort of intense stare that Miyako eventually interpreted as the computer geek version of a wolf whistle, or maybe a leer. And of course Miyako encouraged this sort of thing. Miyako's ego was almost as overwhelming as Daisuke's was and she liked confirmation of her status as a desirable, irresistible vixen. Even if it had to come from Izumi Koushirou.

Koushirou's obvious affection for her made him the obvious replacement for the lost Jyou. Poor Izzy wasn't nearly as handsome as Jyou, but he had two things going for him. First of all, Koushirou was marginally better at social interactions than Jyou was. More importantly, however, was the fact that Koushirou wouldn't turn Miyako down flat, as Jyou had.

The Kido Rejection had, of course, precipitated a royal scene. Miyako had never been so furious with a boy before. Or at least it felt that way at the time. Jyou's reasoning for refusing to date Miyako was that he was waiting for Mimi. It was common knowledge among the Odaiba Chosen that Jyou had been desperately in love with Mimi almost from the moment he clapped eyes on her. And Mimi, despite popular rumors that she fancied Yamato, had eventually found herself returning Jyou's feelings.

Then Mimi had moved to America. Poor Jyou still talked with her via email on a regular basis, but it wasn't the same. So he got over his moping, finished high school, and waited for Mimi to return.

Mimi, social butterfly of the Chosen, continued to date while in America. She went through near a dozen boys in her first year there, none of them terribly serious relationships. She missed Jyou terribly, but couldn't help herself. Miyako heard about all of this straight from Mimi herself. Miyako's childhood adoration of the older Chosen of Purity hadn't faded over the years and she was fanatical about their email correspondence. And Mimi loved having someone to share juicy tidbits of gossip with. It was a perfect relationship.

Finally, when Miyako told Mimi about her goal to date (to some extent) all of the Odaiba Chosen, Mimi moved quickly from laughter to excitement. It was such a fabulously fun idea that Mimi was surprised that she hadn't attempted it first herself. So after the current list of Dated Chosen was discussed and dissected (particularly Miyako's bizarre relationship with Daisuke), Mimi offered up Jyou as the next for Miyako to attack. Mimi's approval was a tacit bestowal of permission to date her sometimes boyfriend.

Too bad Jyou was neither interested physically in Miyako nor attracted by her wild flirting. All in all, it was an unmitigated disaster which left Miyako in a bit of a funk for a week or so. Then Miyako decided that what she needed to boost her spirits was a good fling. And Koushirou was there, so she grabbed her chance.

Wooing Koushirou was an entirely novel experience for Miyako. It didn't involve much of the spectacular flirting that usually went along with the process. All Miyako really had to do to draw Koushirou was to spend good, honest time with the boy. They chatted about their Digimon partners and discussed some of Koushirou's wilder theories about the Digital World. It was very low-stress, for Miyako, which was exactly what she needed at the time.

Yep, I think he's good for me, Miyako mused silently, giving Koushirou a quick sidelong glance. Maybe I ought to keep him for a while. Would it be so bad to have a steady relationship with someone like Izzy? Someone I have so much in common with, someone who I can get along with without tricky mental acrobatics? Miyako was still a little shell-shocked from her last relationship with a Chosen which had ended six months ago. Sora had regretfully told Miyako that she was going to resume dating Yamato. And thus ended Miyako's first romantic relationship with a girl.

Koushirou was still blushing a little after Miyako's declaration of her interest in him. There was also an odd expression on his face, one that Miyako couldn't begin to recognize.

"So does that answer your question, Izzy?" she asked curiously. She was ready to fast-forward through all the technical relationshippy details and get on with the snogging.

For a moment, Koushirou just continued to stare steadily at her. Then his eyes narrowed slightly and his gaze hardened. "You did want Jyou," he corrected her bluntly, his blush blurring into anger. "I'm the rebound."

"That's not true!" Miyako lied defensively, almost shouting. "I wanted you. I always did!"

"Don't lie to me!" Koushirou roared furiously.

Miyako was speechless. How on earth had Koushirou found out about the final break with Jyou? Could Mimi have . . .

"Jyou told me," Koushirou answered her unspoken question. "I'd mentioned in an email that I thought you'd been eyeing me for a while now. And he warned me about you. And what you wanted."

Miyako made a soft, strangled sound, deep in her throat.

"I'm not willing to be just another trophy for you, Miyako," Koushirou said, his voice rising. Miyako had never seen him angry, but it looked like she was about to witness his fury first-hand.

"It's not like that . . ." Miyako began, frantically trying to organize her defense in a coherent manner. But all she could think of was how Koushirou had been able to hide his hurt and his anger from her all day long.



And so the fight began, with a sort of fury that was entirely unexpected and deeply painful to both of them. Both Miyako and Koushirou were people who felt things very deeply, though Miyako was more used to expressing those feelings. The result was a spectacular display of wounded pride, thwarted affection, and a hefty dose of pure, dumb rage.

We actually got into a bit of a fist-fight, Miyako mused, still slumped in the back of the bus. She'd slapped him first, then he'd retaliated with a hefty shove that sent her sprawling in the grass. Then she'd tried to kick him in the knee and when he dodged and gave her a look of blistering scorn, she struck out with her fist and blackened his eye.

In retrospect, the battle certainly seemed a little ridiculous.

And it hurt. Oh, how it hurt! It wasn't merely the rejection. Miyako had been rejected before, Jyou being merely one of the more recent examples. In fact, she generally failed more frequently than she succeeded, since high school boys tended to turn timid under the full-force of Miyako's energetic, aggressive flirting.

What really cut to the core was how easily, how simply Koushirou had tricked her into thinking he was truly interested in her. It hadn't been until the final moments of the brawl that Miyako realized how efficiently Koushirou had pulled the rug, the floor, and the whole damn world out from under her feet.



"I can't believe you went through with this solely for the purpose of humiliating me." The fight had gone out of Miyako's body by now and she was nearly in tears, though still glaring at Koushirou. And oh, how tired she was! Her hand smarted from the punch she'd landed and her hip ached from her fall. "I should have known that you weren't just trying to get into my panties. Why would the great and austere Izumi Koushirou stoop to chasing the village bicycle? Not everyone wants to ride, I guess."

Koushirou grew even angrier at her words, his face so red it clashed sickeningly with his hair. "Rest assured, Miyako-san," he began, his tone cold and his words clipped. The formality of his speech made Miyako's tears fall faster. "I have absolutely no interest in your panties or the wonders contained within. And bicycles are completely out of the question." And with that final blow, he turned and stalked off.

Miyako stared in shock at his retreating back for a moment, then darted after him and grabbed his arm. "You expect me to believe that you had no interest at all in fucking me?"

Koushirou spun around and looked haughtily down at Miyako, his expression cold. "Yes, I do expect you to believe that, Miyako-san," he said, still looking down his nose at her, which was an impressive feat considering he was not much taller than she was. "It's the truth. I was never interested in joining the ranks of your ex-lovers, no matter how enjoyable the experience might have been." His lips thinned disapprovingly. "Now let go of my arm, please."

Miyako didn't let go. "I saw the way you were looking at me!" she shouted fiercely. "You looked at me in exactly the same way all the other boys do. Don't think I'm stupid because I act silly all the time. I'm not. And you watched me. I know you did. Don't you dare try to deny it, Izumi Koushirou, because . . ."

"I wouldn't dream of denying it," Koushirou replied, smoothly cutting her off. "After all, would you have gone out with someone who didn't leer appropriately at you?" His expression softened, but only slightly. "But you were my friend. I didn't believe what Jyou told me, so I wanted to prove him wrong. And I failed spectacularly." He pulled his arm out of her grip. "Goodbye, Miyako."



Miyako had followed up the Koushirou Disaster with several energetic afternoons with Daisuke. This did little to appease her wounded pride, but it did take the edge off her horniness. And from there she'd moved on.

Or at least, I damn well tried, Miyako corrected. At the moment, it looked like Koushirou's return into her life would be about as gentle as a knife-fight.

Eventually, the bus ground to a halt, brakes squealing in protest, and Miyako got off. The apartment building that had been Miyako's home for more than ten years loomed overhead. She sighed wearily and trudged inside to the elevator.

I think it's time to go talk to Takeru, Miyako decided. He's a guy. Maybe he'll understand what the hell kind of bug crawled up Izzy's ass. And why the hell he suddenly came onto me after the long period of estrangement . . .'

Takeru and his mother had moved into the building at approximately the same time that the Inoues had, and the two families still remained close, particularly Takeru and Miyako. So when Miyako came storming in through their front door without bothering to knock, Mrs. Takaishi remained calm and simply smiled at the irritable girl.

"Good afternoon, Miyako, dear," the older woman said kindly. "Takeru's in his room."

"Thanks," Miyako murmured as politely as she could. Then she stomped off to find the blonde boy.

As promised, Takeru was in his bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the floor in the middle of a pile of rumpled wrapping paper, a snarl of tangled ribbon, and several sheets of tissue paper. The first thing that occurred to Miyako when she saw him was that he'd reverted to childhood and creating some sort of quasi-artistic sculpture. Then she realized that in the center of the paper that he was wrestling with was a small box.

"Holy shit, Teek!" Miyako burst out laughing. "Are you trying to wrap a present for someone?" She plopped down on the floor next to him and pulled an errant curl of ribbon out of his hair.

Takeru peered grumpily over at Miyako and snatched the scrap of ribbon back. This left his package unencumbered and it promptly exploded, paper and tissue scattering. "Fuck," Takeru muttered.

"Would you like some help?" Miyako offered. While it was amusing watching Takeru battle gift wrap, she figured she'd be able to steer the conversation to Koushirou faster if the wrapping got done.

Takeru gave Miyako a ridiculously pathetic look, complete with pouting mouth and sad blue eyes. "Please!" he gushed.

Miyako giggled and kissed the boy on the cheek. "Sure thing, handsome." She scooted closer and inspected the pile of paper. "So who's the lucky recipient of this . . . whatever it is . . ." She began to carefully clear excess paper, searching for the present.

"It's a belated graduation present for Hikari," Takeru said mournfully. "I didn't know we were going to be exchanging grad presents until she suddenly presented me with one after the ceremony."

"And it took you three weeks to produce a present for her?" Miyako snorted.

"I had to find just the right present and then it took a couple weeks to get it made." Takeru absently ran his fingers through his unruly hair. "She's going to fucking kill me if the present isn't good enough."

"I . . . don't think that'll be a problem," Miyako murmured as she dug her way down through the paper and found the exquisite presents. First there was a tiny, polished-wood chest with a hinging lid and a tiny brass clasp. The chest was covered in carvings that prominently featured the Crests of Light and Hope, entwined and surrounded by swirling, abstract designs. On top of the chest lay a silver bangle with a similarly abstract design etched on it. The design was irregular, however, asymmetrical and it looked sort of like . . .

"What does this say?" Miyako suddenly asked, peering closely at the bracelet. "I don't even recognize the characters or the language."

"The message is a secret," Takeru said smugly. Now that he had Miyako's approval he felt much more sure of himself. "I just remembered that 'Kari had a passing interest in learning the ancient hieroglyphs of the Digital World, back when we were little kids. So I got Patamon to research it for me and I had this bracelet commissioned. Gatomon ought to be able to translate what it says for 'Kari. So you really think she'll like it?"

"Of course she will," Miyako snapped. "She'll probably even like it so much that she'll forgive you for being three weeks late. And then there'll be the fabulous celebratory sex."

"I can always Hope," he replied with a small smirk, his finger tracing the outline of the Crest of Hope on the wooden chest.

"Smartass," Miyako accused fondly. "But anyway, before you give this to 'Kari we'll have to get it wrapped nicely. Your first mistake was to try and set the bracelet on top of the box and wrap it that way. Even if you did a good job it would be lumpy." She flipped open the little clasp and opened the lid of the chest. "Did it ever occur to you to just put the bracelet in the box, genius?"

Takeru looked suitably embarrassed.

"I'll take that as a 'no.'" Miyako put the bangle in the box and pulled out a fresh sheet of gift-wrap. "Now just watch while I wrap this up. Then you might be able to manage it on your very own next time." She cleared more rumpled paper from her work space. "Your second mistake, by the way, was trying to put tissue paper into this whole mess. What the hell were you thinking? Tissue paper is for fucking padding when you're wrapping something fragile . . ."

Miyako was clever with her hands and deftly folded and taped until the package was tidily wrapped. Then she briskly decorated the present with ribbon and pulled out a little gift tag for Takeru to fill out. Throughout the process, she kept up a steady stream of instructions, commentary, and pointers for future projects. Miyako also mentioned that she was the Master Wrapper in her household, and therefore she was one of the best that Takeru would ever meet.

Miyako was a girl who knew where her talents lay. One of them was in wrapping and decorating gifts in creative and elegant ways. Other talents were less marketable . . . . which drew her thoughts back to the reason she'd come to see Takeru.

"Well, now that the wrapping emergency is taken care of," Miyako began, tossing the finished present to a rather awe-struck Takeru. "There are more important things to discuss."

"Like . . . ?" Takeru prompted curiously.

"Izzy," Miyako answered in a tone of voice that made her frustration clear.

"Oh, geez." Takeru shook his head. "You've resumed your hunt for the elusive Izumi?" He snickered. "Poor Koushirou!"

"It's not funny, you jackass!" Miyako snapped irritably. "This is serious!"

Takeru leaned over and enfolded his upset friend in a warm hug. "Sorry, Miya. I didn't know you were taking this so seriously."

"I know, I know," Miyako sighed and snuggled closer to Takeru. "It's just got me on edge. I spent weeks setting up a way to 'accidentally' run into him and now that I have . . ." She trailed off, turning her head to inhale the comforting scent of Freshly Washed Takeru.

"What, did he reject you again like the cold-hearted, soulless bastard that he is?" Takeru's tone was gentle and sympathetic.

"What did you call him?!" Miyako was surprised. She didn't know that Takeru had any sort of old grudge against Koushirou.

"The same thing you called him two years ago when you told me about your little spat," Takeru replied smoothly. "I'm assuming he acted in approximately the same way?"

"No! And that's the problem!" Miyako closed her eyes and concentrated on Takeru's heartbeat, hoping to calm her own.

"Huh?" Takeru was baffled. Miyako didn't have to look at his expression to realize that. "You mean he didn't bitch you out?"

"The self-righteous little prick tried to kiss me, Teek!" Miyako was rather confused herself. She had no idea why Koushirou's sudden comradery and affection should frighten her so much. It just had to be some sort of trick to get back at her. It had to be something . . .

"Whoa," said Takeru, momentarily caught without something remotely useful or clever to say.

"It just doesn't make sense!" Miyako held Takeru tighter. "I mean, he has to have an ulterior motive here, doesn't he? He's trying to get revenge for my hurting him two years ago, right?"

Takeru pondered the issue for a moment. "Have you considered the possibility that he might be genuine?" He absently stroked her hair. "I mean, he's always had the hots for you . . ."

Miyako pulled back from Takeru and stared at him. "He has?! Since when?"

"Since as long as I can remember, I think," Takeru replied.

"But . . . he never showed any of the signs of it . . ." Miyako spluttered.

"Ah, but that's because our Koushirou has always been a strange sort of boy," Takeru explained carefully. "He doesn't bother with the usual social conventions of flirting and making calf-eyes at the girls he likes. He's used to the more logical workings of his laptop."

Miyako gaped.

"I can't believe you never picked up on it, Miya," Takeru chided with a small smile. "I mean, c'mon, you're the heir to Sora's Crest. Love's supposed to be your department, dear, isn't it?"

Miyako snickered. "Well, I'm also Mimi's heir, but I'm not exactly a shining paragon of Purity, am I?" Her tone was heavy with self-deprecating sarcasm.

"It depends on whether you define Purity by social or spiritual conventions," Takeru mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

"That's not the point," Miyako broke in. "I still need to know what the hell I should do about Izzy!"

"Well, if he makes you so damned uncomfortable, why not just avoid him?" It was a logical suggestion.

"I can't," Miyako wailed. "He's the T.A. for my summer computer class! I have to see him every day."

"How about just going ahead with your plan and boffing him?" Takeru suggested mildly. "Isn't that what you were planning on doing in the first place?"

"Yes, but . . ." Miyako frowned. "Sex is such a vulnerable sort of thing. It would leave me open to all sorts of attacks from him. And I don't mean physical, Teek. I mean, he could insult me, say that I'm an awful lay, or . . ."

"But we both know that insults of those kind would be pointless, right?" Takeru grinned slyly. "I think we can both agree that you're gorgeous. And I can certainly vouch for your prowess in bed . . ."

Miyako smiled a little and gave Takeru a quick kiss on the lips. It was true, though. Takeru had certainly enjoyed his little fling with Miyako a year or so ago. He'd actually approached her with his proposition, instead of the usual Miyako-flirting. The story was that he and Hikari had just slept together for the first time and it had been an unmitigated disaster that left both young lovers unsatisfied and sore and thoroughly embarrassed. So Takeru had asked Miyako for some pointers. The discussion of sexual techniques had eventually led to demonstrations. There was nothing more than friendship between the two, but they'd decided all the same to not mention the little teaching session to Hikari, who had never commented on Takeru's sudden increased skills in lovemaking.

"You might be right, but he could still hurt me," Miyako admitted. "The worst part is that I miss having him as a friend."

"Then you probably should have thought twice about selecting him as your next male target," Takeru said pointedly with a slight frown.

"I know," Miyako said mournfully. "You're right again. But now that I've started, I don't want to stop." She snuggled in next to Takeru once more.

"Poor little Miya," he said gently, caressing her arm soothingly with his fingers. "Don't worry about the future. Just remember the rest of your friends will be here to help you pick up the pieces if you fall."

"Thanks, Teek," Miyako murmured against Takeru's t-shirt. They cuddled in silence for a while before Miyako spoke up again. "Can I sleep here with you tonight?" she asked in a tiny, childlike voice as she ran her hands along his thigh in a subtly seductive manner.

"Nice try, Miyako," Takeru said with a small chuckle as he pulled slightly away and kissed the tip of her nose.

Miyako grinned wryly. "Well, it was worth a shot . . ."









Next Time: Miyako finally has to report in to Daisuke about her success with Koushirou. Will she be able to save face by sneaking around the issues? And to top this all off, she has to go back to class . . . and Koushirou, who is certainly baffled by Miyako's bizarre, inexplicable behavior. And now that Daisuke is chasing Ken, Koushirou is being scary, and Takeru is remaining faithful to Hikari, how on earth will Miyako get her regularly scheduled nookie?