Takeru hummed quietly as he stirred the... whatever it was... noodle thing. He'd found it in the cabinet and it looked edible, so he was fixing it. If he could make it and digest it, there wasn't a problem. He glanced up and eyed Daisuke, who was sitting on the arm of the couch in the living room, staring out the balcony window. Wearing Takeru's clothes.

Almost as if he felt Takeru watching him, Daisuke twisted and made a face at him. "God, your pants are riding my ass like hell." He got up and squirmed. "Got a belt or something?"

"Yeah, hanging on the right of my closet. Help yourself."

Daisuke headed into Takeru's bedroom, unbuttoning the pants and sagging them down on his waist. "Geez," he mumbled, pulling the insane wedgie out of his ass and nudging open the closet with his foot. Making disapproving noises under his breath as he flipped through Takeru's closet, he eyed the disgusting lack of variety. He paused to grab a belt and settled the pants a few inches lower than they really should have been, then continued prowling around the bedroom.

The boy paused at a shelf with a stack of CDs on it and flipped through them. "Ugh, ugh, ugh, that's not bad, ugh, oh my GOD I didn't know ANYONE owned one of these anymore... ugh, ugh, ugh... Terrible taste in music." He dropped the CDs back on the shelf and continued his exploration.

Basketball, tennis shoes, dirty clothes... the normal teenage jock stuff... He glanced for a bookcase and found none. "Not surprising..." The closest thing to a bookshelf was a desk covered with papers.

Swiping a few and sitting on the bed – which was made neatly, Daisuke noted with disgust – he flipped through them. The typical notes made in classes... nothing juicy. "God!" Shoving the papers back down on the desk he glanced around the room once more, then flounced out into the kitchen. Crossing his arms and glaring at Takeru, he snarled, "How come you don't have anything bribe-worthy in your room? Not even a juicy note from a girlfriend. Are you that boring?"

Takeru raised one eyebrow. "Is that what you were doing in there? I don't even have a girlfriend."

"No?" Daisuke hopped up on the counter and made a face at Takeru. "And why not? Any particular reason?"

"No, not really, just haven't found the right girl yet."

"Liar. You can't get any, can you?"

The door opened before Takeru could respond and both boys looked up. Daisuke slid off the counter abruptly and Takeru smiled halfheartedly at his mom. "Uh, hey mom. Home early?"

"Only to get some papers I forgot... who's this?"

"Um... this is Motomiya Daisuke. He goes to school with me. I hope it's okay he's here, I didn't think you'd be home so soon."

"It's fine, just don't cause any trouble." Mrs. Takaishi smiled at Daisuke. "He looks much nicer than most of your other friends," she noted to Takeru before heading out of the room.

Daisuke smiled brightly at Takeru. "I like your mom, she's smart!"

"Shut up," the blonde groaned. "I mean, not that she isn't smart. Just... oh, shut up."

The darker boy grinned and leaned back on the counter. "I'm hungry, how much longer?"

"Only a few minutes."

Mrs. Takaishi passed back through the kitchen with a folder in her arms. "Okay, hopefully I have everything I need now... hmm." She blinked and studied Daisuke for a moment, then asked, "Why are you wearing Takeru's clothes?"

"We went swimming," Daisuke explained before Takeru could say anything. "And I didn't have anything to change into."

She nodded and smiled again, "Much nicer... much." She turned towards her son and tilted an eyebrow in a half-stern expression. "Wash your dishes when you're done, don't make too much of a mess, and don't stay up too late. I'll be home early tomorrow morning. Nice to meet you, Daisuke," she nodded her head at the red-haired boy and hurried back out the door.

Turning a grin on Takeru, Daisuke raised one eyebrow. "You do know why she asked why I was wearing your clothes, don't you?"

Blinking, the blonde shook his head. He stared at the other for a moment before comprehending the sleazy grin and groaned. "Oh you dirty... What does my mom know anyway? She said she thought you looked nice."

"I am nice," he blinked innocently.

"No, you're an asshole." Taking the pan off the stove, Takeru shook his head again and poured the noodles into two bowls. He was well aware of the fact that he was currently blushing, for some wild reason, and was attempting to hide it. He was also well aware of the fact that Daisuke knew he was blushing and found great amusement in it. So he silently shoved the bowl at Daisuke, flouncing into the living room and turned on the TV.

Daisuke followed and sat down on the couch next to him. "You know, I only mess with you because it's so easy. You have to start fighting back or I'll just... well actually I'll probably get bored and then I'll stop talking to you all together. But that's not the point. I hate this show; change the station."

"I hate it too." Takeru changed the channel and sighed. "There's nothing on."

"Oh well. Turn it off and we'll talk."

"Talk about what?"

"Anything!" Daisuke gave him a look. "We don't need a direction to have a conversation! Just talk to me, c'mon."

"Okay... your parents."

"Not that."

"Yeah, I want to talk about that."

Daisuke shot the blonde a warning glance. "I don't. So stop, I'm not going to talk about it."

"Is that why you tried to overdose?"

"Shut the fuck up, Takeru. I said I'm not going to talk about it."

"I want to know." Daisuke shut his mouth and shook his head once. Instead of arguing, he would just shut Takeru out. The blonde made a disapproving noise and poked at his dinner. "I still don't understand how things could be so bad that-"

"What time did the game start?"

The blonde blinked. "The game? Oh. The soccer game? Home games usually start at 4:30."

"4:30... an hour and a half... plus fifteen minutes for halftime... Game would be over around 6:30. What time is it?"

Takeru peered at his watch. "8:27."

"Dammit. Where's this Ichijouji live again? Tamachi, right?" Daisuke shoved to his feet. "Where's your phone book?"

"Kitchen, third draw from the fridge. Why?" The blonde stood up and followed.

"Because." Daisuke tapped his fingers along the drawers, counting. "Three." He slid it open and pulled out the phonebook, dropping it on the counter and flipping through it. "How far is Tamachi from here?"

"I don't know... if I had to guess, made a half hour?" Takeru leaned against the wall and watched the other run his finger down the page, flip it, then scan for a bit longer before he found what he was looking for. "Why?" he asked again.

"Half an hour by train? Where's the closest station?" Flipping to the front of the book, the darker boy glanced through some city maps before finding the one he wanted. "Got a pen?" he looked up from the book.

The other blinked. "Yeah, half an hour by train. Pen, um..." Fishing around in one of the drawers, Takeru produced one and handed it over. "The closest station is about three minutes from here, I'd guess."

Scribbling an address and a phone number down on the page of the map, Daisuke glanced up at the blonde. Ripping the page out of the book, he shrugged, "Look, Takeru. I'm not gonna drag you along on this if you don't want to go, but if you agree to come with me you'd better not cause any problems."

"I won't. Where are we going?"

Closing the phone book and putting it back in the drawer, the redhaired boy held the torn out map up to Takeru. "Ichijouji. We could wait until tomorrow for Koushiro and everyone else, or we could just take matters into our own hands."

"Are you sure that would be a good idea? Yamato and Taichi..."

"Yamato and Taichi don't have to know about it unless it turns out okay. Understand?" Daisuke narrowed one eye. "See, here's my plan. I don't have one. So are you coming?"

"Wait, you don't have a plan?" Takeru blinked and followed Daisuke on his way back to his bedroom. "I'm confused."

"Do you happen to have any hats? The only plan I have is to go and kidnap Ichijouji Ken and squeeze information out of him. Scare him so bad that if he talks he'll be convinced we'll hunt him down again and axe him. Great plan, huh? Do you have any hats?"

Groaning under his breath, the blonde opened his closet and fished around on the top shelf. "Here," he handed one to Daisuke, fished around again for a minute, and then pulled out another. "I don't think I have any more."

"No big deal, we only need two." Daisuke looked over the baseball hat, adjusted the strap, then plopped it on his head and glanced at himself in the mirror. "Hmm." He pulled it off and put it back on backwards. He yanked it off once more, shrugging with either slight satisfaction or lack or caring, and turned around to eye Takeru. "So. Are you coming? This won't be easy. I'll remind you that being with me is like a death curse when you're on the streets. Do you have a jacket?"

Sighing and turning back to the closet, Takeru pulled out a jacket and then a zip-up hoodie. "This is the closest I can get. Everything else I own is..."

"Ugly?" Daisuke finished the sentence and tossed the jacket back to him. "You wear that. Suits your style a little better. Coming?"

"Yes."

"Good. Let's go."

Takeru turned off the light in his room and followed Daisuke, still rather confused but encouraged by the idea that he'd just been invited along to go on a little mission alone with Daisuke. He wasn't lying when he said there was no plan to buddy up with him, but honestly it wasn't like Takeru would mind being friends with him...

Daisuke hummed to himself the entire time the two sat on the train. Takeru, sitting next to him, was busy staring around the rest of the car. He noticed that every time he'd look to the left, there was a guy in a red shirt staring back. There was also a girl on the right that was checking out Daisuke and trying to be flirtatious, except he was too involved in his own thoughts and humming to notice. Glancing to the left again, the red shirt guy was still watching. He caught Takeru's eye and turned away.

The blonde blinked, watching for another moment before fishing in the pockets of his jacket and finding a pen that was nearly out of ink and an old receipt from some store or another. He scribbled on it 'red shirt watching us?' and, casting his glance around the car again, discreetly tilted the paper towards Daisuke.

The humming stopped for a moment, then started up again as the darker boy ripped the paper out of his hand and crumpled it up. "Just relax," he hummed under his breath. "Stop soon."

"Not Tamachi," Takeru muttered back.

"Doesn't matter."

The train pulled to a stop a few minutes later and the two boys stood up in unison. Daisuke reached under the hoodie and pulled the hat out of his pocket. "Get your hat on as soon as we get out the doors," he muttered to the blonde. He put the hat on facing frontwards and didn't glance back once as he tugged the other outside. They paused briefly near the doors as Takeru pulled on his white floppy hat and then headed down the long stretch of the subway.

"Don't look back," Daisuke instructed, grabbing Takeru's sleeve and half-dragging him along the platform. They'd only gone a little ways before the redhaired boy jerked him up a stairway. He stopped to turn the hat around backwards on his head, then pulled off the hoodie and handed it to Takeru. "Put this on over your jacket. Give me the hat. Put the hood up. Let's go." Claiming his sleeve again, Daisuke jerked the blonde through a mass of people, weaving his way down the stairs again.

Takeru followed (not like he had a choice) and tried not to glance around nervously. He chewed his lip and focused on not losing track of the other as they worked their way back down the platform. Daisuke led him through the right doors of another train car, out the left doors, down two cars, and shoved him through the left doors. "Sit," he commanded, pulling off his hat and switching it for the white floppy one Takeru had handed him. He sat down in front of the windows, several seats away from the blonde, and ignored the fact that a few people were staring.

Sitting tensely, Takeru did anything besides watch the doors. He picked at the sweatshirt, turned his ticket over in his hands, untied and retied his shoes... Finally, the train started again, and he let out a breath after an inspection of the passengers proved that Red Shirt hadn't followed them.

Daisuke wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and moved to sit down next to Takeru. He handed him the white hat and waited for Takeru to give him back the hoodie. Pulling it on, he sighed a bit. "Well, that was fun."

"What was all that?"

"A very simple way of avoiding our trailing friend. We switched outfits three times to make it hard for him to recognize us, and the crowd made it difficult to keep track. Looks like we're safe for now," Daisuke glanced around the car, then pulled the hat on backwards again. Tossing a gaze at Takeru, he smirked. "You look like Gilligan in that thing."

"You wore it, too."

Daisuke rolled his eyes and settled back against the wall of the car, humming to himself again and shutting his eyes for the rest of the trip.

Takeru yawned and stretched, peering around the city streets. "I hope you know where we're headed, because I sure don't."

"That's what this is for," Daisuke pulled the map he'd torn from the phonebook out of his pocket. "Find me a street sign and tell me where we are." He trailed his finger along the page until he found the street name in the address he'd scribbled at the top of the paper. He glanced up as Takeru wandered down the street to a pole.

The blonde pointed up. "Aichi."

"Aichi... hmm." Glancing over the map, Daisuke found their street and then started tracing a path towards his other finger. "Okay. C'mon."

"What are we looking for?" Takeru followed obediently, trying to peer over Daisuke's shoulder to read the map. "Ukyo?"

"Yeah, it's only a few blocks from here. What time is it now?"

"9:04," Takeru glanced at his watch in the light of a streetlamp. He sighed and glanced around nervously. "My mom would kill me if she found out I was here."

"She won't find out," Daisuke shrugged slightly. "Oh, by the way, what time do you have to be home by?"

The blonde made a face. "Shouldn't you have asked that before we even left? Not until late. Mom probably won't be home until 2."

"I hope Koush doesn't decide to call us all randomly... he'll get suspicious when he realizes you and I are both gone. Taichi would figure it out..." Daisuke stopped and glanced at a street sign, then turned a corner and kept walking.

"How do you know Taichi?" Takeru asked, unconsciously lowering his voice.

"Through Koushiro. Same as your brother. Taichi sort of... clicked with me, though. Not like Koush or Yamato did. He says I remind him of... well, himself. When he was younger. It's sort of nice to see that I won't be completely fucked up when I'm older..." the redhaired boy bit his lip and eyed the map. "Okay, the apartment building is two blocks from here. Now would be a good time to figure out what we want to do."

"We're both obviously school-aged. Something that would have to do with school."

"Okay, we have a rhetoric project where we have to interview someone. And we picked Ken... why?"

"Because we were watching television when we were trying to pick our person and they ran a story on him?" Takeru shrugged.

"Convenience. Works perfectly considering I look like a lazy slob," Daisuke folded the map and shoved it in his pockets. "We're heading to apartment 816, okay? Remember that. And we're taking the stairs."

Sighing, Takeru nodded. "Stairs, right."

On the way up the stairs, Daisuke paused. "Wait, I forgot something. Hat. Put your hat on." The blonde plopped the white hat on his head. Daisuke yanked it down farther so it covered most of his eyes, then tilted his own hat forward so that it shaded his own eyes. "Come on."

Daisuke glanced around the Ichijouji apartment without actually looking like he was scooping it out. His parents had both gone to bed a while ago... time? 10:47, he could barely read Takeru's watch from the angle he was at. The entire time they'd been here, Takeru had been making up questions. He'd repeated some a few times, and he could tell their time was running out before Ken caught on.

Ken, who was sitting in a chair on the other side of the room – Daisuke and Takeru were on a couch – looked like a perfectly normal kid. Not too geeky, not too... well, not too anything, actually. He had a sort of bland appearance. No flaws on this kid, no sir, not even in his indigo hair. It was cut at a sharp angle, almost like it was done with a ruler, and every strand fell straight and in place.

Daisuke blinked and realized he'd been caught staring as Ken fixed him with curious, cold eyes. He coughed and stood up, jerking his thumb at Takeru to do the same. "Wow, it's getting late. Hey, Ichijouji, thank you so much. You've really helped us out here. Homework is a bitch, eh?"

Ken nodded slightly, raising one eyebrow. 'Fuck, he's onto us, he has to be,' the redhaired boy managed an innocent smile.

"Mind showing us to the door?" Takeru said what Daisuke was thinking but didn't dare to push.

"You can't find your own way?" the eyebrow fell back into place in a straight line over his eyes.

Bland! Bland! Holy fucking WHAT I WOULDN'T GIVE TO MESS UP YOUR HAIR... Daisuke's right eye twitched slightly, the only indication of his annoyance. "Takeru feels it's rude to walk through someone's house without an escort," he shrugged slightly, turning to avoid screaming in agony at the perfection.

Takeru made a muffled squeak of protest that he turned into a nervous laugh.

Perfect Ken sighed in slight exasperation. He was slightly tense – nervous and tipped off by the awkwardness of the situation, Daisuke guessed. Mentally, he cursed himself for rushing in without a plan and knew that if Taichi found out about this he'd cuss him out even worse. He groaned at the thought as the two followed Ken towards the door, and the indigo haired boy glanced over his shoulder at him in question. "Uh, just thinking about all the work this project is requiring. I'm okay," he shrugged a bit.

"What?" Takeru whispered.

"I'll explain later," Daisuke shook his head.

Blowing out an exasperated breath, Ken unlocked the apartment door and shoved it open. "There you go! I have walked you to the door! Do you have any more questions or requests?"

The blonde started to open his mouth but Daisuke jabbed him in the stomach with his elbow to shut him up. He buckled over and winced, making a squeak of pain even though it wasn't that hard of a jab. He heard a sharp thud and jerked his head up, blinking.

Rubbing his fist innocently, Daisuke stood over a now unconscious Ken Ichijouji. "Hmm. He may have been perfect but he was one hell of a wuss. I didn't even hit that hard."

"What the hell was that elbow for?" Takeru growled out.

"Sorry. I didn't actually mean to hit you. There's just not much room in this foyer and I was trying to get momentum for the punch. Damn, it wasn't that hard, was it?" the darker boy blinked at the other as he hefted the limp Ichijouji up.

"No, but it still hurt," he complained. "What're we gonna do, just walk out of here with him?"

"Sort of. Look in the drawer of that table there. Find me some paper." Shifting the unconscious Perfect in his arms, Daisuke tilted his head at a table against the wall.

Shrugging, Takeru opened the drawer and sifted through it before he came up with a pad of notepaper. "Will this work?"

"That's perfect. Got a pen?"

"Mine's dead. Wait, I have one now," Takeru pulled a pen from the drawer.

"Write a note to his parents saying we all went out for ice cream and leave it there. We probably won't need it – it's just in case. Let's hope he isn't lactose intolerant," he muttered under his breath and hefted the indigo haired boy up. "Get the spare key, it's hanging on the rack behind me."

Takeru, who hadn't even noticed the rack, (let alone the table, before he'd gone looking through it) glanced up from his note writing. "How do you catch all these things? You don't really seem that alert." Ripping the paper off the pad, he left it on the table and grabbed the key.

"I pay attention to the little things and count on everyone else to pay attention to the rest," Daisuke explained, carrying Ken out the door. "God, he's even light. He must weigh 120 or something. Lock the door," he commanded.

Takeru did so and followed Daisuke as he lugged the boy down the balcony. He blinked when he started for the stairs and the other moved in the direction of the elevator. "Hey, I thought you always used the stairs."

"Not when I have my hands full of a perfect bitch."