Disclaimer: Digimon is the property of Toei. That is all.

Summary: Mimi's come back to Japan, and she's set her sights on a certain Yamato Ishida.

Author's Note: I will probably revamp chapters... mash them together somehow later on. And I've delved a bit more into the characters... trying to develop them a little more so they're not obvious villains or whatever. Like they all have sides to them. You know, it's not fun to have characters who are all boring and bitchy. Yeah. Something like that.

IN THE EYES OF PERFECTION
—Chapter Four: Interrupted—
By Ascendo Tuum

"What's eating you tonight?" Sora asked, watching him as she twirled slippery strands of spaghetti round a fork. The two were in La Piccola Cucina, a cozy and homely Italian restaurant downtown, known for its hearty pasta and appetizers.

Yamato looked up, startled like a deer in headlights, before he shook it off. "Oh. Nothing. Nothing at all," he added for emphasis, fumbling with his cutlery.

She laughed, a short mirthless laugh. "Really? You've been eying the meatballs like they've gone and killed Takeru."

"It's nothing," he repeated irritably in a tone that suggested the conversation was to come to an end now.

She shrugged at last. "Whatever." Sipping her wine, she then locked gazes with her husband's cobalt blue eyes. "Yama-chan, you know you can tell me anything. I promise I won't bite." He chuckled in response but did not offer much more conversation. "Yama-chan, I know you. I know everything about you. I know when you're happy, when you're sad, hell I even know when you're horny—"

He snorted, and said shortly, "That's not very difficult to do."

"Yamato! Do you not trust me? Christ, what's wrong with you?"

"I would tell you if there was something to tell you," he answered testily. "There isn't. I've tried to tell you that but you won't listen. Have some faith in me." Like you'd really want to know that Mimi came back... rain on your parade worse than mine. I'm doing you a favor. Just shut up and eat, I already had enough of a bad day. He stabbed his fork into a meatball, and began chewing angrily.

"Alright alright, I won't push it," Sora conceded at last, though she would not forget. She decided to ask him about it again later. No point in ruining dinner, she'd lose her appetite and the pasta alfredo was just too good to not eat and ask to doggybag. Some foods were never meant to be eaten as leftovers, and the pasta was one of them, at least at this particular restaurant anyway,

"Good. I was just about to say 'end of discussion' anyway." The couple ate in silence, the tension palpable in the candlelit atmosphere about them.

Sora did not like how furtive her husband was acting, it was all very suspicious and she did not like to be left in the dark about things. She ate her pasta, chewing thoughtfully, running scenarios in her mind that would suggest clues as to Yamato's brusque behavior tonight. She couldn't think of anything. JNSA, Japanese National Space Association, had been doing quite well in their recent missions. So there wouldn't be anything wrong at work. Their marriage was fine. Maybe it wasn't picture-perfect, but not a lot of things were picture-perfect in life so that didn't count. So what could be bothering him?

A tuxedo-clad waiter came by and discreetly refilled her glass with the remaining wine.

Minutes ticked by, and they continued to eat. At last, Yamato gave into the silence as he pushed away his cleared plate. "Dessert?"

"Sure, why not." She waved over a waiter, and he promptly handed her the dessert menus. Sora skimmed it over, mulling over the contents. "The gelato sounds good."

"I think I'll get a cup of cappucino and a slice of tiramisu."

"You won't be able to sleep. Even a little caffeine keeps you up."

"I don't have work tomorrow," he reminded her.

"Still, it's not good to disrupt your sleeping schedule."

"Sora, you're not my mother. I'm quite capable of taking care of myself. And if you're concerned about health, look at you. You've been cooped up in your studio for a long time now, and you come home late each night bone-tired and just about ready to drop dead."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" she asked teasingly.

His eyes flashed angrily. "Is that how highly you think of me?"

"I was kidding! God, Yamato, what's got you so tense and stressed out?" She shook her head, surprised at his bitter fury.

Yamato sighed irritably. "I said it before and I guess I'll have to say it again. It's nothing, and it will continue to remain nothing because it really is nothing."

"Why don't you let me get close?"

"You speak as if I've been blowing you off for a long time. Is that how you feel?" He softened at last, covering one of her hands with his own.

"No Yamato, but I hate seeing you look so upset. Please tell me."

"It's no big deal. I'll take care of it."

"Take care of what?" Sora near slammed her fist on the table. "Stop trying to be the gentleman shielding me from all these 'horrors'. Did the doctor say you have something? Is JNSA letting you go? What is it! Let me know please. Yamato, marriage is about compromise, about sharing. Please, talk to me."

"Sora-chan… Sora… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I just don't want to bog you down with trivial issues. I know how important your work is to you right now, especially now, and I don't want you to have to deal with problems that shouldn't be there. Please, just forget it."

She stared at him, her eyes rimming with unshed tears. "I hate this Yamato. I hate your chauvinist thinking. You obviously think I'm too weak to handle a simple little problem, don't you?" He opened his mouth but she savagely cut him off. "You think I'm like …Mimi." She breathed heavily, her tears beginning to recede back into the depths as the name left an unexplainably foul taste in her mouth.

"I would never think of such a thing!" He swallowed a spoonful of his cake and sighed. "Well. Now that you mention it…" He set down his cup, wondering how to go about with this. He hadn't intended to tell her--preferably, she'd never know--but her questioning and upset expression had set the wheels in motion for a confession.

"What!"

"Mimi's back."

Sora blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. There was a sharp intake of breath. "What?" She repeated again in a quieter voice, obviously unable to comprehend what he had just said.

"She's back. Here. In Japan."

"Why?"

"I don't know. She's a model now, Sora."

Sora felt a bit of her old rivalry and long repressed feelings of jealousy rear on their heads. Her tone hardened. "I see. So she's finally put her pretty face to purpose."

"I guess."

"Is she famous? Popular? Rich?"

Yamato noted how she ignored asking him why exactly the woman was back in Japan. Instead Sora seemed to prefer to find out her status right now, perhaps to feel more superior should Mimi be some new girl trying to throw herself into everyone's campaigns and curry favors. No doubt Sora would want to have the satisfaction of having shot down Mimi. "I don't know Sora. I just saw her when I dropped by Isahara."

"Why's she there?"

"She intends to model for the upcoming shows. I'd assume she would want someone to represent her and keep her interests and reputation at heart, aside from her agent."

"What does she look like now? Same silly girl with the cotton-candy pink hair?" She asked derisively. "With the baby voice and the innocent naivete that I saw through ever since I've known her?"

"Sora, I don't know. Stop asking me about her when I obviously don't know."

"Sorry," she answered docilely and resumed eating her tri-flavored gelato.

"Can we just forget everything?"

"Yes. I would like that."

"Good." They finished their meal and then Yamato paid the waiter and left a tip. He slid an arm round her as they walked out the restaurant towards the nearby parking lot to go home.

There were a lot of unanswered questions brimming in Sora's mind and she intended to get answers.