A/N: JAXA is Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency. In other words, in reality, Japan's space program, JAXA, is equal to America's NASA.

The twenty-four year old best-selling non-fiction Writer immediately stepped in the middle to separate the peace keeping Ambassador of the Digital World and man's curious Adventurer before the twitching and "accents" would end in a world brink of disaster.

Taichi groaned in defeat allowing maturity to rise back. Running his hand through his neat, short brown hair, which was once a bushy mass of thickness in his childhood, his political side came through.

Holding out a hand, while turning his head away rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand and a sheepish look he asked, "Truce?"

Yamato looked at this strange sight with a small bit of wonderment. How much did he miss in nine years? More importantly, how much did Sora change in nine years? Not that he hadn't kept in touch with everyone with occasional visits, because he did to the best of his ability…That is, he tried with everyone. Except one exceptional Beauty slowly removed herself from all ways of communications.

"Dude?"

What went wrong? It was in no way a breakup. This over-the-seas foreign exchange scholarship was the once in the lifetime opportunity to become a part of The United States NASA. This was what he wanted. And it wasn't as if he took this silver platter package without first discussing this with his girlfriend. Minds were spoken and her blessing was given. So what happened?

"He's doing it again," explained Takeru to Taichi as he continued to look at his best friend with a quizzed expression while his hand remained stretched out in the open air.

Yamato blinked once more returned back to Earth.

"Truce?" Taichi asked once more. Maybe he should just bow like normal instead of the customary American handshake. Maybe he should have brought that tray of finger foods with him. Maybe he would start a food fight after he downed a whole pizza.

Food. Mmm…

Yamato nodded in agreement returning the gesture followed by a bow. "Truce."

"Well, with that over with," Takeru spoke taking the two large, black suitcases in hand, "Let's get these in my place and we'll head – "

"Gaiigiiin, would ya miiind hand'n me that there brand'n iiiiron?" Taichi mocked again teasingly in a horribly fake country accent again. He couldn't resist just one more for old time's sake.

Yamato's eye twitched.

Before his hands could circle around the man's neck a woman's voice could be heard from a distance. Two blondes turned to see; one brunette's face paled.

"Are you arguing with someone again?" the young woman huffed over scolding the brunette. "Yagami Taichi. I will not have my husband making a fool of himself when we're waiting for your best friend."

Dang it. You try to have some manly bonding and your wife has to go track you down. Why?

Taichi grinned making the introductions. "Mrs. Yagami, meet Ishida Yamato."

She blushed giving a small bow having been caught off guard. "It's finally nice to meet you in person."

"Yes, likewise," the famous Astronaut returned the bow. "You're just as beautiful as Taichi has described and more."

"And it would be nice if we could join you, so…" Takeru jumped in, taking in possession the suitcases yet again.

"Yes, of course! The food's getting cold," she said with an angelic voice. "We'll be expecting you shortly."

Taichi placed an arm over his wife's shoulders watching his friends head over to drop off the suitcases then return. Now, how to plan that food fight? Throw food to create a distraction, then grab the rest of the best foods to hide until it was safe to retrieve them later? Or, hide them first then –

Mrs. Yagami poked her husband's chest with a finger speaking in a low and dangerous voice. "And if I catch you throwing a food fight this time you will be taken care of."

He gulped. So much for that.

Plastic gloves were removed from strong, firm hands and tossed into the recycling bin. A sigh could be heard from Kido Jyou as he sat back down at his chair staring at his patient mentally thinking of the diagnosis. He took pride in the title a piece of document could give him: Kido Jyou, M.D, D.G.P – Digimon General Physician, but not when an unexpected event like this could happen.

With a doctoral voice he asked, "Have you been following the nutritional diet I have assigned for you?"

"Yes," came the patient's reply rather weakly.

"Any desire to sleep in all day or avoiding from all contact?"

"No," was the reply with the same manner.

Jyou sighed. "Then let's talk on a more personal level. I'm lost, Sora. What's going on? I'm only certified as a doctor for Digimon, so you really shouldn't even be here."

The auburn hair young woman bit her lower lip lowering her head. What more could she say? Wringing her wrists she raised her head pleading. "Can't you do an ultrasound? Please, you know my financial prospects in my business are booming. Money is not a problem."

"Yes, Sora, but let's face reality. This isn't about your stomach, is it? This has to do with something else. What has been on you mind?"

"Excuse me?" she demanded from her long time friend somewhat taken aback. Where in the world was he going with this?

"Just hold on," he quickly raised his hands in defense. "Sometimes yes, our body gives us signals that something is wrong. But sometimes it's our subconscious that is trying to get our attention. Any nagging thoughts?"

"No," she spoke in a whisper instantly forgiving the last comment. Before Sora could reach for her purse, Jyou rose from his chair as well taking a glance at the wall calendar. It was going to be a wild and off-the-wall guess, but well worth it.

"When was the last time your menstrual came?"

Takenouchi Sora nearly coughed. This was getting just way too personal. "Unless this deals with further observations of the cause of these symptoms I see no relevance to that question."

Jyou cocked his head to the side crossing his arms shaking his head to her response. How was he going to help her is she was unwilling to relay information?

She turned her head away quickly, mumbling an answer, quite unlike her personality. "I-I don't remember…A month I think."

"Look, if you need someone to talk to you have my office, cell, and home number," he said with a warm smile.

"Sure. Thanks, Jyou," she gave him a quick hug.

"By the way, are you going to the party – Ack! Get out of my office!" he demanded pushing her out of his office into the hallway. Sora's cell phone had begun to ring.

"What's going on?" she asked very much bewildered and embarrassed as patients watched the doctor continue to rush, nearly drag, her to the double-door elevators.

"Didn't you know? Turn your cell phone off when entering the premises of a hospital as it may interfere with the machines! We'll continue this conversation at a later day," he ended as he quickly escorted the dazed fashion designer into the elevator, pushing a random floor number and ran back to his assistant picking up the next chart.

Jyou grimaced. "A Candlemon. Nurse, quick!" he whispered his order while searching the crowded seats for his new patient. "Make sure we have antiseptic ointment on hand and bandages."

"For the Candlemon?" she responded confused.

"No, for me. It's been out of personal experience that when a Candlemon has a cold, when they sneeze their flames spread like wildfire and God help you if you're in their path – Ack! I've been contaminated!"

Unfortunately, at that second the Candlemon sneezed, leading trails of flame in every which way possible scorching walls, the tail of Jyou's white coat and consuming his shoes, and nearly missing other Digimon and their partners.

Oh, the contaminated life of a Digimon doctor.

Steam flew into the air as the lid to a container was removed exposing it to the fresh, crisp afternoon air as ten Digidestined were gathered at Odaiba Park celebrating the return of one of their members. One whiff of the intoxicating food and it was hypnotizing. Motomiya Daisuke gave a victory laugh as he placed the lid back on to the container, a serving spoon on top as he spoke to Tachikawa Mimi.

"With us having cook the food this is going to be the best "Welcome Home" party ever! Mimi, did you save me a plate of rice balls on the side?"

A sly smile shown as she rubbed her chin seeming lost in thought to tease. "Hmm, I don't know."

He gawked. "What?"

"Being a cook does have its disadvantages. You have to taste the food to see if it came out alright. And before you know it –"

"Nooooooo! Mimi! How could you? I thought –"

"Oh, Mimi, don't tease Daisuke like that. You'll know he'll get a hernia or something," Yagami Hikari giggled as she came to give Mimi a hug.

Good 'ole, Daisuke. He still stayed the same. "Hikari! You made it!" he exclaimed.

"Of course I did, silly," she winked at Mimi as she continued talking to Daisuke. "You cook the best noodles ever. I couldn't not show up."

Daisuke became so excited he yelled across the outside area directing it to Takeru. "You see that, Tabako? She had to come to see me! Go dance to the polka, you fart geezer!"

Takeru turned with a raised brow in annoyance. Okay…

Hikari snickered. "Of course, Yamato would be sad if I didn't come."

He face faltered. "Oh…Yeah, sure."

"What was that all about?" Yamato asked his younger brother with a small snicker.

Takeru sighed with a smile chuckling. "You know, Daisuke. He won't stop until he can convince Hikari that he's the one."

"Just like you can't seem to muster up the courage to come clean with Hikari?"

Then younger one blushed nearly stuttering in speech. "What?"

Tai jogged over slapping his best friend on the back for an attention grabber. "Just like you can't seem to use my cell phone to call Sora?" then held the phone in the air. "Don't give up. At least convince her to come."

The phone! Of course! If no one could tell him where she lived why not call her? Yamato gulped taking hold of the plastic piece of technology as the remembrance of the very last phone conversation rewound in his mind. Each time he called, her side of the line became even more silent then the last time until eventually the answer machine was his companion.

Not every guy could take an answer machine to rely the message of "not seeing how this relationship will go anywhere". Ouch.

Taichi yelled for everyone to quiet down. Yamato gulped after glancing at Taichi again then searched the address book for her number. If she had caller id it may be a bit deceiving. It was worth a shot, wasn't it?

"Hello?" came a breathless female reply. It seemed as if she had answered in middle of a discussion.

Yamato's heart stopped beating for a few seconds. "Hello, Sora."

Just as the last time the air became still and the other line silent.

"Sora, don't hang up. Let's talk. Can we meet somewhere? Name the time and place. I'll be there…Hello?"

"...Hi, Yamato."

His eyes began to water. He had to turn around so no one could see. His girlfriend spoke in a formal tone. There was no warmth to it. Wait. She made the decision not to be his girlfriend long ago. Of course she wouldn't answer so warmly.

He struggled with his head to think of things to keep her engaged in the conversation. He couldn't let go so soon. "You may have heard in the news, but, um, I've moved back. I'm working for JAXA now."

The Astronaut felt like a boy once more as he felt his voice become smaller. "I miss you, Sora. Please don't do this."

"…I've missed you too."

Yamato felt himself take an uncontrollable deep breath inside. He must have forgotten to breathe. That tone was warm. So she did still somewhat cared for him.

"Um, guess what? Taichi keeps calling me a Gaigin because I learned English better than him. Can you believe that?"

A soft chuckle could be heard from the other line. "Come to think of it you do have somewhat of an accent."

Yamato twitched. Her too? Aw, man. But then a smile grew. It felt so good to hear her laugh – especially good when it wasn't intentioned at him like certain other people…

"How's my accent?" she questioned. The next statement said was spoken not in her natural language, but in English. "Hello."

Yamato's eyes widened in shock. Where had this sudden interest come from? Deciding not to push his luck he simply followed along keeping in mind to keep it easy. "Hello. How are you?"

"I am fine. And you?" she somewhat stumbled on some of the words. Even so, her pronunciation was still clear.

"Good…How's work?" Wow. How fluent was she?

"I am bus…bess…bees," she seem to become frustrated as the right word wouldn't come out. A short aggravated sigh was heard as a new choice of word came. "I am preg –"

The cell phone battery died.