a/n: hiiii it's monday again, thank you for all the comments/faves/follows! i've tried sending out PMs to thank people but ffn's PMing system is kind of messed rn so sometimes I don't get the notifications that i have messages, meaning it's probably the same for you guys? anyway, enjoy! :)


Ch 05 || Kaleidoscope

It'd been a week since Takeru started staying at Yamato's apartment.

He knew that, though they had started moving his things over to Yamato's place slowly, his mom wasn't planning on moving until at least the middle of next month. But she was still working—although Yamato had told him she'd requested to stay home, now, over the weekends—and it wasn't like Takeru had a lot of things.

He'd never been the type of kid to ask for much. His bedroom consisted of his desk, a desk chair, his lamp, a small bookshelf, and his bed. He owned several books and notebooks, and he had enough clothes, though some of them were outdated. Moving, honestly, wouldn't take that long.

He'd already packed up the small things and most of his clothes. All that was left was the furniture. He wasn't sure what to do about his bed—throughout his stay, he'd just been sharing a bed with Yamato, and his brother's bedroom wasn't big enough for two western-style beds.

"Are… are you sure I can bring the desk?" he'd asked when they approached his mother's apartment. He looked down at his shoes, hesitating to unlock the door. "I… I don't want to take up too much space. It's your room."

"Takeru."

Takeru remained facing the door.

"It's your room, too, now," Yamato continued when he didn't speak. "Besides, I don't have a desk. I usually do my homework on the table."

"I could do that, too," Takeru said.

"I'm just saying," Yamato said, with a tiny smirk, "that there's room. Don't worry about taking up too much space, 'k? There's plenty of space for you."

He wasn't so sure about that. He wasn't complaining about the size of their apartment—but it was only meant to house two people, not three. Their father had already mentioned finding a bigger place, but Takeru hated to make them move on his account. They'd lived in this apartment for as long as Takeru could remember.

"Hey," Yamato started. "Takeru. I mean it."

Takeru was still hesitant, but he turned to his brother with a smile. "Thanks, Nii-san."

They went in for more than just his desk and its companioning chair, but in the end, that was all they took with them. Takeru wasn't sure about what he wanted to do with the rest of his things. He supposed he had a little time to decide.

By the time they reached Yamato's—and his, too, now—apartment, Yamato declared it time to start cooking supper. Takeru kept him company all the while, his mouth practically watering as the aroma of Yamato's cooking soon overtook the flat.

This was something he'd never get used to. Home-cooked meals almost every day. He knew that his brother enjoyed cooking, and almost every time he was over, Yamato wouldn't send him home without being fed. But… but every day?

"I'm being spoiled."

Yamato laughed as he used his chopsticks to stir the veggies in the medium-sized saucepan on the stove. "Yeah? How so?"

"It's kind of funny, actually," Takeru went on, almost wistfully. "I… I know that the others… Daisuke, Ken, Hikari… I know they eat meals like this a lot. But… but still, it's… weird to know that people can live like this, you know?"

Yamato was quiet, turning to face the stove as the vegetables sizzled and hissed in the saucepan. Takeru blinked in confusion at his abrupt silence, but just as he went to question him about it, Yamato said, "I don't know if Yagami-san's cooking counts as healthy."

Takeru frowned. "Nii-san! That's not nice!"

"I kid, I kid," Yamato relented, shaking his head. "Though, have you tried her cooking? Taichi complains to me about it at least once a week."

"Hikari said she's getting better."

"Hikari's more polite than her brother."

"Still," Takeru persisted, though not without a good-natured eye roll, "I… I think it's really cool. That you like to cook. I… I wish I could learn how to do that."

"I can teach you."

Takeru's eyes widened. "For real?"

"Yeah," Yamato said. "These have to cook for a few more minutes, so you've got time to observe. Just as long as you promise not to get too close to the stove."

"Nii-san. I'm not five."

"Says who?"

"Says—says me! You were there when I was born, weren't you?"

"I know. I'm teasing, Teek. But seriously, I don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't get hurt," Takeru promised. "Don't give me that look! I won't!"

"Hey, you can't blame me for being worried," Yamato said. "It was just last week that we couldn't find you anywhere. You really scared me back then. You know how dangerous the digital world can be."

For some reason, that left Takeru speechless. He couldn't quite decipher what it was about Yamato's response that stole his voice, but whatever it was, it sent an icy chill down the length of his spine, cold enough to give him goosebumps.

Last… last week…

Oh. Oh, right. They'd been protecting the digital world from Mirrormon's sadistic, destructive wrath. And then Pegasusmon was depositing him into the forest, but it didn't feel as though he'd been there long. One moment his partner was promising to return as quickly as he could, and the next, he was stumbling out of the trees and into his brother's arms.

As he recalled the incident, his eyes started to burn. It wasn't a familiar sensation—they burned and itched like he was having a reaction to something in the air, but Takeru didn't have any allergies that he knew of. The more he blinked, the stronger the sensation became.

Maybe… maybe I have something in my eyes or something, he thought, one hand coming up to rub them. Hopefully, that would soothe—

"—keru?"

"Huh?"

Takeru's head snapped up, meeting Yamato's fretful gaze in seconds. His brother was frowning at him, brows furrowed.

The strange, uncomfortable sensation in his eyes dissolved like sugar in water, as quickly as it had come. Like he'd imagined the whole thing.

Weird.

"You ok?" Yamato asked slowly. "I said your name a few times. You've just been staring in the same direction for a few minutes…"

Takeru blinked. Had it been that long, or was his brother exaggerating? Surely a few minutes couldn't pass that quickly. It felt like… like thirty seconds, tops.

"What?" he said. "You're joking. It hasn't been that long."

"Uh, yeah," Yamato replied, still speaking rather slowly, "it has. Look, the broccoli and carrots are done now."

Takeru blinked again. "Dang. Sorry, I guess I spaced out."

"...yeah," Yamato repeated, still frowning. "You good?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Takeru chirped, but his cheery tone soon evaporated as he stared down at the counter, recalling his brother's words. "I'm sorry I worried you. Do… do you think that any of the digimon have found my d-terminal?"

"Can't say," Yamato said. "Koushiro hasn't told me anything, and he's the one who's taken it upon himself to be in charge of communicating with our partners."

That was true. Once they'd returned to Earth, Koushiro had declared he'd keep an eye on things via his computer and update them accordingly. Many of them—Ken, Taichi, and Sora, to name a few—had objected, but Koushiro could be just as stubborn as Taichi when he wanted to be.

"We can always ask him tomorrow," Yamato said with a sigh. "He wants to schedule meetings frequently until this whole thing with Mirrormon clears up."

"You sound so grumpy about it," Takeru said with a chuckle.

"Well, if he had some news on Mirrormon, he'd probably have told us about it immediately," Yamato said irritably. "No need to give us weekly progress reports if there's nothing to report."

"Maybe there is something to report," Takeru said.

Yamato turned to him. "Like what?"

He gave Takeru a searching look, like he was suspicious of him or something. Like he was looking for something, and if Takeru knew what he was looking for, then it wouldn't have hurt him as badly as it did.

"I don't know," Takeru murmured, looking at his hands. "I was just… being hypothetical. Maybe it's not so important that it becomes urgent, but he thinks we should probably still know. It'd probably be easier to tell us all in one place, in person, then just in a message that he's not sure we'll all actually receive." He paused. Yamato was still giving him that strange, searching look. "...do you think I'm lying to you?"

"No, Teek, I don't think you're lying," Yamato said immediately. "I just… are you sure you're ok?"

"I promise I'm ok. And I promise I wouldn't lie to you, Nii-san."

Yamato's uneasy expression finally melted. He sighed again, leaning over the counter to pat him on the head. "I know, kiddo. I just worry about you. I know this summer didn't exactly start off on a good note."

He could have been referring to a lot of things. The issue in the digital world, the way Takeru was avoiding their mom, or their new living situation. Takeru didn't particularly want to confront any of that—at least, not at the moment.

Maybe… maybe after he had some time to fully process it. Then they'd tackle it.

"We'll manage," Takeru decided to say, with an optimistic smile. "Is Dad joining us for supper?"

"He should be here in about a half-hour," Yamato answered, turning to face the clock. "When he dropped us off with the desk, I told him if he's late, he owes us take-out."

"You can't do that," Takeru said, eyes widening. "He's Dad!"

"I sure can," Yamato said, with a sassy smirk. "I made him supper. He has to be here to eat it, right?"

Takeru laughed again. "I guess that's true. It'll be nice to eat together, won't it?"

Yamato's smirk suddenly became much fonder. Softer. Even his eyes were smiling as he looked at Takeru. "Yeah, I bet."

"I'll set the table, then," Takeru said. "And no, you can't help. You cooked. Let me do something."

"That means Dad's on dish duty." He held up a hand when Takeru went to speak. "Nope. The place is already cleaner than it's been in a while, but you can't do all the housework. His turn."

"Fine, fine," Takeru relented. "I like to clean, though."

Yamato chuckled. "I'd joke that you must have been dropped on your head as a kid to make you like cleaning, but that would never happen on my watch."

He was teasing, Takeru knew, but there was something woven in his words—something warm and affectionate—that dispelled any lingering chills from before. "Thanks, Nii-san."

"Hmm? For what?"

"For… always looking out for me."

"That's my job, kiddo."

"You're a rockstar."

"On the side," Yamato corrected.

"And being an older brother's your full-time gig?"

"That's right."

Takeru laughed. The warmth could only spread.

Maybe… maybe Takeru could get used to this.


It was around ten-thirty that Yamato told Takeru he had to put his book away and get ready for bed. Takeru rolled his eyes, but obeyed nonetheless. His mother usually arrived home after dark, and while she told him it wasn't good on his body to stay up late, she couldn't exactly tell him not to abandon sleep for night-time activities when she did something similar.

The thought made Takeru slow in his trek to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Right. His mom.

Now that the day was over and he was preparing to go to sleep, ignoring his mother suddenly felt like a very cruel thing to do. Sure, he was upset with her, but… but she was still his mother, right? She didn't deserve to be on the other side of his anger.

Takeru stopped walking, now in front of the bathroom door.

Except… except it wasn't anger, not really. He was hurt by her actions and for once in his life, he could allow himself to feel his emotions genuinely, instead of pushing them aside to make her happy.

It's fine. Yeah, it's fine. With a mental shake of his head, Takeru went into the bathroom and began his routine. It'll be fine.

Maybe that didn't make it right, though. She was leaving in weeks, and after she moved, he wasn't sure when he'd see her next. Would she be able to afford to visit him? Would they be able to afford to visit her? He wasn't certain.

Takeru blocked out the thought. Brushed his teeth. Washed his face. Changed into sleepwear. It was time for bed. If he kept going, these thoughts would keep him up for hours.

"Ready?" Yamato paused. "Hey. What's wrong?"

"I'm just tired," Takeru said, crawling into the other side of Yamato's bed. "Bathroom's open."

"Alright," Yamato said, but lingered by the door for a while.

Takeru took his time getting comfortable under the blanket, and by the time he finally was, Yamato was headed off presumably to prepare for bed as well. Ten minutes later, and the light was off.

And Takeru was left alone with his thoughts. Thoughts of the digital world. Thoughts of his family. Thoughts of his mother, and his jumbled mess of conflicting feelings toward her. Thoughts which, just as he'd predicted, stole his sleep and frustrated him.

"...Nii-san?"

He wasn't sure how long the two had been laying there. Takeru was fairly certain Yamato only decided he'd go to bed at the same time as him just to make sure Takeru went to bed on time. He wasn't a morning person, that was for sure, so Takeru assumed he stayed up relatively late, especially when they had the rest of summer ahead of them.

"...Nii-san?" he repeated. "Are you still awake?"

It didn't feel like that long. Maybe thirty minutes. Could… could Yamato really fall asleep that fast? Was he that tired? Takeru frowned in the darkness of their bedroom. He should probably—

"Nn… yeah? Whazzit?"

"Sorry I woke you," he blurted in a whisper. "I… I thought you'd be awake still."

Shuffling. Yamato rolled over, revealing the digital alarm clock that sat on his nightstand. Blue numbers blinked 1:03a.m.

"Ever'thin' ok?" Yamato's voice was groggy. "...have… a nightmare…?"

"No, I…" Takeru swallowed. Had two hours gone by already? "...never mind."

"You can tell me." More rustling. "I'm listenin'."

"You're half asleep."

"...still listenin'."

Takeru was still reluctant, hoping if he was quiet long enough his brother would just go back to sleep. But his eyes had adjusted relatively well to the darkness, and when he finally looked at Yamato, he realized his eyes were open.

"...you don't think I'm being selfish, do you?"

"...'bout what?"

"Do you think I'm being mean to Mom?"

"No, Keru," Yamato answered. "Don't think so."

"But she's going to leave soon," Takeru went on. "And I'm just… I've been ignoring her. What if that's making her sad? I don't want her to be sad. Or… or lonely."

Slowly, sluggishly, Yamato extended an arm to wrap around Takeru's shoulders. "You're resp'nsible for your own h'ppiness. She's 'sponsible for hers."

"But—"

"Would you… be happy if you went with her?"

He already knew the answer to that. Maybe, in his half-awake state, Yamato didn't realize that he knew the answer to that. Or maybe he was asking Takeru just to help him stay firm in his decision not to leave Odaiba.

"...no," Takeru whispered, eyes fogging up with tears.

"It'll be ok," Yamato assured groggily. "Don't… don't worry. Let's just… get some sleep, 'k, bud?"

"Alright," Takeru murmured, half because he needed to give himself time to soak up his brother's words, and half because he didn't think it was fair to steal Yamato's rest just because he couldn't drift off.

Try to think of something else, he instructed himself. Think of… your novel. Think of what you'll do tomorrow…

Tomorrow… we'll talk about Mirrormon…

The name sent an ominous, unwanted feeling through his body. Something strangely sinister and peaceful at the same time. Except… why would he feel at peace, at the thought of Mirrormon's name? That wasn't right. Mirrormon was horrifying and dangerous and insane. Nothing about him was peaceful.

Perhaps it was some kind of sign, his brain fought to rationalize. Maybe the peaceful feeling foretold something. Maybe Mirrormon truly was gone, and he felt at ease because he didn't have to worry about Mirrormon anymore.

But that didn't seem right. If Mirrormon was gone, wouldn't they have witnessed it? Any of them?

It didn't make any sense, and so the sinister feeling returned. It waged a war on the peaceful side, fighting a battle inside the confines of his skull. Back and forth, back and forth. He couldn't determine a victor, and that scared him deeply.

Takeru rolled over vigilantly, careful not to disturb Yamato. His arm had now relaxed on his shoulder, breath steady and slow. He was asleep now.

I wish I could fall asleep that fast, Takeru thought.

It was strange. Takeru was used to frequent episodes of insomnia, but it hadn't been bad at all while he'd been staying with Yamato.

It embarrassed him a little to think that he needed someone with him to sleep well, but… it wasn't like anyone knew, right? It was something Takeru could keep to himself—a secret known by him alone—and if Yamato did know about it, then… then he hadn't said anything. At least, not to Takeru.

He dwelled on this piece of information for a while. Toyed with it like a baby toying with the hem of his blanket. Anything to keep his mind of the other things—things that he now refused to acknowledge, lest he end up on that sleepless, anxiety-ridden path from before.

Takeru listened to his breathing. Closed his eyes, praying for sleep to come. If… if he just focused on something calming, like the patterns of his breath, he'd eventually succumb to sleep, right?

He tried to imagine the tension in his body melting away. Tried to imagine his breath as a warm breeze that flowed through him, dispelling any negative energy. Any lingering tension. His body sank into the mattress.

Sinking.

Sinking.

Something feels weird.

The thought crossed his mind so suddenly and so randomly that he could have laughed. But random as it might be, the thought wasn't wrong.

Even with his eyes closed, Takeru could sense something in the air shifting. Something, perhaps, like the thread that separated wakefulness from slumblr.

That must be it. I'm falling asleep.

Takeru breathed, and breathed, and breathed. The shift grew more noticeable, and more, and more, until it wasn't a shift at all.

It was a tremorous earthquake. The room around him snapped out of its stable alignment—bed on floor, nightstand on floor, four walls housing him and his brother, a door separating them from the hallway—so abruptly that it was jarring, and Takeru's eyes shot open.

Pegasusmon. He was on Pegasusmon, going down, down, down. His skin was crawling, body shaking, wind howling in his ears.

No. No, no, no. This isn't fair. I don't want to go through this again.

His plea went unheard. Pegasusmon continued in his descent like he didn't have the capability of stopping it. Like he was a simple stone dropped from an impossibly high place with no choice but to give in to the inescapable, irresistible call of gravity.

Takeru pressed himself against Pegasusmon's body and held on as tightly as he could. His eyes snapped shut but the world tilted and swirled like a kaleidoscope.

Back on the bed. Takeru's eyes remained closed but he was dizzy still. He wanted to bolt upward, to wake his brother no matter how childish it seemed. No matter how young it made him feel.

"We don't have time to argue, Takeru. Please. Hide until I come to get you."

The familiar voice coaxed Takeru to open his eyes again, and he felt so undoubtedly, inexplicably awake, but when he gazed around the room, body trapped in a state of paralysis, his eyes caught a glimpse of something shimmering in the corner of Yamato's bedroom.

Misty, unearthly clouds. Takeru chewed the inside of his cheek, wondering if his teeth sank in hard enough, the pain would pull him out of this disorienting dream, but to no avail. He couldn't even taste any blood, and he wasn't sure if that confirmed this as a dream.

Just breathe. Stay calm. It's fine. You'll wake up, and everything will be fine.

Spinning. Swirling. The bed felt like it was going to tip, and his body would, inevitably, tip with it. Takeru bit the inside of his cheek harder. Harder. His breath quickened.

Grass crunching. Leaves whispering. His heart roared in his ears alongside the song of the trees, and Takeru was upright, legs propelling him forward like a missile locked on a target. He couldn't stop.

The trees danced and sang and cackled and howled. It seemed as though their branches had become limbs, moving swiftly and fluidly. Not an ounce of sunlight shone through their leaves. He was cloaked in darkness.

Darkness and threads of deep, bloody red.

Gotta find Nii-san. Gotta find Hikari. Gotta find my friends.

Swirling. Swirling.

Gotta find Nii-san.

The bloody threads started to move like strings under the hands of a puppeteer. They chased after him, and the trees crooned, and their branches moved like they were the puppeteer.

Gotta find Nii-san.

Cloudy mist. Glowing symbols and swirling eyes. Hypnotic. All-consuming.

Gotta find Nii-san.

The threads slithered around him. Wrapped around his legs, his wrists, his torso. Pulled him into the pool of bloody, swirling red.

I have to find Nii-san!

Takeru squirmed and fought. The threads made their way up, up, up. His chest. His collarbone. His shoulders—

"Takeru. Takeru, I'm right here. Do you see me? You've already found me, Takeru. You don't need to search anymore. I'm right here. I'm right here."

Takeru blinked, and he blinked again. Fingers squeezed his shoulders, and the red tint in his vision faded like blood being washed away. Not even a faint stain lingered.

Takeru was… was he standing? Why was he standing?

"...Nii-san?"

No forest. No singing trees. No bloody threads. The world was blissfully, wonderfully still.

Takeru's knees buckled beneath him. Part of him wondered why he wasn't nauseous. Wondered if he was still dreaming.

"Oh, thank god," Yamato's voice breathed out, drenched with hysteria. He sank downward along with Takeru.

Takeru realized, almost as an afterthought, that Yamato was trembling. Or… or was it Takeru who was shaking?

A light was on. They weren't alone. Takeru blinked, disoriented and confused. His head felt like it had been wrapped up in a cloud.

"I'm here," Yamato said, moving to cup Takeru's cheeks, but his hands hovered just above his skin, like Takeru was a frail thing he was afraid of dropping. "...Takeru? Do you see me?"

"Nii-san," Takeru whispered, with a slow nod. "What… what are we doing in the front room?"

Confusion wove together with fear as he looked at Takeru. "You don't… remember?"

"Why do you look scared?"

Another pause. Takeru looked around dazedly, and he saw the fuzzy outline of a figure that must have been their father, but Takeru's gaze was promptly back to Yamato as he spoke again.

"Takeru." This time his hands made contact with Takeru's skin. "Are… are you awake? What do you remember?"

"I was… in a forest," he recalled. "Someone was… talking to me…"

Yamato's lips moved. No audio reached Takeru's ears until after they stopped. "...yeah?"

"Mm-hm. Being chased."

"...by who?"

Drowsiness hit him slowly, and yet all at once. Takeru inhaled and then exhaled. He swore he only blinked once, but suddenly they were in the doorway of Yamato's room, and he had no memory of his legs bringing him to that location. He wasn't aware of how much time had passed before he realized someone was carrying him.

He heard someone's voice, but it wasn't Yamato's. His father's.

"...yeah, I think so, too." A pause. "Takeru?"

"Mm?"

"Let's get you… back to bed, ok?"

He should have been scared to go back to bed. He should have been scared in general. Some instinctive part of him told him so, and he felt compelled to listen to it. Before he could find its source to follow it and figure out why, though, the drowsiness swamped him. Washed away any fight he had left.

He didn't remember ever reaching the bed. He was asleep before then.