a/n: hiii everyone, to those reading, thank you for waiting! i meant to have this up earlier than now, but XD i had an essay to write. also thank you for all your lovely comments! i got one from a Guest earlier while i was working on my essay and i just. i wish i could reply to you privately! know that your words are appreciated! enjoy. :)


Ch 06 || Eruption

It seemed as though Takeru didn't remember much about the previous night.

Part of Yamato expected this. He'd been so out of it when he'd finally woke up from his night terror that it should have been no surprise. Or… or maybe Takeru did remember it, but he just wasn't saying anything. Maybe he was embarrassed by the episode. That could explain why he was acting as if the events of last night didn't happen at all.

But… but Takeru's eyes had been wide open, and the way he screamed and called for Yamato, violently yanking him from slumber, made it seem like he'd been awake and alert. The primal terror in Takeru's eyes, when Yamato stopped him from running right out the (thankfully locked) door, was so deep. Like a wound that would leave behind a nasty scar when it healed.

And Takeru fell asleep so fast. The haunting sound of his cries kept Yamato awake for the rest of the night. Usually, it was the other way around—the fact that Takeru had woken it up around one in the morning proved it.

Yamato had finally dozed off around seven in the morning but had to get up two hours later to prepare for Koushiro's stupid meeting. He supposed it was beneficial—as Takeru pointed out the night before—but given his sleep cycle had been interrupted, going to a meeting only made him grumpy.

Takeru laughed musically as Yamato poured himself a cup of coffee. "Nii-san. Your hair is sticking up."

"Hush."

How could he laugh like that when he'd been so horrified last night? Yamato tried his best to be nonchalant around Takeru, to act normal, even though things had deviated far past normal and had hit the borders of what he knew was strange.

"Do we have any juice left?" Takeru was still smiling as he spoke, though his eyes were hesitant.

"Yeah, in the fridge."

"Can I have some?"

"You don't have to ask, kiddo. You're welcome to anything."

It was something they were working on. Takeru asked permission for almost anything—to watch tv, to shower. Sometimes he still knocked on their bedroom door before entering. Yamato could understand this, but he wished he knew what to do to make him feel more at home.

"O...ok," Takeru said, his smile widening a bit. "If you're sure."

"I'm sure. One-hundred percent."

He walked to the fridge and opened it, and Yamato busied himself with the menial task of cleaning the coffee maker since he'd been the one to empty it. Still, even though his hands were occupied, his body moved on autopilot while he succumbed to his thoughts.

Takeru kept the conversation going, mostly. He spoke lightly and happily. Yamato chimed in here and there, but he couldn't really remember if his responses were as cheerful as Takeru's. His head refused to wrap around the fact that Takeru could act so carefree.

And Yamato wasn't the only one that couldn't slow back into a normal routine after last night. He definitely noticed the way his father eyed Takeru worriedly the entire time they were in the kitchen. He knew exactly what that kind of look meant: they'd be talking about it later, when Takeru wasn't around.

Yamato hated the idea of gossiping about his little brother. He didn't like talking about him behind his back; it felt like keeping secrets from him. It felt like lying to him, and Yamato was a lot of things, but he wasn't a liar.

Except… this was the kind of thing they couldn't really talk about with Takeru here, especially because he was acting as if everything was normal.

"Do you think I'm lying to you?"

Yamato put the coffee pot in the dish tray to dry as the words fluttered through his brain like an unwanted pest. He'd looked so hurt by the accusation. Like it physically pained him to think that he'd lie to his own brother. It made Yamato feel like a jerk—which, ok, he didn't really care what other people thought of him. Cold? Pssh. An asshole? Who cared. He wasn't put on this Earth to make everyone happy.

Despite the indifferent vibe he so often gave off, however, he did care about his image when it came to a select number of people. Takeru was one of those people.

And Takeru… Takeru thinking him as a jerk was another story. Yamato had a duty to protect his family and friends, and he didn't want the person he was supposed to protect to see him as someone cruel.

It only cemented his decision not to push Takeru into talking about it, because Takeru wouldn't lie to him. This thought led him to another possible conclusion.

He didn't remember.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise. Yamato had read somewhere that it was more likely in adults to remember sleepwalking than in children. It was uncommon to remember night terrors, either, and… and maybe that was all it was. A night terror.

No matter how loud he screamed, or how afraid and desperate he sounded when he called out for Yamato, he… he wasn't in any danger. It was all a dream—a dream powerful enough to coax him out of bed like it was real.

He was brushing his teeth now. Yamato didn't really remember when he decided to do so—just that suddenly he was in front of the sink, spitting and rinsing. Everything was hazy, even after he moved on to his next task to prepare for the day.

Maybe it doesn't mean anything.

It could have been a fluke. Stress, sometimes, could trigger episodes of sleepwalking. It could also lead to sleep deprivation, which was another possible trigger. Even if Takeru was only moving in with him and their father, a move was still stressful. Not to mention… Mirrormon.

He said he was being chased in a forest, Yamato thought, frowning deeply. But… by what?

The outskirts of a forest, after all, was where they had found him. It could have been Takeru's overactive imagination, coupled with other factors, that contributed to the events of last night. He wanted badly to settle on this explanation, but… but as much as he hated thinking about it, he didn't grow up in the same house as Takeru did.

He didn't know for certain if sleepwalking was a normal thing for Takeru. Sure, he'd had episodes as a child—the last one being at age eight or nine—but he only really knew about it if Takeru had been staying with him when it happened.

He did know, however, that Takeru was susceptible to insomnia and nightmares. Even in the digital world, Takeru had had his fair share of them while Yamato was around. He did hear from his mother if the nightmares got bad enough to warrant a conversation about them, and though he didn't know just how often these disturbances occurred, it was easy to tell by looking at him if he hadn't slept well.

But… Yamato hadn't really noticed a difference over the last few months until they found out about Kobe. Takeru hadn't looked especially tired the way he did now.

I should have paid more attention when we were younger. A bitter feeling coiled around his stomach as the thought crossed his mind. I should have been paying more attention in general. Then I wouldn't be playing guessing games.

The bitterness expanded. Snaked up his ribcage, into his lungs and heart. Coiled around his bones and organs and squeezed. Squeezed and squeezed until he felt like his insides would burst into a volcanic mess of bone shards and ruptured organs. His teeth slammed together. Because underneath the self-loathing, he knew he wasn't the only one to blame.

Would she even tell me if he'd been sleepwalking recently? Would she notice? Did Takeru ever do anything to wake her up, like he did to me?

He pulled on a fresh shirt vigorously. Bitter, bitter, bitter. He'd spent so much of his life being bitter toward his parents for their choices, and it led to a strain in their relationship with him. And even now, when he'd gone off on them, he couldn't stop the rage from seeping through.

An image of his mother shaking, desperately suppressing sobs as he walked away from her, crossed his mind and the bitterness quelled. He knew even his father was remorseful, and that told him that they were at least aware of what they'd done.

They were just people. It was something he had to remind himself of a lot—that his parents were only human, and humans made mistakes. They weren't perfect, and he didn't really expect them to be. He did wish, no matter how unfair it was to them, that they would have noticed their mistakes and the consequences following them earlier than a few days ago.

Maybe… maybe things would be better, then. Or at least… Yamato would have some answers. He was old enough to decide where he wanted to stay, and so was Takeru.

What if it's been happening all along and I never knew?

He made a mental note to text his mother about it later.

"—san."

"Hmm?"

He'd just exited their room a few minutes ago. Takeru looked at Yamato, and then their father, and then Yamato again. "I said, if we don't get going soon, we'll be late…" He trailed off, eyes brimmed with concern. "Are you ok?"

They were pretty much set to go. Yamato glanced at his father out of the corner of his eye. His father took a sip of his coffee casually, but it was obvious by the look in his eyes that he'd caught it.

And Takeru had, as well.

"What's wrong?" He shuffled on his feet, expression crumbling slightly. "Are… are you… having second thoughts?"

He sounded so vulnerable, so absolutely crushed, all of a sudden, and Yamato's brain plummeted from the sky back into his skull that instant. Everything swirling in his brain went still, suspended like stars in the sky, and all of his attention went to the devastated boy mere feet away from him.

"About what?"

"About… about me?" He didn't speak any louder than a whisper. "You're… you're both acting like something's wrong. You've been doing it all morning. Did you… change your minds? I can… I can go with Mom if—"

"Takeru. No. We didn't change our minds, and we won't change our minds," Yamato said firmly, finally catching on. "Ok? Everything's fine. I swear."

Lie number one. Everything was not fine.

Yamato inwardly winced. It came out so easily, practically on instinct, just to soothe the heartbreak laced in his brother's eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was be dishonest with Takeru, but he also didn't want Takeru to feel as if he was unwelcome in their home.

"We want you here," he said, if only to fix the lie before it was too late. "Ok? Right, Dad?"

His dad took another sip of his coffee and nodded with a hum. While he'd never been the type of person who was open with his feelings—something Yamato realized he inherited—at least he'd responded somewhat quickly enough to not make Takeru uncertain of his sincerity.

Takeru relaxed visibly, lips twitching in an almost-smile before he hesitated. "O...ok. Then… what is it?"

"I was just getting ready to ask if you two needed a ride," their father said. "So you won't be late."

Yamato looked at the clock, and then at his brother. If they left right now and started walking, they'd make it in time. If they left by car, they'd be early, and Yamato wasn't sure if he wanted to spend any more time inside his head.

"It's up to you, Teek."

"I… I don't mind the walk," Takeru said, finally starting to smile.

His dad's brows quirked upwards. "You sure? It might get pretty hot out soon."

Takeru nodded. "If Nii-san's ok with it, I'd like to walk. Last… last time I rode in the van… I felt a little sick afterward."

"It's whatever you want, kiddo." He paused, suspicious of Takeru's words but choosing, instead, to bring it up another time. "Maybe we can pick something to eat up along the way?"

They still hadn't eaten breakfast. It was nearing ten, and he'd been so absorbed by his thoughts that he hadn't realized the time.

"If you want," Takeru said. "I'm not that hungry, though. At least not yet."

The same was true for Yamato. Lack of sleep made him feel unwell, and the volcano of concern and confusion wasn't really doing him any favors.

"Well… let me know when you do get hungry, ok?" he said with a sigh. "If anything, we'll get something on the way back."

Takeru's smile expanded a fraction. Expanded in a way that was different than the cold, painful bitterness in Yamato's body and mind. Expanded like soft sunbeams, bleeding light and warmth into the world as the sun began its ascent into the sky.

Sunbeams that had the power to put the bitterness at bay.

"Alright," Takeru said finally. "Bye, Dad."

Yamato, too, nodded a brief farewell. "Later."

"Bye, boys," he said. And then: "Oh. Don't forget water."

"I was planning on stopping by the vending machine across the street."

"Ah, I see. Good." Another awkward pause. "Takeru?"

Yamato tensed a little. Takeru looked back curiously at their dad. "Yeah?"

"Yamato and I decided—"

Don't you dare bring it up.

"—that it's time to get you a cellphone. Your brother's not always going to be with you, and… and we'll need a way to contact you." He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "So we know… that you're safe."

The tension in Yamato's muscles eased somewhat, though he was certain, after last night, that he wasn't going to let Takeru out of his sight. Who knew where Takeru would have ended up—or what he would've done to himself—had he been alone?

Takeru's eyes popped wide and his sunny smile became a grin full of excitement. "For real?"

He did remember talking to his father about it a few days ago. When Takeru's head snapped toward him as if for confirmation, Yamato nodded. That smile was infectious.

"Yeah," he said, reaching forward to ruffle Takeru's hair. "And with your d-terminal missing… we kind of need a way to contact you, huh?"

Something shifted in Takeru's expression. His smile faltered and when he blinked, a tiny thread of crimson swirled in his eyes. Yamato blinked, too, and he didn't see anything—Takeru was back to grinning like a child who was just told he could have sweets before supper.

"You're… you're sure it won't be too much?"

"Nah," Yamato said, because even if it was, he'd make it work. "We'll probably get it tomorrow. Or… or tonight, if you want."

"Wow! That's so cool! I can't wait!" Then he turned on his heel, practically shoving his feet into his shoes. "A phone. A phone! A phone, a phone, a phone, a phone~ C'mon, Nii-san! We're gonna be late!"

And then he took off running, fueled with an infinite amount of energy from an unknown source, and he looked so undeniably happy that it kept his thoughts from drifting. Kept the bitterness from erupting. They remained suspended and Yamato was left to chase after Takeru before he lost sight of him.

"So… you get motion sickness, now?"

He'd told himself he wouldn't question it, but Yamato couldn't really help it. Suddenly it felt like Takeru was this mysterious stranger, like he hadn't known him the way he thought he did. He didn't like that feeling.

They were ascending the stairs to Koushiro's apartment. Takeru paused to look at him. "What?"

"You told Dad the van made you sick," Yamato explained.

"Oh." A pause. Takeru scratched his cheek sheepishly. "Yeah, I… I don't know why it happened, but it did. I didn't get sick from car rides before."

A part of Yamato was relieved to hear that. So it wasn't that Yamato just hadn't been paying attention—this was new to both of them.

That could mean his sleepwalking was new, too, right? Or… or maybe it was just a one-time thing?

"Oh," Yamato said. "But it was bad enough to make you choose walking over driving? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I felt better as soon as we were back home," Takeru said quickly. "It didn't seem like a big deal… I'm sorry to make you walk in the heat."

"Nah. I need the exercise."

Takeru chuckled. "You don't think being a Chosen Child is enough?"

"Maybe that's why I need the exercise," Yamato said with a shrug. "You never know when something's gonna chase us down."

"Being chased."

Yamato shivered inwardly. Takeru, however, just rolled his eyes and laughed a bit. "You make a good point. Can you let Koushiro know we're here?"

"Mm."

He fished his phone out to send a text, only to blink when he noticed that he had already received one, about ten minutes ago. He hadn't even heard his phone chime.

"Taichi says people are cranky because they're hungry," Yamato told his brother. "You feeling up to eating now?"

They were nearly at Koushiro's doorstep. Yamato's fingers were still hovering over the keypad while he waited for Takeru's answer, but just as Takeru started to say something, the door swung open.

"Oh, thank god you're here," Mimi said. "We're going to get take-out before the meeting. Wanna tag along?"

"Not really," Yamato droned, right as Takeru chirped, "Sure!"

"Well, that's fine, Yamato," Mimi said. "I'll happily take Takeru with me in your place!"

"Hey, hey, wait," Yamato snapped, reaching for Mimi's wrist before she could grab Takeru's. "It's too hot."

"Nii-san, it's fine," Takeru said. "I like to walk."

"We walked all the way here. Aren't you a little tired?"

"No?" Takeru laughed again. "C'mon, I wanna see where they're going. Please?"

"Please?" Mimi echoed.

"Please?" came another set of voices from in the doorway. Hikari was wedged between Miyako and Daisuke. All three of them were looking at Yamato with pleading eyes.

Taichi squeezed his way through. "Ok, you've got people crowding around you like kittens and Koushiro says you're letting out the cool air."

Yamato sighed and rolled his eyes. "You're not thirsty or anything?"

"Nii-san. I drank like, forty ounces of water. I'll be fine."

He knew if he was too protective of Takeru, it would rob him of his chance at being a normal teen—whatever 'normal' meant, anyway. And even he knew, ever since he was a kid, that sometimes he took it a little too far.

But… but with everything going on, who could blame him? Takeru had gotten separated from them in an enormous, dangerous world; found out his mother was moving to another part of Japan; and then… last night…

"Nii-san, for real, everything's going to be fine," Takeru reassured. "Really."

"Besides," Mimi added, "it's only a few blocks away, so we'd be back in, say, half an hour? It's that place we ordered from a few months ago. You know, the one with the cute red sign?"

Yamato wasn't really paying attention. He looked into his brother's eyes and all he could see was the haunting, incomprehensible expression that painted Takeru's face in the early hours of the morning while the rest of the city slept peacefully.

"You should probably eat…" Yamato said, debating. He'd meant it when he said to his mother that she and Takeru were too skinny.

"And you should, too," Takeru said teasingly.

Yamato sighed. He wasn't going to get out of this one, and none of them knew why he was being hesitant. If he said no, he'd just look like a bad guy.

"Fine," he relented, digging into his pocket for his wallet to pull out some yen. He wasn't exactly certain of the place Mimi was talking about, but he was sure it couldn't be too pricey if they were ordering for twelve. "Here. Though I don't know if you've already ordered..."

Once again, he didn't really pay attention to Mimi's reply. They were gone in a matter of minutes. Most of the younger kids accompanied Mimi, and part of Yamato wished that someone like Sora or even Taichi went with them instead. It wasn't that Mimi was irresponsible, but…

To be held accountable for six other kids… what if Takeru got left out? They'd already lost track of him once…

But then… Mimi was lively and bubbly. Her positive energy was probably exactly what Takeru needed after such a stressful week.

Yamato was scowling as he walked into Koushiro's room. It was pleasantly cool in his apartment, but the only person who could probably put him in a good mood was now gone. And he was back to where he was when the day started—tired, grumpy, and really wanting to wring a certain Izumi Koushiro's neck for scheduling a stupid meeting on a day when he desperately needed to stay home.

The eruption that Takeru's sunny smile had controlled was going to come back, he just knew it.

"Don't you look happy," Taichi said with a smirk, but it was gone in moments. "Actually, dude, now that we're in better lighting… you look like you need a serious nap."

"I'd love a serious nap," Yamato said bitterly. "But someone decided that we should prioritize other things."

"Ah." Koushiro swallowed nervously. "Yeah… about that…"

"Yamato," Sora chided as he trailed off. "We're just going over some things. Koushiro says it shouldn't take too long." And then: "But Taichi's right. You look exhausted."

"Is something wrong with Takeru?" Taichi prompted.

It was like he already knew. Yamato sighed, leaning against the wall and sliding down to the floor. "You could tell, couldn't you?"

"Dude. I know you." Taichi plopped down on Koushiro's bed like it was his own. "You're overprotective, sure, but you don't get this bad unless something's seriously wrong."

"Like you're any better."

"Takes one to know one, yeah?"

Yamato quieted. He was faced with the same dilemma as before—he felt like he was talking behind Takeru's back, and their parents did enough of that when they were kids. But…

"Someone was talking to me."

"Being chased…"

He'd been pretty much asleep when he said that. Somehow, those words carried so much weight, and yet none at all. It could have been a coincidence, or…

Don't go there.

Yamato knew it was dangerous to think about. His thoughts, after all, had got him into a bit of trouble this morning, and this was the one thing he refused to accept or even acknowledge.

"Yamato?" Sora persisted. "You… maybe you should drink some water? You're… well, usually, in this heat, you'd be flushed, but you're a little pale…"

Yamato dared to glance up. All four of them—even Koushiro, who had turned away from his computer to look at him curiously—were awaiting some kind of response, and he knew none of them were stupid. They'd all known each other for the better part of six years.

"I… I think…"

It's not that. It's just a coincidence. It's gotta be.

"Yeah?" Jou said.

Finally, and against his better judgment, Yamato said, "I think I have a clue about Mirrormon."

"What?" Koushiro's eyes blew wide. "Why didn't you say anything before? You could have emailed me—"

"But it's probably nothing," Yamato said, effectively silencing Koushiro with an icy glare.

The bitterness was pulsing through him again. Solidifying into ropes that wrapped around every muscle, every vein, every organ, every bone. It was so cold, and yet so hot. Hot enough to melt through anything. The force was enough to threaten eruption again.

A deep, slow breath. "I didn't really want to bring Takeru into it, so… so I wasn't going to say anything, but I guess they left…"

He wasn't sure if he was relieved or upset because of it. Relieved, because maybe if he voiced these thoughts, they would no longer haunt him; and upset, because he always seemed to assume the worst, and he wanted to save himself from the grief this time.

"Why… do you think Takeru's involved?" Jou asked.

"He looked a little tired, too," Taichi said.

"Yeah," Yamato muttered. "He didn't sleep well."

"Because of the move?"

It was no surprise that a few of them looked at Yamato in confusion. The word about Takeru moving in with him hadn't quite reached all of them—it was Takeru's story more than his, and it felt unfair to tell everyone when Takeru wasn't even here. It was kind of a sore subject, anyway.

Rather than answer Taichi's question, Yamato expelled a heavy breath. And despite the fact that talking about the night's events was not something he wanted to do, he supposed he didn't have a choice now. They were worried, and he couldn't exactly keep it to himself forever.

Not with a monster potentially on the loose.

So everything came out. Slowly at first, like water leaking through the failing crevices of a dam; and then rapidly and forcefully as the dam burst, and all the anxieties and what ifs that had been swirling in his head finally had a place to go.

The way they found Takeru after searching for hours. His somewhat strange behavior. The insomnia. The sleepwalking.

At least it was out of his head. Maybe it'd be enough to save his body from the inevitable damage that came with the looming threat of an eruption.

But then, he wasn't sure if he could handle a flood and volcanic emotions.

"...the last time I was around while he sleepwalked was when he was a kid. I don't even know if it's right to say it's weird when, for all I know, it could be normal."

"I see your dilemma," Koushiro said. "It's hard to make an accurate assessment without all the necessary details."

Somewhere, in the back of Yamato's mind, he knew that Koushiro didn't mean it to come out so flippantly. It was just the way his brain worked. But the exhausted, too-worried part of his mind was all Yamato could focus on, and so he pinned Koushiro with another glare.

"You say that like he's some puzzle." His eyes narrowed. "He's not a damn—"

"But… it is a mystery, isn't it?" Jou said. "Whether or not this is normal behavior for him, I mean."

Boiling. Bubbling. Yamato expelled another slow breath. "Yeah. I should know, because I'm his brother, damn it."

"Yamato, you should be more gentle with yourself," Sora said. "It isn't your fault."

Sweeping. Consuming. Bitter, bitter, bitter. Maybe it wasn't his fault. But the blame fell on somebody and it was easier to place it on himself than the people whom he knew were mostly responsible.

"She's right," Taichi said. "I get it, you're worried about him. I don't blame you at all. But you can't… you can't change anything about how you two grew up."

"You could observe his behavior from here on out, and see if it happens again," Jou suggested passively. "If… if it happens again, well…"

Yamato's fists clenched. The thought of waking up to Takeru's blood-curdling screams again made him incredibly uneasy.

"What… what else happened while he was sleepwalking that led you into thinking his behavior is linked to Mirrormon?" Koushiro prodded.

Right. He hadn't exactly gone into detail. Hadn't wanted to. He'd mentioned Takeru shouting in his sleep, but he hadn't talked about what he'd said upon snapping out of it.

Recalling Takeru's sleepy words as he finally acknowledged Yamato's presence made still. A shiver went down his spine like lava flowing freely and destructively. Sizzling. Melting. His skin burned and burned.

"He… he said something was chasing him, in a forest," he answered, looking down. His fists remained clenched so they wouldn't see him shaking. "That's where we found him the other day, like I said earlier. He could have still been asleep and saying weird things, but… he was calling for me. He kept shouting, 'Gotta find Nii-san!' and he was running through the apartment like he was trying to get away from something. If the door hadn't been locked, he would have made it to the street or something.

"And… and when he finally stopped screaming and fighting me… when he finally realized who I was, he said something was talking to him. He also said before, when we found him, that he hadn't run into anyone in the forest, but I just… I have this feeling."

Everyone around him was silent, hanging on Yamato's words like they couldn't quite decipher them. Yamato didn't blame them. But he… he had to keep going.

"I know my brother. A lot of the nightmares he has… they're like, connected to the digital world. All life-threatening events. He was so only seven when we got dragged there, and… and it really shaped him into who he is now."

Another pause. Yamato rested his chin on his knees and scowled at the floor like it could open up and spit out the answers he so desperately wanted.

"So, I… I just have this feeling," he repeated, coming to a conclusion now. "Like something happened back then, before we found him. But I know he wouldn't lie to me—not intentionally, anyway. But… I can't stop thinking about it."

Yamato's heart was racing in the wake of his confession. He'd never wanted to be wrong about something more than he did now. Being suspicious of his own brother's word made him feel horrible—Takeru, after all, had spent a lot of time by himself, and he knew that he adored the company of others. It was evident in his actions and his body language that he valued the opinions of his friends.

So… so to accuse him of being dishonest… he knew Takeru would take it to heart.

"And… you think the person he was referring to is Mirromon?" Jou said finally. "The one… chasing him?"

"He was the only one wreaking havoc at the time," Yamato said, still not looking at them. "You saw how frightened the other digimon were when he was around, so it's not like they'd get in his way. Who else would it be?"

"That's true," Taichi chimed in. "But wouldn't he say so if he ran into Mirrormon?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out."

"Poor thing," Sora murmured. "I hope… that you both sleep better tonight. It's awful that his sleep has been affected by the digital world for so long. I… I had no idea."

It wasn't something Takeru talked about regularly, and as a result, Yamato didn't bring it up, either—not unless he had to. He'd known about it for a while, and though he couldn't exactly stop the nightmares from occurring, Takeru lived with him now. He could, at the very least, offer Takeru comfort and the reassurance of his safety outside of his dreams.

"...Hikari did mention that he hadn't been sleeping well," Taichi said after a time.

Yamato's head snapped up. "He told her? Did he say anything else?"

It stung a little that Takeru hadn't spoken to him about it; he'd only known about the insomnia because of the tossing and turning at night. Because of the red-webbed eyes and the way he seemed eaten alive by his thoughts.

Funny. The same thing's happening to you.

Taichi started to say something, but before he could answer properly, the doorbell chimed. A buzzing sound echoed through the room. Somebody's phone.

"It's Mimi asking if it's ok to come in," Sora told them.

"They're welcome to," Koushiro said. "It's unlocked."

"Or do they need help carrying stuff in?" Jou asked, starting to stand.

Sora was still texting. Then she locked her phone, and after a few moments, Mimi sang, "We're here~"

"It's a good thing your parents went out, huh?" Taichi said, laughing dryly. "Mimi's loud when she wants to be."

Yamato didn't really pay attention to what Koushiro said in response. His heart was still pounding. His blood had rapidly cooled into molten rock at the thought of Takeru arriving back safely, but the damage had been done. He wasn't sure if he'd be the same.

Takeru, though, was one of the first ones inside, and his free-spirited grin made Yamato immediately think otherwise.

"Hey, kiddo," he greeted, like the conversation with the other kids hadn't happened. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah," Takeru quipped breathlessly. "Though all that water's starting to catch up with me. Can I use your bathroom?"

The question had been directed toward Koushiro, who nodded. "Of course. It's down the hall, on the left."

"Great! Thanks! Oh, here are the chopsticks. Miyako and Daisuke and the others have your food," he called as he disappeared into the hallway.

Taichi chuckled as Jou struggled to catch the chopsticks Takeru had hastily tossed at him. "Uh-oh."

"What do you mean by 'uh-oh'?" came Miyako's voice.

"Taichi-senpaiiiii," Daisuke whined. "You don't trust us with your food?"

"Hikari, I love you, girl, but I think your brother's gonna get a nasty kick to the—"

"Hey, hey, hey," Taichi said, still laughing as they all came crowding in Koushiro's room. "I was talking to Jou—he was going to drop the chopsticks!"

"Uh-huh," Mimi said with a smirk. "Sure you were."

They were all chatting so easily, so naturally. They laughed and giggled and bickered like this wasn't a meeting about the whereabouts of a cruel monster at all, but rather a long-awaited reunion.

And even when Takeru joined them again, smiling and laughing just like the rest of them, Yamato's mind raced. The bubbly, effervescent atmosphere felt wrong. Everything felt horribly, unchangeably wrong.

And Yamato had no idea how to make it right.