Author's note: This is officially the farthest I've gotten in a fanfic like, ever. But anyways... I feel I should warn you all who have gotten so happy and excited to see like, four updates or something during August, that won't happen during the school year. While granted, my muse for this story is like those fires rampaging through Southern Cali while we speak (not that fire is funny), school also started September third, and I've been busy since.
Koushiro was always the last to be told anything after the first couple of episodes in the series. And in the English dub, he got pretty ticked by it (in the Japanese I believe he was just annoyed that they didn't consider the fact that they might have gotten caught, or in even more trouble had someone come by and shut off the computer they used as the gateway). So in my little organization spree, I made sure that Koushiro wasn't left in the dust. I've talked enough (as always), so now it's Koushiro's turn. Our logical little computer whiz. -affectionate nuzzling...whether he likes it or not-. I didn't do him justice, but hopefully I didn't butcher him too badly.
Oi, nicknames: Izzy (Izumi, think guys. It really does make sense) from the English dub, Kou from a role play I was on. Because it's kinda catchy, and easier to type. Don't judge me! Haha.
He felt like an errand boy.
I mean, he wasn't complaining. The alternative was sitting home drumming his fingers on his keyboard, totally not absorbed in his latest project as he should be because he would be too busy letting his imagination get away with him. Or well, he'd be Googling the likelihood of survival, and statistics, and that wasn't exactly helpful, and no one wanted to hear about statistics and chances and figures and numbers when they were talking about a friend. So yeah, those were like, anti-helpful. Was that a word? If he was at his computer, he could look it up, but no. He was in a drive- thru.
Seriously, a drive-thru; one that served disgusting, greasy, unhealthy food by the bag and he didn't get much of a say in the matter because he was only one person with one job, and while he didn't sneeze at his paycheck, it was still kind of hard to buy healthy, substantial meals for five people, six if Jyou joined them. Although the chances of that were kind of slim while he was on the clock, Koushiro bought him something anyway. More money down the drain. He loved his friends, really, but he needed the money. They better reimburse him a little... well, except Taichi. He'd make an exception for Taichi, this time. He was sure the gesture wouldn't go unnoticed. He always gave Taichi a hard time about being responsible, etc, etc.
He heard this was comfort food. Comfort? The only comfort it gave was the satisfaction that you were guaranteed to live a shorter, less healthy life... and that was only if you were a suicidal masochist, which he hoped none of his friends were. I mean, that would just make a not so great day even worse. First one of his laptops that he'd finally got working crashed, and then he spilled hot tea on his khakis, and then the rain storm hit... and then the phone call... Seriously, he shouldn't have let his mother get to him when he first woke up. Should've been all "screw it, I wanna sleep" and gone back to bed. But that wasn't what Koushiro did. Koushiro had a schedule, and a time line.
Nooo, he wasn't complaining at all. ...Okay, maybe just a little. Lying was a really ugly trait. So was sarcasm. Unfortunately, when you hung out with Taichi on a semi-regular basis, and then dealt with Daisuke who was like, a rude, obnoxious version of Taichi, and then his and Takeru's bickering, and Taichi and Yamato's bickering when they were younger, you kind of developed a sort of sick sense of humor to handle the stress and insanity. Both words, by the way, totally and completely summed up the situation they were in. It just, it didn't make sense.
And he had a feeling his dad was right, he probably shouldn't be driving. He was snappy, and upset, and emotional, and every driving instructor on the face of the planet would tell him to turn around and go home. But he had to deliver this disgusting grease fest. Why they couldn't just eat in the cafeteria, he had no idea, but he guessed maybe it was a good thing. Drag Taichi (or the others, at least) out of the hospital for a while. There was a parking garage, Takeru had told him when he asked where Yamato had parked in a quick text before leaving the house. A picnic on the concrete by the cars... yeah, that sounded like a blast. See? Snappy. He really shouldn't be out driving in the rain. At least he was already heading towards the hospital...
Really, really bad joke. Ignore that.
Not gonna lie, the smell of the food was kind of beginning to nauseate him by the time he pulled off the free way. He couldn't even open the windows because of the rain. It didn't seem to be showing any signs of lightening up, and he was getting nervous. He didn't drive a lot. The only reason he was now, was because he really didn't want to walk to get food, then to the train, where the food would probably spill and... You get the picture. So that was why he was in the car, the oh-so rare occasion that he wasn't all that happy about. Tokyo was the kind of city where you really didn't need a car a lot. Traffic was horrible, and it was almost always easier to just take the train. Certainly had better luck than the bus. And then there was walking. But again, they weren't such great alternative methods of traffic at the moment. Not the way to make a fairly inexperienced driver happy, especially when he only really spent time behind the wheel to get his license in the first place.
But to back track, in all seriousness he could probably bring the food inside. That was probably preferred; he doubted Taichi or even Takeru wanted to leave Hikari's side, just in case. He had a feeling it was wishful thinking that she'd wake up that night, but he decided to keep that to himself. Taichi wouldn't thank him for his pessimism, but her body needed to heal. He didn't know the extent of the damage, but if it knocked her out, it wasn't just a little scratch. Besides, maybe it was better for Taichi to get his feet back underneath him before Hikari woke up. That is, if Taichi took advantage of the time till then. Knowing him, the idea hadn't even dawned on him. Koushiro sighed as he pulled into a parking spot, grateful to find one out of the rain. That would be so like Taichi. He could be really responsible... unless Hikari was involved. Then he got a tad bit irrational. Alright. More than just a tad. He got morosely irrational. As in, even Sora couldn't smack him out of it. Yamato should try... but Koushiro was actually kind of glad the fighting between them had more or less ended, thank you very much.
That's when he realized it was physically impossible for one person to carry all the sodas and bags of greasy, calorie loaded food (He really wished that healthy food was cheaper. Has he said that already?) inside. At least, Koushiro couldn't. With a sigh to himself, he reached for his phone on the dashboard and punched in a quick message. Within moments of him hitting 'send', his phone buzzed in his hand and a message popped onto the screen. Yamato's reply read: be out in a minute. Good. Koushiro wanted a moment to ask some questions without stressing Taichi out. They were innocent questions, just about Hikari's condition. Takeru hadn't told him a lot; Koushiro had a feeling that the younger boy hadn't been alone when the phone call was made. Not that it was a big deal, but if it was Taichi, Takeru wasn't likely to say anything if it would upset Taichi further. It was understandable. Annoying, maybe, but understandable. Koushiro would probably do the same.
A knock on the window made Koushiro jump, and he looked to the window to see Yamato staring at him with his eyebrows raised, a smirk tugging at his lips. Oh, geez. Had he gotten that absorbed in his thoughts? Quite possibly. Ignoring his embarrassment at actually jumping like Jyou way back when the Digital world was new (to them, anyway), he climbed out of the car. Yamato side stepped to allow room; someone had parked way too close to Koushiro while he wasn't paying attention, and he muttered something about hating cars that made Yamato chuckle a dry, rather humorless chuckle. Yamato liked driving his baby... when they weren't in the heart of Tokyo, anyway. You'd have to be insane to enjoy that experience.
"Nervous there, Koushiro?" Koushiro didn't answer, but instead began handing bags of food to the blond. Yamato didn't seem offended; they had a strange friendship of sometimes getting along, and sometimes irking each other. And while sometimes a little squabble was fun and effective enough in releasing those pent up feelings without feelings getting hurt or things being taken too personally, there were more important questions, in Koushiro's opinion. Maybe Yamato thought so too; maybe he just didn't want to answer them. Koushiro could understand that, but he wanted answers anyway.
"How's Hikari-chan? I wasn't told very much," he said in what he hoped was a casual, conversational tone. He didn't think he succeeded at that though; his voice sounded strained to his ears. Yamato's lips were pursed into a tight, white line. It was like they had all forgotten that there were ordinary dangers. You didn't only get hurt by some evil Digimon. There were things that could hurt them here too, innocent things that nobody could control. It was a difficult lesson to swallow.
"Jyou thinks she'll be alright, once she wakes up. Then we'll have something else to worry about." The second part had been said in a mumble, as though Yamato hadn't meant for Koushiro to hear. But hear he did, and he didn't much see the point in pretending he hadn't. He agreed entirely. Hikari wouldn't be okay to hear about her parents, but what was worse was that he knew she'd pretend she was. Yamato was thinking the same thing, he was sure. It was like the Dark Ocean all over again, except this shadow was in the back of her mind where none of them could fetch her out if she didn't want to be.
"Takeru must be taking it hard." It was a subtle probe, one that Koushiro supposed he wouldn't have blamed Yamato for ignoring. But he didn't; his brows grew close together and he looked bothered.
"He hasn't said much. But you're probably right," he agreed with a heavy sigh.
"And Taichi?"
The last of the food distributed between both of them, Koushiro carefully shut the car door with his hip. When he looked up, Yamato's face was unreadable as he tried to think of an answer, any answer that would neither betray Taichi nor be a lie. That was all Koushiro needed to know.
"Let's see if the smell of grease and carbs can pull him back," Yamato suggested, question half-answered. But it was good enough; Koushiro remembered when Hikari fell sick in the Digital world. He didn't have to try very hard to imagine how Taichi was faring right now. They were lucky he wasn't catatonic... although he thought he spoke too soon when they filed into the hospital room. Taichi was sitting beside the bed, not quite looking at Hikari. Koushiro didn't think he really saw the room at all. Takeru was looking anxious and uncomfortable, eyes flickering between Hikari's unconscious face and Taichi's. Sora was sitting at the foot of the bed, looking restless and upset. Food, it seemed, was just in time.
"Kou's delivery service, right on time," Yamato announced, as though he had read Koushiro's thoughts. He didn't sound as cheerful as the words might suggest, though. But that was Yamato; and no one seemed to think anything of it. Nor of the wide berth he gave Sora as he joined Takeru on the other side of the bed. Koushiro noticed though, and judging by the deepening frown on Sora's face, so had she.
"Burgers, fries, and every other unhealthy morsel that I could afford," Koushiro said, unloading his share of the food – or the drinks, rather – on a small bedside table. Yamato threw Takeru a burger, which he caught with a blink. Koushiro gave one to Sora, along with one of the sodas. She smiled her thanks, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She was worried.
But so were they all.
"Tai, eat something before I make them stuff a tube down your throat," Yamato ordered gruffly, throwing a burger his best friend's way. Taichi didn't actually catch it; it bounced off him and landed on the bed by Hikari's hand before he realized it. Taichi picked it up slowly, a frown creeping onto his face. He really was out of it. But he was opening the burger's wrappings, and taking slow bites, so Yamato didn't say anything else. Koushiro envied that power, the ability to get Taichi to do something when Hikari was hurt without snapping off.
Koushiro opened his mouth to say something else – ask another question, really –, but he lost his nerve. He had lots of relatively pointless questions: what had Jyou said was Hikari's condition? Where was he? Were the others coming? Did Taichi want him to leave? But no one told him to stay or go, so after a long moment of standing, he dragged a chair over from beside the empty bed on the other side of the room and sat down, a little bit apart from everyone else.
The girlfriend, the best friend, her best friend.
He wasn't sure where he fit in, but he wanted to help. And not just as the fast food guy. He just... didn't know how. He was much more help in the Digital world, he thought with a heavy sigh that went ignored in a room already thick with anxiety, worry, and general misery-by-association. He was useless here, and he hated it. Absolutely, without a doubt, hated it. But maybe, if he stuck around for a while, a use for him would make itself clear. He hoped so, anyway, and he added that to the growing list of other things he hoped for.