Disclaimer: I is the no own Digimon. Not sure if I want to though, seems like a lot of responsibility. Then again...it's a lucrative franchise, hm...

A/N: YES! FINALLY AN UPDATE! You are probably sick of waiting, and I'm sick of re-writing this chapter over and over again. I literally rewrote this chapter 6 times and have 4 versions of the resolution in this chapter. I can't express how happy I am to be done with it. Although it was a long and arduous labour, I'm very proud of this baby. Hope you guys enjoy it too!

While rain was pouring down on Odaiba bay, a drenched Natsuhi was staring down a doorbell. 'It's just a doorbell.' She berated herself. Taking a deep breath, Natsuhi braced herself for the confrontation that was to come and pressed down on the button with more force than was necessary.

The result was anticlimactic. There was a pause, the sound of chair screeching, some shuffling and the metal door opened to reveal a harsh but dashing looking middle-aged man. There was moment of confusion between the two unacquainted individuals stared at each other.

Remembering her manners, Natsuhi recollected herself and bowed formally, "Hajimemashite, I'm Aoi Natsuhi."

"Ah yes, Aoi-san," recognition dawned on Ishida Hiroaki's face. "Please come in." Yamato's father moved aside to let the girl in. Nodding stiffly, Natsuhi pardoned herself and proceeded inside the apartment.

This wasn't quite how she pictured her first visit to the Ishida household to be. Glancing around, she recognized bits and pieces of the house that Yamato had sent her in his daily spamming of photos. Hiroaki gestured at the dining table and proceeded to pull out a seat for himself. Natsuhi followed suit, inwardly marvelling at the unkempt mess that was the open kitchen. The kitchen that was always immaculate in the photos because of Yamato's obsessive cleaning.

Hiroaki left Natsuhi to her thoughts as he assessed the girl before him. Sure, her name came up plenty, almost as often as Sora's did. But right off the bat, Hiroaki knew that Natsuhi was nothing like Sora. Though Yamato mentioned the girl before him a lot in passing, usually animatedly and fondly, there was nothing 'fond' about this girl. Despite her best efforts to be polite, there was something unapproachable and steely about her. He was sure her cold demeanour had put off many people, but her aloofness was comforting to Hiroaki. Because it was familiar. The girl before him reminded him a lot of himself, of his son, reserved, 'guarded', his mind added.

But the question remained, could she do what everyone else, himself, Taichi, Sora and even Takeru, could not, and get through to his son?

To say that emotions weren't his forte isn't a false assessment, but it also wasn't completely accurate. Hiroaki is terrible at dealing with emotions, unlike his ex-wife and youngest son, but he was very good at reading them. He knew that by now, the girl before him had already realized his assessing gaze and was uncomfortable about it. To her credit, she had yet to say anything. 'Exactly what you would do,' his mind pointed out. Deciding that the girl had passed his initial assessment, Yamato's dad cracked open the beer can that was on the table and finally broke the silence.

"Would you like one?"

His question had an unexpected effect. Natsuhi twitched at the offer, or rather she had winced.

Suddenly, Natsuhi was reminded of why she ran to the digital world. 'Too many memories.' Nights on the balcony, kisses…that evening. Promptly, Natsuhi shut down the train of thought and cut off her feelings. She would not relive that pain, this was not the place.

"No thank you," she declined stiffly.

Yamato's father gazed at her contemplatively but nodded and passed the girl a can of coffee instead.

Something about her reaction unsettled him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what.

"You don't drink?" The middle-aged man asked conversationally.

Natsuhi shrugged, neither affirming nor denying the statement.

"Sorry, force of habit, I'm used to Yamato drinking with me. Beer tastes better when someone drinks with you," he chuckled as he took a sip. That's when he saw it, the flash of emotions in her eyes when he mentioned his son's name. Anger, pain, disappointment.

It would seem that the girl before him had more to do with his son's self-imposed exile than Takeru had let on. 'Or maybe Takeru doesn't know,' his mind suggested. At that though, Hiroaki quickly put his journalist deduction skills to work. His younger son had pushed his phone into his hand, begging him to call the girl. "Natsuhi-nee will be able to help, she has to." The faith the younger blonde had in the girl was astounding. Takeru wouldn't have put so much stock in the girl if he knew that she had something to do with his brother's sudden onset of depression.

"Takeru asked me to call you, he seems to think you can help." Hiroaki said lightly.

"I don't see how I can." If Takeru couldn't, Taichi couldn't and Sora couldn't, what could she do?

"But you still came anyway," Yamato's father continued without missing a beat.

There was a pause, then a soft snort. "Yet I still came," Natsuhi agreed, a wry grin playing on her lips.

That one grin told Hiroaki all he needed to know.

"The stupid things we do for love," Hiroaki commented offhandedly, taking another gulp of his beer.

The sudden comment caused Natsuhi to choke on her drink.

Hiroaki hid his smirk behind his beer can. So that was what his younger son was trying to tell him when he insisted that 'Natsuhi-nee is different, she is special to Nii-san.' 'Natsuhi-nee.' He knew how much his younger son treasured family due to their family status. Takeru would not use terms such as 'sister' around lightly if he didn't mean it. 'And Takeru did inherit Natsuko's impeccable judge of character…'

"Does everyone know now?" Natsuhi bit out, exasperation clear in her voice.

"Takeru…implied. Though it's quite obvious when you think about it. That stupid son of mine practically lives at your place."

Natsuhi, in a rare form, broke her composure and scrambled to make sure Yamato's dad didn't have the wrong idea about their relationship. "We're just-"

"Friends, I know. That's why my son's an idiot." Hiroaki chuckled good-naturedly.

It took Natsuhi a moment to get over the shock, but eventually she joined in his chuckling. "He is isn't he," she said with a fond but complicated smile.

It was the same smile that Gabumon and Beelzemon could not understand.

Hiroaki however, recognized the expression. In fact, he knew it very well. It's the same smile he wore when he decided to let his wife go. The same smile he still wears whenever he sees her photos, when he sees her. In that moment, he knew he could leave his son in this girl's hands.

"I know it's not my place to say this but… Sora's a great girl. She truly is. But she doesn't understand him, probably never will. But you do. Don't…don't let a misunderstanding ruin your relationship. It's not worth it." He would know, he was speaking from experience.

Natsuhi's head snapped up so fast at that statement that she almost got a whiplash. Yamato's father did not give her a chance to reply however. Instead he got up and gestured her to follow.

They stopped in front of a door at the end of a hallway. "This is Yamato's room. I need to go to work now…please take care of my son." At that, the taciturn man popped a cigarette into his mouth and left. Leaving nothing but the sound of the front door closing shut behind him.

Natsuhi stared at the wood grains on the door and let out a huge sigh.

Time to face the music.

Natsuhi rapped on the wooden door once and then twice. There was silence. Anger flooded Natsuhi as she waited, logically, she knew better than to expect a response, but there was nothing logical about anger.

"It's me." Her voice hard and carefully flat.

Behind the door, Yamato stiffened. This was not the same emotionless tone Natsuhi always used. No, this was Natsuhi angry.

On other side of the door, Natsuhi could practically hear Yamato thinking as he debated whether or not to open the door. But patience was never her strong suit, so she made the choice for him.

Deftly, she picked the lock on the door, a skill she retained from her less scrupulous days in the UK, and let herself in. The light that filtered in from the now open door had Yamato squinting in discomfort. Natsuhi took this time to find the light switch. By the time Yamato's eyes had adjusted to the light, the door had closed behind Natsuhi with a definite click.

There was obvious tension in the room as the two lone wolves stared at each other.

All words escaped Natsuhi as she stared at the broken man before her. She made the decision to come here on a whim, all she knew was that Yamato needed her, but she hadn't quite thought out what to say to him when she finally saw him.

Yamato stared back at her, like a deer caught it headlights. She was the last person he had expected to see, the last person he wanted to see…and yet the only person he was willing to see.

The stare down carried on for a few more moments as the two scrambled for words. Finally, it was Natsuhi who broke. The words forming themselves before she could think them through.

"What were you thinking?"

She had meant for the words to come out toneless, probing. Instead they came out accusing, exasperated and tinged with hurt. She almost regretted her tone, almost. Fortunately goading seemed to be what Yamato needed, because he responded before he could stop himself.

"She left me…I should have known, they always choose him over me. He's such an amazing guy. I'm just…never good enough. They always leave me, I'm not worth loving…nobody loves me…" Yamato rambled on brokenly, spiralling deeper into self-pity and self-loathing.

In that instance, Natsuhi saw red. Her anger bubbled into outright fury, leaving her breathing ragged as she choked out the next few words.

"Nobody loves you? NOBODY LOVES YOU!? What am I then huh!? Am I a nobody? I sit by your side through everything, give you all my time, all my support, all my love, and you think nobody loves you!?"

Everything felt so hot, from the anger coursing through her veins to the tears streaming down her face. Nastuhi wasn't even sure if this was anger anymore, because anger was cold, but this, whatever she was feeling. It felt like burning and suffocating all at the same time. It was love; it was heartbreak.

The fury was apparently infectious, Yamato locked his blazing blue eyes with her flaming silver ones, gaze accusing.

"Then why did you push me away that day!?"

Natsuhi's gaped at the accusation launched at her, but the shock quickly morphed into unbridled fury.

"YOU CALLED OUT HER NAME YAMATO. HER NAME." She roared back. Yamato recoiled visibly at that, but she wasn't done yet. Catching her breath, she continued, "You called for her, not me. What was I supposed to do huh? Pretend to be her? I'm sorry Yamato, I am DONE playing second fiddle to Sora!"

Yamato had no comeback for that.

Her statement lingered in the room awkwardly while the sounds of rain filled in the silence.

Eventually Natsuhi's anger petered and was replaced by another emotion. Sadness.

"I love you Yamato, I love you so much. But I…."

Yamato watched her form crumple against the wall, tired, exasperated, broken, even more than he was. He wanted to say something, anything to her, to make that look go away. But what was he going to say, sorry? Sorry didn't cut it at this point.

Yamato allowed a hallow laugh to rumble through his body at the twisted validation the situation provided him. He was right, he was good at only one thing, hurting. Everyone he loves and holds dear, he just ends up breaking them. An empty calm settled in the pit of his stomach as he embraced his decision.

"Leave," Yamato stated quietly, eyes and voice eerily calm, eerily empty.

The words filtered through Natsuhi's emotionally exhausted consciousness and she twitched.

"Please leave," Yamato repeated again.

Natsuhi lifted her head to look at the blonde before her and saw the defeatist thoughts radiating from him.

"I'm just a worthless terrible person completely, so please don't waste your love on me. Please leave."

Something in her snapped.

The rage she thought that had subsided was reignited, sweeping away the sadness like a whirlwind. The clenching pain of her heart still registered somewhere in the back of her head, but the desire to break Yamato's face superseded everything else.

How dare he, how dare he fucking ask her to leave. She came all the way here for him in despite of all the shit he's put her through, not only did he not offer her any explanation, and he thinks he can just ask her to leave while he retreats back into his little hole of misplaced self-pity? She was the fucking victim here, where the hell does he get off acting like he's the injured party and taking the easy way out.

Natsuhi stood up, but instead of heading towards the door, she walked in the opposite direction, closing the distance between herself and Yamato. One step, two step and by the fourth step, she was in front of him, her standing form towering over his seated one, anger rolling off her in waves.

The psychiatrist part of her brain told, no- screamed, for her to stop. What she was about to do would only make things worse, but she couldn't bring herself to care anymore. Yamato's self-pity parade has gone on long enough, someone needs to put an end to this, even if it ended in tragedy.

Smiling sweetly with a strange sad look in her eye, Natsuhi bent down and pulled her soon to be ex-best friend up by the collar.

"You think nobody loves you? You think you don't deserved to be loved? Well ," she leaned in to emphasize the last two words. "It's not up to you to decide whether or not you deserved to be loved."

Yamato was expecting many things, a punch, a slap or maybe both, but the last thing he expected was this. Natsuhi's lips crashing against his violently. It was a kiss only in the most technical sense, the force behind her lips were bruising and it sent their teeth knocking. It was really more like a punch disguised as a kiss. It was painful, it was violating. Natsuhi held no regard for Yamato's comfort as she shoved her tongue into his mouth, not caring in the least that he isn't kissing her back.

Yamato stood there, allowing her to have her way with him, too stunned to react. Then, the memories hit him. A similar setting, with bruising lips and crushing hugs, except it was himself in Natsuhi's position and vice versa. Yamato shuddered inwardly, was this what he put her through that evening when he stumbled back into her apartment?

Nips and bites were being littered on his neck, and had situation been different, Yamato would have welcomed the sensations. But as it stood, all this felt nothing more than Natsuhi venting. Gathering strength, Yamato moved to push the girl away, but she wouldn't let him. Grabbing his hands in a hold, she pinned them to his sides with her body weight.

"No, you're not pushing me away, you don't get to push me away. You're not getting rid of me even if you want to. I-"

The words 'love' and 'you' remained lodged firmly in her throat as she choked on emotions. Emotions she didn't know she still had. There was one, then two, and suddenly it was raining over his face, and Yamato realized that the rain were tears, and the tears were not his.

"I love you dammit, I love you so much. Why, why can't you understand? I want to love you, I don't want to leave you. You're not worthless, you do deserve to be loved. Or is my love not good enough?"

Her hands that were on his shirt were fisted together tightly, bunching up the fabric. Her head rested awkwardly between her hands against his chest as the sobs wrecked through her. "I love you," she whispered over and over again between sobs, her tears drenching the fabric of his shirt.

Her words re-awakened the emotions in him, and Yamato's hands moved on their own accord, wrapping themselves around the little ball of hurt that was straddling him. "I'm sorry," he whispered, holding her close, even though the words weren't enough. "I'm sorry, all I'm good at is hurting people, hurting you." He muttered into her hair dejectedly, arms wounding themselves tighter around her, hoping to somehow take away the pain. Pain that he caused.

"This is why I need to stay away, I'm only good at breaking the things I love," he said slowly, with a tinge of exasperation, as if trying to explain something to a small child.

"You idiot," she shut him down almost immediately, although there were no real bite to her words, just exhaustion. "You only hurt people when you push them away."

"But-"

"No buts, just, just listen. You may think you're protecting the people around you when you push them away, but in doing so, you're just hurting them. Every time you push us away, every time you choose to focus on those who don't love you over those of who do, it's like you're telling us our love isn't good enough for you." Of course by us, she mostly meant herself. "And that hurts Yamato, that hurts more than anything else." All the times Yamato chose to pine after Sora hit her like a bag of bricks. Clenching her eyes shut, Natsuhi suppressed the new wave of emotions that rose.

"But that's-"

"That's not what you meant to do, I know. But that's how it feels Yamato. We love you because we WANT TO, because we feel like you're worthy of our love even if you don't think so…in the first place, there's no such thing as being 'deserving of love'." And she would know, because she was once like Yamato, until her grandmother sat her down and told her what a selfish brat she was being.

Yamato was allowed a moment of reprieve as his best friend took the time to hastily wipe away the tears that were leaking uncontrollably. Doing her best to reign in her tears, the silver eyed girl continued. "Loving someone is a choice, we choose to love that person, because it's a choice, even if we get hurt in the process, it's pain we are willing, even happy, to bear. You can't tell someone how to feel." There was a pause, and Natsuhi gave into her selfish desire, "I will continue loving you, even if you never speak to me again." She let the heavy confession hang in the air.

"...I'm not worth you doing that." Yamato responded almost reflexively.

It was funny, Natsuhi thought. Every time Yamato says something stupid to her, she didn't think it could hurt anymore than the last. But they always do.

"Why are you so ready to hate yourself?" She moved to cup his face with one hand. Why couldn't Yamato see what an amazing person he is? That she is willing to put up with all this drama, all this pain because he is worth it.

Yamato looked away guiltily, "I'm sorry."

"You can't love others if you don't love yourself," she muttered softly. Yamato's only reaction was to turn his head even further away from her. Holding back a sigh, Natsuhi brushed away the hair covering Yamato's eyes. "You know, nothing hurts more than seeing you hate yourself."

At that, the guilt in Yamato's eyes amplified, "I'm sorry…"

Releasing one hand to rub the bridge of her nose tiredly, she thought to herself, what must she do to help Yamato understand that his entire thinking was flawed? Her eyes flitted to the digivice that sat on his bedside table and it hit her.

"If I- If Taichi were to tell you that he wasn't worthy your friendship, what would you do?"

Blue eyes blinked rapidly at the sudden change of topic. Without thinking, Yamato replied, "I'd punch him." If Taichi ever dared say something as stupid as that, he wouldn't just punch him, he'd pummel him.

Natsuhi briefly wondered if that meant she could punch him and knock some sense into the blonde. Nevertheless, this was a good start. "Love is a lot like friendship," She began almost conversationally, "You don't do things for your friends because you expect something in return, you aren't friends with someone because they're 'worthy'. You believe in them, rely on them, and in return they believe in you and rely on you…But I'm just preaching to the choir aren't I?"

The digidestined of friendship beneath her twitched uncomfortably. Logically, he knew that everything Natsuhi said was true, he knew that pushing people away only hurt them more. He knew that he shouldn't compare himself to Taichi. He knew that solitude wasn't the answer, that it was okay to rely on people. He knew. He learnt these lessons years ago. From Gabumon crying for him in that cave of darkness, from Taichi believing in him till his last breath during the fight against Piedmon…he knew it all. But…

"I..I can't help it," tears, genuine tears welled up in Yamato's eyes. On good days, when he's strong, he can keep those dark thoughts at bay. But every so often, when he's weak and vulnerable, the insecurities overwhelm him, sending him drowning in a sea of despair and self-loathing…which leads to him hating himself for being the way he was, starting a never ending vicious cycle. "I can't help it." Yamato sobbed, blue eyes staring straight into Natsuhi's silver ones.

It was a plea for help. This was what Gabumon was talking about.

"I'm broken. I know that, I've always been. That's why I'm jealous of Taichi, I know that I can't love anyone because I don't even love myself. I'm broken and he isn't, Yamato begin, "This is why when Sora chose me, I-Her crest is the crest of love, I just thought, if she chose me, that must mean that even someone like me is worthy of…something, I don't know. That maybe I'm not too broken to be loved. So I took the leap of faith, I tried, even though I didn't truly love her, I tried. I thought I could learn; I'd get better… But hearing her say that she chose me over Taichi because he's too good for her...it just-it proves that Taichi IS better than me, that I'm no good. I'm too broken for anyone…and even though I logically know that it's wrong, that she's wrong…I'm…I'm not strong enough to believe otherwise…I don't have the same courage when it comes to love. Friendships, they can be rekindled anytime, they can survive anything. But love…how am I supposed to believe in love when I see how my parents ended up. And I know that I'm like my dad, I'm just going to fuck it all up, drive the person I love away from me. And I did, I drove you away. So I know, I know I shouldn't but it's just easier to hate myself than to try."

Natsuhi had heard many tearful confessions and had always managed to remain rational and indifferent. But Yamato's confession shattered that indifference and dragged all sorts of emotions she didn't know she had out of her. "No, no you didn't," she mumbled as if the words couldn't come out any quicker. She placed both hands on his face, bringing them face to face, her tears falling onto his face uncontrollably. "You didn't drive me away, I'm still here. I'll always be here. Always. And if you're strong enough to believe, then I'll be here to remind you of how amazing and wonderful you are until you do. If you're too afraid to try and reach out, then I'll come knocking so you won't have to. If you're broken, I'll fix you, I…" Natsuhi swallowed, trying to wrestle her emotions under control again, "'I…I'm not a psych major for nothing. You can rely on me baka, that's what I'm here for." She managed to joke.

What a comical scene they must have made, her straddling him, eyes and clothes a mess, blue and silver eyes both brimming in tears.

Even though the entirety of Natsuhi's weight was still on him, something in her words made everything feel lighter. It felt vaguely reminiscent of how he black mist left him in the cave of darkness all those years ago. The huge load of insecurities and fears had seemingly lifted.

Yamato turned his focus back to the girl on top of him and looked. Really looked at her. And he saw her, the real her, for the first time. For once there were no walls around her, no tightly controlled emotions, just glittering silver eyes, raw with tears and emotions. It gave him a chance to truly look inside her. There he saw, every scar life had ever left on her, the determination, the steel, the love…she was beautiful. He was so lucky to have her in his life, so lucky to have her love.

"I love you," he blurted out without thinking, but it wasn't a lie. He really does. She was the only person in the world he was willing to bare his soul to.

His sudden words however, had an unexpected reaction as Natsuhi visibly flinched at the confession. Yamato saw her hastily throw up her walls again, but incomplete as they were he could see the fear and apprehension in her eyes at his confession and wanted to smack himself silly. He reached for her hand that was still on his chest and clasped it with his own.

"Sorry-"

"No, don't be. I..I believe you, well I know I'm supposed to believe you. I know you're not lying, there must be a perfectly logical explanation for what happened the other day at the apartment..I'm just…I can't help it," she choked out a bitter laugh, "Such a hypocrite I am."

The bitterness in her words set something off in Yamato and he pushed himself into sitting position, pulling Natsuhi to him so that she was nestled in his arms. "If you're broken, I'll fix you," he parroted her, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. That earned him a weak chuckle from her. "I'm serious, I broke you, so I'll fix you, I'll do everything I can to earn your trust again." he said solemnly. Regaining some sort of composure, Natsuhi rolled her eyes fondly and punched the blonde in the chest half-heartedly.

"I can't promise that I won't break you or hurt you again, but I love you Natsuhi, I love you more than anything in the world. So even if I do hurt you again, I promise I will always be there to pick up the pieces and put you back together," Yamato whispered earnestly, his eyes staring straight into hers.

There was a moment between them as they just sat there, staring into each other's eyes, reading all the emotions that were flashing through the respective pools of blue and silver. Outside, the rain finally let up and soft streams of sunlight filtered through the blinds. Instinctively, they both leaned in until their lips met in a gentle, reaffirming kiss. The kiss didn't last long, a few seconds at most, before the both broke apart, blushing fifty shades of red.

"So what now?" Natsuhi asked, still blushing somewhat.

Still sporting a blush himself, Yamato tucked his newly minted girlfriend's head under his chin and cuddled her from behind. "I don't know, we probably still have a lot stuff that needs to be talked out, but I'm honestly too tired for that right now." Natsuhi nodded in agreement, she had no more energy to spare for serious emotional talks. "But, I guess the bands in the band were onto something when they said we were practically dating," Yamato mused.

Natsushi chuckled audibly at that, "Touche. But still, we'll take it slow right?" She tilted her head up to look at her boyfriend. Just because they practically live together and act like an old married couple half the time doesn't mean they should rush headfirst into a relationship. She didn't think she could go on another emotional rollercoaster rides anytime soon.

Yamato tightened his arms around her as a sign of reassurance, "Yes, we'll definitely start slow. We'll just keep doing what we've been doing and take it from there, maybe holding hands now and then, a date here and there…I mean really, the guys in the band are right you know, we are practically like a married couple. I spend more time at your house than my own, we eat together, we even sleep together, nothing much will change really, we've actually just sort of been in a relationship together without knowing. It's just now we know, well now I know, and I can appreciate it, appreciate you." She nodded and laughed at his words, it was true. It's not about doing things differently, but just looking at it differently.

"We'll start slow," he assured her again, "In fact we can start now. Sleep with me." He said, and she looked at him in disbelief.

"That's slow?" Her usual sarcasm creeping back into her voice, and Yamato felt like punching himself in the face.

"Oh god, what I meant was, can I hold you while we sleep? I've always done it in secret, will be nice to do it when you're awake for once…" he trailed off shyly.

Natsuhi couldn't help it, she laughed. Yamato was just too cute. "Sounds like a plan." A nap sounded great anyways.

All cuddled up, Natsuhi wrapped her arms around Yamato's as if to reassure herself that it was real. "You know, when your dad told me to 'take care of his son', I don't think this is what he has in mind. He's going to going to freak out if he walks in on us like this," she said.

But Yamato knew better, "Oh please, we won't come home till tomorrow, and even if he does come home early, he's probably got his head in the gutter so much that he won't want to open the door because he expects to find the worse. It's fine, you can sleep in peace. Then we can go back to your apartment, clean up, eat, finish our talk and spend the rest of the week jamming and relaxing and learning about each other again."

A whole week of jamming and chilling out with Yamato? Natsuhi wouldn't give that up for the world. "Sounds good," she said with a yawn. A comfortable silence settled in the room until Natsuhi remembered something important.

"Hey Yamato."

"Yea?"

"Did you grab my house key when you left?"

"…No"

"Neither did I…"

-THE END-

Epilogue/Omake

Sitting across his brother in Natsuhi's dining room, Takeru was displeased. He had intentionally set their weekly brother's gathering at Natsuhi's apartment because he wanted to see his brother and 'sister in-law' together. Not together in the same physical space but together together.

However, for the past hour, he had seen nothing of the sort. The two behaved as they always had, occasionally exchanging banters and moving in sync in the kitchen. If he hadn't known any better, Takeru would have thought that the two of them had yet to get together,

Shaking his head slowly, Takeru heaved a sigh. Then again, what was he thinking. This was his brother and Natsuhi-nee he was talking about. The two least emotionally expressive people he knew. He supposed that perhaps his brother's excessive display of PDA had given him false expectations.

"What's wrong?" Yamato asked. It was not like Takeru to be frowning.

"Oh nothing, just thinking about some things," the younger blonde fibbed.

Thankfully, Yamato didn't probe as Takeru had just spent the past hour discussing his university housing options, which the older blonde automatically assumed was what his brother was thinking about. Oh how wrong he was.

"Dessert's about done, you guys want any coffee or tea to go with that?" Natsuhi gestured at the two pots in each hand.

Yamato turned around to look at his girlfriend in surprise, "Since when do you drink tea?" He asked while reaching out for the said pot of tea.

"Since I've got to write an article on boutique tea brands?" Natsuhi all but sighed. "Thank god for Yumiko-nee, that woman drinks more tea than I drink coffee," she added bemusedly.

Takeru felt his eyes widen at that statement; Natsuhi drank a LOT of coffee, he couldn't imagine someone drinking more tea than his surrogate sister drinking coffee and not die from caffine poisoning. Caught up in his thoughts, he almost missed the moment.

Natsuhi was leaning over his brother to pour coffee into her own mug, which was conveniently situated right next to the older blonde's. It wasn't a particularly intimate gesture on its own, but what followed next had Takeru feeling like an intruder. Just as Natsuhi was straightening up, Yamato reached an arm up and gently ran a finger down her cheek and her neck. A tiny gesture which the silver-eyed girl reciprocated by gently squeezing the junction between the older blonde's shoulder and neck. It all happened in a split second, Takeru was pretty sure that he would have missed it if he blinked. Yet, knowing his brother and Natsuhi as well as he did, these gestures spoke volumes.

Perhaps this trip wasn't such a waste after all. He couldn't wait till he told Hikari about this. She had been shipping them even before he had.

OMAKE 2

It was a sunny day out in the digital world and our favourite couple was enjoying picnic under the tree with their respective digimons. All of sudden, Yamato looked up, as if he had remembered something important.

"I owe Gabumon an apology don't I?" He muttered, more to himself.

His girlfriend took a moment to connect the dots and then inwardly aah-ed in satisfaction when she came to a reasonable conclusion. "Yes you do."

The whitish blue furball in question shrugged, so being Yamato's partner digimon meant dealing with a lot of emotional constipation and being pushed away. "It's okay, I'm used to it. Yamato's an idiot afterall."

Beelzemon promptly choked on his beer; and there he thought that the digimon of friendship was a kosher little thing...

A/N: AAAND THAT'S A WRAP! Thanks for coming on this journey with me, the Taiora chapters and omakes are in the works, but they're not really a priority on my list since I really need to finish my Iron Man fic *looks at readers guiltily*.

Anyways, this was a really challenging chapter seeing as I was trying to juggle the notion of love, friendship and Yamato's mountain of issues in one fight. I actually rewatched Digimon Adventure to make sure I got the details right. I know that in the anime, Yamato did resolve his inadequacy issues and abandonment issues etc. But I know personally that these issues do come back from time to time when you're emotionally vulnerable. Plus I think Yamato at 23 will look at relationships and emotions on a much deeper and complex level than Yamato at 11, meaning that there'll be unresolved issues on the same topic. But that's enough ranting from me.

Once again thank you guys so much for all your support and going on this journey with me. I hope that you guys not only enjoyed the story but also took away something from it. Love is both a simple yet complex topic. On that note.

LOVE YA'LL!