Love Letters

Yamato sat on his bed as he strummed quietly on his guitar. With Gabumon still a captive of the Digimon Kaiser, the Teenage Wolves were on indefinite hiatus. The others in the band accepted it reluctantly, and although he appreciated their offers to come to them for help if he needed it, he made it clear it was something he had to deal with alone. Unfortunately, although there was no bad blood between him and his band mates, not being able to perform removed a major outlet of letting out emotions that he kept locked up inside him.

This left Yamato alone in his room idly playing his guitar, with no direction to guide him. He poured his emotions in to the melody without bothering to even attempt composing a song. He had a stack of new compositions ready and waiting, and making more would only frustrate him further at this point. Right now, this nameless tune he played was a pure expression of his frustration and anger ripped from his heart and unleashed upon his empty apartment so that he would not have to feel those emotions so sharply – at least for the moment.

Yamato lost himself to the music, going from slow and somber to harsh and jagged notes that made the water in the glass on his nightstand dance. He was one with the music, not knowing where it would take him but relishing every high and low it brought him.

Unfortunately, the experience was shattered and Yamato was jerked harshly back to reality by the jarring sound of his cell phone ringing. He paused, glaring at the thing for daring to interrupt him, until he recognized the ringtone. His anger evaporated and he nearly fell out of his bed in his haste to take off his guitar and almost knocked over the water when he snatched up his cell phone. "Yo, Takeru!"

The familiar voice that came through the cell phone was quiet, strained by stress. "Hey."

Yamato frowned, brow furrowing with concern. "What's up?"

Silence answered at first, save for Takeru's soft breathing, until eventually he let out a frustrated sigh. "Okay, this is going to sound weird no matter how I say it, so I may as well say it. What do you do with… unwanted love letters?"

Yamato blinked once, twice, and then a third time as the implications slowly sunk in. Once he realized what had caused his little brother such distress, he had a hard time suppressing his urge to laugh, a snicker coming out from his covered mouth in spite of himself.

"I'm serious!" Takeru said, exasperated. Although Yamato could not see Takeru's face, the older boy easily imagined his brother making exaggerated gestures at the love letters in question with pinked cheeks. "Every time I go to my locker, there's more of them! There must be dozens of them!"

"That's what you get for being the cute new kid," Yamato said with a teasing note to his voice that hinted at his barely contained laughter "Add in the fact that you're a blonde in a sea of brunettes and there's just no avoiding it." He nearly lost his composure when he heard Takeru let out a breath in a disbelieving snort. "You were fine at your old school because you kept to yourself, but here… joining the soccer team was your first mistake. Now everyone knows your face."

"I'm beginning to see that," Takeru grumbled. "But I'm not about to quit, not that I think it'd change anything. I just… what am I supposed to do? Do you answer them, throw them away…?"

"Have you checked first to make sure none of them are from Hikari?" Yamato asked, trying to sound as innocent as he could.

The choke and sputtering on the other line told Yamato that Takeru had been drinking something – something that was likely now everywhere except in his little brother's mouth. Yamato tried not to laugh and only partially succeeded as Takeru fumbled to recover from a minor coughing fit.

"Brother–!" Takeru sputtered, choking out the words with a suspiciously higher pitch to them. "No, there is nothing from Hikari!"

"Oh, so you did check," Yamato said teasingly.

Takeru was caught sputtering, and Yamato could imagine his blush had gone from pink to bright red as he struggled for words. "I-I'm being serious!"

"So am I," Yamato said, his voice growing sly. "That girl better move fast, given all the sudden competition."

"There's no competition," Takeru muttered under his breath. It was so soft, more to himself than his brother, but Yamato heard him regardless of whether or not he meant to be heard. "She has enough to deal with. I'd rather not make things complicated. Especially with Daisuke…"

Yamato tilted his head. "You think he has a chance?"

Takeru was silent for nearly half a minute before he answered. "If he does, it's entirely Hikari's choice," he said in a voice just barely above a whisper. He forced himself to sound unconcerned, but Yamato could see right through the attempt. "I'm fine with whatever she decides, if she even decides at all."

Yamato quirked an eyebrow as he leaned back against the headboard. "So you don't plan on 'fighting for the girl'?"

"She has enough fighting to deal with," Takeru muttered, sounding faintly bitter. "She doesn't need it coming from me too." He grunted then continued before Yamato could ask what he meant by that. "Anyway, that's not why I called you. What am I supposed to do with these letters?"

"Are any of them signed?" Yamato asked as he flopped onto his back, his eyes drifting towards the ceiling. "Do you even know any of them?"

"Some are, and I don't recognize any of the names," Takeru said, growing more exasperated by the moment. "I even got a note from a guy warning me not to go near his girlfriend, which he signed before he apparently chickened out and tried to cover it up with whiteout. But all I have to do is hold it to the light, and I can still see his name. What's up with that? Why didn't he just re-write the stupid thing?"

"He wasn't clever enough to realize that you could do that," Yamato said, with a chuckle. "Anyway, I used to respond to them, but it never did any good. They just kept coming, and thanks to the band, I get even more now. I'd just get rid of them, after making sure to destroy them. They're private feelings, so you don't want some dumpster-diving creep to get them… especially if that creep is one of the girls that wrote you a letter."

"Are… are you serious?" Takeru asked, slowly, his disbelief so plain in his voice that Yamato could easily imagine him gawking. "Does that… actually happen?"

"Once," Yamato said, with a sigh as a flush of embarrassment and unease ran through him at the memory. "Never again."

Takeru was silent for almost a full minute before he let out a soft sigh. "Girls can be weird."

Yamato chuckled, a wry grin spreading across his face. "Welcome to puberty."