Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Under Stress ❯ Interlude ( Chapter 3 )

Oh, I saw all the wonderful reviews for the last chapter and dropped everything: deadlines, dinner, social plans, overall personal appearance... <laughs nervously /> to write this next chapter. Technically, it's just an intermission because no song should be subjected to such a short chapter.

But then, I couldn't stop writing... So do read chapter four as well!
By the way, I don't own Digimon. Duh.

The soap water fell over the rag and the girl's pruned fingers. If it had been yesterday, when she wasn't too tired to think but too tired to care, she would've casually built the bubbles into mounds, blowing the largest off the top and into the air. Today she was at one extreme, and her hands limply carried the black dishrag over the plates. Per the overwhelming motif, all the dishes were black, circumscribed with a line of gold. Miyako almost cracked a smile. He could be so transparent. He hid his eyes behind smoked shades and kept his face stonily silent, but she could stare inside his head just by staring at her surroundings. The kitchen where she stood now didn't even have one window. The tile on the floor was black, the stones that built the wall were black - the refrigerator was black! She alone broke the somber mood. Her hair, last brushed a week ago, was a beautiful tint of purple. Sure, her pants were grey, but her shirt was a vivid red - albeit worn and dusty. But not only her environment lent her a clear view of the boy's psyche.

Early last week her brain was a fog - recovering in that barren bedroom for her disloyalty. She thought she'd seen him next to her bed, huddling on the floor. But reality was so indistinguishable from her dreams. If it was a dream, why would she long for him to be near her? Miyako scrunched her brow, filtering out the knots of unconsciousness. No, he was there. It wasn't a mere dream.

But why had he come? She could only think of one reason: he'd been to check on her? Was he worried? Or... well, why else would someone check on an injured person? But if he didn't want her to know, why didn't he just send Wormmon? She remembered glancing over at her alarm clock and reading that it was two in the afternoon. He was still in his pajamas, right? She knew he hadn't been clad in his Kaiser clothes. Right now, Miyako mused, she wouldn't be shocked if he'd done the same thing today. It seemed like he'd been losing to her faraway friends a lot lately, and moping around was becoming part of his routine. She knew he'd been working on something big, a secret weapon of sorts, but that too had been replaced by sleeping in and locking himself in his bedroom. She turned to look at the red digits on the clock on the wall. Eleven thirty-six on a - it was Saturday, right? More than likely he was out conquering and oppressing. That would explain why she hadn't seen Wormmon yet. Miyako felt like going and searching to check if they both were gone, but didn't dare. She'd changed a lot since last week as well.

Too much. There were things she would've pushed in the past. Questions that nagged at her that she would've demanded answers to. She still asked herself that question, but could push it out of her conscious thoughts with a few dirty dishes. It no longer troubled her like it should've. If she'd been whole.

EH: Nothing here. Seriously.
Miyako: um, Chapter 4 awaits! Go NOW!