Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Precise and Exactly ❯ Precise and Exactly ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

By: Sugah

**Warnings/Disclaimers/Notes**
Digimon isn't mine, first off. The characters i'm using don't belong to me, just the plot and the dialogue...etc. ^^ you get the point. Second, this is about two boys getting intimate with eachother, having unusal thoughts, etc. There isn't any lemon, just emotion and a few kisses. XD~

As for the notes, well...i kinda wrote it in a weird way. You'll understand, really, but i figgered i'd warn you. Meant to be short, and sappy!

Enjoy!!

~Precise and Exactly~

~Part 1~

Four months and eleven days had passed since he came into the small corner café and found a table in the back corner, well away from the windows and main traveled spaces of the other customers. It had been three months, one week and two days since he noticed the same boy seated at the same table, in the exact same position every day he had stopped in to eat. Three months, one week and two days since he had noted the slight peculiarities of the boy, like how he placed his utensils exactly a finger width apart from his placemat, and his glass was always just so in the upper right corner. How he sat, perfectly straight with the exact same part and style as the day before, the exact same movements and the exact same order every time.

Three months, one week and two days since Daisuke had started keeping an exact track of this boy's exactness. One month, and four days since he had filled his first sketchpad with the small doodles and carefully shaded art of this boy. Now he was well on his way to completing his fourth.

Daisuke shrugged his way out of his loose jacket, sliding into the smooth pleather-covered booth. It didn't occur to him, three months, one week and two days ago, that his casual chaotic lifestyle would start centering on someone else's exactness. Daisuke smiled at the thought and dug through his bag for the battered pad, his worn nubs of pencils held together by a rubber band. He'd have to go and pick some up soon, he noticed absently, and fished out an eraser.

The waitress came and went, smiling at him and already writing his usual order down after a friendly greeting and glass of water on a pad of napkins. He waved with a retaliatory grin, his headphones already placed over his ears, and drew up his knees. His table, placed far in the corner, had given him the advantage of watching the entire store, the entrance and the bustling waitresses as they carried off plates or delivered food and smiled.

It was how he had noticed the boy, at first. Well, not noticed as much as realized he was noticing him there. In fact, in the few times Daisuke had arrived well before the starting date of three months, one week, and two days, he had been there as well. He had just never realized how odd it seemed, finding one normal-seeming boy move around with precise movements and careful exactness.

And today was no different, as Daisuke looked at his watch, then up at the soft jangle of the door. In walked the boy, with his soft-looking chin-length hair, a dark jacket done tight around him. A kind and small smile played briefly on his face-something that Daisuke had drawn over and over again for hours before he had gotten it right-as he walked to his usual booth and settled down. He was facing the window, a profile with his left side facing Daisuke, as he slipped the jacket off, revealing the same gray uniform of a private school, and began folding it in careful precise movements. The jacket, one of those expensive elegantly simple pieces, went over the back of the chair of the boy's left. Then, his chair was pulled out approximately one foot from the table and the boy settled in.

The utensils were unwrapped, and placed in their usual spot. The boy went through every routine, every thing that Daisuke was beginning to memorize. ~I have memorized it,~ he thought in amusement, and slouched. He flipped through his pad of paper to find a clean sheet, pencil held between his lips, and settled it on his knees. Drawing the exact one had become almost a precise ritual itself, and Daisuke could almost lose himself in the picture as it developed.

He was surprised, again, to find that he had focused on the face and drawn it as though he was only a table away. Of course, he had gotten glimpses of the face, of those strange-shaded eyes and the feministic features that made him beautiful instead of handsome. He had always left first, always walked by as if he hadn't spent the last hour or so drawing and sneaking glances and peeks and careful stares.

Daisuke smiled behind his paper, and added shading to the eyes. He had a lot of other sketches where the eyes had been shaded light, or completely dark, or not at all-even after three months, one week and two days, he wasn't sure of the exact color. He was sure it was gorgeous, though. Just like the rest of him.

He became absorbed in his art for the next fifteen minutes, switching papers and different sketches when he got a different idea. He drew mostly from memory, of quick snatches of emotion, a smile or a pensive frown as the boy watched the crowds through the glass. Some days Daisuke the boy reminded him of watching someone on the outside of a room, sad and lost and simply waiting to be let in. Other days it was like melancholy happiness flashing like sheet lighting on that exactly controlled face that Daisuke had begun to see even when he wasn't drawing.

He was also wondering what the boy's name was, if he had a nice one or a weird one. If he had sisters or a girlfriend-he didn't like the thought of that one so much-but he was dying to know more about his mysterious café-goer. Itching to find out just what was hiding behind that control, that exactness. Why he went through that routine day after day and wore so many different pains on his face behind that mask. Why and if he laughed, and what he found funny and-

Sighing, Daisuke barely noticed as his food arrived, and smudged a line of shading around the outside edge of the shoulder, giving his drawing a background. He smiled reflexively at the waitress, who winked flirtatiously before she left, and munched on a few fries before glancing up to see what the boy was exacting out this time.

He didn't know it yet, but in three months, one week, and two days, he had fallen in love.

~=~

It was getting later in the afternoon, and the rains had started nearly two hours since, and the boy had resumed one of his rarer exacting routines. A book, a notepad and a pen, and nearly an hour of exact tiny writing-Daisuke had looked once, on his way to the bathroom-of what was apparently studying. Homework. Figures. Daisuke stretched, noting that it was getting close to the dinner rush, and flexed his fingers. It was a good day to study, a Saturday, with all the time of the world in your hands and the quiet lull of the rain to soothe the rest of it away.

Then, after three months, one week, and two days of sitting in the corner, watching from behind his flimsy shield of paper and trying his best to capture a soul in precision, Daisuke found himself marking the day off as a start to something new. <br

"Excuse me…Hinoko-san said that there will be a rather large group of people tonight and they require my table to seat them all-I was wondering if there was room back here for two?"

Daisuke blinked rapidly behind his paper, in the midst of erasing several smudges, his pencil in his mouth, and peeked over the top with a wide-eyed glance.

~ohmygodohgodhe'shere~ "Umf?"

The boy smiled a faint smile, holding his bag in one arm with the jacket draped over the crooked elbow. "This is the only possible seat I am able to take-if you don't mind? I merely need to study."

~He even talks exactly,~ Daisuke thought, and continued to stare. "Uhn, sur'? G'head…"

"My name is Ken," the boy replied, a tiny glint of amusement deep behind those eyes-which Daisuke found to be a brilliant and stunning shade of blue, tinged with violet. Or was it violet tinged with blue? Indigo?

~Baka!~

Daisuke yanked the pencil from his mouth, feeling a bit foolish, and nodded. "Daisuke," he muttered, and discreetly slipped the artbook closed as he scrambled to clear a spot. He looked up, watching with wide and frequently blinking eyes as the object of his long-range art-obsession sat himself down into the seat across from him with a grace that would have made a wind-blown ribbon seem clunky.

He found himself swallowing faintly, and pulled his knees up, braced his art pad on them and forced his eyes to focus in on what he was drawing.

He barely noticed it, could barely draw, as his attention seemed to be taken by the soft and repetitive sounds of the page turning, the minute skritching as Ken wrote down his notes-~what a simplistically beautiful name,~ he thought absurdly-and slunk a bit lower in his chair. Heart thudding mercilessly, mouth dry and hands twitching enough to send his art skills out the window, Daisuke peeked over the edge of his pad of paper.

Oh god.

Ken sat, one hand curled up to support his head and the other hovering with the pen, marking the paper in tiny exact writing, head bent to focus on the textbook. Dark hair swept forward, hiding most of his face, but Daisuke could still see the faint lines of concentration, the set of the lips and the occasional soundless murmur that Ken seemed quite unaware of doing.

Silently, slowly to avoid the notice of the perfect opportunity sitting before him, Daisuke slipped to a clean page of the slightly heavy paper, and peeked again.

Ken, apparently ignoring him, merely pushed hair out of his eyes and focused on something for a moment-

It was all Daisuke needed. He set his pencil to the page and captured the image, placed it on the upper edge of the page to leave more room for possible additions-he wasn't sure if Ken would take notice of his activities or not, but the less attention he drew the better. So, like other drawings, he set himself up for a colleague of pictures.

~Ken, slave to the gods of school?~ his mind muttered as an absent way of mental picture-naming; he carefully shaded in the curving lines of a neck, then the arch of a shoulder and a particular intense look. ~Ken, Study-God.~

Time passed slowly, too quickly by far to Daisuke, who had now crammed nearly ten unique glimpses onto a single sheet of eight by eleven. He was edging his eraser down the outline of one arm and a book, simple lines and shading that left his focus drifting across each one by turn, looking for flaws and finding few.

Then, without his noticing, Ken glanced up as he had done so throughout the entire time his company had dropped the focus to the pad of paper braced on knees, taking in the baggy ripped clothes, the carefree state of hair, the tanned skin. All in a glance, as Daisuke squinched his face in thought, and Ken dropped his gaze back to the notebook of tiny exact writing, smiled inwardly.

He was on the last page, Ken noticed, and very close to being done with his homework. As he glanced at the wristwatch hidden by the cuff of his sleeve, nearly dinnertime-but his parents didn't expect him back for much later.

So be it.

"Daisuke," he said, as he flipped the book closed and placed his pen atop it. With his voice in simple, if quiet, curiosity, he asked, "What exactly are you doing?"

~=~

It would occur to him later that he must have looked absolutely ridiculous, freezing into place with the pencil clamped between his teeth, the mere act of moving his hands an impossibility while that question hovered on the air. He stared, then blinked rapidly while he felt an impromptu blush steal over his features.

"Essuse 'e?"

Ken folded slim and graceful white hands under his chin, the ends of his hair swaying forward just enough to brush the backs of his hands. He smiled, faintly, watching Daisuke from a calm façade as the redhead peeked over the cardboard edge of the pad.

"I've been watching you for the last three months or so," Ken replied calmly, matter-of-factly. "You've been in here everyday I have, in the same corner, in the same pose. You eat the same meal, and you always sit with something on your knees-but I was curious to know what exactly you do."

Daisuke blinked again, and he spat the pencil into his lap in disbelief. "You saw me?"

A nod.

"Really?! I mean, I never saw you looking and-" Daisuke blinked and snapped his mouth shut as Ken merely watched in private amusement. His cheeks, if possible, turned a slightly darker shade of red.

"Um…well, I, uh…." Daisuke fidgeted, and glanced at his collection of sketches. "You see, I…uhm…you're going to think I'm weird…"

"Try me."

"It's been…" Daisuke cleared his throat. "Three months, one week and two days since I started noticing these things, you see, about you…I mean," Daisuke scrubbed a hand through his hair and laughed nervously. "You always sit in the same table, the same chair, and move your plate and glass just so, and…well, I just kinda noticed how exact you are."

"I see," Ken murmured, a glint in his eye betraying his smooth mask of serenity. "My precision clashed with your chaotic lifestyle?"

"Aa…something like that…" Daisuke flashed him a grin. "But that's not all-I'm an artist, you see, and I kinda started drawing you…that's what I've been doing. I draw. Mostly, though, I've drawn you, because you're always the same…but then I started seeing a thousand little things that I never noticed before…"

Ken favored him with a small smile, and with curious eyes, he said, "You draw me? Honestly?"

Daisuke nodded, his cheeks aflame and his confidence shriveling before this sudden interest.

"May I?"

Wordlessly, as he slumped in seat, Daisuke handed over his sketchpad and covered his eyes a moment later. ~Never thought I'd show him-never thought he'd sit here either-~ Thready anticipation and clamoring dread whirled in his stomach. Perhaps Ken would merely laugh, and go away-maybe he'd become some sort of scornful mocking and derisive creature-

"These are incredible, Daisuke," came the soft reply.

Daisuke peeked between his fingers hopefully, caught a glimpse of Ken perusing through the pages with a serious look, the same look he gave to homework and textbooks alike. "You…like it?"

Ken looked up at him, smiling with a pleased flush. "They are perfection, Daisuke. I have yet to see a photo that captures so many elements the way you captured mine…"

"You can have some, if you'd like…" Daisuke said hesitantly. He realized his hands were still blocking his eyes, and removed them hastily. "I mean, they're drawings of you; I figured you're entitled to one, at least. You can give it to your mom or something…"

"Very well, then," Ken smiled again. "I will do so-if you choose the one you deem best."

"I have to choose? But she's your mom!"

Ken merely placed the art-pad on Daisuke's side of the table, folded his hands and rested his chin on them, waiting. "She will accept nothing less than perfect-and you, since you have drawn them all, would know which one would suit. Please, Daisuke-kun, choose?"

Daisuke smiled rakishly, and leaned forward. "All right…but you have to answer my questions as payment."

~=~

"Wow-you have a brother who's studying overseas?"

Ken nodded, his hands wrapped around a steaming cup of tea-Daisuke discovered he preferred a light herbal tea and filed away the thought for later. "Yes, 'niisan left last year to study in England-I haven't seen him for several months…"

"Man…sounds almost nice-I can't get my sister to leave me alone…"

"I miss my brother…we used to come here all the time. We sat at the same table and talked about school and studies and what we wanted to do with our lives…" Ken smiled faintly, and it wasn't a sad smile, just a nostalgic one. "I know he wants to visit more, but his time is taken up by his job and his studies-and I couldn't be a bother if I went to visit him-"

"So you just wait for him?" Daisuke leaned on a palm and raised a brow. "Is that why you come here day after day? So you can remember him?"

Nodding faintly, with a faint tinge of pink on his cheeks, Ken smiled shyly and said, "It's foolish, I know-but it helps. It's calming, really."

Curious, Daisuke fiddled with his pencils. "You come here because you refresh your memories of him? Doesn't a picture work the same way? Don't you have any photos of happy times?"

Ken looked startled, and with a precise shrug and rueful smile, he remarked, "I suppose-but neither of us are very fond of getting our picture taken-my brother was sort of a celebrity for being so smart as a child, and I haven't seemed to escape the limelight-it meant we were always having pictures taken and questions asked of us and all sorts of rude things-which is why I'm surprised at your drawings, Daisuke." The boy paused delicately, while Daisuke stared at this sudden and unexpected admission of a fault. "I find them appealing, because they capture things people usually miss."

Daisuke flushed again, pleasure at the praise searing through him, and shrugged. "They're okay…"

"They're good," Ken insisted softly. "Very good. My mother will probably faint when she sees the one you've chosen-she always wanted pictures of us behaving more naturally…"

"I'm glad she'll like it…"

Ken glanced down at his watch. "It's getting late, however…" He smiled softly in apology and began gathering his things, his eyes carefully drawn away. "I should go-I hope to see you here again sometime, Daisuke-san."

Hiding a sudden upheaval of disappointment and hope all mixed into one, Daisuke shot to his feet, exclaiming, "Hold on-I can walk you to the bus stop! I gotta get going too, and I don't live too far off-"

"I'd like that…"

~=~

Feeling absurdly crazy and lightheaded, Daisuke didn't care that the rain was soaking into his right side and dripping into his shoes. Ken had offered to share his umbrella, but it was the small sort and couldn't quite fit two people unless they became really close-and the mere thought of sidling up to that slender body sent goosebumps racing down his skin. The air had a wet earthy smell to it, the rain was cool but not unpleasantly so, and the boy he had been watching for three months, one week and two days was walking in the rain with him.

It was too bad that the bus stop was only a few more blocks ahead of them-he rather liked spending time with this introverted boy who spoke precisely and did everything in measures. It was bad enough that he had to go home and probably throw himself onto his bed in a fit of embarrassment-the embarrassment that still flushed his face when he thought of it, and wondered-

-What would Ken say if he knew that the art he had seen was the fourth book he had filled?

But Ken was speaking, and he forced himself to focus on what the boy was saying.

"Tell me, Daisuke…do you believe in following your impulses?"

Daisuke blinked, hair dripping into his eyes and glanced at the other boy. In the subdued and hazy street lighting, the boy looked ethereally pale, his dark hair dry and flowing around his face, his eyes nearly luminescent.

It was hard to speak. "Well, yeah, I guess. I don't think that you should do anything if you don't feel that it's right…"

"How would you know if it's right or not?" Ken's face was intense, and yet slightly remote.

Daisuke shrugged, taking it to be one of the random things they found themselves speaking of, and thought for a second. "Dunno. You just do, I guess. Like-like when you see the view from the mountains and you can't breath because it's beautiful-you know it's stunning, but you don't know why."

"I see." Then, a moment later, Ken continued. "Do you think that I should follow my impulses?"

"Well, if you're getting impulses to rob a bank or something, I'd have to say no," Daisuke teased. "But, honestly, I think everyone should."

They were nearing the row of benches and protective plastic barriers that kept out the gentle rain-Daisuke noted that no one seemed to occupy them at this hour. Everyone seemed to be either home or somewhere else. The sense of privacy, of being alone, tingled slowly as Ken seemed to fall silent, contemplative; Daisuke found himself watching the boy out of the corner of his eyes as they stepped in out of the rain. He watched Ken blink in reaction, feeling a thread of anxiousness and nameless pain as the dark-haired boy tilted the umbrella off of his shoulder and shook the rain away. He shut it without speaking, without looking at Daisuke, still deeply immersed in his inner thoughts.

"So, I guess-" the redhead began slowly, suddenly feeling shy. ~In a few minutes he'll be on that bus and probably forget about me…~

"Daisuke-" Ken said softly. "I want to thank you for the gift of the picture. My mother will be overjoyed, and-" Clutching the umbrella in one hand while the bag of his books and pens and papers slid to the concrete, Ken turned to face Daisuke.

"Eh, Ken, you don't have to-Ken?" Daisuke found himself whispering out in alarm, shocked, as Ken stepped close to him, the look in his eyes not quite fervent, not quite wild.

"You said to follow your impulses," Ken whispered, "So I am."

Daisuke's back hit the cold plastic with a little smacking sound as Ken drew close, the look in his eyes thrilling and breathtaking-

-Ken kissed him, the brief flutters of a hand grazing his cheek as the lips pressed into Daisuke's mouth

~He's kissing me!!!!~

And Daisuke melted, a hot pool of something sudden in his belly spreading through his veins like heat lightning. Emotions and thoughts that he wouldn't remember until later imprinted themselves as he fell into that simple chaste kiss-chaste and desire thrown together in a hasty and precise kiss that spoke of chaos leaking around the edges.

Later, Daisuke would remember the scent of the shampoo that Ken used, the scent of the rain on his shoulders and skin, the feel of the mouth warm against his own. He didn't remember closing his eyes-although he would see those vivid indigo eyes in his dreams for weeks to come-and he didn't remember when he had put his hands against that narrow chest, but the feel of that quickly pounding heart under his palm would stay with him for a long time.

The clothing, the firmness of his body, was warm against Daisuke's hands as Ken pulled back just enough to inhale a slow and shaky breath and breathe it out again in quick and moist pants. Daisuke reflexively wet his lips, surprised and pleased and shy all at once, feeling the wetness in his hair dripping down his skin. He stared, head at a faint tilt as he looked into those eyes that seemed barely controlled and wild and calm all at once.

Something flickered in that gaze, a well of sadness and regret and affection, as Ken shivered. "I have to go," he whispered breathlessly. "I'm sorry-I have to go…"

Belatedly, Daisuke noticed that the bus had arrived, felt foolish and kind of embarrassed that he hadn't noticed its noisy entrance. Uncertainly he let Ken step away and watched him bend, watched his hands scoop up the handle of the bag in slow motion and felt his heart contract.

Something felt…off.

But Daisuke discarded the idea and grabbed up his own bag from where it had fallen. Ken, standing on the edge where the dry cement ended and the rain fell softly only inches away, looked back over his shoulder at him.

"Thank you for the picture, Daisuke," Ken smiled, a brilliant open smile where white teeth glinted and the eyes creased. "I'll treasure it."

Daisuke opened his mouth-it felt like a goodbye, to him, but at the same time not a goodbye-but Ken was gone, flashed up the steps and into the interior. If he squinted, he could make out the dark backlit-shadow that was Ken make his way to an empty seat. The doors closed, and the bus jerked to life, and began to pull away.

Breathless still, Daisuke watched the bus leave, watched it drive down the street until the haze of rain and other traffic made it impossible to see where it had gone, and if a boy seated against the last window was still watching him.

It was then that Daisuke realized that he hadn't gotten to say goodbye, or a "see you later," or anything like that. It didn't matter that one of his more private dreams had been fulfilled in the manner of that unexpected kiss; it didn't matter that he would spend the next few weeks paging slowly through his artbooks, staring at the pictures and pressing fingers to his mouth-

-it simply didn't matter, in the end.

~=~

Ken didn't show the next day, or the day after that. Daisuke spent one month and three weeks waiting at the table, touching up his pictures and aimlessly sketching various unfinished works until he got restless and started something else, only to repeat it. He started missing one day in the week, then two, until he was showing up only on the Saturdays.

After two months and three days of waiting, summer began, as Daisuke kept track to the days he was without the exact presence of Ken. Soon, Daisuke realized he was going weeks without stopping in at the café, thought that perhaps Ken did stop by, but…

Something inside him, something hurt and tight and curled up in a shivering heap of pain was keeping him from going back.

It hurt to go back-

It hurt to see that empty table.

It hurt to see the pages and the pencil marks.

It hurt to see the bus stop where that single quicksilver kiss had happened-that hurt so much Daisuke began going out of his way to avoid it.

When school began, exactly five months and four days since that rainy evening in a hazy world, Daisuke was glad for the distraction. Glad for the annoyance of doing homework and falling almost instantly asleep at night, of forgetting his art and drawings. Glad for the fact that thinking of anything else left him away from that void in his middle…

~=~

It was five months, two weeks and four days when Daisuke was drawn into a conversation that brought all that pain back.

"Oiy-Daisuke, what do you think love is?"

Startled, he looked up out of the book he was reading, the text for his history class, and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "What's love? Why are you asking me that?"

"Come on, just answer!"

"Well…" Flustered, and suddenly uncomfortable, Daisuke glanced around the table. "I suppose love is…noticing everything about them without knowing you see it….Love is watching them smile and feeling your heart die…kissing them and having your soul expand…watching them go and feeling it crack…" his words fell into softness, barely heard words as his eyes unfocused and a sort of anguish stole over his features.

"Love is impulsive…"

Out of the others, Takeru was the first to speak. "Wow…you should write that down. Who's the lucky girl?"

Blinking and flushed, Daisuke started. Eyes full of some indefinite hurt peered out at them. Slowly, he shook his head, and gathered his things. "It doesn't matter…" he said as he stood. "It's been nearly six months since he left…"

The others watched him go in confusion, in hesitation-they didn't understand, nor could they help, but they sensed the pain.

But they could do nothing.

~=~

After school Daisuke found himself wandering the streets, his shadow dancing away in front of him. He wandered without intent, without thinking, and found himself in front of the café.

For the first time in several months, exactly four months and one day since his last visit, Daisuke found himself going inside.

~=~

He didn't know what to expect, as he walked through the door. A part of him wiggled in the faint hope that this time would be the time that Ken, sitting in the same place and wearing the same clothing, would look up and smile at him-

-But the rest of him cringed, whispering in faint whimpers not to enter and to just leave. But it had been a long time since his last visit, and Daisuke just needed to sit somewhere quiet. He just needed-something-

His heart stilled suddenly, as his eyes fell across the table where Ken would sit, feeling a leap somewhere in his middle-someone was there-

But it wasn't Ken.

A young man, older by several years, sat there in the seat across from Ken's chair, with a book open before him and a cup of steaming coffee at his elbow. A briefcase rested near his feet, as the man calmly turned the page and continued to read.

Daisuke felt a wild stab of hurt, of pain, without knowing why. He felt frozen, as he watched the man, with his wild dark and violet hair, his glasses that framed indistinguishable eyes. For a long and oddly drifting moment, Daisuke could have sworn it was Ken seated there, only…

…opposite.

Shaking in fine tremors, Daisuke shoved the thought away, and walked quickly to his table in the corner. He slumped into the bench, digging out his cd-player and applying the earpieces, then pressed the 'play' button. He sighed, leaned back against the seat and slouched until his back complained, eyes shut and heart fading into numbness.

He did not notice, as he sat there, how the man with the glasses glanced at him sharply, curious and with a dawning light of recognition…

~=~

It had been nearly a year since Osamu Ichijouji had returned here, to the café. Idly, he glanced at the dejected-looking young man, feeling a twinge of familiarity, and wondered at the same moment where his brother was.

Ken was late exactly nine minutes and forty-eight seconds.

The time had crawled its way to fourteen minutes and twenty-one seconds when Osamu glanced up to see the boy pull out what looked like a notebook and begin to page idly through it, eyes dark with unnamed emotion. A mouth tightened here, eyes flickered in concentrated pain there, and Osamu witnessed an odd thing.

The boy, shaking, pushed the book away with enough force to send the pages fluttering-Osamu saw then that it's pages were filled with tiny sketches and caught his breath-

-and then he knew-

The boy, there, was the Daisuke that his brother had spoken about.

The one that had drawn the picture his mother was so proud of, the one that showed his brother with a thoughtful and slightly amused glance at the world-the face that no one but family saw.

The one his brother loved.

I don't think that I'll be posting very many digi-fics on ffnet for much longer. I just wanted all you lovely fans to know, though, and since this story hardly breaks any of the new 'rules' that Xing has instated, well…I thought this would be a good way to make sure you all know. ^^ If you didn't know, "BodyHeat" and "Oasis" have been updated… XD~

My fics are currently at http://www.mediaminer.org/fanfic/src.php?auth=59248 and Digi! Art can be found at http://athravan.deviantart.com so I hope to hear from you!! I miss all of you!! *hugs*