Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Serve to Please ❯ Serve to Please ( One-Shot )

A/N: Kensuke. Is there anything more perfect? Now, regardless of my hatred of the so-called "ending" of Digimon, I do adore Miyako, along with all her…shortcomings. Don't worry, this is definitely a Kensuke/Daiken, it's just a little Miyako-centric. So if you love the feisty little pimpstress, this one's for you. And if you don't, give her a chance. The ending wasn't her fault. Which brings us to…

Disclaimer: Yes. UNFORTUNATELY Digimon and all related characters are the property of a bunch of big companies who…(insert anti-Toei rant here).

This takes place when the 02 kids are in high school. It's their summer vacation. What a nice setting for a romance. ^_^

~Serve to Please~

~Monday. 3:12 pm.~

"Ahh! Damn that's hot!" Miyako flinched as a small wave of hot chocolate sloshed out of the mug and onto her arm. "Daisuke, that moron. Who the hell orders a hot chocolate at this time of year?"

The summer of her senior year at Odaiba High, Mr. And Mrs. Inoue decided it was high time they yanked their youngest daughter away from her romance novels and summer TV programs, and sat her down.

It was time to grow up. That didn't mean move out of the house or get married and have kids. Oh no. Their command surpassed even those extremities:

"Get a job."

Groping her face with her hands in disgust, Miyako rejected working the cash register at the Ai Mart before the offer even left her father's mouth. Wanting nothing more than to distance herself from the family business, she immediately applied for the first job she found: Waitressing.

It may not have been the best choice for such a girl, but the periodic company of her Digidestined chums, as well as the companionship of fellow waitress Jun Motomiya, was enough to keep her striving for that fifty cent tip.

Miyako plunked Daisuke's order in front of him and scowled at her burnt arm. "Here."

Daisuke looked up from the crowded side of the booth that he shared with Ken and Iori. "Impolite waitresses don't get a tip," he said casually.

Smiling a smile that reeked of saccharine, Miyako folded her hands in front of her and stuck her face in Daisuke's. "Here you are! Is there anything else I can get you, oh royal asshole?"

Takeru and Hikari giggled from the opposite side of the booth. "Yeah, great one Miyako," Daisuke murmured, blowing the steam away from his drink. "Here's your tip." He extracted some fuzz from his pocket and deposited it on the table in front of Miyako.

"So," Their server nudged Takeru over and squeezed into the booth, ignoring both the pocket lint and the grunt from Takeru. "What brings you guys into this hellhole? Come to join me in my misery?"

Iori surveyed the area. Quaint little booths and tables were scattered sparsely throughout the small café that had the pleasure of employing Miyako Inoue. The counter offered a few stools, perfect for a solitary piece of cheesecake, or a shared milkshake between a starry-eyed boys and girls. Anyone "hungry enough to eat a horse", as they say, would not find much solace in the menu, but young adults, in their ongoing quest for ice-cream, sandwiches and caffeine, found that it satisfactorily suited their needs. "Hellhole? Miyako, I hate to break it to you, but this isn't exactly the dumpster in the back of an alley."

"Well, it's no Panera," Takeru pointed out.

The rest of the table, even Daisuke, shuddered at the mention of the new phenomenon that had been so graciously sent over from America.

"So when do you get off?" asked Hikari, taking a bite of her banana walnut muffin. "We were all thinking about going to a ballroom dancing class."

"What do you mean we were all thinking?" Daisuke drained the last of his hot chocolate with a contented sigh. "You were thinking!"

"Oh Dai! That would be so cute!" Miyako sang, clasping her hands together. "I can just picture it. Takeru and Hikari dancing so elegantly. Beautiful music. You tripping over your partner's feet…"

The prediction was probably accurate, but in Daisuke's opinion, it didn't need to be stated. "Oh thanks. And with Hikari off with Takeru wowing the instructor with their sudden display of hidden talent, just who do you propose I dance with?"

Miyako chuckled and nipped a bit of muffin off of Hikari's plate. "You can dance with Ken."

"I hardly think I'd make a very good dance partner," Ken laughed. In his exchange with Miyako, he failed to turn his head in time to see a faint blush appear and disappear on Daisuke's cheeks.

Feeling the need to come up with a counter-attack to Miyako's meaningless comment, Daisuke grumbled and focused on a spot on the far wall that allowed him to avoid eye contact with everyone. "Shut up, Miyako."

She continued to shovel the remnants of various desserts into her mouth and gave Daisuke a playful smile. "Okay, so maybe your dancing wouldn't be that bad, but still. Ken better wear shin guards."

Throwing his napkin down on the table a little too angrily to be offended by her jabs at his coordination, Daisuke folded his arms and muttered something in a low growl. Ken glanced at his friend with a look of mild confusion and Iori shifted uncomfortably in his confined prison between Ken and the wall, sensing that feelings unseen were unintentionally surfacing at the wrong time.

"Geez! What's with you?" Miyako asked defensively. "PMS?" She directed her attention back to Hikari. "Sorry, I promised I'd cover Jun's late shift tonight. She said she had something extremely important to do."

Daisuke, recovering from whatever it was that had interrupted the flow of his good nature, made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and narrowed his eyebrows at his sister, who was pocketing her tip at a nearby table. "She doesn't have anything important to do! She's just going over to the Kidos' house for dinner!"

"Hmm?" asked Iori. "Why is she going to Jyou's house?"

"Oh, she's always fawning over his brother."

Takeru raised his eyebrows and watched Jun bring the bill up to the cash register. "Which one?"

"Huh? There are two?" Daisuke shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. The cutest one, I guess."

"They're both cute…" breathed Miyako dreamily.

"HEY! MIYAKO!!" came a voice from the counter. "GET BACK TO WORK!"

"Oh why don't you!" she shot back. "That's just my boss." She waved a hand dismissively in his general direction. "He's harmless. And usually not even here."

"And I don't think he should complain," Ken chuckled. "Seeing as we're his only business right now." He was right. Jun's last table had just left, allowing the girl to take a small rest with her head down on the counter.

Miyako scooted out of the booth and brushed muffin crumbs off her uniform. "I probably have to go wash dishes or something." She ripped off their bill from a pad of paper and held out her hand. "Tip?" she asked sweetly.

"Come on, Dai," said Ken, nudging his friend over with a little gentle shoulder-to-shoulder contact. "Get out. I'm getting claustrophobic in this thing."

Daisuke jumped out of the vinyl upholstery and pretended to go into an extensive study of which two of his six quarters would make the best tip for their waitress.

~Tuesday. 6:28 pm.~

"Hey, I specifically asked for no mustard!"

Miyako sighed and took the plate back in her arms. "I'm sorry," she purred. "I'll go fix that right now!" As she made her way towards the small kitchen, the hissed whisper of "incompetent waitress" followed her in.

The café was so small that it didn't require any real cooks. The "kitchen" was just a room where backup supplies of food were kept, and required a waitress to periodically pop a fresh batch of cookie dough into the oven.

"What's wrong?" Jun tottered over, balancing three trays worth of banana splits within the confines of her two arms.

"Oh, some jerk thinks he's going to die if he tastes a little mustard." Shoving the plate off to the side, she grabbed a loaf of bread and slapped some new condiments on it, making sure to leave off the mustard. "Jerk. What does he want, they're freaking premade sandwiches." She went back out with a fresh club sandwich and a fresh plastered-on smile. "Here you are. I'm sorry you had to wait."

The man grumbled something that did not remotely resemble any sort of thanks and dove into the snack that he had been so cruelly dreprived of for a whole thrity seconds.

"Stupid fucker…" she muttered as she turned away.

"Who me?" a familiar voice asked brightly. The familiar glint of goggles caught her eye as she looked up.

"Huh? Oh, Daisuke. Yeah," she grinned and motioned with a tilt of her head. "I was just telling that guy over there what I think of you."

"Well I hope he had some nice things to say." The boy scanned the area quickly. "Where's Jun?"

"Right here, little brother," came a cheery voice glazed over with fatigue. "What are you doing here?"

Daisuke brought his hand up to his chin and struck a pose indicative of thought. "Oh yeah. Mom wants to know if you'll be home for dinner."

His sister fluffed her spiky mass of hair with one hand and stared off into the distance. "I'm going on a picnic with Shuu," she informed him.

Daisuke scratched his head. "Shuu offered to take you on a picnic?"

Shifting her eyes from side to side, Jun straightened and replied confidently, "No. I offered to take him. This is the 21st century," she added. "Who says the guy has to do the offering?"

Daisuke rolled his eyes. "I'll tell mom no then."

"Ohh!" Jun squealed. " It's 6:30! I'm off!"

"Lucky," grumbled Miyako. With two more hours of her shift left, her present outlook on life was clouded by the damp smell of dishrags and the now deadly aroma of anything faintly reeking of coffee.

"I guess I'll be going home. Seeya later, Miyako"

"Oh wait!" She clutched his arm and dumped him in a table for two. "Please, Daisuke. Keep me company!"

He thought about this for a moment. There was an unfinished RPG waiting for him at home that he had been so rudely disjointed from when his mother sent him to fetch Jun.

But at the moment, he felt there was neither gain nor loss in distracting Miyako for awhile.

"Only if you bring me some free food," he decided, leaning back in his chair smugly.

Miyako raised an eyebrow and asked slowly, "You like mustard?"

"Sure." He watched her scurry back to the kitchen. "I hope she's not bringing me a bottle of mustard," he mumbled to himself.

A Coke and a plate with an innocent-looking sandwich soon appeared in front of him. Daisuke inspected it for a moment and eyed Miyako suspiciously. Finally deciding that it surpassed the low standards of the Should-I-Eat-This Test, Daisuke shrugged and took a bite.

"So how was ballroom dancing?" Miyako asked, stifling a giggle and plopping down in the seat across from him.

"Ah, we didn't end up going." Daisuke swallowed a bite in reminiscence. "Iori started getting all self conscious about his height, and then Takeru told him that he would be his partner if that would help, and then Hikari got mad that Takeru wanted to dance with Iori instead of her, and then Iori decided that he didn't want to go at all…"

Miyako stole a sip of Daisuke's Coke and raised her eyebrows accusingly. "And you took no part in this argument?"

"Nah," he said. "You know me. I'm an easy going guy."

Miyako snorted. "You sure weren't yesterday! Hey, what was wrong with you anyway?"

Daisuke began to fiddle with the crusts of his sandwich and made a small motion with his shoulders. "Nothing."

She may not have the most perceptive Digidestined, or the one who people went to with their problems, or even the one who heard gossip second-hand, but she did have a vague intuitive sense of when her friends had something on their mind. Specific details concerning the preoccupation were never quite apparent, but Miyako was at least able to detect their presence.

"It wasn't nothing. You got all freaked out all of a sudden."

"I did not."

"Yes you did. You turned weird when I suggested that you dance with Ken. Is something wrong between you two?" she asked, a veil of concern overshadowing her voice.

Daisuke sipped his Coke silently. "No."

"Come on, Daisuke. Tell me. You and Ken are my friends. What's up?"

"It's…nothing."

"Ugh!" Miyako grabbed Daisuke's wrists and slammed them on the table. "It's not nothing! Tell me!" Her grip loosened at the sight of his shocked face. "Please?"

Daisuke bit his lip and contemplated the situation. He continued to shake his head. "I…I can't tell you."

"So that's the way you're going to be, huh?" She released his arms from captivity and leaned in closer. "Can I guess what it is?" she asked slyly.

"Knock yourself out."

Miyako frowned. "Will you tell me if I guess right?"

"Maybe."

"All right." The girl crossed her legs under the table and folded her hands in front of her. "Is this about Ken?"

"Maybe."

"Did Ken do something to hurt you?"

"No."

"Did you do something to hurt Ken?"

"No! I would never-"

"Okay. So you guys are still friends." Miyako rummaged through the Daisuke files in her brain, searching for a clue as to the source of her friend's mystery. "Is Ken in any trouble?"

Daisuke smiled. "Ken? I don't think so."

Miyako cursed softly. "I can't figure out what the problem is." She drummed her fingers on the surface of the table and chuckled to herself. "Are you in love with him?" she moaned jokingly.

Daisuke gagged on his Coke and released the straw from his mouth. Blinking rapidly, he shifted his gaze away from his interrogator.

"Hmm?" Miyako examined his nervous expression. Detecting something deep within his averted eyes, she gasped and smiled. "Oh my god! You are in love with him!"

The assured tone of her accusation shot simultaneous waves of panic and relief through Daisuke's body. Each frequency ended its course in some crevice of his brain, yelling at him to respond. "I didn't say-"

Too thrilled with her discovery, Miyako ignored his half-hearted protest anyway and squirmed in her seat. "You like Ken! Admit it!"

Daisuke looked horrified as her voice carried beyond the circumference of their table. "Shhh!" He grabbed her arm and looked pleadingly into her eyes. "Shut up, will ya?"

"That's so cute!" she shook him off and continued with her performance, lowering her voice a notch for the sake of privacy.

"It's not cute."

"So you do like him!"

Miyako had him beat.

"Okay. Yes! I like Ken! Happy?"

Miyako nodded, giddy with the burden of a secret that only she and the holder have the privilege of knowing. "Why don't you tell him?"

Daisuke shook his head furiously. "NO!"

"Why not?"

He mopped up some stray Coke with his napkin and shrugged solemnly. "I'm not ready."

"Oh come on." Miyako threw her head back and groaned. "Ken probably feels the same way about you. Just tell him."

Normally a fairly easily-swayed person, especially when it came to the advice of his friends, Daisuke stood by his decision. "N…not yet."

Miyako stood up and prepared to resume her rounds. "Fine. Be that way." A hand brushed across his shoulder as she walked by. "Thanks for telling me, Daisuke."

Leaving eleven cents and some pocket lint on the table, Daisuke pursed his lips. "You're so nosy."

~Wednesday. 7:04 am.~

"Wake up, Yama!"

Yamato smacked the hand that was trying to shove a cup of coffee in his face. "Mmm," he grumbled. "Knock it off, Taichi. It's too early."

Miyako refilled Taichi's mug and pulled a pen out from behind her ear. "So, what'll it be?" she asked in a mock drawl.

Taking a peek at the dessert list and deliberating for far too long a time, Taichi finally pointed to a cinnamon roll. He kicked Yamato under the table. "What do you want?"

Yamato looked up groggily and rubbed at his eyes. "Sleep."

"We'll just share a cinnamon roll," Taichi sighed.

Once Miyako disappeared into the back, the brunette reached into his glass of water and carefully extracted an ice cube. Grinning with an air of mischief, he leaned over the table, pulled his companions shirt off his back, and slid the melting cube under the fabric.

"AAHHH!" Yamato writhed in his chair, desperately tugging the bottom of his shirt from out of his pants in an attempt to spare himself from the torture of the cold river that was trickling down his back. "TAICHI!" he screamed as the remainder of the ice cube slid across the floor, leaving a watery channel behind it.

"Awake now?" the other asked, affectionately running his hand through Yamato's hair.

"Hmm." Yamato glared at him but couldn't keep up the farce for very long. Yawning and taking a sip of coffee, he removed the hand from his hair and intertwined the fingers with his own. "I still don't see why we needed to get up this early."

Taichi leaned over and brushed a kiss across his boyfriend's pouting lips. "Because…" he murmured as Yamato nipped at him. "…I don't remember."

"I need my beauty sleep, you know," complained Yamato, haughtily leaning back in his chair.

Taichi giggled softly. "And we didn't get much sleep last night anyway."

"Well, now I'm doubly tired." A sly grin crept onto Yamato's lips.

"You should be," Taichi informed him. "Especially with the way we fu-"

"AHEM!!" Miyako cleared her throat in the loudest way possible. "Here is your cinnamon roll." Slight embarrassment seeped into her voice. "And I would appreciate it if you would keep the conversation steered away from topics that might offend some people."

Taichi looked around. "We're the only ones here."

"For the sake of the waitress then."

"Oh please," Yamato grinned. "Like you wouldn't kill for the chance to watch."

"………" Miyako snorted. "So tell me, what brings you boys into the light of day at this ungodly hour of 7:00 am?" A smirk tugged lightly at one corner of her mouth. "Early Bird Fuku Sale?"

"Ha ha," muttered Yamato.

Taichi started to toy with the blonde's hair again. "That was last week, Miyako."

Yamato shot him a look and turned back to Miyako. "If you must know, Taichi signed us up for a day of romantic horseback riding."

"Aww, that's sweet."

"Yeah," Yamato agreed. "But it would have been a lot more romantic if we set out at, oh, say noon."

Taichi wiped some frosting off of Yamato's lip with his finger and brought it to his mouth. "Don't you want to ride with me through the morning mist, Yama?"

"Have you been memorizing the soap ads again?" Yamato shook his head in mock disgust.

"Wow," sighed Miyako. "You guys are so open. Weren't you ever…well, apprehensive about your relationship?"

Taichi gave her a "get real" sort of look. "We've been dating since before you were digidestined. We knew from the start that we were meant to be." His boyfriend was dramatically pulled in for another kiss.

Yamato pushed Taichi away and groaned. "Tai, you were a Grade A jackass when we were ten."

"As you can see," Taichi whispered to Miyako. "I had to do the asking."

She gazed at them dreamily. "I wish certain other people were that confident with their love."

Much like Miyako, Taichi was never the listener of problems or the solver of problems; the creator of problems was a different story. However, sitting at a small table with his lover and his waitress, he could feel a cool wisp of power float his way. "Problems in the love department, Miyako?"

"Oh, it's not me. It's Daisuke," she grumbled.

"Hmm?" Yamato looked up from his coffee. "You like Daisuke?"

Miyako looked sickened. "No!" She shook her head. "I mean Daisuke's the one with love problems."

"Oh yeah?" Taichi was suddenly very interested. Daisuke looked up to him after all. Perhaps he could use his supreme influence to help. "What's the problem?"

"Well," Miyako hesitated. "Daisuke likes someone, but he doesn't have the guts to tell him. Or her," she added quickly to cover her slip.

"Wait a second…" Yamato squinted his eyes at her. "Doesn't have the guts to tell him?"

Taichi looked lost. "I thought we were talking about Daisuke?"

Miyako and Yamato both turned to stare at him. There was still an aura of vague confusion surrounding the elder Yagami.

Yamato looked him in the eye and spelled it out. "She's saying that…Daisuke. Is. Gay."

Silence reigned for a brief moment until Taichi's realization came to pass. "Ohh…"

"Now you get it."

"Wait. Daisuke's gay?"

The other two let out twin sighs of exasperation.

"So," Yamato continued, probing for more details on the latest news flash. "Who's the lucky guy?"

"Huh? Well…" Miyako hesitated, unsure if she should divulge the identity of Daisuke's crush. A brief internal debate ensued in which her longing to help fused with her "gossipiness" came out victorious. "He likes Ken."

"Oh man," exclaimed Taichi, finally feeling the need to become an active member of the conversation. "Who wouldn't?! He's got the tightest little butt I've ever se…ah, heh heh." A vicious glare from Yamato left his sentence unfinished. "But, uh, anyway, why doesn't Daisuke tell him?"

"Oh, I don't know," Miyako rested her chin on her fists and pondered the question. It didn't make any sense to her. When she liked a boy, she made no show of hiding it. And she always thought Daisuke was the same way. He shamelessly drooled over Hikari for practically a year and made not the slightest effort to conceal it. Why was the status of Daisuke's heart suddenly so confidential? "He's scared, I guess."

Taichi nodded knowingly. "I'll talk to him." He leaned back contentedly with the knowledge that he was going to be giving advice.

Having a slightly different reaction, Yamato contorted his face into and odd-looking frown and raised his finger to object, but Miyako didn't give him the chance.

"Really, Taichi?" She went over the plan in her mind and came to the conclusion that the results would be positive. "Yeah, he would listen to you."

Yamato simply sighed and shook his head.

"See," Miyako said. "I bet Ken likes him anyway. He just needs a little…you know…a little push."

Not since the days when the seven Chosen had followed him (at least for the most part) had Taichi felt so needed. The fact that it was love advice didn't rattle his confidence one bit. After all, he was in the single longest lasting relationship out of all the Digidestined.

Though when you factor in that there wasn't much competition…

"Don't worry, Miyako." He gave her a Taichi Nod of Approval. "Well, Yama. Shall we go then?" He pushed himself out of his chair and offered a hand to the blonde. "I wonder if they'll lend you some jodhpurs. Rowr, sexy! Or maybe we'll just get one horse. I can be your Knight in Shining Armor and I'll whisk you away into the depths of the forest." Taichi eagerly trotted out the door without even waiting for his "princess".

Miyako tore the top sheet off her pad of paper and handed it to Yamato. "Tell your Knight in Shining Armor that he forgot to pay the bill."

~Thursday. 12:50 pm.~

"…so anyway, Tentomon said that Lilymon looked pretty damn h-"

"Koushirou!!"

"Uh! Oh, hi Miyako." Koushirou nervously leaned back in the booth and put an abrupt end to his conversation with Jyou.

Ever the polite one, Jyou smiled pleasantly and nodded at the girl. "Miyako."

"Hi, Jyou." She acknowledged the well-mannered med student and turned her attention back to one of her many past and occasionally present love interests. "So Koushirou, can I bring you anything? Sandwich? Sundae? Root beer float?" She stood with her pen poised, ready to make Koushirou's wish her command.

"Um, do you have any orange soda?"

Miyako nodded furiously. "All right. One orange soda. And for you, Jyou?"

"I'll just have a wa…" Miyako stood with her hands on her hips while Koushirou chuckled quietly to himself. "Uh…actually…bring me an orange soda too." He smiled uneasily.

"Now you're talking." She bowed her head and turned around. "Be right back."

"I've never had an orange soda," said Jyou shakily.

"It's good to be daring." Leaning over towards Jyou, Koushirou licked his lips and began again. "So like I was saying…"

"Here you go!" Miyako set two glasses of translucent orange fizz on the table and plopped herself down next to Koushirou.

The redhead stared at her in astonishment. "That was fast."

"I can be fast when I want to be." She smiled. "So, why are you-"

"Hey!" Jyou interrupted excitedly. "This stuff's pretty good!" He attacked his straw thirstily and sucked up three quarters of the drink in one breath.

Miyako paused. "I'm…glad. So, uh…" The spectacle of Jyou's revelation distracted her for a moment. Jyou was always reliable for some form of amusement in one way or another. "What are you guys up to?"

"Well," Koushirou said quietly but firmly. "We sort of came here to get away from Jun."

Miyako wondered why they would seek refuge in the spot where their object of avoidance would most likely be. Surely a genius like Koushirou would have more common sense than that. "Well, lucky for you she took the afternoon off. Don't you know that she works here?"

"Yes we do." Koushirou narrowed his eyebrows. "And we are well aware of the fact that she took the afternoon off."

Slurping up the last of his orange soda, Jyou sighed and started to tear off the corners of his napkin. "She's been at my apartment all morning." His face suddenly brightened and he slid his glass down to Miyako. "Hey, can I have another one of these "orange sodas"? They're good."

"Oh, sure." She grunted, pushing herself out of the booth and temporarily disappearing behind the counter. "Another soda for Jyou."

Jyou seized the glass greedily and took a gulp. "Um…" he chuckled when he noticed that his friends were gaping at his table manners, or lack thereof. "Anyway, Koushirou and I were over at my apartment hack- I mean, playing computer games, heh heh, when all of a sudden Jun busts down the door (don't ask me how she got in), looking for Shuu."

The three Kido brothers were far too old to be living with their parents, but they did decide to rent an apartment together. The deal was much to Jyou's benefit. Shin wasn't there for months on end due to his training in Africa, and Shuu spent so much time researching in Kyoto that the hotel beds were put to more use than his own.

A tremor passed through Koushirou's body at the thought of whatever it was that Jun was putting Shuu through. "I believe she brought a year's supply of foreign romance films with her."

There was no comment from Jyou, as he was sucking up the lost drops of his soda. He glanced at Miyako with big puppy-dog eyes and then back at his empty glass.

"More soda, Jyou?" she asked dryly. He nodded.

Coming back for the third time, she set a whole pitcher in front of him and sat back down. "Enjoy."

In her younger days, Miyako had never really been friends with Jun Motomiya, and she still couldn't rightfully claim to know her all that well. But Miyako was one of Daisuke's best friends and her older sister was one of Jun's best friends, so it seemed only natural that she and Jun would hit it off to some extent. The assumption was correct. Jun was much like Miyako, if not more so, at least as far as boys were concerned. Both were very interested in the opposite sex, but lacked the ability to find that particular special someone.

Miyako often rolled her eyes at Jun's constant absences from work, because they almost always involved one man or another. But then, who was she to criticize?

She had always thought that resemblance between Daisuke and his sister in both looks and personality was so close it was funny. However, it didn't seem that way anymore.

"So Jyou…DID YOU FINISH THAT WHOLE PITCHER?!?"

Koushirou's eyes widened at Jyou and his never-ending thirst for this new, bubbly addiction of his. "Miyako, there isn't any alcohol in that stuff, is there?" he asked with genuine concern.

"No!" she laughed. "Jyou, you're going to be in the bathroom for an hour and a half!"

His face lost it's sheen of enjoyment and he rose from the booth. "Uh, yeah…speaking of that, is there a bathroom in here?"

Miyako quickly pointed off to the right.

"Thanks." Jyou blushed lightly and ran off to use the facilities.

Miyako inched closer to Koushirou and turned towards him. "Well," she said coyly. "Looks like it's just you and me."

Koushirou sighed.

~Thursday. 8:34 pm.~

"I'll be out in a minute, little brother!" Jun scrubbed furiously at a plate wither her soapy rag, eager to get home. The prospect of a nice, soothing bubble bath had been plaguing her for the last 45 minutes; despite the presence of warm water and bubbles, doing the dishes was not satisfying her need.

Jun Motomiya was 22 years old, did not have her own car, and still lived with her parents. Such qualities might have been looked down upon had she been a male on a video dating service, but in all honesty, her status bothered no one, except occasionally Daisuke when he desperately needed to get into the bathroom.

Daisuke, being the Child of Friendship after all, often picked her up from work if he happened to be around, which he often was.

"Hey, Daisuke." Miyako leaned against the counter, Thursday's not being the most "happening" night of the week. "So, anything happen-"

He stared at her harshly, daring her to finish her thought, but not really wanting her to.

"Er, so what kind of fun have I been missing with you guys?" She decided that was a safer question.

"Eh, nothing much." Daisuke pulled a toothpick out of a dispenser and began to pick absently at his teeth. "Yesterday we all went to play badminton. Ken and I creamed Takeru and Iori," he added proudly. "What was the score?" He pretended to be adding things up in his head. "42 to 6?"

"I don't think the score can go that high," she informed him.

Daisuke pretended to flick a piece of food at her. "Well, it was something like that."

"Uh huh."

"Let's see. This afternoon Taichi came over."

Miyako secretly brightened. So he and Taichi had a little talk. Yes. Everything was going to work out fine

"And Yamato wasn't with him," Daisuke continued. "It was really weird."

"So…" Taichi and Daisuke were at times a lethal combination. Apart, they were two completely different entities, wavelengths away from each other in the personality spectrum. Together, every aspect of their individuality synchronized, either adapting to Daisuke's or adapting to Taichi's. It was scary. But now Miyako was anxious to learn what went on during the meeting of the two who she normally would have paid to keep separated. "What did you guys do?"

"It was kind of strange," Daisuke said, pulling a stool up to the counter. "He came over to talk."

"Oh? And what did you two talk about?"

There was a bewildered look from Daisuke before he shook his head. "I don't know really. But I'm pretty sure he was quoting from some soap ads."

Miyako pushed her glasses up on her nose. "Uh, really?"

"Yeah, and he kept telling me stories about him and Yamato and how everything is perfect because they're in love." Daisuke shuddered. "And then he started to tell me things about him and Yamato that I really didn't want to hear-"

"And you have no idea why he was telling you all this stuff?" Miyako prompted.

"Well, it kind of sounded like he was trying to give me advice on…" He stopped, cocking his head and peering into the distance. "But there's no way he could have known that…unless…" He froze and spun around on the stool to directly face Miyako. Her head was down and she was picking at some stray paint on the counter. "Did you tell him?"

"Um, well…maybe…"

There was silence. Miyako didn't know if Daisuke was going to scream at her or thank her or what, all she knew was that it was very quiet. Neither awkward nor comforting. Just silence.

"You told Taichi?!"

Okay. It seemed to be leaning toward the former of her two predictions.

"…Yeah," Miyako said slowly.

"Why did you do that?!!"

"Well…I…I didn't know you didn't want me to tell anyone."

Daisuke's glare bore into her averted gaze with a look of betrayal and anger. "What, I had to instruct you not to tell anyone?! You probably went and told Ken too!"

Miyako denied the false accusation. "Of course I didn't! I wouldn't do that!"

"Well you told Taichi! And if he knows then Yamato knows!" Miyako looked up apologetically. "Doesn't he?"

"I was only trying to help…"

Daisuke hopped off the stool and craned his neck to see into the kitchen. "Hurry up, Jun!" He looked at Miyako. "Just leave it alone. Please."

His sister exited the kitchen and motioned for him to follow. "All right, let's go."

"I know what I'm doing, okay Miyako?"

The door slammed shut and the silhouettes of the Motomiya siblings could be seen passing by the front window.

"Do you?"

~Friday. 10:28 pm.~

"Dammit all. Why does Jun get so many nights off?" Miyako ran a wet cloth over the counter top and muttered to herself in the virtually empty café. The only occupants were two men sitting in the corner booth, apparently going over some papers together. "How many times can she possibly see Shuu Kido in one week?"

Miyako took a pen out from behind her ear and made her way over to the booth. "Can I get you…Shuu!"

It was, in fact, Shuu Kido who peered at her through his glasses and then looked over at his companion.

"Miyako?" the other man asked. "Well if it isn't Miyako Inoue!"

"Hello, Professor Takenouchi," she replied. The three of them had once spent an afternoon together in Kyoto under some very unusual circumstances. Nevertheless, she never forgot them, nor did she slip from their memories. Shuu was a student of Sora's father back then and it looked as though they hadn't broken up their partnership since.

"Shuu, I thought you were with Jun."

The man bit his lip and looked significantly at the professor. "She's with Shin, actually."

"Huh?" This didn't make any sense. Are brothers that interchangeable? "I thought she was…well…"

"Courting me?" he laughed.

"Well…yeah."

He shrugged. "I told her I was busy tonight so Shin offered to take her to a movie. She seemed to have no problem with it."

"Hmm," Miyako considered. "I guess one Kido's as good as another."

She noticed Shuu and Professor Takenouchi were beginning to laugh. "Oh geez! I didn't mean it like that! Huh, I guess that came out pretty rude. No offense," Miyako apologized quickly.

"Don't worry. None taken," Shuu assured her. "Anyway, I know what you mean. About Jun and all."

Professor Takenouchi suddenly looked up from his menu. "Do you have any of those giant ice-cream sundaes?"

"Yes we do."

He held out two fingers. "One sundae. Two spoons."

Miyako nodded. "Coming right up."

As she carried the bowl over to their booth, three more customers entered, talking all at once.

"Miyako!" Takeru was waving at her with Hikari and Iori in tow.

"Here's your giant ice-cream sundae," she told Professor Takenouchi, placing it in the middle of the table.

"Much obliged." He and Shuu started to dig in, both eyeing the single cherry on top with lustful desire.

Takeru, Hikari and Iori were sitting at a table with four chairs, knowing that Miyako would inevitably join them. Hikari and Takeru were arguing about one thing or another, Iori just looked tired.

Miyako was used to such behavior.

"So." She fell back in the empty chair. "Where did you three just come from?"

Hikari groaned. "Takeru dragged us to some lousy American import film."

"It was absolutely terrible," Iori added with a repulsed vengeance for whoever had had the nerve to create such a motion picture disaster. "What was it called again?"

" 'Waterworld'."

Takeru adjusted his hat clumsily. "Well, I liked it."

The table, minus Miyako, who had been spared the torture, turned to stare at him. "Even Daisuke hated it," Hikari reported. The ultimate insult.

Finally noticing that Daisuke was not there to add to the bashing, Miyako asked, "Hey, where is Daisuke?"

"He said he wasn't feeling well and went home," said Takeru. "Hey, can we get some food now?"

Hikari ignored him and spoke to Miyako. "Ken was with us but after Daisuke left, he said he had to go home too." Hikari never really had too profound a grasp on the psyche of another human being, but even she could see past the thin cover that Ken sometimes liked to hide under. "His story sounded a little off to me."

A thoughtful pause took hold of the conversation until Iori added his two cents for the night. "You know, Daisuke was acting really strange today."

Daisuke's definition of "strange" was a very unclear one. The boy was almost always a bit unusual in one way or another. But Miyako figured that wasn't what Iori was talking about. "What do you mean?"

"I noticed that too," added Takeru. "He was being unusually quiet. And then he stared acting really weird when I suggested that we buy a tub of popcorn for me, Hikari and Iori and another one for him and Ken," Takeru muttered in confusion. "He was just in a really strange mood."

"Tell me about it," said Iori. "I was on one side of him and Ken was on the other and the whole time he kept inching closer and closer to my side. By the end of the movie, he had kicked me off of the armrest and was practically in my seat."

Normally Miyako would have jumped at the chance to make some childish jab at Daisuke's maybe-not-so-casual interest in Iori, but for obvious reasons, she didn't. "Hmm," she sighed. "Well, like he said, maybe he just wasn't feeling well," she offered weakly.

"I don't know." Hikari shook her head. "Whatever it was, it was creeping us out. Especially Ken."

"Yeah," Takeru agreed. "He almost looked hurt when he left."

Miyako was not one for theories. That was Koushirou's department. But she couldn't, for the life of her, deny that she was positively sure what Daisuke's "problem" was. No one in a similar spot would have been able to either.

Hikari picked up her menu and smiled. "Whatever's wrong, Daisuke will be able to fix it himself."

Miyako looked at Hikari and bit her lip. "All right," she chirped, popping out of her chair. "What do you guys want?"

~Saturday. 1:06 pm.~

"Hey, Koushirou," Miyako whispered in a sultry impersonation of a soap opera star.

The young man did not look up at her but proceeded to direct all his attention towards his lunch date: the Pineapple laptop that he had stood by through Digital World data and science reports, repairs and upgrades; in short, thick and thin.

Talk about true love.

"Do want anything to eat or are you just going to sit there and look at your hentai sites all afternoon?"

Koushirou halted the metered clicking of his mouse and gave her a wry smile. "I am not looking at hentai sites, Miyako."

"Yeah, okay, whatever." She threw her hands up defensively. "It's none of my business anyway."

He shook his head. "I'll just have a bran muffin."

"Bran muffin," she muttered. "Typical." Some scribbling of pen on paper ensued followed by a muted snort. "Don't go asking for any orange soda though. We're still at a deficit from the last time Jyou was here." Miyako grinned. "I'll be back."

Taking a muffin from out of the pastry case, she almost backed into Jun as she was turning around. "Oh, sorry!"

Jun smiled. "That's okay. Say," she lowered her voice and subtly pointed in the direction of the door. "Isn't that Ken Ichijouji who just walked in?"

"Huh?" Miyako turned and confirmed Jun's thought with a nod.

It was, in fact, Ken who was settling into a booth by himself. He was dressed in his soccer uniform and carried a scruffy looking ball under one arm. All looked seemingly normal, except that when he turned to briefly face Miyako, she detected a great deal of sadness manifested in his lowered eyes.

"Hey, Jun," she said, handing over Koushirou's bran muffin. "Can you bring this to Koushirou? I want to go talk to Ken for a second."

Jun nodded, not bothering to ask what it was about.

Ken sat with his elbows on the table, the palms of his hands supporting either side of his jawbone. He didn't noticing Miyako was approaching him until she slipped into the opposite side of the booth.

"Hey, Ken."

He looked up at her and offered half a smile. "Hey, Miyako."

His deep blue eyes had a rather pinkish overtone, as if he'd been punched in the face, or crying. "I hope you don't mind if I loiter here. I'm not really hungry."

"Hey, it's fine by me." She tilted her head in concern and asked softly, "What's wrong?"

Ken didn't answer and began to trace his finger along some unseen spiral in the table top.

Okay, maybe a different angle would work. "Why the soccer getup?"

"Well," he sighed. "Daisuke called me up this morning and asked if I wanted to go play some soccer. Of course I agreed, especially since Daisuke's been a little…off lately. So we made plans. You know, where to meet and stuff like that."

Miyako nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"And then he said he had to talk to me about something too. He wouldn't tell me anything about it so I figured that it could wait until we saw each other. So I went to the park at 11:30 like he said and waited."

She waited for him to go on. "And?"

Ken looked down at the table. "He never showed up."

"That's not like Daisuke at all."

"I know!" He ran a hand through his fine blue hair and slumped over onto the table. "At first I thought he got lost or something. You know Daisuke. And then I started to get mad. Like maybe he got sidetracked on the way and forgot that he had somewhere to be. But then…" He shook his head sadly. "It just came down to the fact that I got stood up."

"Oh, Ken…" Miyako smiled reassuringly. "Daisuke hasn't…been himself lately. I'm sure there was a good reason for him not to show up."

"You think?" Ken tried to look hopeful. "I don't know. I feel like…like he's mad at me or something. And I can't even figure out what I did wrong! He won't talk to me like he used to, he won't even walk next to me!…What did I do?"

Daisuke baffled her in so many ways. How could he treat his friend like that? A friend that he supposedly loved? He had been a true friend to all of them for the last five years. And now he wasn't just tearing Ken's heart out, he was tearing out Miyako's.

"Daisuke's my best friend. He always has been. I've been able to count on him since, well, you know." Ken left the thought open for interpretation, though it didn't take a Koushirou to detect the Kaizer thing as the underlying message. "If he doesn't want to be around me anymore…I…I…I don't know…I just can't figure it out. Did I do something to hurt him? Maybe he found out that I li-"

Ken stopped abruptly and blushed.

"Uh, hey, Ken," said Miyako, pretending to miss that last part. "Hang in there. Daisuke will come around, I know he will. Give him some time."

Jun, who had been standing nearby taking orders for who knows how long, flipped to a new sheet on her pad and stood with her pen poised. "Is that brother of mine being a jackass? Don't worry about it," she smiled. "Now. What can I get you two?"

~Sunday. 12:02 am.~

"We're closed!" Miyako yelled at the darkened figure who was banging on the window plate. "Oh, Daisuke!" she exclaimed, recognizing the spiky hair. She went around to the door and unlocked it.

Daisuke strolled in casually, as if he just happened to be in the neighborhood and decided to pop on by during the wee hours of the morning.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him suspiciously.

"I came to pick up Jun."

His sister, once again performing her favorite task of dishwashing, poked her head out of the kitchen and stared at Daisuke in shock. "You didn't have to come and get me. It's late. I could have taken the bus."

He shrugged. "It's okay. So tell me, how did both of you get stuck working the late shift?"

"Just lucky, I guess," Miyako replied dryly. "So." She pulled Daisuke over to a table and pushed him into a chair. "You just happened to be passing by at midnight?"

"I told you," he replied indignantly. "I came to pick up Jun."

"Really." Miyako raised her eyebrows. "Nothing on your mind?"

He looked at her, unblinking. He recalled Jun telling him once that people always blinked a lot when they were lying. He had laughed it off, but ever since he rather neurotically made a point of consciously keeping his eyes wide open. "No."

"Uh huh." Miyako examined her nails casually. "Ken was in here earlier, you know," she offered.

Daisuke blinked.

The smile on Miyako's lips disappeared and she stared into his soft, brown eyes. "What are you doing, Daisuke?"

The boy bit his lip and stared past Miyako at the wall. "It's none of your business." He loved the girl for her persistence but hated her for it at the same time. "Butt out, okay?"

Miyako stared hard into his eyes and forced him to return the gaze. "Ken was in here earlier and he was practically crying."

"He…he was?" Daisuke's eyebrows shifted into an arch of sadness as Miyako stared him down.

"What the hell are you doing, Daisuke? You say you like him and then you go and hurt him like that? What's wrong with you?!"

He looked down at his hands, studying the olive tone of his skin, examining the whiteness stretched over his knuckles as he tightened them into two fists of shame. "I was going to tell him." Regret began to coat his shaky voice. "I called him up and I was going to tell him right on the phone. But then I thought, that's tacky right?" He offered a weak smile that faded off when Miyako did not return it. "So then I was going to tell him in the park. I told him to meet me for some soccer…except I didn't go." He continued before Miyako had time to yell at him. "Please understand! I couldn't! I didn't have the guts to tell him."

And this boy was supposed to own the Digimental of Courage.

"I understand you're afraid of rejection, Daisuke, but you're hurting him! He thinks you hate him!"

"Miyako, it's more than rejection." Daisuke brought his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms around them with the fear of a little child. "Ken is my best friend. I don't mean one of my best friends like you're one of my best friends. I mean best friend. He was my first and my only one since. I didn't want to fall in love with Ken, but I did. But if that's going to scare him away, then it's not worth telling him. I'd rather live with my hidden feelings and still have him as my best friend than have him know and be alone."

Miyako thought this over. It didn't directly make sense to her because that wasn't the way she thought. She had never found a boy whom she had felt that strongly about. There was Michael and Wallace and even Ken at one point. Gennai and embarrassingly enough (though she vowed to personally beat up anyone who brought this particular crush up again) Shurimon.

No, Miyako had never, in her childhood or her few years of what she considered adulthood, found anyone that paralleled the bond between Ken and Daisuke. Her crushes had always been more on the Daisuke-Hikari level.

"You can't be scared, Daisuke. Besides," she added. "I think you give Ken less credit than he deserves."

"Daisuke." Jun was leaning in the doorway of the kitchen. "I know you probably have no desire to hear my opinion at all, me being your sister and all." She rolled her eyes. "But I'm going to give it to you anyway." She paused and scowled at him. "I would kill for what you have."

Miyako and Daisuke both froze in quasi-shock.

Jun's tone softened. "If I had a relationship like you and Ken…" She shook her head. "I have a good time with Shuu, and I'd like to think that he has a good time with me," she added hastily. "But come on. I just went out with Shin the other night!"

"I thought you had a good time," Daisuke mumbled.

"I did! But…he doesn't love me. And I don't love him. Or Shuu. We have fun, but it's not like what you have." She grinned at Daisuke. "Just because I ignore you every chance I get doesn't mean that I don't notice things."

Daisuke hugged his knees tighter and silently told his sister to go on.

"You have more potential in your friendship alone than I have ever had in any relationship. And I think I've been in enough to be a pretty accurate judge."

"But what if Ken doesn't feel the same way I do?" Daisuke asked sadly.

"Trust me, little brother. Miyako's right. You cheat Ken out of some credit. Besides, if it'll bring you that much happiness, it's worth taking the risk."

The boy released his knees and stared off into the distance. "I might regret it if I tell him…"

"I think you'll regret it even more if you don't."

Miyako simply stared at them both, watching from a distance as if she weren't even there, unable to intrude on the sacred moment between brother and sister.

Suddenly Daisuke's chair scratched across the floor and he got up. "Let's go. Come on Miyako," he said, walking towards the door. "I'll give you a ride home."

She looked around, drifting back into the present moment in a haze of sibling love. "Thanks! Uh, let me get my purse."

~Sunday. 7:56 pm.~

"I cannot believe I'm doing this," Daisuke grumbled as he tucked his shirt into his pants.

Miyako snickered at the sight of Daisuke in a uniform. "This just shows that you're a good brother."

"Oh, shut up," he muttered. "If Jun didn't miss work so much…"

On this particular night, Jun Motomiya's absence, for once, had nothing at all to do with boys or social gatherings. She was actually in bed with a mild case of the flu, and didn't feel it was in her capacity to wait tables. Her "easygoing" boss, however, had grown tired of her constant excursions and threatened to unemploy her if she missed work one more time.

And that's where her good little brother had entered the picture. He grudgingly offered to go into work for her, surrendering his own social outing with friends. He mood wasn't very negative though, as he predicted he'd probably be seeing them anyway.

"So, Daisuke…" Miyako began.

He turned sharply and shot her a threatening look. "Don't start, okay?"

Hands raised in front of her chest in defense, Miyako backed away and headed towards a table. "Fine. Fine. You know what you're doing," she said quietly.

Daisuke straightened his shirt and chewed at his lower lip. "Yeah."

As predicted, Hikari, Takeru, Ken and Iori entered a few moments later and sat down in a their usual booth. Daisuke inhaled, briefly thought about how stupid he must look, and made his way over to their table.

"Daisuke?" Takeru laughed in that obvious manner of his. "What are you doing?"

Their waiter stood up straight, purposely making eye contact with neither Takeru nor Ken, and clicked open his pen. "I'm taking your order."

Iori was not shy about being the first to speak up. "I'll have a bowl of chocolate ice-cream," he told Daisuke, as if he had been fantasizing about dessert for the last week and a half.

Hikari and Takeru glanced at each other and shrugged. "I'll have a milkshake," she said.

"Make that two."

Takeru could be such a-

"And for you?" he asked Ken coldly.

"Um…" Ken scanned the menu hesitantly and looked up with a grim smile. "Surprise me."

Daisuke blinked and regarded Ken's request. "Okay…"

He went behind the counter where all the ice-cream related products were kept and sloppily threw together two milkshakes. They looked picturesque enough, but he still thanked the gods that he wasn't going to be the one drinking them. Dishing out Iori's ice-cream, he deposited all three items on a tray and tried to professionally balance it one hand.

Eventually his better judgment set in and he quickly gripped both edges of the tray with both hands before catastrophe struck.

"Milkshake. Milkshake. Ice-cream." Daisuke methodically plunked them down on the table before each recipient and turned to Ken.

Surprise me indeed.

"Ken," Daisuke mumbled, a little embarrassed. "I kind of had a little accident with your dessert."

"Huh? Accident?" At least Daisuke was starting to act like himself again.

"Yeah, I, uh, kind of dropped it." Daisuke suddenly grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the booth. "Why don't you come with me to the kitchen. I'll let you pick out any dessert you want. It'll be on the house."

Well now Ken was really confused. First Daisuke was being totally cold and unresponsive, and now he was being almost pushy.

His suddenly bipolar tendencies were confusing the hell out of everyone.

"No, it's okay, Daisuke. I'll…I'll just have a bowl of ice cream. It's okay, really." But Daisuke wouldn't have it. He hustled Ken off to the kitchen, leaving Hikari and Iori sitting with their mouths open in confusion, and Takeru with his mouth open chugging his milkshake.

At this point Miyako was returning from another order and happened to notice that a member of the table and half the service at the café had disappeared. "Where did Ken and Daisuke go?"

Hikari still looked puzzled, while Takeru sat next to her and noisily slurped his coveted dessert. "They went into the kitchen."

Iori could offer no additional help and merely shrugged.

Certain things run through a boy's mind when put in a situation such as this. Depending on his nature, he will either have no interest, positive or negative, in the going ons behind the kitchen wall, not necessarily because he doesn't want to think about it, but merely because he is ignorant of the facts, and therefore of the possible scenarios; or he will express a mild interest, oblivious to the situation or not, because he is simply curious. There are the few who would run over to see what's brewing, but no one of that description happened to be sitting at that particular booth.

Girls, on the other hand, are far more eager to at least know what's going on. Their thought process works in such a manner that scenarios need not be suggested, for they are already programmed into their brains. The specific thought that surfaces depends entirely on the girl, and entirely on her competence in regards to the situation.

But even Miyako, despite being of the female gender, and despite knowing what she knew, did not predict what she saw before her in the small kitchen of her temporary profession.

Perhaps another breed of girl, the fangirl type possibly, could have.

The counter was supporting half of Ken's body weight, one of his legs dangling off the side, the other rooted to the floor. Between them, was Daisuke, pressed up against Ken's thin frame, one hand tangled in the silky blue strands of his hair, the other out of sight…somewhere down below.

Ken was hugging Daisuke against his body, practically helping the boy climb up onto the counter with him. And, of course, they were kissing.

Not kiss your mother on the cheek kissing.

Not spin the bottle kissing.

Not even slutty teenage girl in the backseat of a car kissing.

This kiss was one of immeasurable devotion. The lips that were bruising each other, the tongues that were exploring so deeply, held far more meaning than just the obvious one of sexual pleasure.

This was a kiss between two soulmates who will be in love with each other forever.

Of course, to Miyako, it was just a kiss that seemed to involve a lot of tongue and a lot of fondling, and it happened to be going on in the middle of a kitchen counter. But she did suspect that it meant a lot to both boys.

Miyako considered leaving them there, but she didn't want to explain to the others why I was taking Ken so long to pick out his dessert, and (though she preferred not to think about this too much) she didn't want to be confronted by any "mess" that they might care to leave.

And more importantly, Daisuke's shift wasn't over.

"Hey, Motomiya!" she called.

Daisuke unlocked his lips from Ken's, the other boy looking up in aroused panic. "Hmmm?" he breathed and glared playfully at Miyako.

She grinned and shook her head. "Get back to work."

~Fin~