Aw, crap.

Daisuke woke up, another day, another day full of disappointment, another day full of loneliness, abandonment, and self-despair. Daisuke smelt like shit, with good reason. As much as he wanted to fall back into his happy place, he groggily got out of bed, and trudged into the shower, cursing his parents, his dad, his life. He undressed, and relaxed little as the warm water rushed over him.

He finished washing his brown hair, and stepped out, drying off quickly so that he might be a little early for school that day. He checked the clocked, gulping that it was already eight. The stupid people had “forgotten” to wake him. With school in less than an hour, he would have to hurry. As he put on his clean clothes, he sighed, realizing that he’d forgotten to take his medication. With a groan, he popped the pill in his mouth, and drank it down, grimacing at the taste.

By the time he was all dressed and out eating breakfast, it was already 8:15. His family had already left, and he felt sometimes that they made excuses not to see him. Sometimes he would think about things that would scare him normally, and that morning was one of those times.

(Daisuke’s POV)

Stupid family. I wish each and every one of them would just curl up and die.

Ever since V-mon had left him, he’d been lonely. Without a constant lovable irritation like a best friend, he’d begun to realize how sad his life really was. True, Takeru had been his best friend, but then one day… But Daisuke shut the thought out of his head.

That’s right, dad. Close your eyes…

He pictured taking his family and lining them up against the wall. A glazed, almost psychotic expression fell upon his face. But he shook his head, knowing they cared for him, clutching to the very faint hope that, deep down, his family cared. He looked back to the bathroom, where his pills were in plain sight, as if trying to remind him of their hold.

Stupid medication. Barely helps.

Taking the anti-depressants was supposed to help, but for some reason, he felt no better. He finished his cereal, and packed up his bag. It was already 8:30. He hoped that Miyako wasn’t already there, being the bookworm that she was. He knew, however, that such hopes, like many of his, were no good.

He grabbed his head in frustration. Did no one care about him? He walked out the door, and headed for another day of school. By the time he was within sight of the high school, it was already 8:45. The school was already buzzing with people crowding from the buses, just departed. He pushed his way through the crowd, looking this way and that, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but no. He was probably too late. Miyako would be either in her first class already, or talking with Hikari and Takeru, reminiscing about the good old days.

Humph. Some good old days, he though to himself, wondering if he’d indeed taken his meds. Had he forgotten so quickly? Hard to tell. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, but he could tell it was getting crowded, much like the hallways he was soon struggling to push through. Eventually one would resurface, and with it would come all the others, forming a dark, spinning spiral of which he was always drawn to.

He sighed again, for the millionth time that day, as he stumbled into Math: his least favorite subject, as well as his worst. Pi, irrational numbers, square roots, it all confused him in the end. He knew that if he were told to visualize another problem, he’d go insane. Not that that wasn’t all together impossible anyways. He sat down as the bell for first period sounded, just on time. Mr. Fujikawa stood up, and walked to the blackboard.

“Welcome, students,” the teacher droned on in his customary greeting for the class. “Today, we’ll be learning rational equations.”

He paused, and glanced in the direction of Daisuke. “Or at least, some of us will.”

Snickers, the majority from a certain blonde in the front row. Daisuke wrenched his eyes shut and tried to concentrate on the lesson at hand. He saw it as a waste of time, as he didn’t often plan on living long enough to make it to university; even if he did, he’d fail miserably anyways. But still he tried.

“Quiet down, class.” And on the lesson went, Daisuke desperately trying to copy down the notes and memorize the steps for solving…  whatever these are.

He watched in envy as Takeru wrote down the expressions and solved a problem on the board with ease, and Daisuke fought the urge to throw a pencil at the blonde.

Look at him, always wearing the same white hat, always making me look like a fool. Why does he always have to show me up?

Daisuke looked down at his own clothes, then back at Takeru’s.

Even his mom cares about him, enough to buy him good clothes.

Your family cares about you too, Daisuke, a small voice said. But he ignored it, that and the voice that reminded him that Takeru had one parent and a teen lover that could ruin his life at any moment. Daisuke had had a teen lover, once, but that didn’t matter anymore.

Having long since given up on rational equations, he started doodling on his paper, drawing little flaming bullets striking the Keeper of Hope. He drew that the blackboard was on fire, and soon, according to him, the entire school was on fire. If he squinted just right, he could make out a pair of rotting corpses, lying side by side in the pyre: the little blonde and his favorite teacher. Daisuke sighed.

He was just about to break his pencil in half, or somebody’s head, when the bell rang. Daisuke sprang up from his desk in an effort to beat the crowd. He was almost out the door, when Mr. Fujikawa called him back to his desk. From Daisuke’s view, he seemed to tower above the child, even though Daisuke was a good inch taller.

“Mr. Motomiya. Your test scores have been… how shall I say this… miserable. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Mr. Fujikawa dropped the papers with a thud on his desk. Big, red “Xs” littered the pages. Daisuke clenched his teeth in an effort to stop from crying. Everyone knew he was stupid; why make a big deal out of it?

Because he likes to make it a big deal, that’s why.

“There’s no easy way to say this… If you don’t pass your next test, you’ll be held back.” He looked the child in the eyes, as if trying to intimidate him, as if daring him to argue, or plead.

“It’s not like I’m trying to fail, sir.”

Mr. Fujikawa snorted. “Well, be that as it may, I’m going to assign you a tutor.”

At that moment, Daisuke felt smaller than a bug. The teacher wrote down a number and handed it to Daisuke. As he was shoved out of the room, Daisuke looked at the number, and felt his heart sink into the cesspool that was his stomach. The number was Takeru’s.

With a heavy heart, he trudged to his locker, barely holding back tears. I’m a sissy, he thought to himself, trying to get his breath under control. He and Takeru had been friends, but none of that mattered anymore. He pulled his textbook out of his locker and put his math book back in, and grabbed his lock.

But it does matter, a tiny voice muttered from the back of his head. He was your best friend. You and him fought great battles together, and saved millions in the process. You saved Hikari and Miyako on several occasions. You saved him, and he saved you.

He slammed the locker shut, locked it, and headed for his Japanese class.

Don’t forget, the tiny voice continued, you vowed to stay best friends. You loved-

That was before he slept with Hikari, Daisuke thought back painfully, shutting up the resistant voice from the back of his head. But Daisuke was so tired of arguing with voices and people that he kept on walking, right past his next class, ignoring the looks from several students inside. He kept walking down the hall, a tired, lonely expression on his face. No one stopped to ask him what was wrong, no one bothered to pay him any attention.

None of that mattered anymore. He walked into the bathroom, and, making sure that the stalls were empty, he let loose a wail of anguish, and sobbed, careful to keep it down so as not to attract attention, though it would likely make no difference. He stood there for a while, knowing that at any moment someone, anyone could walk in, and see he crying like a baby.

Daisuke avoided looking at his face for a while, as if he was afraid of what he’d see, but soon found enough courage to look upon himself. He walked to the mirror, and saw the red blotchy cheeks he knew so well. He wiped the last remaining tears from his face, dried the patches on his shirt and flamed vest, and leaned up against the wall, trying to decide if he should just bunk school for the day. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But in the end, he chose to return to Japanese and try to get back to normal, no matter how much he hated normal. Normal meant anguish, suffering, abandonment, and more tears. Normal also meant more chances to talk to Miyako.

When he walked in, he ignored the stares and whispers from his peers and sat down, near the back, away from the others. The teacher, an old woman with graying hair and a shrunken frame barely looked at him, as though this was normal. Daisuke took out his book and his pen, ready to try to learn.

Miyako sat up in the front row, but kept looking back at Daisuke to wonder why he was acting as he was. In the end, it became unbearable, so she quietly asked to move to a different desk. The teacher merely shrugged, and kept reading her magazine. Daisuke looked up when he saw Miyako sitting beside him all of a sudden, but welcomed the intrusion. He looked at her, and she looked back, and nothing was said for a moment or two.

In fact, during the whole lesson, Miyako said nothing whatsoever to Daisuke, but near the end, she silently tore a piece of paper, wrote down a note, folded the piece of paper, and secretly passed it to him without a word. Daisuke wasn’t surprised when she did, but looked at her. She winked, and then the bell rang, signaling lunch period. Daisuke sighed, for the millionth and first time that day. He looked back at Miyako, but found that she had already rejoined her friends.

He sat down at a table with his lunch from the cafeteria, a ham and cheese sandwich. Daisuke opened the note and read, in Miyako’s all-too familiar script,

What’s wrong? You’ve been acting weird all day. Come over after school, and we can talk. Say, 5 30, my place?-Miyako

Daisuke thought for a moment, eating his less than satisfactory sandwich. If he went straight to Takeru’s for an hour and a half, he’d be able to hop onto his bike and make it to Miyako’s in time. He just hoped he could keep it together till then. It was strange, Daisuke knew, how just one girl could keep him alive. Were it not for her, he’d have killed himself many times over; he knew he’d have been able to. Daisuke knew it was useless; Miyako didn’t want him, he thought.

Why would she? Daisuke thought as he walked to science, the bell for third period having just rung. He’d be late if he didn’t hurry. Takeru and Miyako were both in the same class. Daisuke picked up the pace, making into science on time. He looked around, trying to remember what he did last time. His eyes settled on a pair of people up in the front, and his heart sunk again. There was Miyako, lip-locked with Takeru. It seemed inevitable. The other kids seemed to ignore them, as if only Daisuke saw them-

Wait. Takeru? Isn’t he with Hikari?

He watched them french, then gasped, and started yelling for the other kids to notice, as Miyako pulled off her shirt, exposing her front for everyone to see. Daisuke stared at the unresponsive kids, then jumped when he suddenly felt something hard hit his butt; it was his chair. He found that he was sitting in his desk, and that both Miyako and Takeru were quietly studying in their proper desks. Daisuke frowned; he’d never imagined something like that before. He looked at the clock, startled to find that it was nearly one thirty.

“Mr. Motomiya! I assume that since you are ignoring me, you know the atoms by heart?”

“No- no, san, I do not,” Daisuke admitted sheepishly. “I- I feel a little nauseous. May I go to the washroom?”

“Go see the nurse. I don’t want you ruining the lesson,” the teacher said sharply, and left it at that. Daisuke stood up from his stool, made it down the aisle of science tables, and passed the two other former Chosen. Takeru and Miyako watched him, with Takeru eyeing him evilly, though Daisuke only registered Miyako. He was a little shaken, and as he walked out of the room, he began to visibly shake. Miyako watched him, then got up sharply and ran out as Daisuke collapsed to the floor, landing on his elbows and knees. The teacher watched her leave with feigned interest, and then got back to explaining atoms and their structure.

“Daisuke! What’s wrong? You look like you’re having a nervous breakdown.”

“Good job, Miyako. Consider applying for detective?” He sighed, for the millionth and fourth time that day, then shook his head. He glared at some of the students who were watching from the other classrooms. “I’m sorry, Miyako. I’m just… I’m… I’m going home. Can we still meet up at your place?”

“Yeah. I… I’ll walk you home. I couldn’t let you go home alone, right?”

Daisuke nodded, still on all fours. He slowly picked himself off the floor, and with an outreached hand from Miyako, he propped himself up, and signed out in the office. As he walked out of the school, he winced through the blazing sun. It was almost 2 in the afternoon, and he felt weak and small compared to the busy world around him. He brought his hand to his face, blocking out the sun, and looked around. He knew where he was, but it was all still unfamiliar to him. He couldn’t place it.

“What’s going on, Daisuke?” Miyako asked softly as he clung to her, not daring to let go. She awkwardly let him hang on, and stroked his head. He sighed again.

“I don’t know. Everything is wrong. Hikari and Takeru… My family, my meds, school, my life, you-”

He stopped, realizing his mistake as soon as he’d said it. The light flashed across her large glasses

“Me?” Miyako asked incredulously. “What did I do?”

“It’s not you…” Daisuke said slowly, still unsure if he could indeed support himself. “It’s me, and you.”

Miyako looked at him. “Daisuke? Do you have… feelings… for me?”

Of course not, said one part of his brain. You can’t! Don’t forget about him!

But you do, said the other part. You must!

“Yes. No! I don’t know,” Daisuke said quickly. “Oh, I wish I did, but lately…”

“You’ve been pretty lonely ever since V-mon left.” Miyako surmised. She was afraid say his name, afraid to bring forth more tears.

Her fear was well placed, for Daisuke looked away, and sniffled. He brought a hand to his eyes, and wiped. When he finally spoke, it was with a choppy voice.

“He was more than a partner. He was a friend, a buddy, a person that spoke my language, even if he wasn’t really a person. I miss the blue lizard.” He knew that V-mon leaving him wasn’t the only reason why Daisuke had started down his manic depressive spiral.

Daisuke sat down on the bench he found himself at. Miyako sat down beside him, and hugged him. He leaned on her side, and she didn’t object. Indeed, she leaned back, more for support than feelings, Daisuke thought.

“What do you have planned for tonight, Dai?” she asked, hugging him.

“Besides you? I have to go see Takeru, but I’m still free for you- free to come over, I mean.”

“Takeru? But I thought you hated him.”

I hadn’t always hated him.

“I do! But, Mr. Fujikawa says I need a tutor, and sometimes I think he does this sort of thing to make me feel worse about myself.”

“Well, don’t worry. I’ll come with you, and you won’t be alone.” Miyako said, standing up. Daisuke followed suit, and soon, they were within sight of the apartment.

Daisuke looked up, up, up at the height of the building. It was almost dizzying. Miyako stood behind him, making sure that he wouldn’t fall. He looked down again, and kept walking.

Why is she doing this for me?

They walked into the ominous shadow of the building. He entered the elevator and pushed the button for the ninth floor. The silent but ever present music was annoying. He looked at Miyako, and she looked back; he smiled, then glanced back at the door, blushing. Miyako sighed, wondering if he’d ever just come out and say it.

The lift chimed, and the door slid open. Daisuke started walking, and then looked back at Miyako, who was still in the elevator. He stared in silent question, Are you coming?

Miyako sighed. “I need to get back to school. I have some things I need to take care of. I’ll be back in a bit, and take you to Takeru’s.”

“You’ll stay with me, right?” Daisuke asked nervously.

Miyako chuckled. He still looked like the young boy who had fought to save worlds, despite the fact that if his parents would let him, he could drive. “Of course. I don’t want you killing Takeru.”

He smiled, nodded, and headed off in the direction of his room. Miyako watched the brunette turn the corner and sighed. The elevator doors slid shut, and Miyako was whisked downwards towards the first floor.

By the time he had reached his room, Daisuke had become aware of an increasing feeling of nausea in the pit of his stomach. It was a feeling he knew all too well, though he was concerned. The withdrawal symptoms of his medication were slightly severe, though Daisuke had taken them this morning. At least, he though he did.

Deciding that he must’ve been remembering some other day, Daisuke stumbled into the bathroom and filled a glass of water. He popped the plastic tube in his mouth, filled it with water, and swallowed. It tasted terrible.

He shook his head, as if to shake the taste away, but to no avail. After a few moments, he wandered over to the couch, thinking of what he was going to say to his family about him skipping school. Sure, he’d felt awful, even deathly. But they wouldn’t care.

The thought astonished Daisuke. His parents wouldn’t care. They wouldn’t care that he’d left school. They wouldn’t care if he stayed out all night. They wouldn’t care if he raped Miyako and killed-

Whoa. Did I just think what I thought I thought?

He shook his head again, and turned on the TV. The daytime programming was worse than his meds, but he didn’t care. After a while, he stood up, looked over to the TV stand, and spied some movies.

He opened the chest, and rifled though the films. Nothing much, except for some classics, and kids’ movies, more for a younger Daisuke. His family kept the movies, as if to show him how childlike he’d been.

Stupid family. I wish each and every one of them would just curl up and die.

He stood up, and looked at the clock. Takeru would be getting home right about now; it was already about three thirty in the afternoon. He got up, and ambled over to the phone; he picked up the receiver and dialed.

The phone on the other end ring two times. Three. Four. Daisuke was just about to hang up and try again later, when a voice asked over the phone, “Moshi-Moshi?”

“Ta- Takeru?”

A pause on the other end. “What do you want, Daisuke?”

Daisuke sighed. “Mr. Fujikawa asked me to get some… help… in math. He gave me your number, and-”

“You want me to be your tutor?” Daisuke could hear a suppressed laughter on the other end.

“It’s just, if I don’t try harder and pass my next test, I’m going to be held back; you know that as much as I do.”

“Why should I help you?”

Daisuke sat down on the stool, hard. “I- I’m asking you, as a- a friend. As a buddy. A fellow Chosen: best friends forever, right?” he asked, looking back to their adventures together.

“Don’t ever talk about anything even remotely connected to the Digital world. You want this help, you’re going to have to shut up and get along-”

“You think I want this help? I’d be more than happy to ignore you for the rest of my ridiculously short life, Takeru-kun.”

“Don’t ever say that word again! Stupid Bastard! I love Hikari!” Daisuke could feel Takeru’s temper rise, even across the phone.

“Do you? ’Cause that wasn’t the impression that I’d gotten, kun.  Do you ever wonder why I left you?”

An awkward pause. Then, “How long do you need?”

“An hour or two. I need to pass this next test,” Daisuke said angrily.

“Come- Get over here. I don’t have much time,” Takeru finally said, carefully avoiding the “C” word.

Daisuke noticed, and snorted. “Whatever.”

Daisuke slammed the receiver on the phone, hard. He sat down and thought hard about how the two had blown up. After a moment, he began to feel slightly ill, and tried to remember if he’d indeed taken his pill for the day. It was already 3:30, and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t yet.

So instead of taking another, Daisuke went to his room, and sifted through he mess till he found his backpack. He smiled, and picked it up, and he’d just reached the phone to call Miyako, when someone knocked on the door. He smiled, hung up the phone, and walked over. Daisuke opened the door to let in Miyako, and stared; she wasn’t wearing her usual outfit. She was wearing a tight, black leather mini, and a red tube top. She’d also done her face, and she’d dyed her hair black. She hadn’t gotten rid of her large thin glasses, but had snapped on some shades for them.

Crap. She looks… hot.

“Well? What do you think? Do I look ready to hit the town?”

“Actually, you look like a cheap whore,” he said, looking her up and down.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, hitting Daisuke on the forehead softly. He chuckled, and closed the door behind him. He locked the door, without leaving a note; they wouldn’t care if he ended up dead in a gutter. He let the though stew in his mind, but maintained a healthy smile for Miyako’s sake.

Daisuke watched Miyako; she knew as much, and started flirting with him: nothing much, just stretches and looks every now and then.

When they reached the elevator, Miyako reached out and hit the button, providing Daisuke with a quick glance down her skirt. He realized she was flirting, and whistled. She smiled, but acted offended, though both knew otherwise.

Daisuke stepped into the elevator shaft, Miyako pressed the button, and Daisuke screamed as the floor dematerialized beneath his feet. He hung there; floating in midair, scrambling to reach for the railings, then started plummeting past the floors, screaming with terror. He managed to catch a glimpse of Miyako, still hanging there, acting as if nothing was wrong. The floors began to whir past him, their colors blurring with speed. Daisuke gasped for breath, and closed his eyes for the impending blow he’d soon feel.

But nothing. He tentatively opened his eyes, and stared at the elevator descended slowly, with its floor still quite solid. He’d apparently been daydreaming, but the vision had been so vivid, so… real. He smiled for Miyako, who’d given him a strange look.

“Just… nervous about going to Takeru’s.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything… as long as you don’t do anything,” she warned. “Him and I are still friends, you know.”

“I know, I know.” He sighed.

“Tell you what. You do that for me, and I’ll do something for you.”

Daisuke smiled. She looked smart and sexy in that outfit, even though she always looked smart. As the elevator chimed and the door opened, Daisuke nearly hopped out; Miyako heard him mutter something about terra firma. She frowned, but if Daisuke had wanted to share it, he would’ve.

As the exited the building, Daisuke slid on his shades, while Miyako clipped hers on. They looked more than ready to hit the town. They walked past the shops and the stores on their way to Takeru’s apartment. Miyako reached out for his hand, but without warning, he jumped, and she pulled her hand back, afraid she’d offended him.

Damn emotional unbalance.

Daisuke muttered an apology, and took her hand in his, but it wasn’t the romantic gesture he knew she’d intended it to be, more of an embarrassment. His fingers intertwined hers; he looked in her eyes, and smiled.

They walked up to the apartment building and walked in, searching for the elevators. Finding none that were working, they started the long haul up ten floors. By the time they’d reached the right floor, Daisuke and Miyako were panting, and sweating. Neither cared.

Miyako stood behind Daisuke and nudged him forward; Daisuke knocked on the door. Once, twice- on the third knock, the door opened, as if Takeru had been waiting near the door, though Daisuke knew he’d never admit it.

“Daisuke.” Takeru looked in his eyes, as if looking for something.

“Takeru,” Daisuke acknowledged, smirking. He was definitely making Takeru uncomfortable, which made him feel better.

Then Takeru looked at Miyako, and asked in surprise, “Miyako? What are you doing here?”

What are you doing with this faggot?

“I’m here to help him with his math,” she answered.

I’m here to make sure you two don’t rip each other’s throats out.

“Well, good to see you. You look… good. Come in,” Takeru gestured, nearly pulling them inside. “Dad gets home at five, so we’ll have to hurry.”

“Fine.” Daisuke looked in his eyes, trying to intimidate him, but was immediately drawn into his blue eyes. He felt as if he was falling into an ocean, drowning, but he shook his head, pulling out of the daydream before it could become real.

Daisuke looked around, having been in this room before. It brought back some wild memories; Daisuke had had a fun time here, before Takeru had slept with Hikari and the Digimon had left. He remembered sleepovers in which neither had really slept, and math lessons turned to biology.

But now he’s with Hikari.

That, in essence, was the only reason Daisuke had left him, why he’d become emotionally unstable, why his life had hit a rock and had been thrown off it’s track. Why Daisuke was now dependant on his medication.

All because of this one boy.

Daisuke sat down, and listened as Takeru started explaining everything Daisuke would need for the test, and then began teaching the concepts. Miyako sat down on the couch, and turned on the television, flicking through the channels.

Takeru, once he got into it, was a math genius. It seemed like a hardship, a burden, even, that Takeru would have to stoop to Daisuke’s level, just because of a teacher. It made Daisuke feel worse.

Soon, it was nearly five. By that time, Daisuke was stewing in his angry, self-pity thoughts. Takeru looked at the clock, and sighed.

“I guess you got to go, huh?”

He’s trying to get rid of me. So typical of him.

“I suppose. I’ll… see you, kun.”

He stood up, and walked to the door. Miyako smiled at him, a prize for getting throughout the afternoon without breaking something or hitting anyone. He smiled back; they waited for Takeru to close the door, and brought their lips together; nothing more than a slight peck, physically.

Miyako grinned, and took his hand in hers. He didn’t jump.

Maybe this could turn out to be a good day after all, Daisuke though to himself as they descended down the elevator, the floor remaining quite solid.

As long as your father does what he does, you’ll never have a good day.

They reached the outside world without problem, though Daisuke began to feel slightly ill. He shook it off, deciding that he hadn’t eaten right, or something. As if to reassure him, his stomach growled.

“Hungry?” Miyako asked, patting his belly. “I brought of some money, though I don’t if I have enough-”

“Don’t worry. I took some from my sister’s room; she has so much, she won’t notice, stupid whore that she is.”

Miyako nodded, knowing full well that Jun had a reputation of being quite loose. She’d have taken the money as well, had she had the chance.

“Where do you want to eat?” Daisuke asked, surprising Miyako. She hadn’t thought about going out on a date, though she had to admit that this was soon becoming one.

“Hmm. They have opened a new Italian place, a few blocks up from here. What do you say?”

“Beats those American food joints,” Daisuke admitted, nodding. He kissed her, and continued walking. Miyako leaned on him, and smiled.

On the way there, the sun had gradually sunk on the horizon. By the time they’d reached the restaurant, the sky had turned a violent shade of dark blue, and even with the city lights popping on, they could see a few twinkling stars here and there.

He looked over to Miyako, who was silently eyeing him coyly.

She’s amazing…

“You look stunning,” Daisuke said. They greeted the Japanese-Italian waiter, and were seated on the balcony, at a small patio table, underneath the newly appearing stars.

While they waited for the waiter to return for their orders, they briefly looked at the menus, then spent the rest of the time (which, according to Daisuke, was far too short) looking at each other. Miyako smiled, and kissed Daisuke on the cheek.

“Ah, true love. I am happy, there is much happiness and love about tonight,” the waiter said in choppy Japanese. He gestured to several other couples seated on the balcony, and then proceeded to take their orders. Miyako had Fettuccini Alfredo, while Daisuke had some lasagna.

Damn. I’m actually having fun, Daisuke thought to himself. Soon the food was brought. He pressed his legs up against Miyako’s thighs, and she smiled back at him. They silently ate their food; no words were needed. Within an hour, the waiter had brought the bill, along with some mints. Daisuke promptly paid the bill, and they left, hand in hand.

Daisuke walked Miyako home, to her room above her family’s convenience store. They kissed for a moment, then decided that since the next day was a Saturday, they’d have a picnic in the park, and take a quick dip in the community pool.

Daisuke kissed her again, then said good-bye, hopeful but not expecting to be let in. Miyako soon confirmed his thoughts.

“My parents are home tonight; they would be less than thrilled to see you. You’ll have to sleepover another night.” She winked, and closed the door.

Daisuke had the sudden urge to beg to stay over; he didn’t want to spend another night with his family, with his dad, knowing what he did every night. But in the end, he knew he had to face his father’s demands again; having accepted them long ago, Daisuke ignored them, mostly.

Daisuke sighed, waited a few moments, then turned around and headed down the street towards his home. It was already nine o’clock, and the sky was darkening slowly. He walked slowly, enjoying the evening air, his breath condensing in front of his face. He walked past the Italian place, and smiled at the waiter who waved at him.

Nothing could ruin this night.

Daisuke knew, however, that the night was far from over.

He continued walking, and looked up to see his apartment towering over the cityscape. He made it home, casually unlocked the door, and walked into his room. He found, as soon as he’d turned off the light, that he was exhausted. He took off his clothes, all but for his boxers, hopped into bed, and was asleep before his head had hit the pillow.

No one bothered to ask where he’d been, and no one cared to know how his day had been, or whether he was hungry. Daisuke grumbled slightly before losing it completely.

What an awful way to end such a great day.

Why was it great? The nagging voice asked, keeping Daisuke awake, just at the point of unconsciousness. You could never love her, you know.

Shut up, and let me sleep.

But while the voice was quieted, it left traces of guilt in his mind, enough to ruin his dreams.

Daisuke groaned as his lips met hers in a fiery passion, he tilted her head back to lick her neck. He looked at the purple haired girl, only to discover that her hair had turned blonde. Miyako never went blonde. He stared as the face slowly turned to Takeru, who moved away, holding a now visible Hikari in his arms. They started running, and Daisuke chased after them, but wasn’t able to catch them.

His eyes snapped open; he lay in his bed, covered in a cold sweat, panting. It was only four in the morning. Daisuke got up, and blindly stumbled over to the bathroom, flicking on the light and immediately cursing himself. His eyes struggled to adjust, so he stood there, eyes closed and head down, while he waited till the pain subsided.

Able to see properly, he looked around and soon found his medication, and popped two pills back. The meds were to be taken one a day, once a day, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t care.

He flicked the lights off, stumbled into his room, and felt something under his foot, as he was about to put weight on it. He threw his leg forward, not wanting to step on whatever it was.

He fell on his bed, and almost howled in pain as he felt his right arm hit the bed first at an odd angle. He bit his lip and held back tears, but soon felt the pain subside. He’d have to get it checked out the next morning, no use waking up his parents for a strained wrist. He hoped that Mr. Motomiya would stay asleep, hoping that he hadn’t woken his father up.

Not that that matters anymore.

A knock at the door. Daisuke bit his lip, knowing what came next. A tear rolled down his face. No child should have to go through this, he thought to himself. His dad opened the door. Daisuke started crying.

“Why do you cry?” Mr. Motomiya asked softly. “You know I love you.”

“This isn’t love,” Daisuke sobbed. Would no one save him from this monster?