A/N: eljuno's request for my white_knuckle meme. Digimon. Takeru x Ken. Title: The Neon Bright Tokyo Lights. Line: "A nightmare of you woke me up at a quarter to three." It's a bit odd, and I'm not really sure how it came out. A Daisuke muse wormed his way in and started messing around. ^_^;;

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"The Neon Bright Tokyo Lights"

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A nightmare of you woke me up at a quarter to three. You were smiling in that way you used to smile when you hated me. Except you hated me in a strange way.

You hated me the way most people would love me.

I woke up in a cold sweat, naked and still sticky from sex. You were sleeping next to me, lit in neon light and smiling- a different smile, though. The one Daisuke gave you way back when.

He's been dead for how long now, but you talk about him like he's away for the weekend. I gave up on expecting you to get over it. After all, what would I do if Iori died? And even when we could still Jogress I wasn't nearly as close to him as you were to Daisuke.

Although . . . I can still hear Iori's heartbeat even now. When I concentrate. When I space out.

But you and Daisuke were the first of our group and the strongest. So I wonder, did you hear his always?

Because when they told us he was dead, you looked like you already knew.

I have to wonder what you hear now. Whose heart does yours beat with? I know you love me, but I am not a "soulmate." Lovers and soulmates are different things. Because sex doesn't even come into that equation. You never think of Daisuke when we sleep together, but sometimes when we hold hands or kiss- the really light, innocent kisses- sometimes when we are like that, your eyes glaze over and I think I see him again in the back of your gaze.

You aren't the person that was Daisuke's partner. Well, you are, but not in the way that he would remember you. You are louder now and laugh more and have developed a really terrible sense of humor.

You are a lot like him now, in fact. It's not even on purpose from what I can tell.

Sometimes I pretend that I can still see him when I look at you. Sometimes I really can, too. The places that he touched you, the ways that he saved you.

Messiahs always die young, though. It's just a thing they do . . . another part of the superhero gig, I guess. They have to die young and perfect and beautiful. Like Daisuke died. Like my brother and Taichi died. Quickly and violently and absolutely without warning. Car crash, train wreck, aneurysm, heart attack, whatever. Quick and violent and unexpected, like the way they lived.

It's really such a pain in the ass.

You and I aren't heroes, though- we're the clean-up duty. The "hope" and the "kindness": the ones who clean up afterwards and comfort the survivors. The ones who can only die together.

I like that idea, at least. Because if we have to die, I'd hate for either of us to be left alone again.

You're still asleep.

I trace the memory of that first smile across your face and think about the ghosts of people that I have loved.

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. : you and i take breath like one : .