Author's Notes: And this is what happens when I find out that Miyako's brother has a name. I was on the fence for using the Japanese term for "little sister," since, besides endearments, I now like to keep my stories generally all in English. However, I find the terms "onii-san," and "imouto-chan," more fitting than their English counterparts.
As for the "idiot" section, those of you who recall the scene where Miyako slaps Ken, she originally called him a "baka (idiot)." When he stuttered at her accusation, she screamed, "Baka!" and smacked him good. Oh, and mature reviews, they're always accepted. ;)
The Onii-san Syndrome
Tapping his nervous fingers against the maroon fabric of the couch he was sitting on, Ken Ichijouji made a silent promise to himself that he'd never listen to Daisuke Motomiya again. It just wasn't a good idea.
Then again, this was technically Ken's fault; he'd been foolish enough to tell his best human friend about his... fondness towards a certain heather haired girl. A "crush," as Daisuke had bluntly, and laughingly put it. Oh, Daisuke had had way too much fun teasing Ken about the whole thing. Revenge must be taken.
Across from Ken, someone coughed.
Right. Revenge... Later.
"So," the person in the cushy leather chair gave Ken a skeptical look with bespectacled eyes, "you're the guy who thinks he's good enough to date Miyako-chan."
Nervously, Ken bobbed his head in affirmative. It hadn't been a question, more of a dry statement. However, it was just a reflex to respond to it. Almost as if Ken himself was trying to be convinced that, yes indeed, he had managed to get up the nerve to ask Miyako out.
"My imouto-chan seems to like you," the young man informed the Child
of Kindness. With an expression of distaste, the blonde crossed his arms.
"My other sisters like you, too, though they haven't met you really. They
just know your reputation for being the Boy Genius back in the day.
"I want to know," he rested his elbows on the chair's arms, and placed his folded hands underneath his chin. The disgusted look never left his face. "Knowing my sisters like you, does that make you happy?"
"Eh?" Ken blinked. This was odd, and uncomfortable. He wondered how much longer it would take Miyako to get done. His violet eyes darted to the hallway that led to her room.
"Don't bother," the blonde said, dully. "She's my imouto-chan. She'll
take whatever time she needs to feel perfect for you. Which might be a
great deal of time.
"And you better not complain about that," he added, slightly threatening. "She will have all the time she wants, and that's that. Understood?"
Now, that was a question. Ken nodded, even more nervous than before.
It was strange. Ken had faced some of the fiercest digimon ever, many threatening the safety of the world. He managed to do it all by controlling his fear. Pushing it away. This, technically, should be a cakewalk to him. However, the instant he walked through the door, and Miyako's brother --his name Ken had yet to recall, which made the situation all the worse-- had answered, the indigo haired boy had felt supremely outmatched.
This was, Ken supposed, the alleged "Onii-san Syndrome" that Hikari had once complained about, when Taichi had yet again scared away one of her dates in under three minutes.
"Taichi-niichan just thinks he still needs to protect me from the boogie men," Hikari had explained with a tiny frown.
Well, Ken knew he was no "boogie man." And, he had lasted for more than three minutes. This was a good thing, right? This had to show promise.
"I don't like you," muttered the blonde. "I don't like guys like you.
Think you're all great because of your brains and your looks. Have girls
fawning for you all the time. Must get a real kick out of it.
"Well, I don't. So, let's make this clear," the young man leaned forward. "There will be rules on this date. If you break them, I break you."
Screw promise. This guy was just itching to intimidate. Ken knew it. So, technically, it shouldn't have been working. He doubted Miyako's brother had the talent to do any real harm to him. However, there was something... immensely unpleasant about the idea that a member of Miyako's family wouldn't approve of him.
And, of course, there was also the fact that the blonde had obviously inherited the Inoue height genes, for he easily towered over Ken, which was no simple feat. Height always helped in intimidation. Ken idly wondered just how the Inoue girls' more average heighted suitors handled this situation. He guessed rather not well.
"Number one!" the blonde barked, lifting up his index finger. "When Miyako-chan comes out, you will compliment her. It doesn't matter what she's wearing, you will think she looks ravishing in it, and you will tell her so."
Ken nodded, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck.
"Number two! At all times your eyes will never go below Miyako-chan's
neck. If they do, I will know." The young man's brown eyes narrowed behind
their frames. "Don't wonder how. I just will.
"Number three! Hand holding is fine. Resting your hand on her shoulder is tolerable. Draping your arm across her shoulders is grounds for me breaking that lazy arm of yours. And touching of any other parts of her body is grounds for me crippling you."
Ken's left eyebrow twitched. What had he gotten himself into?
"Number four!" The brother continued, unabashed. "Since this is your
first date, romance is to be at a minimum, so Miyako-chan doesn't feel
the need to do anything she shouldn't. Like kiss you. Movies and candle
lit restaurants are forbidden. Bowling alleys and fast food joints are
"Number five! If she wants something, you will get it for her. There is no exception to this rule. I don't care how ridiculous the request might be." The blonde glared. "If Miyako-chan wants a pink porcelain elephant made in China, you will find a place that sells them, got it?"
"G-got it," Ken stuttered, wincing at the unusually high pitch of his voice.
"I didn't give you permission to talk," Miyako's brother scowled.
Instead of the lecture Ken thought he might get, the blonde simply proceeded with the ground rules. "Number six! Miyako-chan is a spirited person, but you will treat her like a delicate flower. You will open doors, pull out chairs, and pay for everything." He pointed at Ken, threateningly. "You will not go Dutch with my imouto-chan."
The indigo haired boy nodded vigorously, now sure he was sweating like he was in a sauna.
"Number seven! You will not make any unscheduled stops. Particularly
in secluded areas. If you do, I will know," the brother glared. "And I
will find you. And I will hurt you.
"Number eight! You will do nothing to upset Miyako-chan. You make her cry, and I'll make you cry," he snarled.
Ken once again nodded, this time trying to swallow the lump that was developing in his throat, as well.
"Number nine! If, by the end of the night, Miyako-chan feels gracious
enough to bless you with a second date, you will arrive for that second
date with some sort of gift to show your appreciation. Roses, perhaps.
Lots of them. No candy, less you give her some foul kind she doesn't like.
"Number ten!" the blonde finalized. "She is to be back early. There is no such thing as 'too early.' You will walk her safely to the door, and watch her go in as a method of precaution. You will not follow her in. I will be waiting up. She will no longer need you at that time."
The young man cleared his throat. "Is that understood? You can speak now, by the way," He added, almost as an afterthought.
"Uh... " Ken forced his tight lungs to gather up enough air to voice a sufficient, but still pitiful, "Yes."
Good," the blonde nodded.
They sat in their respective places for an undetermined amount of uncomfortable silence. The blonde continued to stare down Ken, while the Child of Kindness tried to keep eye contact until it became too much. After his time as the Kaiser, Ken had lost all interest of being in the spotlight. He much preferred to be supportive. While he did like being top of his class, he now had to work much harder for it, and didn't always make top honors. He found that getting second place sometimes wasn't as bad as he used to think.
"Do you give these rules to every guy?"
There are some times in a person's life where they'll say something so incredibly stupid that they can actually see the words coming out of their mouth, while a little voice in the back of their mind screams, "No! Come back!" Naturally, the words do not come back, and the person has to deal with the consequences.
Ken felt his heart practically stop, and wondered if it would decide to jump into his throat or plummet into his feet, whichever it preferred.
The blonde, however, after arching one light brown eyebrow, shrugged, and leaned back in his chair. "Just about," he answered, a matter-of-factly. "You're not special, ya know? Just like any other guy Miyako-chan has dated."
"Ah." Ken nodded. Then paused. Then blinked. "How... How many other guys has Miyako-san dated?"
The young man snorted. "Like I'd tell you." The young man then paused. Then blinked. "Did you just call her 'Miyako-san?'"
"Uh, yes," Ken gulped. "I-is that- ?"
"Shut up," the blonde muttered, suddenly more serious than threatening, much to Ken's surprise. He leaned forward, brown eyes piercing through his glasses. "Why do you think you're good enough to date Miyako... san?"
Brown eyes widened with disbelief, before narrowing. The response had been so quick, like a knee-jerk reaction; the young man hadn't been expecting it. "Then, why do you want to date Miyako-chan?"
"I... " Ken's voice trailed, as he tried to come up with the best way to word it all. "I don't how much Miyako-san has told you of her first times fighting in the Digital World. I guess that's really up to her to tell. But I wasn't... I did some really bad things back then."
Slipping glasses were pushed back in place, and lips thinned. "How bad?"
"Really bad," Ken bit, making it clear that he wanted to not get into detail. "Bad things that I'm still trying to make up for. I know I can't feel guilty forever, and I don't much anymore, but... Miyako-san could do better."
The blonde's frown deepened. "Then why should she date you?"
"Because I can't do better than Miyako-san," was the simple answer.
The young man bristled. "If you're implying that Miyako-chan can only attract lowlife pieces of trash, I'll- !"
"That's not it at all!" Violet eyes finally connected with brown eyes.
An indigo head shook its denial. "I didn't mean to imply that. I just...
I can't do better than Miyako-san." Dark blue locks hung over a shadowed
face. Words were spoken in low, secret tones. "I don't know what changed
my look of her. Maybe she did her hair up in some new way. Or maybe it
was just hormones." Slim shoulders shook lightly.
"She knows, you know? I hide everything I can, I shove it all down inside me. And she'll find it. She doesn't even try half the time, but she'll always ask me what's wrong when I'm not feeling well. She doesn't think of me as 'That Boy Genius.' I'm 'Ken-kun' to her.
"Did you know," his head bobbed up slightly, "she's the only person to ever be that informal with me?"
Slowly, the blonde shook his head, a strange expression on his face.
"I like that I'm a person to her, not just a thing. A creation of the media." He snorted. "She called me an idiot once. No one's ever called me that before. It was... kind of nice to be knocked down to a normal level. Though, the proceeding slap I could've done without," he rubbed his cheek in memory.
The young man blinked, curious. "Slap?"
"I deserved it," Ken answered, simply.
The blonde didn't respond verbally, but raised an eyebrow.
"She just... " Ken's face contorted in concentration, his mind unable to come up with the proper wording to describe how he felt. He had some wording, but he was pretty sure that most of it was hormonal, and pretty damn sure that all of it would get him violently kicked out of the Inoue household. Teenage lust aside, the feelings he had... Miyako was... " ...I can't describe it," he sighed, as if in defeat.
Silence greeted him for a long moment, until softly --so soft it was almost inaudible-- the blonde whispered, "She confuses the hell outta you, doesn't she?"
Ken blinked, startled at the statement. It actually made sense. As much as he hated to admit it, it actually made sense. "Uh... Yes," he nodded.
The young man's face was unreadable at that. Ken looked timidly up at the blonde, wondering if he had made the right choice in admitting what he had. Slowly, the older boy leaned back in his chair, staring the indigo haired genius down with an icy glare that would leave most would-be suitors shivering.
"HA! Ahahahaha!" the blonde laughed hard, pointing at Ken, and stunning him. Chuckling merrily, the young man removed his glasses for a moment to wipe away laughter derived tears. "Welcome to the Dating World, Ichijouji!" he chortled. "Hope you survive the experience. Especially since you're dealing with Miyako-chan."
Ken's left eye twitched. What was going on?
The blonde laughed a bit more, and then, upon seeing Ken's clueless
expression, began to laugh so hard he was nearly on the verge of giggling.
He cut himself off with a very obnoxious snort, and pounded his chest as
if to ward away any hiccups that dared to emerge.
His fit over, the young man looked at Ken with a far more sober face. "You'll take care of my imouto-chan tonight, okay?"
"Um... Yes. Okay," Ken promised, still not sure what just happened. Unable to help himself, he stuttered. "Did I... pass?"
"Hm?" The blonde looked stumped for a moment, then waved his hand dismissively,
a smile on his face. "Oh, yeah. Flying colors."
The young man turned his head to the hallway. "Miyako-chan!" he yelled, once again successfully startling Ken. "You can come out now!"
Unseen, a door opened and shut, a feminine grunt of relief accompanying it. "Well," Miyako huffed, walking out of the hall and into the common room, "it's about time!" She placed her hands on her hips, and glared daggers at her brother. "I thought you were going to keep me in there forever, Mantarou-niichan."
Mantarou. So, that was the name Ken forgot. The indigo haired boy swore to remember it from now on. And associate it with fear, confusion, and other assorted negative emotions.
"Relax, Miyako-chan," Mantarou smiled, waving a hand towards Ken. "We were just having a talk. Weren't we, Ichijouji?"
"Uh, yeah," Ken nodded, smartly deciding that now wasn't a good time to do something that might get on Mantarou's bad side.
"Yeah, I bet you were," Miyako frowned, suspicious.
Mantarou cleared his throat. "Number one!" he murmured, for Ken's ears only.
For a long moment, the boy genius was puzzled. Then, it struck him like a truck, and he was suddenly sweating again. He turned to the heather haired girl in the room, and did his best to sound normal. "You... You look lov- ravishing, Miyako-san."
"You think?" Miyako beamed, immediately forgetting her suspicions in replace of being complimented. She gave a little twirl in her yellow dress and giggled, her cheeks rosy. "Thank you, Ken-kun!"
Ken's violet eyes met Mantarou's brown orbs, and the older boy smiled, approvingly. Ken let go of the breath he didn't even know he was holding.
"Now, don't let me keep you anymore," Mantarou dismissed them with all the air of gentile, docile mother. He motioned Ken to get up, and began to usher them out of the apartment. "You two kids have fun now!"
"We will!" Miyako said, waving to her brother. "Goodnight, Mantarou-niichan!"
"G-goodnight, Inoue-san," Ken said, glad to be out of the apartment, and in the relative safety of the hallway.
"Goodnight!" Mantarou called, and Ken felt infinitely better when he heard the apartment door close.
"So," Miyako pursed her lips, "just what did you and Mantarou talk about?"
"Oh, nothing," Ken answered, quickly. He shrugged. "Just a few, you know, guy things."
"Oh," Miyako nodded. "Okay, then. Usually, when Mantarou talks to my dates, they don't stay. He must've liked you, Ken-kun!" she giggled, and impulsively wrapped her arms around his waist.
"Number three!" a voice barked.
"Gah!" Ken nearly jumped out of his skin, as he instinctively pulled away from Miyako's grasp.
The girl blinked pretty golden-brown eyes, confused. "Ken-kun?"
"Eh, heh," Ken tried a half-hearted chuckle, one hand behind his head. With his other hand, he entwined his fingers with Miyako's, and began nearly dragging her to the elevator. "Let's just go, Miyako-san."
Miyako, still clueless as to her date's odd behavior, simply nodded. "Okay... "