Good Luck, Bad Luck
Standard Disclaimer Thingy #1: I don't own Digimon or any of the related characters, but I do own the (pathetic) plot.
Disclaimer Thingy #2: There is a plot, but be prepared for major fluff. I can't believe I wrote this! @_@
It starts as all bad days do. With a dreamlike state that is broken not by an alarm clock, but by someone pounding annoyingly on your door, insisting that you had better get up out of bed before you are late for school.
Daisuke was having one of those days. He knew this because that was how his day started. He was dreaming – probably a pleasant dream – and then the door was being pounded on – and then he was awake. He remembered nothing of the pleasant dream, only knew that he wanted desperately to return to it because it was most likely much more pleasant than the real world.
He rolled out of bed and was rewarded by a small squeak. He looked down and discovered he'd nearly stepped on Chibimon. Only by quickly dashing out of the way had the little blue digimon been saved from being squashed.
"Sorry, Chibimon," he apologized, yawning and lifting him from harm's way. He caught a glimpse of the outside world through his window and saw that it was dark and raining. Yet another typical thing about bad days.
"S'kay, Daisuke," Chibimon accepted the apology with his own yawn and watched from the safety of the bed as his partner went through the usual morning ritual of yawning and searching for a clean pair of pants and shirt.
"Hmm, what to wear," he mumbled, searching through a
pile of relatively clean clothes. Unfortunately, for Daisuke, "relatively
clean" meant, in this case, not in the least bit clean.
"Uh, Daisuke, I don't think that will work," Chibimon frowned.
Daisuke peered down at the shirt he had chosen. "Yeah, I guess not," he agreed. There was a huge ice cream stain on the front. "I should probably clean my room, shouldn't I?"
Chibimon laughed. "You said that yesterday," he reminded him. "And the day before that. And the day before that."
"I know, I know," Daisuke pulled the shirt off and found another one. "How's this? – no, that won't work either." He pulled the latest shirt over his head and sighed. "There has to be something I can wear."
Almost frantically, he began rummaging through his clothes. Chibimon laughed even harder as clothes began to fly about the room. Daisuke gave up and flung open his door.
"Mom!" he called. "Didn't you do any laundry?"
"I told you I'd wash clothes if you put them in the hamper, Dai," his mother replied from the kitchen. "I'm not going to kill myself tripping over the junk in your room."
Daisuke sighed. "Mothers," he grumbled under his breath as he slammed the door shut. "There's something in here that's clean, I know there is." He rummaged through another pile and then another.
"Daisuke, maybe you can look in there?" Chibimon suggested. Daisuke turned to where his partner was pointing – his dresser.
He shrugged. "It's worth a try," he decided, and began searching through the drawers.
Motomiya Jun was looking over the entertainment section of the newspaper while she munched some cereal. Ishida Yamato was now out of her sights, but that didn't mean that she couldn't still look for some other cute singers. And some of those performing in Odaiba were very cute. She sighed dreamily and glanced up from the paper.
Only to see her younger brother enter the kitchen wearing an orange t-shirt. Dreamy state broken, she burst into laughter.
"Planning on going to the circus?" she joked. "Or being in one?"
Daisuke only frowned in return as he dumped a sack full of dirty laundry on the floor. "If you get a chance today, Mom, do you think you could wash these?"
His mother peered at the sack, which was nearly as large as he was. "I suppose. If I can rent a moving van first."
"I've got a lot of clothes," Daisuke defended with a shrug, heading for the refrigerator.
"You'd never know it," Jun mumbled. "Most of the time you wear the same outfit."
Daisuke didn't notice his sister's comment, because he was busy searching through the refrigerator. "Isn't there any milk?"
Jun held up the empty carton. "Finished it on the cereal," she replied, shoveling another mouthful as she returned to the newspaper.
"Nothing. Nothing to eat in the house. Can you believe that. All I can cook is burnt toast! Stupid toaster."
Daisuke shook out his wet umbrella as he paused at his locker. "Bad day?" a voice asked, and he turned to see Takeru standing at the locker beside him, looking, as always, smiling, perfect, unruffled, and dry.
"Buzz off," he grumbled in response. He noted that his friend wasn't dripping wet. "Hey -," he noted. "How'd you stay so dry? It's pouring buckets outside."
Takeru shrugged. "Mom gave us a ride," he replied.
"Us?" Daisuke repeated.
"As in Iori and I," Miyako spoke up from behind him. She smiled cheerfully and then blinked. "Wow, going for bright colors today, Daisuke?"
He sighed. "It was the only thing clean," he explained. "I'm having a bad day."
"So I see," she replied, with a grin. Daisuke ignored that and turned back to his locker. Before anything else could be said, the bell rang, and the halls cleared. Daisuke turned to head to his first class.
And immediately, inexplicably, the bottom fell out of his bag.
Daisuke sipped the flat soda that had been packed for his lunch as he munched his sandwich. Apparently, milk wasn't the only thing they were out of. He had purchased the soda, minus carbonation, from the school, but his sandwich was made on half-stale bread, and with peanut butter. No jelly, just peanut butter.
He forced another bite down his throat and watched as Miyako and Takeru approached his table. Normally, he enjoyed having them sit at his table, but today the smell of their lunches was making him even hungrier. He didn't have enough money to buy a snack, and his mother hadn't packed one. He suspected they were out of that, too.
Takeru and Miyako greeted him as cheerfully as they had that morning and seated themselves across the table from him. They continued to talk in that annoyingly good-humored mood while Daisuke did his best to swallow the stale peanut butter.
"Sorry I'm late," Iori stated as he slid in beside Takeru. "There's a very long line for food." He gestured towards his own over-stuffed tray.
Daisuke's mouth began to water. He could only see the generous helpings of food on Iori's plate, just waiting to be eaten.
"Mmm-hmm," Takeru agreed with his mouth half-full. "It's very good today." A few pieces of rice floated back to the plate, and Daisuke watched as they fell, each tiny piece echoing as it hit the ground again.
"Hey," Miyako spoke up suddenly. "What happened to Hikari? I haven't seen her all day." Daisuke managed to tear his eyes away from her food for a moment as he considered what she said.
Ordinarily, Hikari had the first class of the day with him. He'd been late by nearly ten minutes after his bag had dismantled itself in the hallway, and when he'd arrived, he'd been in such bad spirits he hadn't even thought to look for her. And now that he thought back, he didn't recall having seen her at all.
"I haven't seen her either," he agreed, managing somehow to make himself understood through the thickness of the peanut butter. He took a gulp of the flat soda and made a face.
"I don't know," Takeru admitted. He frowned, a serious expression covering his previously cheerful face. "I hope she's not sick."
Daisuke was so glad to see Takeru look less than annoyingly cheerful for the first time that day that he nearly cheered aloud. That is, before he remembered the seriousness of the situation.
"Maybe we should send her an email, see if she's alright," Iori suggested, and the others eagerly agreed, Takeru pulling out his D-terminal from his bag, since he was the most prepared.
A few moments later, the message was sent, and Takeru returned to his meal, after taking the time to put his device back in the correct place in his bag. Daisuke mentally groaned at the organization and stuffed the last of his sandwich in his mouth.
"Daisuke," Miyako wondered, glancing at him with a curious expression. "Is that a leaf in your hair?"
Eventually, school was over, but, alas, the day was going to continue. Daisuke opened his umbrella and peered at the gray sky. "Darn."
"What?" Chibimon questioned from the relative dryness of his arms. He was fascinated by the rain and the sheer possibility of water falling from the sky, and he couldn't understand why humans, including his partner, seemed to think it was such a bad thing.
"I was supposed to go play soccer with Ken today after school," Daisuke confessed. "We were supposed to meet at the park. He said he was gonna show me some new moves and I was gonna show him some of mine. You know, just to hang out. But we can't if it rains."
"Oh." Chibimon could understand that. He missed his Jogress partner as much as Daisuke did. And rain would inconvenience their time together. "Maybe you can still hang out – just not play soccer," he suggested.
"Maybe," Daisuke admitted. He thought about the stash of coins he had in his room. "I think I have enough to take the train to Tamachi. I should probably call him first, though."
"Yea!" Chibimon cheered at the idea of the train, though admittedly more at the idea of the trip to Tamachi.
A short while later, Daisuke was at home, to discover he was the only one home. Jun was spending time with friends, he assumed at the mall, and his parents were still working. He spotted the sack of laundry on his bedroom floor, cleaned now, and rejoiced at the thought of clean clothes. He was wet and dirty, so after a quick hot shower, he changed into a clean and less bright-colored outfit and searched for some food. He was still hungry from lunch, and was pleased to see a huge selection of meats and cheeses in the refrigerator. Soon, he had two large sandwiches – one for him, one for Chibimon, and he was devouring it eagerly.
Maybe the day wasn't going to be so bad after all, he thought as he picked up the phone to call Tamachi. He could still save the day even if they couldn't play soccer.
"Hello, Ichijouji residence," Ken's mother sounded as cheerful as ever on the phone.
"Hi Mrs. Ichijouji," Daisuke greeted, just as cheerfully. "Is Ken home?"
"Oh, no, I'm sorry Daisuke, he's not. He said he had something important to do today and he wouldn't be back until late. Do you want to leave a message?"
'Something important to do? He was supposed to hang out with me!' Daisuke frowned but replied only: "No thanks, that's alright. Just tell him I called. Thanks." He hung up feeling slightly betrayed and a little angry.
"He's not home?" Chibimon asked, peering up at him with huge eyes.
Daisuke shook his head. "His mom said he had something important to do," he replied as he sat down at the table beside his digimon.
"Wasn't he supposed to hang out with us?" Chibimon wondered.
"Yeah, well, maybe he had to do something else," Daisuke replied with a frown. He didn't like this situation.
"Oh." Chibimon was silent for a moment before he replied. "Well, we can still do something fun. Maybe somebody else isn't busy."
"Maybe," Daisuke agreed listlessly. "Hey, I'd better call Takeru. I never did find out if Hikari was okay."
A moment later, Takeru was on the phone. "Oh, hi Daisuke, I was just on my way out the door. Hikari? No, I haven't heard anything back, but I can't talk, I'm in a hurry. Bye!"
Daisuke hung up the phone with a frown. "Now that was weird."
"Why?" Chibimon asked.
"Takeru was in too much of a hurry to think about Hikari. That's weird."
Chibimon nodded. "Now what?"
Daisuke thought for a moment. "I guess that if I want to know what's happening to Hikari I should just ask Hikari myself, right?"
"So you're gonna call Hikari?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll do that."
But it was not Hikari that answered the phone, or even one of her parents. It was Taichi.
"Daisuke, hi!" he greeted cheerfully. "No, Hikari's fine, but she's not here right now. Mom and Dad let her take off from school because she had something to do. But I'm glad you called. Meet me at the soccer field in," there was a pause during which Daisuke guessed he was checking the clock, "fifteen minutes. I've got these big plans for us today."
"For us?" Daisuke repeated blankly. "At the soccer field? But – Taichi, it's raining."
But the older boy was apparently not listening to the younger's complaints, because he refused to hang up until he had Daisuke's confirmation that he would meet him at the field. Eventually, he agreed, bracing himself for a grueling afternoon of soccer in the pouring rain.
"Well, at least you have something to do now," Chibimon tried to cheer him up.
"Yeah, I guess," Daisuke agreed with a sigh. "Although playing in the rain with Taichi is not my idea of a totally fun afternoon."
It wasn't that Daisuke didn't like Taichi. He did. He greatly admired the older boy's social skills and loved being around him. And it wasn't that Daisuke didn't think Taichi had great soccer playing abilities, because everyone knew that he most definitely did. Tai lived, breathed, ate, and drank soccer, and therein lay most people's problems with him. Besides digimon, it appeared that one of the few things the boy cared about was a silly little game in which a handful of players kicked a strange ball into a net. Naturally, that gave some people (especially those not involved with things relating to digimon) a low opinion of him.
The opposite was true for Daisuke. He thought Tai's dedication admirable, and his single mindedness to be a sign of pure genius. Of course, he was partially influenced by the fact that Daisuke almost completely lived and breathed soccer as well, but that's hardly the point.
At this particular moment, as he had done many times before, however, Daisuke was beginning to discover why some people might consider such focus to be a bad thing. Playing in the rain on an afternoon after having a bad day was not exactly what Daisuke considered to be a good time. However, since Taichi had hardly given him the option of refusing, he found himself gathering his soccer equipment and raincoat and trudging down to the soccer field.
As he passed the calendar, he couldn't help but sigh as he noticed a particular circled square.
"You're five minutes late!" Taichi shouted over the sound of the rain. The soccer field was completely deserted, and he was dressed, not as Daisuke expected in his soccer clothes, but in his green school uniform (without the tie, as usual), and he held a dark gray umbrella over himself.
Daisuke peered from under his soaking, dripping hair, which was now flattened against his face. He took one look at the deserted, puddle-filled soccer field and his dry and exasperatingly neat mentor and something snapped.
He was soaking wet, dressed in yellow rain coat and carrying a bag full of his soccer gear. His feet were soaked inside his sneakers from stepping in a few puddles. It was raining. It was pouring. It was cold. He was wet.
He had overslept that morning, had burnt toast for breakfast, been forced to wear a hideous shirt, not been able to see Hikari or hang out with Ken, had been given no reasonable explanation for the disappearance of either, ignored by Takeru, and now…
And now Taichi was looking as neat as Taichi could possibly look and dry while he was soaking wet and cold and angry.
Yes, angry. Definitely angry. It just wasn't fair. The day had been so bad, and for no reason, and he couldn't even think straight. Anger was the emotion that was dominating him at the moment. Raw, red, outraged, motivated, unfocused anger.
And to top it all of it would be his birthday in two days. His twelfth birthday. He had helped to save the world only a few months before and now his twelfth birthday, that first birthday of any Chosen to be held since the defeat of Belial Vamdemon.
So, with all of these indignities and stresses piling up, Daisuke did something he had rarely, if ever, done before. Especially with Tai.
He got angry. Very angry.
He heaved his bag of soccer gear over his head and tossed – no, that's too benign of a word – heaved, threw, hurled, yes, hurled the heavy object at the older boy.
"Damn it, Taichi!" he shouted with that anger evident in his voice. He was quite angry now, and his voice reverberated despite the rain.
Taichi looked shocked for a moment, his brown eyes going wide as the bag crashed into his chest and caused him to fall in one of the larger puddles on the soccer field. Daisuke was stronger than one would predict, he was only nearly twelve years old, after all, and therefore possessing all the strength and energy of an adolescent boy, and with anger fueling the throw, Tai and the bag never had a chance.
"I'm soaking wet!" Daisuke shouted, unable to hold his emotions within for even one second longer. "And you drag me down here in the rain, the rain, Tai, so I can freeze my butt off and get dirty and you're just standing there looking all – all perfect, like you always do. And I just mess up, and this whole day just stinks and it's just not fair."
"Daisuke, I," Taichi began, but of course the younger boy wasn't going to let him finish the sentence. Oh, no, he'd just gotten started.
"Don't even start!" Daisuke interrupted. "I don't want to hear about how sorry you are, or how you didn't mean it that way or you didn't think that I thought that you wanted to play soccer in the rain and the mud. I just had the worse day of my entire life, and it just started getting better and then, bam!"
"Daisuke," Tai tried again, but no, Daisuke wasn't finished ranting. He seemed to have forgotten that the older boy was even there. Instead he continued ranting in the opposite direction, arms flailing about. Tai zoned out a moment as he got to his feet, shoving the heavy gym bag off his chest and brushing the mud from his uniform as best he could.
"-And no one even seems to care that I'm turning twelve in a few days," Daisuke finished after a few moments more of shouting. His endless energy seemingly finished, he even let a few angry tears drip from his eyes before he sank weakly into the ground, no longer caring much about dirt and mud and rain.
"Daisuke?" Taichi let him cry a few moments before interrupting, softly as possible so not to sharply jolt the boy's return to reality.
Daisuke didn't answer. He wiped his tears from his already rain-soaked face and sniffed, his nose having of course started to drip during the process.
"Look, I'm sorry," Taichi began awkwardly. "I didn't even think, I mean, I'm just sorry."
Taichi had never found his strength with words; it was, as previously mentioned, in soccer. Fortunately, Daisuke had returned to a state of mind in which he could realize this and shrugged.
"S'kay," he mumbled, wiping his nose again.
The older boy heaved a sigh, seeing that it was not 'S'kay' in the least bit. He knelt to the ground in front of him and offered this suggestion.
"Look, why don't we head home and then we can get cleaned up and maybe we'll go get something to eat, catch a movie, you know, whatever?"
Daisuke peered up at Taichi, his own brown eyes seeming much younger in that moment than the boy who had helped save the world a few weeks before. Taichi remembered that, when he was eleven and still been so young and suddenly it didn't seem so far away. He longed for those days.
But, for the moment, those days were gone, lost to him except in dreams and memories which returned at times like these.
Tai realized then that perhaps, not as much as changed as he had thought.
And then the not-so-little boy blinked those big brown eyes. "You sure?"
The older of the little boys nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. Come on. It'll be fun."
"Are you sure he'll like this? I'm afraid he'll be mad."
"Oh, shush," Miyako waved a dismissive hand at Ken's concerns. "He'll be thrilled we're throwing him a party and he won't suspect a thing."
"I know, but I'm just afraid he'll be mad. What if he doesn't like it?"
"Are you kidding?" Hikari laughed aloud at that statement. "Daisuke not like being the center of attention? He'll love it."
"He'll probably be surprised as anything," Takeru agreed. "A few days before his birthday and he thinks we totally forgot."
"That is if Taichi doesn't blow the secret," Patamon added from somewhere near the ceiling where he was helping his partner to hang a balloon. Takeru, using the more conventional method of a ladder, frowned.
"I hope he doesn't."
"If he does, I'll personally smack him myself," Hikari agreed from where she was arranging the presents on the table. "Tailmon, is that cake cool enough yet?"
"Seems like it is," Tailmon replied from the kitchen with a slight frown in her voice. "Hawkmon and Wormmon already sampled the icing."
"Tasted the perfect temperature to me," Hawkmon agreed, sauntering from the kitchen with a smile spread across his face.
"We didn't really eat very much," Wormmon added in a slightly apologetic tone.
Ken shrugged, unconcerned. "I'm sure it can be recovered."
Miyako looked a bit more concerned, but said nothing. Instead she glanced at her watch. "I wonder where Iori is. He's late."
"I just hope Taichi shows up late right now," Tailmon said as she exited the kitchen with the cake carried carefully on a platter in front of her.
"Me too." Hikari glanced around the room. "I hope everyone else gets here or the surprise won't be as great."
"They'll be here, don't worry," Miyako encouraged her Jogress partner. The doorbell rang. "Oooh, I'll bet that's Iori!"
A moment later she had bounded across the room and flung open the door. "Iori-kun! Jyou-san! About time!"
"Hello Miyako," Jyou and Iori said in unison.
"Are we late?" Iori questioned. "We hurried to get here."
"I would have been earlier, but unfortunately the train was delayed and then the rain made it hard to walk," Jyou apologized. "Did we miss the surprise?"
"No, it's all right, you're actually early. Mimi and Sora aren't here yet either," Hikari assured them.
"Or Yamato," Takeru added from his post on the ladder. "Though he said he wasn't sure if he'd be able to make it."
"Rehearsals?" Iori questioned.
"Yes. He wasn't sure if he could get out of them."
"Well, there's still work to do," Miyako reminded them. "Iori, you can help me bring the refreshments, though I think Armadimon should stay here."
Iori wisely agreed. His partner's appetite was legendary. Armadimon appeared slightly insulted, but shrugged. He'd get food later, he was certain of it.
"The decorations are almost finished, but I still have to hang this banner," Takeru informed Jyou. "Think you can help?"
"Well, being tall has to have some uses," the blue-haired boy joked with a smile.
Hikari finished arranging the pile of presents. "I sure hope we got him enough things," she fretted as she moved one brightly colored box slightly to the left.
"I think we got him enough for four people," Tailmon frowned slightly, but she was only joking.
"Here comes Mimi and Sora," Ken announced from the window, where he had taken up the position of Lookout. It was an important position, not only because it forewarned the guests when the guest of honor was to arrive, but also because it kept him out of the way of the other preparations.
"Oh great," Hikari cheered, peering out past the boy. "Now it really looks like a party. I hope Mimi brought that American music I wanted."
Daisuke stepped out of the bathroom, drying his hair. "That feels better," he stated, having changed into clean clothes for the second time in the last two hours.
Taichi, still slightly muddy and wet but still much cleaner than Daisuke had been, nodded, a pleased expression on his face. "You look better, too," he agreed.
"You sure you don't want to take a shower before we go?" Daisuke asked. "My parents won't be home for a bit, and they wouldn't mind anyway."
"No, it's all right. I've got to stop home and get something anyway," Taichi assured him. He was standing, apart from the furniture, in the kitchen, trying to look a little less dirty amidst the clean surroundings.
"Okay," the younger boy agreed with a shrug.
Yamato checked his watch as he dashed out of the train car. In his haste, he didn't notice the direction his feet were taking, and therefore ran right into a young man with a dark red mop of hair.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized. "What a sec – Koushiro?"
"Yamato?" the redhead questioned. "You'd better hurry, we're almost late for the party."
"What are you doing here?" the tall blond asked. "In the train station I mean."
"I was endeavoring to locate the precise gift for the birthday boy," Koushiro responded in his usual verbose manner. Yamato took a moment to translate his words into plain language and nodded.
"Find something?" he asked.
"Yes," the other replied. "But now's not the occasion for frivolous words. We must make haste!"
Yamato couldn't agree more – after he understood.
Hikari ushered the last of the partygoers into the room and switched the lights off.
"We just spotted them coming up the streets," she whispered in the darkness. "You got here just in time."
"All right, everyone, quiet!" Sora commanded. They heard the elevator ding at the end of the hallway and immediately everyone fell silent, dodging behind the sofa or wherever they could quickly jump out at the surprised entrant.
From the hallway they could hear Daisuke and Taichi talking as the elder boy stalled in the hallway for a moment, tying his shoes, and nearly stumbling on the rug.
"You sure you okay, Tai?" they could hear Daisuke ask from the hallway.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he replied. "Get the door for me, would ya?"
"Playing spoiled princess?" the younger boy jokingly questioned as he pushed the door open. "Hey, it's dark!"
"Hikari must have gone out," Taichi replied, playing confused. "I think the light switch is on your right."
Unwittingly, Daisuke flipped the switch and was immediately surrounded by what appeared to be at least a dozen people jumping at him and shouting: "Surprise!"
"What?" the boy stammered, at once at a loss for words. "A – party?"
"Surprise!" Miyako cheered.
"Happy Birthday!" Takeru chimed in.
Daisuke blinked. "Birthday? But – my birthday isn't for –."
"Two days. We know," Taichi assured him. "That makes it even more of a surprise, doesn't it?"
"You guys – threw me a surprise party?" His big brown eyes were filling with tears again, but these he quickly wiped away. "Then – that's where you both were all day?"
"Yup," Takeru grinned a huge grin. "Come in, have some cake!"
"Sorry for the dishonesty," Ken apologized. "But Miyako said you wouldn't mind."
"Mind? Oh, man, no, I don't mind at all! Wow!"
"Did you say cake?" Chibimon piped up from his position in his partner's arms.
"Yes. Cake!" Sora called into the kitchen. "Cake? Cake!"
"Coming!" came a muffled voice from the kitchen, and a moment later, Hikari emerged, carrying the cake in question. "Sorry," she apologized in a hurried voice. "I had to fix the icing."
Daisuke peered out from his bedroom at the night sky.
"Daisuke?" Chibimon questioned from the bed, where he was feeling slightly sick from eating too much cake. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Daisuke replied, turning away from the window. "I was just wondering which lucky star was mine."
"What do you mean?"
The boy shrugged. "I never thought they'd throw me a party," he stated, a large amount of awe still evident in his voice. He scanned the numerous gifts piled on the bed next to his digimon. "I guess that means I must have a lucky star."
"You got a lot of neat stuff," Chibimon agreed. He hopped across the bed. "There's the soccer stuff from Taichi."
Daisuke nodded. "Yeah. Figures he'd give me soccer stuff. And Koushiro gave me a great game for the computer."
"This is a really nice hat. Who gave that to you?"
"Takeru. Of course," Daisuke observed. It laid next to the present from Iori, who had given him a small action figure from one of his favorite animés. The figure, dressed in traditional martial arts clothes, struck a ferocious fighting pose as it prepared to face its invisible miniature enemies.
There was a book from Jyou, One Thousand And One Sports Injuries And How To Treat Them, a stylish pair of sunglasses from Mimi, and a blank book from Sora that he only assumed must be a journal. The outside was covered in a bright floral design, and the cover was leather.
Miyako had given him two presents, one as a joke, and one more serious. The gag gift was a bottle of glass cleaner and a rag, for the care of his ever-present goggles, and the other was a t-shirt with a loud fire and lightning design that loosely matched that of his Digital World Jacket.
Ken's present was formal and personal at the same time, as Daisuke felt much of his relationship with Ken could be defined. He had given him a photo album, which was empty, and a few photographs of Chibimon and Ken himself.
'So you can always remember,' the shy dark haired boy had explained, and Daisuke felt the need to immediately burst out that he would never ever come close to forgetting any of it.
And Hikari, who had of course had the idea to begin with, had given him a silver necklace. The pendant which dangled from the outside was a round shaped locket, and inside was a very nice rendering of the symbols of friendship and courage.
'You can take them out if you want,' Hikari had explained, 'and put in photos or something. I just thought you might want something that symbolized it.'
Daisuke knew next to nothing about jewelry, but he knew that this object was nice and well beyond the budget of a twelve-year old girl.
He had been so astonished that he'd blurted out the first thing that had come to his mind which had thankfully not been "this must have cost a fortune," but more like "you shouldn't have!" Which, unlike most people uttering that phrase, he actually meant it.
But Hikari, like most people on the receiving end of that phrase, just shrugged and said that of course he did deserve it and it was no trouble at all.
"Daisuke?" Chibimon's question brought him back to reality, and Daisuke realized he had been lost in his memories for several minutes.
"It really wasn't such a bad day after all, was it?"
Gah! Lame ending! Lame plot! Underdeveloped one-shot with major fluff! I apologize to all of you that read that and were hoping for something good or at least very sappy. I wanted to have it out on Christmas, so it was a bit rushed.
Don't feel bad, it's probably the first and only one-shot story I'll ever do! :-P
I wanted to write something semi-fluffy and pro-Daisuke, but this was the best I could do. Originally, the plot called for some romance, but since I'm even more worse at that than I am at fluff. View it as romance, view it as friendship, whatever. I just wanted something Daisuke-focused.
author heads off to write something that doesn't suck. Maybe my name.