'Daijobu?'

'Betsuni. Nan demo nai yo.' I shook my head.

'I love you.' I smiled and then the kids came bounding in through the front door. Nothing more was said.

'Attention! Can I have minna-san's attention please?' We all faced our respective senior leader as he hoisted his glass. 'Minna, I would just like to say the Holdiays would be awfully lonely without friends like you.' A glance from Takenouchi in his direction. Was it hunger? Her folded hands resting in her lap trembled. I smirked.

'HEAR! HEAR!' Daisuke interjected.

'Merry Christmas.'

'Merry Christmas,' came the room's response. We downed our alcoholic beverages a little too quickly.

'Yamato and I are getting a divorce.' Sora burst out. A fog of silence blanketed us. Yamato squeezed his eyes shut and shifted in his chair making sure his back faced his ex-wife-to-be. Taichi sat in contemplative silence before reaching for the fresh chianti bottle across from him. He poured himself a glass and said nothing. Jyou's glasses slid down the bridge of his nose and Koushiro looked as if he wanted to melt into the floor. A few people cleared their throats and the sounds of utensils tapping against the expensive china as guests continued to eat. Mimi laughed nervously and busied herself at the stereo system.

'So who wants to hear some Matchbox 20?' I dabbed my lips with the corner of my linen napkin and took my clutch bag.

'Excuse me.' I got up and left the party room for the ladies'. I sat in one of the stalls for five minutes waiting for the two giggly waitresses to leave. When they finally did I was alone. Thank the gods. I plopped down on one of the skirted stools in front of the vanity, but I made no attempt to fix my smudged lipstck, or reapply my blush. And no I didn't cry. I'd cried enough. I thought I'd left behind that disappointed 17-year-old girl in the Odaiba Gakuen sailor suit. But there she was, staring right back at me. I lost all concept of time and had no idea how long I stewed and was roused by someone pounding on the door. 'Miyako?' It was Ken. He joggled the doorknob, but I locked it.

'Miya? Are you in there? You've been in there for 20 minutes!' I still didn't answer. 'Nan da yo, Miya? Please come out. You're scaring me.'

'Usotsuki.'

'What?' That was Mimi, and I heard other approaching footsteps.

'You liar.' This time a little louder. I walked over to the door and slid the business card under the door.

'Nani ka- ara...?' Mimi was the one who picked up the card. Now I can't be sure what exactly happened, but I pieced together that Hikari saw it and immediately turned tail and ran back to the party room. Ken suddenly became mute, and when Taichi grabbed the card he began screaming. At who, I'm not sure. The party was cut short and guests left one by one. Wallace ran into the manager's office and went home via the Digital gate through the computer. Mimi gave me a ride home back to Tamachi, and Ken came home a little after 2 A.M. I left a pillow and blanket for him on the sofa. But neither of us slept. We felt for the sake of sanity, the children should spend the day at Jun and Shin's opening up presents and partying. They didn't seem to care really and that was the important part. That they know nothing- for a while at least. It was the quietest Christmas ever, and Ken and I spent the better part of the day avoiding one another.

'Miya, I swear. It was a one-time thing only.'

'Really? And I wonder how many times you did it to her during that "one time"?' It went to hell from there. We were up all night screaming. Divorce was loosely tossed back and forth, during our more heated confrontations and civil discussions. The next morning we cried and held eachother, no it was not forgiveness but capitulation. We still loved eachother and we didn't want the kids see us apart so we resolved to bite our lips and ride it out. Over the next couple of months Ken treaded on eggshells around me, and I didn't trust him an inch. Marriage counseling seemed to be paying off, because we were more responsive to eachother and even laughed occasionally. It was going smoothly again and I was starting to feel some of the guilt because of Yamato's goddamned phone call! I was so tempted to tell Ken and come clean about it, but in the end he would only get annoyed with me just because I yelled at Yamato and hung up on him. Ken would not understand, because he didn't know about how I *used* to feel about Yamato. I don't want him accusing me of something I had been thinking about doing when we had been going out. I'm a hypocrite, I know.

White Day. Or as so many of you Americans and Europeans call it, Valentine's Day. What with the launch of the site and still so much work to do, I decided to take an early lunch. I treated myself to one of my favourite restaurants and emersed myself in one of my Agatha Christie novels, then went for a stroll in the park. The sakura were already in blossom. I could image how gorgeous it was during the Christmas lights viewing. Maybe next year. I stopped to dawdle on an arched bridge over the creek and enjoy myself, because I couldn't remember the last time I spent a day out in the sun.

'Yknow when you're young and stupid, you long for the day it would happen. And when it does you you blame yourself.' I whirled around to see Ambassador Yagami standing at the end of the bridge, hands shoved into his trenchcoat pockets.

'Taichi....'

'So how it goes, Miyako?' He joined me.

'Don't go blaming yourself, Taichi. They did it to themselves.' Taichi and I continued taking in the Norman Rockwell-esque winter scenery before us.

'I do blame myself Miyako. But not for what you think.'

'Try me.'

'I blame myself for not saying anything sooner. I blame myself for being a teen-aged, immature asshole.'

'All teen-age boys are immature assholes. It's their God-given right before entering the workforce.'

'*He* wasn't.'

'Yes he was. He loved you like a brother and that, it seems, was a lie. Because if he did, he would have backed off of Sora. And she's just as bad. For her utter ignorance and impatience, that is.'

Taichi faced me. 'She was patient long enough! Too long, maybe....'

'Taichi,' I lay my hand on his, 'if she was so in love with you, respected you like she always claimed she has, then she should have waited. Just like I waited. And in the beginning, for Ken and me, it was worth the wait.' Taichi looked at me intently. I can't blame him for his cynicism- he's been divorced. He's been through the mill. He knows all about joint custody, visitations, alimony, and all of that depressing crap. But I also knew that neither he or his ex-wife had extramarital affairs. I knew that he was quite soured on women and ulitimately preferred the company of his son, Agumon, or perhaps some foreign diplomat he'd been at wit's end with at the negotiations table.

'You can't draw blood from a stone Taichi. It's not worth it, they're not worth it. I don't even know what the hell's so great about them? The no-fashion sense fashion designer, and the space cadet! Y'know... when you think about it, it actually suits them! "Oooh! Don't you know, I hate my mother so much that I'll try and make clothes! Because I refuse to step into an ikebana shop!"' I mocked Sora mercilessly. 'Well I hated my parents too, I was the youngest of four and was perpetually ignored, but was finally given the attention I deserved after I saved my family's sorry asses from Belial Vamedmon. You don't see me speed dialing my therapist every time my mother calls me up! Ever heard of taking it with a grain of salt?!

And *THAT* one? Oh shit! "The world owes me because my parents divorced and seperated me and my brother!" The world owes you shit rock star. If you had spent less time being angry and zoning out, maybe you would understand why people do what they do! But this is not a perfect world.' I returned to my spot beside Taichi. 'All I could say to you is, do everything you can to not get involved with them. Let them spill. I don't know why people like us constantly have to make excuses for people like them.' Taichi began to walk away.

'Because Miyako,' he paused in mid-step, 'we need to.' And he left me there wondering. Little did I know, Taichi wasn't the only one listening to my tirade.

I came home late. Extremely late, which was very uncharacteristic of me. The kids had already been tucked in, and Hawkmon and Wormmon were dead to the world on the sofa. Ken was sitting at the kitchen table reading this morning's paper for what must have been the 50th time. I walked in, took of my coat and shoes and entered the family room. 'Miyako!' Ken rushed over to me. He wasn't angry, just scared. I can't remember a time he was angry with me. Frustrated, yes, over some trivial thing but never angry. It was as if he had no right to be angry with me, still tripping over the time he was Digimon Kaizer. You're wrong Ken, you have every right to be angry with me.

'Miyako, you scared the hell out of me. Where were you? What were you doing?' Ken fell into the deep cushions of one of the armchairs. I smiled and sat on his lap. Then I kissed him. Gentle and sweet like our first. Then I got up from his lap.

'Oyasumi nasai.' Then I went to bed- in the guest room. I breathed a sigh of relief before drifting off, just as Ken did when he finally opened the fist over his heart to find my wedding band. It was over.

When I moved out, we made it very clear to Kaori and Taro that they're parents were no longer together because it was our descision and it had nothing to do with them. The important thing was that we still loved them and they could see me anytime they wanted. We both agreed that they should still live with Ken because he kept the house on account that his parents bought it for us. I took the more expensive car- our brand new mini-van- joint custody with the kids staying with me weekends and summer holidays if they so wished, and alimony would be paid in monthly installments. I moved back to Odaiba and rented a spacious loft, making sure there was enough room to accomodate two older children. I immersed myself in my work more than ever, not because I needed the money but because it kept me distracted.

Then one particular Monday evening as I dropped Kaori and Taro back at Ken's, I watched as they waved back to me at the front door and it opened revealing Hikari happily ushering them in. I hadn't still spoken to her, and I didn't exactly hate her but I just wanted to know why. I don't think her intentions were taking anything away from me or taking my place. I like to think I know my Jogress partner better. Maybe in the end she could help ease the darkness within Ken, because she's dangerously close to it as well. Maybe in the end it was for the best, but until I was ready I couldn't face her. Not alone at least. I was driving back to my loft when I just remembered that I still had to pick up that fish-flavoured broth for the udon I was planning to make for my parents when they came over for dinner.

I hastily parked my car in the lot behind the supermarket and ran in, grabbing the last plastic tote from the rack beside the automatic doors. Loading it with the broth packets, skim milk, tofu, a few extra large bars of raspberry-filled dark chocolate, and instant Firnee mix I fished out my wallet from my purse and was ready to get on line, when I saw that I probably would be spending the better part of the night at the supermarket. The shortest queue was on register 22, and I could barely see it over this tall gentleman's shoulder. Regretting that it didn't occur to me to bring my Martin Cruz novel with me I was starting to get a little peeved. I was aimlessly looking around when a stack of freshly unwrapped magazines caught my eye. It was the Japanese edition of People and the headline read:

'18 'Till We Die: YAMATO Is Here to Stay'

My jaw promptly hit the floor. I saw four very familiar looking men, their hair with the barest traces of grey but still relatively shaggy and in front of their eyes. Older and wiser, The Teen-Age Wolves were truly no more. And YAMATO was born. Cute. And a good idea, a play off the leader's name and conveniently was the ancient appelation of Japan. Yutaka still wore those electric blue horn-rimmed glasses, Akira slow as ever, and Takahashi was on his third wife. Yamato grew his hair out and started smoking again, he always worked better under actual pressure. Sony, Capitol, and Columbia were in a bidding war to be their label, I read. But the band was making no announcements as who they will be releasing under, but were given full control over the production of their new CD. Also that their studio will was at an undisclosed location. Undisclosed location.

'Hey lady,' said the clerk rousing me from my daydream. I hadn't realized that it was my turn to pay. 'You gonna buy that, or not?' I dumped the magazine with the rest of my groceries on the belt. It bothered me for the next couple of weeks, so much so that one of my co-workers had to wake me from spacing out in front of my computer on a few occasions. It was now early June and it was shaping up to be one of the hottest summers in Japan's history. We had decided to revamp the site when the boss- a rather rotund, burly, and loud Texan who went by the name of MacNamera- hired a new graphics desginer to keep up with the latest trends, as well as the competition. One of the things I love about senority is that the boss gives you much leeway. I brought Koushiro in on the project so we can test out his new software he and Tentomon had been developing. VTCXHTML was the brand new computer lingo that was making templating simpler and automatic so that webdesigners, or a kid just putting up a page wouldn't have to spend so many tedious hours typying out tags. It also saved me from early arthritis.

I found myself driving round and round Odaiba after I was let off work early, and I didn't particularly feel like going home. I stopped on Rainbow Bridge to look at the city flickering like a sworm of fireflies, just hovering over the ocean. And then it hit me. Well, actually it was more of a hunch. But if you recall the old adage: "The more things change, the more they stay the same" you'll see how true it is. If I remebered correctly, it was just a short drive from Restaurant Row, and if you just make a left and go south for about three blocks the stinging aroma of salt and fish will attack your senses. It'll only take a few minutes to adapt and be sure to park your car immediately, there's not much asphalt left due to the fact that you're at the seaport. Prime fishing spots, and tourist attractions such as the ferry rides. I like them, I sit outside on the decks during the winter even. And now onto the seedier side of the docks. I have little doubt that that grunge club went out of style, or business for that matter. The teen-agers still have raves, they're just as alcohol saturated and chock-full of the newest smart drugs. But it was quiet as the grave tonight. Koeda-san had closed up shop for today to get his monthly expenses in order, just as always. Despite the desertion of the area, I knew I stood out like pink flame- Mimi gave me this pink skirt suit for my birthday- and I walked around the club via the alleyway and of course the office's back door and window was flung wide open. The humidity that week was stifiling, and Koeda-san was still the skinflint. He wouldn't even put the stationery fan at its highest setting- if he would put it on at all!

'Koban wa.' I was sure to raise my voice pitch an octave.

'Koban wa.' He hadn't bothered to look up from his ancient adding machine. 'Eh....!' But it was too late. Behind the club, and various other buildings, are a set of garages. You can rent these spaces for storage, and on some occasions T.V. studios will rent the whole lot for filming. But for the majority of the time, they sat idle and empty. Save for one. If you listened hard enough during the daytime hours you'd probably hear a great din of music, usually out of sync or just roughly pieced together. Shouts, swearing, various loud talk and raucous laughter. A high-school garage band? Well, isn't that how they all start out? I invited myself in, that puke-green badly rusted and warped metal and glass door slammed behind me, only to have the lock disengage and the door remained slightly ajar. And sometimes things never change. Up the wrought iron spiral staircase, and the sounds grew louder. Familiar, and at the same time strange.

And what have we here? A brand new door! Stainless steel and plexiglass. Why so elaborate? Of course it was unlocked, why shouldn't it be? After all no one knew about this place. I felt the draft of the centralized airconditioning waft up my skirt from the vents embedded in the floor. There was wine coloured plush carpeting. A gleaming chrome railing lined the landing, along both walls were a pair of black leather sofas. Privacy was further assured by the thick off-white shades pulled over the windows. Cartons of Chinese take-away littered the glass and lacquer coffee table along with sheet music, last week's newspaper, and assorted mail. The actual recording booth was partitioned off by plaster walls and sound-proof glass that was recently constructed. It was a crapmed room just big enough to fit the band, their instruments, the mixingboards, and various pieces of hardware. The guys were sitting around the outside of the booth chattering, smoking, and jamming. Getting a new feel for eachother, because it's just as important for the band to harmonize just like the music.

'Oy, oy! For the sake of sanity, can we try to play the same fucking song?' Yamato said looking up from his jazz bass. Takahashi immediately responded with his signature goofy laugh.

'We can put this shit on the album! I know it's just a bunch of noise, but we could release it under "alternative". Now that's my style!' He twirled a drumstick between his fingers before slamming it down on a cymbal.

'You don't have any style, Takahashi-kun." I said from my place leaning on the railing. I kicked the door shut gently.

'Miyako-chan!'

'Oy, Miya!'

'Miyako!' Were they happy to see me? Maybe. I almost regretted wearing that outfit when Akira whirled me round off the floor. And deliberately let his hand slide up the back of my thigh. Yamato stayed at his seat. No, he wasn't upset. No, he wasn't exactly joyus. He was more at ease.

'Tadaima.'

'Okairi nasai.'

And I still think that picture they used on the CD liner was stupid. That picture of us at his beach house, Yamato smiling smugly at nothing in particular, and me sprawled across his lap having fallen asleep about an hour earlier. Sora snapped that photo for revenge over the one I took of her changing into her dress and gave to Taichi before their nuptuals. But then again, it's the only way I can fall asleep.

~OWARI~

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