6A/N: So... this is a reply to a prompt given to me, asking about Koumi and their engagement party. Just a few disclaimers: 1) I don't own Digimon, 2) this is AU, and 3) I'm not even sure it makes a lot of sense. The writing is very... raw (as in, I didn't edit this much, if at all.) But... enjoy?
xXx
Hers and Mine are the Same
xXx
"Mimi, please go to sleep."
His reply was a hmph, curt and shrill, like the squeak of an eraser abrasively passing over paper. Mimi continued to kneel on the floor, moving slips of paper on the carpet like pieces on a chessboard. Koushiro sat up from the mattress.
"Mimi," he repeated.
She shushed him.
"Five minutes, Kou," she muttered.
He was tempted to roll his eyes. This, he imagined, must have been what it felt like when she called him and he was engrossed in programming. For that, he couldn't feel too annoyed at the rebuff.
"You hired that event planner for a reason."
"I didn't know he'd be entirely inept," she replied. She moved another piece, paper rustling over the bedroom rug. Koushiro peeked over the edge of the bed. He leaned into Mimi's hair, damp from her recent shower, exuding some tropical floral scent, and kissed her lightly on the head. His eyes glanced down at the floor.
"And you are keeping Taichi separate from Sora and Yamato... why, pray tell?"
"Because it'll be awkward. Our engagement dinner is not going to be awkward."
"I have it under very reliable sources that Taichi will be bringing a date to the party."
Mimi spun around, wet hair whipping him in the lip. He grimaced.
"What!" she shrieked. "He didn't tell me that!" Her honey-colored eyes gazed frantically at the map of paper strips neatly grouped on the floor. "Now my seating arrangements..." She never finished. "I'm going to kill him!"
"I don't advise that," said Koushiro, calmly. "Especially if you're curious about his date." He would never admit it himself, but the mystery was intriguing.
She relented only slightly, stiff shoulders dropping a degree.
"But my seating arrangements..."
Koushiro backed up to the headboard, summoning her toward him with a beckoning finger. After some hesitation, she followed, curling up beside him, head on his shoulder.
"It needs to be perfect, Kou," she muttered. "I can't abide anything less."
He chuckled and wrapped an arm around her.
"Mimi," he began, "I suggest you choose your battles wisely. This is only the engagement party. What will you do come the wedding day?"
She groaned and snuggled into him, hiding her face in his shirt.
"God, don't even remind me."
xXx
Koushiro leaned hands on the bathroom counter, head bent over the bowl of the sink. He was exhausted. One would think on his path to the altar that the most laborious task would be bending the knee, but clearly, he had misjudged his trials. Already, he had lost track of the people he had shaken hands with and greeted, people who had offered him congratulations, and the party had officially started but twenty minutes ago. His stomach grumbled. He hadn't snuck in one single hors d'oeuvres.
The door to the men's room opened with a creak. Koushiro's head shot up. Dark eyes caught Taichi's reflection in the mirror. Whatever surprise the diplomat bore was quickly effaced with mischief. One eyebrow lifted. One corner of the mouth curled.
Taichi sidled up beside him and planted an elbow on his shoulder, pretending to read his watch.
"You know you have a time limit before Mimi starts wondering where you ran off," he said.
Koushiro grunted, shrugging off Taichi's arm.
"I require recuperation," he replied, tartly. "Mimi understands that."
Taichi squinted at him, and, after some thought, pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket, offering it to him. Koushiro eyed the offering with acidic skepticism. Since when did Taichi become a dandy?
"You also are sweating like a pig," he said. The handkerchief was shoved into Koushiro's hand. "Though, it is like a hundred degrees out there."
Koushiro nodded his silent agreement as he dabbed the cloth at his forehead. Mimi had chosen a rustic villa for their engagement party—outdoors, flocked with flowers, the summer air thick and heavy with perfume and the addling scent of champagne. At least the bathrooms were indoors, and there was an art gallery in the villa itself, where many party guests took repose to get out of the sun. Frowning, he imagined Mimi running about in her heels, jewelry jangling, trying to be a perfect host while also trying to make sure not one object was out of order. When Mimi noticed a wasp bothering Hikari, she jumped on the scene immediately. Somehow, whether via magical powers of persuasion or otherwise, she caught the bug in her empty flute of champagne and scurried off, shaking it free far away from guests.
"You don't suspect that this is... too much, do you?"
Koushiro hadn't wanted to ask the question. One, Taichi was already taking a piss by then, and he rather disliked conversation over bathroom business, and two, the doubt felt ominous, as if to possess it foretold ill fortune for their impending wedding day.
Taichi looked puzzled at first, and a red alert blinked in Koushiro's mind. He had asked the one person in their group who was uncommitted for relationship advice.
"For Mimi?" answered Taichi. "No. For you? Yes."
Koushiro twisted his lips. He resumed his former position, bent over the sink.
"I appreciate your honesty," he said, though it took effort to wheedle it through his teeth. "Mimi's standards for this are high. Everyone, I think, is aware of that. I am painfully aware of that."
"But...?"
"I can't help but think she is being... overzealous."
The infamous raised eyebrow appeared again. Koushiro frowned.
"Everyone knows Mimi means business when she throws a party—any party—," said Taichi. "But have you ever thought that she wants this to be perfect because of you?"
Koushiro balked. He went so far as to put a hand over his chest.
"I am hardly perfection," he stammered.
Taichi crossed his arms.
"Look, I'm not going to pull a Mimi and get all golden and doe-eyed on you, Koushiro."
"Please, spare me the image," he interrupted.
Taichi hissed at him.
"But you need to stop thinking you're less than what Mimi thinks you are. Show some pride. Your fiancée is micromanaging about a hundred people and about fifty staff, so..." He shrugged. "Play along. Just for a few hours. It won't kill you." He washed his hands, and Koushiro held his handkerchief out to him, the token to be returned.
"Dude, that has your sweat all over it."
Koushiro bristled.
"You cannot be one to complain about receiving an item coated in perspiration. If I recall, back when we roomed in university, I had asked you for a pair of socks to borrow and you gave me filth."
"I only wore them once to a practice!"
Koushiro grunted, but seeing as Taichi had folded his arms, the dampened hanky would have to remain in his possession. Pleased, Taichi led the way out of the restroom.
"You never introduced me to your date," Koushiro said, following him back outdoors. "I should like to tell her some choice anecdotes about you."
Taichi laughed.
"Okay, Koushiro," he allowed. He straightened his suit jacket, which might have been an attempt to flaunt his height. Unbelittled, Koushiro kept his pace. "Just wait until your wedding day when I give you one hell of a toast."
Koushiro stopped, and Taichi overtook him down the gallery hall, laughter echoing.
Damn you, Yagami.
xXx
Upon his return outdoors, Koushiro knew something had gone amiss, but visual evidence yielded nothing out of the ordinary. He could no longer differentiate between people's friendly chatter and the buzzing of insects. The air had lost a distinct chime. He wandered back to the last spot he and Mimi had shared and found her missing. The same guests were still there, but she was not, and information on her whereabouts was inconsistent.
"Oh, I think she went that way," said one, pointing left.
"I think you're mistaken," said another, glancing right. "She went that way."
"No," interjected a third. "She went in that direction."
It took all of Izzy's will to kindly interrupt with a "Thank you" before going on his way.
For a moment he considered the possibility of Mimi playing a ruse on him, but on such an important occasion he thought it beneath her. He ran into Sora and Yamato, who were joined by Jyou and his date.
"Have you seen Mimi?" he inquired.
"We've been wondering the same thing," said Sora. Her words were harmless, passing ponderings, but Koushiro's stomach tightened, as if someone had pinched it. "She came to us asking if we'd seen you, and when we didn't have an answer, she left."
"She was looking for me?"
"Yes."
"But I just went to the bathroom."
Yamato looked at him.
"Did you tell her that?"
"No."
"Maybe she's the one in the bathroom now," offered Jyou.
"Unlikely," said Sora. "Mimi doesn't go to the bathroom alone."
It was true. Unless she was at home or truly alone, Mimi did not go to a public or private restroom without an entourage. One would suspect the logic being safety in numbers, but she was far too cunning for that. Rather, it was a show of strength in numbers. Koushiro had asked her about the odd habit back in high school.
"We are not a group to pass through, Kou," she had explained. "You go around us. You view us in our entirety. You take us in."
"In other words, a force to be reckoned with," he had summarized.
She had smiled then, tapping him lightly on the nose with a finger.
"Smart guy."
The knot in Koushiro's stomach twisted tighter. He grimaced. If Mimi had wandered off alone somewhere, then she did not feel very strong.
"Will you excuse me?" he said. He nodded in farewell and pivoted on his heel, trying to peer through the clusters of people, hoping to find his one among many.
Any opportunity that arose—any face that turned to him in passing, any person who caught his eye—he asked the question starting to sear the insides of his skull.
"Have you seen Mimi?" which later transformed into, "Have you seen my fiancée?"
Eventually he was cornered by his parents and future in-laws, the latter of whom seemed particularly (though no less excitedly) agitated at the sudden disappearance of their daughter.
"Dinner is going to start soon!" cried Mrs. Tachikawa. "You both need to announce it to the guests!"
Koushiro opened his mouth, frustrated enough with his fruitless search to want to sputter a, "I highly doubt that'd be the least of our problems. Mimi is missing." Wisely, he glanced at his parents, and, as per their norm, they smiled, keeping quiet, radiating gentleness. He reconsidered.
"I've searched for her nearly everywhere. Any suggestions on where I should look next? Any leads?"
Mrs. Tachikawa had already zoned him out, muttering to herself about what they could do to stall the dinner gong. The senior Tachikawa, meanwhile, merely put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly, face firm but determined, as if to impart:
"You go find her, son. I believe in you."
Again, he turned pleading eyes to his parents. His mother, already being summoned by Mrs. Tachikawa for assistance, patted her son's cheek and whispered, "You know her best." She tapped her temple and mouthed, "Think."
He thought. All that knowledge stored in his brain, and yet it sat like silt, murking his memory, swamping up investigative channels. He pursued a path less congested, wove his way clear of the crowd, until he happened on quiet space. The party was behind him, cast in shadow and gold as the hours faded, as the sun dipped.
Ahead, on a terrace, there were benches, positioned conveniently for gazers. Koushiro stepped toward the nearest one, seeing an undulating wave of green spread out beneath the stone railing. He was about to sit when, as he stooped, he heard a light jingle, a tintinnabulum as soft as ladybug's wings. A veer of his head, and he froze mid-hunch, snared like a fly in honey. Mimi stared at him, eyes wide and unflinching.
"Kou?" she gasped. She got up from the bench beside and scuttled over to him, heels clicking, bangles jangling, the humidity of the air leaving a dewy glow on her exposed skin.
"Mi—"
"Where have you been!" She swatted him on the shoulder and his bony rear plopped onto the stone bench.
"I could ask you the same thing," he returned, unperturbed. He rubbed his shoulder, though Mimi relieved him of the duty. The same hand that had walloped had returned to soothe, massaging circles of comfort down into the socket.
"I was looking for you. You just left me."
"I went to the bathroom."
"And left me."
"Mimi." He looked at her. "A full bladder cannot be helped."
"Don't give me that excuse," she snapped. "You were so nervous driving up here you didn't drink a thing. So don't tell me you had to pee. What could you have peed? I drank your first and only flute of champagne."
She was right.
"It was... hot."
The heat wasn't the only reason behind their short separation, but Koushiro wouldn't trouble himself with complications. Knowing Mimi, even the simplest of emotions had the preinclination to turn elaborate. Though, Koushiro was beginning to wonder if any emotion, really, was simple.
She sighed, resting her chin on his shoulder.
"Okay, fine," she ceded. "It is pretty hot."
He patted her hand, surprised to find her skin still refreshing to touch. With the balminess, he'd have thought they'd both be sticky with sweat and smelling pungently of salt. Instead, the sweetness of summer remained, the warmth tempered as they sat together, reminding him of melting candles.
"And what is your excuse, Mimi?" he asked. It was meant to be a joke, but his monotone didn't exactly exude the refinements of affected speech. She hmphed lightly. "Here I find you deliberately sectioning yourself off from the party. You could have returned. I would have been there. Right where I left you. But you didn't."
He heard her exhale, the air leaving her nose in a snort. She squirmed a little, moving in a restless, itchy way, as if ants had marched their way up her back.
"You know that anxious feeling you get when you know you're forgetting something but you can't figure out what?"
The words hurtled out of her, making Koushiro want to breathe twice as much to make up for the air she lost speaking. He paused a moment, gaze turning outward, seeking answers in the landscape. He thought back to the feeling that had brought him there, looking for her, the subtle wave of panic flushing through him and through his arteries. It wasn't so much unpleasant as it was inconvenient, giving off a vague and disruptive impression that the world was no longer the same, and therefore, neither was he.
"I know it," he said. He looked at her. "Rather well, might I add."
Mimi continued to stare at him with wide, wounded eyes, pink lips pouting.
"That's how I felt when I couldn't find you." She poked him in the shoulder. "Of course I knew you probably went off to recharge and get a breather," she said, "and I knew you'd come back, but..." She sighed, brow furrowing as she scrounged for words. Almost instantly, her frown straightened. "I can't keep doing this," he heard her mutter. "I'll get wrinkles."
He chuckled.
"I happen to find a disgruntled expression on you to be quite fetching." He slipped a hand beside her cheek, palm cupping that perfect jawline, thumb stroking the most blooming of blushes.
"You won't be saying that when I look like Emperor Palpatine."
Despite the grumpiness in her tone, she smirked.
He laughed. He would never quite recover from Mimi's surprising proclivity for spitting out geek culture amid conversation. Of course, the habit was residual of spending so much time with him, and he still remembered when he was embarrassed to share that part of himself with her. Now, she could best him in sci-fi and fantasy trivia, and had proven so on many a trivia night at several local drinking establishments.
"You were saying something, Mimi," he said, steering their conversation back on course. The detour was pleasant, but he still held onto the open threads of her unfinished sentence.
"It's not that I feel like I can't do anything without you by my side," Mimi explained, able to pick up precisely where she left off.
He nodded, agreeing with her.
"But when you aren't—and I know the stress about this dinner plays a part in how I'm feeling right now—but in general, when you aren't, I feel... off. Like..." Her face scrunched up in thought. "Like... Like I'm walking and suddenly the heel on one of my pumps snaps off. Of course, I can still function fine with one good heel, but, you know, it's not... the same." She expelled an aggravated sigh, hands bunching into fists. "Am I even making sense?" she wondered, and the strain in her voice suggested she didn't even believe herself.
Koushiro took her hands in his own, laying them folded over his knee. He bought time stroking the ridges of her fingers, occasionally brushing against the jewel on the ring she now proudly wore in and out of his midst.
"You make perfect sense, Mimi," he assured her. "Just as you had no doubt of my needing to be alone to mentally regroup, I had no doubt of your social prowess standing solo amongst our many guests. But... despite being strong in our individual elements, there is strength too, in having you beside me. It's why I couldn't rest until I found you. It's why we're holding off dinner for more than a hundred people."
She giggled, tickled with the prospect that their joint effect could delay time, control events—even if it was just a dinner.
"How much longer do you think we should keep them waiting?" she teased.
Koushiro thought of Taichi, envisioning the ambassador demanding to be fed, pounding a fist on his table like a toddler. He grinned.
He checked his watch before looking back at her. She had leaned closer in the interim, face sly, one eyebrow suggestively raised. He cleared his throat, went to wiggle his tie. She caught the hand at his throat and tugged. He could feel the sunset on his face as she kissed him.
"Aha!"
The eureka zapped all pleasure. Begrudgingly, he and Mimi withdrew, and the latter took no time spinning toward the trespasser, standing from the bench and bracing her body for a fight. Calmly, Koushiro stood, knowing exactly who had discovered them.
Taichi stood a ways off, trailed by his date.
"I know this occasion is all about you two," he began, forgoing any introduction or apology, "but the invitation does explicitly say engagement dinner."
Mimi let her guard down, eyes sliding in Koushiro's direction. He opened his hand to her, and she took it gladly, her signature walk taking over as they stepped towards Taichi. One would think their fearless leader would stand his ground, but Koushiro noticed his foot slide back as Mimi kept walking. She stopped less than a foot away from him.
"Is that your date, Taichi?" she inquired.
He raised an eyebrow, caught off guard. Surely, Koushiro imagined, he had been expecting a reprimand of some sort.
"Uh... yeah." He stepped to the side to introduce his plus one, and Mimi released her hold on Koushiro's hand, looping arms with her newest acquaintance as she led the way back to the dinner.
"Have I got some stories about Taichi to tell you," he heard her say.
Instantly, Taichi protested, but Mimi ignored him. She sent a wink over her shoulder at Koushiro, and Koushiro followed behind Taichi's frantic wake, hands slipping into his trouser pockets, posture straightening, and chest expanding as he took in a breath, beaming with pride.
xXx
A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think?
Aveza