Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.

A New Leaf: Friendship

Scuffle

"Hey, wake up. Wake up, man." Yamato prodded Jou with his elbow, and the blue-haired boy cracked open a sleepy eye. Yamato, now dressed in his own clothes again, proffered a plate. "Toast," he said, by way of explanation. "Eat it."

"Ungh." Jou pushed himself up into a sitting position and took the plate, blinking. "What time is it?" he yawned.

"A quarter to eight," Yamato cheerfully replied. Jou's eyes flew open properly. "I figured you could do with a lie-in," his friend continued, drawing back the curtains at the window. Jou was scrambling out of bed, frantically muttering something about being late for school, but Yamato spun round and fixed him with a glare. "I did not make that toast so it could sit on your bedside table all day!" he snapped. "Now eat!"

"But I can't eat quickly, it gives me indigestion," Jou complained.

"So savour it slowly, and then do everything else fast," suggested the blond. Jou made a face, but nonetheless pulled the covers back over himself and began to eat.

"Arigato," he said once he had swallowed the first bite. Yamato shrugged.

"Least I could do. I owe you, man."

"Hey, anytime. Don't you have any of your books with you?" Jou asked suddenly.

"Nope." A careless tone.

Jou took another bite of toast and swallowed it hurriedly. "Do you have time to go and get them, do you think?"

"Don't think, don't care. I haven't got my books today and that's the end of it. If some ignorant sensei wants to shout him or herself hoarse over it, not my problem," Yamato said with practised indifference.

"It is if you get detention," Jou pointed out.

"Not the first time. Won't be the last. Now hurry up with that toast, or you'll be late - do you have a spare toothbrush? My teeth feel furry after all that peanut butter and jelly."

"There's an unopened packet on the left hand side of the bathroom cabinet," Jou directed him. "Have you had breakfast?"

Shrug. "I never do."

"You do in my apartment. Go make yourself some toast, right now," Jou said firmly. Yamato opened his mouth to protest, but Jou cut him off. "You owe me, right? I'm calling it in. Toast."

Yamato scowled and left the room. Jou swallowed the last of his own toast, and chuckled at the sound of Yamato banging around in the kitchen, mildly annoyed. The blue-haired boy checked his watch, groaned, and quickly began to dress himself.

* * * * *

Jou checked his watch, and groaned. Where was Yamato? They'd arranged to meet by the basketball courts after school, and the final bell had rung a full five minutes ago. Maybe he had picked up a detention for not having his books. Jou hoped not. He dreaded to think how worried Ishida-san must be, having not seen his son since their so-called argument the night before.

Without warning, a rushing figure nearly smacked straight into him, veering away only at the last moment, wild bush of hair bouncing as he ran. Jou blinked. Taichi hadn't looked at all happy. "Taichi! Hey, Tai!" Jou called after him, but his shouts were ignored, as were the shouts of the other students who had to scramble out of Tai's path. Wondering what had happened to make Taichi so angry, Jou looked around. Koushiro was standing near the front gate, and Jou waved to him, but Koushiro was staring after Taichi with a look of deep consternation on his face. Then he turned his head to look at a nearby adult. Jou took a step forward to see better, pushing his glasses up his nose. It was Ishida Masaharu.

Jou began to feel distinctly uneasy. He didn't know what was going on, but he didn't want to wait any longer to find out. Grabbing his bag and heaving it over his shoulder, he ran in the direction that Taichi had taken. The throngs of students were beginning to clear now, and the courtyard was all but empty when he reached it, rather short of breath. All but Yamato, down on the floor, supporting himself with one hand and holding the other to his nose. Jou adjusted his glasses again, which had slipped a little while he was running. Trickles of blood were seeping from between Yamato's fingers. Jou dropped his bag with a thump.

"'Mato!" Jou rushed towards him, dropping to his knees and carefully turning his friend to face him. "Daijoubu desu ka? What happened?"

"Mmf…" Yamato allowed himself to be turned. His eyes brimmed with tears unshed by an effort of will alone, and he was shaking. Small sobs were being quelled somewhere deep in his throat. Jou had to swallow before he could speak.

"Did Taichi do this?" he asked quietly. Yamato nodded slowly, ashamedly, not meeting Jou's eye. Jou caught his wrists gently. "Let me see your nose."

Yamato didn't uncover his face, but neither did he resist when Jou moved his hands carefully away. "It's not broken," he diagnosed, squinting. "I have some tissues in my bag. Don't move." He fetched some tissue for Yamato, who held it to his nose and sniffed. This was immediately followed by a painful wince. Jou sighed. "Tip your head forward," he instructed, and Yamato complied. "What happened, 'Mato?"

"He hit me." Yamato's slightly trembling voice was muffled by the bloody tissue, and Jou silently passed him some more, surreptitiously inspiring from his inhaler with the other hand. "That bastard Yagami hit me."

Jou was brushing Yamato's hair back, turning his face this way and that to examine him. "Ouch. You've got a black eye as well," he said. "How many times did he hit you?"

"Too many," was the brief reply. A pause. Then, "My guitar," Yamato said suddenly. He turned and began scrabbling with the zip on his guitar case with one hand. Jou helped him. Another sob escaped the blond as he eased the instrument out. Dents and scratches covered the box. Four of the six strings were broken, and the neck was cracked and splintered in two separate places.

Jou laid a hand on Yamato's furthest shoulder in silent sympathy and support. Yamato stared at the remains of his beloved guitar. "Otousan is going to kill me," he said blankly.

"'Mato -"

"Don't," he said, voice gravelly. "Onegai, Jou…"

The two boys sat in silence for several moments. Finally Jou asked, very softly, "Why?"

Yamato shrugged helplessly. Jou bit his lip indecisively, and his friend looked at him searchingly. "What? Out with it," Yamato demanded. Jou sighed.

"Your father was by the gate," he admitted. "So was Koushiro."

"Koushiro? What's he got to do with anything?"

"I don't know, but I saw him playing soccer with Taichi at lunch," Jou said. Yamato stared incredulously.

"With Taichi?" he echoed. "You're kidding. Koushiro hates Taichi as much as he hates me."

"Not anymore, apparently." Jou frowned. "I'll ask him when I see him next."

"You do that. In the meantime, I need to get to the bathroom and wash my face. I must look like hell," Yamato complained. Jou smiled.

"Still worried about your appearance first. You can't be that badly hurt. Still, you shouldn't start walking around until the bleeding stops, okay?"

"Okay. I'm just gonna go sit on the wall, all right?"

Jou nodded, and the two moved over to the low wall edging the staff car park. They sat, backs to the school building, Jou's arm still around Yamato's shoulders, and gazed across the deserted courtyard.

"Maybe," said Yamato suddenly, "if I cleaned out my piggy bank and did some extra chores, I could afford to get the guitar fixed up myself. Then Otousan wouldn't need to know."

Jou looked skeptical. "How much do you have saved up?"

"Quite a bit." Yamato did some math on the fingers of one hand. "It would take me about three weeks, I think, if I did everything around the house."

"You already do most things around the house," Jou pointed out.

Yamato frowned. "No I don't. It's just that Otousan works a lot, and I have to pitch in more than most. Three weeks. Yeah." He was beginning to brighten up. "Three and a half, tops."

"What about band practice in the meantime?"

Yamato waved a hand. "I can get permission from Byuuchio-sensei to use a school guitar for a bit. He won't mind, he likes me. Can I leave my guitar at your place? I don't want to risk Otousan finding it." Jou rolled his eyes and conceded with a nod, and Yamato grinned. "Arigato, Jou-kun."

"Yeah, yeah. Dou itashimimashite, I'm sure. Let's see your nose." Yamato let him, and Jou gave a satisfied nod. "Okay. We can go now, if you want."

"Jou…"

Jou blinked. "Hai?" Yamato was twisting his fingers around each other, tissue now in his lap. Half-dried bloody smears encrusted his nostrils.

"Don't… don't tell anyone, will you? That Taichi…" He forced a laugh. "It would be totally not good for my image, you know? That I didn't hit him back, or anything…"

Jou was silent for a moment. Then, "Why didn't you?" he asked quietly.

"I tried at first, but - I dunno… It was really sudden. I was surprised. And he was really angry, I didn't want to provoke him."

"You were scared?" Jou suggested. He held his breath, and hoped he wouldn't get punched.

Yamato looked away across the courtyard and didn't answer. Then he stood, and said, "Let's go to the bathroom."

Jou decided not to push it. The two boys shrugged their bags back onto their shoulders and took the nearest door into the school building, heading for the downstairs boys' washroom.

"K'so," Yamato muttered under his breath. Jou looked up, and felt his chest tighten. Taichi and Koushiro strode purposefully towards them, both looking dead ahead. Tenseness radiated from every inch of Yamato's being as the two pairs of friends approached each other. At the last moment, Koushiro turned his eyes to Jou and flashed him a brief smile. Jou twitched his lips back, confused. What in the hell is he doing hanging around with Taichi? The question went unanswered; they had been passed by. Perfectly composed, Yamato walked into the bathroom. He walked right up to the opposite wall and kicked it with a frustrated, angry yell.

"Hey, don't do that," said Jou, alarmed. "You'll break something. Like your foot."

"I don't care," Yamato said sulkily. He turned to a basin, filled it with cold water and then plunged his face into it. He re-emerged gasping, water running down his face in rivulets, bangs plastered to his forehead.

"No sudden movements," Jou instructed. "You might start your nose off again."

"Hmph." Yamato pushed his hair back out of his face and glowered at the closed bathroom door. "Is he haunting me or what?"

"I'll have a little chat with Koushiro, see what I can find out," offered Jou. "In the meantime, try not to brood on it too much. It won't help, you know."

"I know," Yamato sighed, extracting a pocket-sized tub of hairgel from his bag and rearranging his hair. "But I don't understand. I don't know where Koushiro fits into all this, and I don't understand what Otousan's got to do with it either. And why now? After all this time, why now?"

Jou didn't know how to reply. He didn't have the answers.

* * * * *

"So… aren't you going to invite me in?" Yamato asked hopefully.

Jou shook his head, taking Yamato's bruised guitar and standing it in the hall. "Stop running," he commanded. "Just go home and talk to him about it. It won't be so bad, you'll see."

Yamato didn't look convinced. Jou smiled, shaking his head. "Call me later, okay? Let me know how it went. I guarantee you'll feel happier by then."

"If Otousan shouts at me, it's all your fault," Yamato warned Jou, but he wasn't serious and they both knew it.

"Go home," Jou said again. Yamato lingered, sighed and turned away in the direction of his own apartment. Jou nibbled his lip before closing the door, hoping fervently that his predictions would prove to be right. In the meantime, he had some visiting to do.

* * * * *

XD Drama! Ti x