Author's note: This is a story in response to YinYangWhiteTiger's crack challenge in the forum "World of Digimon". I suggest you check it out, by the way. There's lots of interesting and really helpful discussions going on all the time. Anyways, the challenge is to pair Jun up with any character (with a few exceptions, which I'm happy for because it bans really typical pairings) and mix it up with a whole lot of drama and angst.

Added note: I'm hoping to have this done by July 8th, but I think that might not be realistic. Unfortunately, if I miss that deadline, the story will be on hiatus until July 19 as I don't think I'll have internet access when I go to New Jersey for vacation.

He had a concert tonight. And she planned on maintaining her perfect attendance record, even if he rarely spoke to her anymore without being approached. It made her sad to think of the first time they'd met. She'd asked him to sign her shirt, and he'd complied willingly and with a bright rock star smile on his face. But now, she could see from a mile away the look he fixed her with. Unease. He wasn't used to being the sole contender for one girl's affection. He was used to his average fan girls.

Jun Motimiya snorted to herself as she faced her mirror, a dark denim mini-skirt hugging her hips and a canary yellow halter top decorating her top. She was anything but the average fan girl, she thought. She did anything and everything to get his attention, and trilled at the thought of getting even a second alone with him. She'd spent hours daydreaming, hoping, praying to see those gorgeous sapphire eyes lock onto hers. She knew his favorite color, food, clothing brands, and mode of transportation. She knew the shampoo he used, the gel he worshiped, the car he drove, and his GPA in school. Hell, sometimes Jun suspected she knew Yamato Ishida better than he knew himself!

So why couldn't he tear his eyes from that silly little redhead for just one minute?

The thought drove her mad. Truly, deeply mad. Of course, some would argue that she'd gone down that path a long time ago, but those people were mostly family and therefor could be ignored. She never had paid attention to what was whispered about her. She was much too busy scheming and planning and waiting for her precious moment to come to care what other people thought.

The only person who's thoughts mattered, in Jun's world, was Yamato.

Content with her clothing choice, Jun turned to her vanity. She still had make up to do, and accessories to decide on. Not to mention shoes, the most important accessory that could make or break the world's most amazing outfit. And she had to have the most amazing outfit. She had to catch Yamato's eye, and had to capture his heart. This was his last concert in town before the Teenage Wolves went to Osaka for a week, and her mother had strictly forbidden her to try ditch her studies and job to go see them. That had put quite a damper on her mood, considering her attendance record. But no matter. No one could say she wasn't a fan.

Or fanatic, as the case may be.

One finger tapped Jun's lower lip in thought as she regarded her jewelry selection. She sighed sadly, dark brown eyes scanning her assorted earrings with distaste. She couldn't believe she'd really forgotten to buy a new pair while she was out, but then... she only had so much of her allowance left, and hell would be damned before Daisuke would lend her money, she knew. The thought didn't make her too sad though. It was the same vice versa, unless one sibling had gotten the other out of a tight spot with Mom and Dad. That was the only time money exchanged hands between them.

She exhaled loudly as she removed the finger from her lip, reaching for a pair of black plastic earrings. Three hoops of different sizes hung from the gleaming faux diamond studs, causing them to brush lightly against her neck once they were in. She smiled a little to herself. Those would have to do. Her shoes were decided a little more quickly, and with less regret as she looked over her selection. A pair of dull leather mid-calf boots practically screamed at her from the back of her closet, and she fought to release them. In her mind's eye, they were perfect and tied her entire outfit together.

Flirty, with a hint of rock edge, she thought. She couldn't have done a better job if she'd really tried (hours of picking and choosing aside, of course.)!

"Juuuuun," came an irritated voice from the other side of the closed door. It belonged to her friend Ami, she'd recognize it anywhere. Jun couldn't resist rolling her eyes. The girl was so impatient. Didn't she realize perfection wasn't accomplished in fifteen minutes?

Honestly...

"I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying," she insisted, sliding three half-inch plastic bangles onto her wrist before running her fingers through her hair. Not too neat, not too messy (she thought). Just right. She took a deep breath and twisted the brass doorknob in her hand. Now was the moment to reveal the result of her hard work, the moment of truth. She grinned at her dark-haired, green-eyed friend as she did a small twirl on the spot. "Whatcha think?"

"You spent an hour and a half doing that," Daisuke asked incredulously from where he sat on the couch watching a soccer tournament on the television screen. Spain versus Germany. He'd been talking of nothing else for the past two days.

"Shut up, Squirt," Jun ordered, glaring. But it didn't phase him, the goggle head was far too used to threats and glares from Miyako to be greatly affected by his sister's. He merely smirked a little, stuffing his mouth with another handful of popcorn.

"You look great," Ami insisted before Jun could think of anything more venomous to say to repair her bruised ego. Her hand latched onto Jun's wrist and was pulling her towards the door to the Motimiya apartment, and Jun pouted. She had a feeling Ami'd barely registered more than the fact that she was clothed.

"Uh huh."

"You do. Now come on. I don't feel like standing like last time you had to achieve perfection," Ami pressed. Ami's other hand grabbed first Jun's small yellow purse from the table (she'd bought it to match the shirt she was wearing now) and tossed it to her before grabbing her own slim black clutch. Ami wasn't into being showy or loud like Jun was. She went to enjoy good music, not the view.

Sometimes, Jun wondered how they'd become friends to begin with.

"But I like standing," the purple-haired girl insisted when they had closed to apartment door behind them with a snap and a click. The name plate hanging on the door by a nail swung gently before settling back into place as the two teenagers began their way towards the elevator. "I want Matt to hear me cheer for him."

"People in China can hear you cheering, Jun," Ami teased with a sigh. She had released Jun's wrist now that they were out of the house and moving, so the girls were walking side-by-side. It gave Jun the chance to take in Ami's outfit of choice, now that she wasn't forced to stare at the long curtain of thin black hair from behind. Much more concerned about comfort than appearance, Ami had opted for a pair of dark wash jeans and her old green Converse low rises. A white screen tee with different colored neon hearts that had the word 'love' written in each of them (a different language every time) completed the outfit. Simple, but pretty. Ami was always like that. She was gorgeous, and didn't even care. It drove Jun mad.

"I just want him to know I'm there," she huffed, crossing her arms childishly over her chest as she spoke. She could sometimes get defensive of her crush on the lead singer of the band. So many people teased her about aiming for the stars, and her father once made a teasing remark that it was a good thing she was hoping to marry money with all the shopping she liked to do.

"I know," Ami replied simply. They'd had this conversation before. It was a pretty common topic for Jun. She had her lines practically memorized, and Ami nodded and feigned sympathy when really she was wondering if she should have brought a book to read for intermission.

"I mean, that girl doesn't even cheer. You realize that, don't you," Jun demanded, and Ami nodded as she leaned against the 'down' arrow on the elevator button. A clanging emitted from beyond the closed steal doors as the elevator made its slow ascent to their floor. Ami stared at the small crack between the doors as Jun continued, her rant only seeming to build up steam as she continued babbling on. "What kind of...of...girlfriend," Jun hissed, as though the word that she so longed to be called while she clung to Yamato's word was now a forbidden curse, "doesn't even cheer for her boyfriend? And at a rock concert? Who just sits there and smiles at a rock concert?"

"I wouldn't mind, personally," Ami said. A small half-smile told Jun that her friend was teasing her .Well, a little anyways. She knew that Ami didn't care one way or another if she was standing or dancing. Actually, she couldn't think of anything Ami was particularly enthusiastic about.

She was so level headed, it actually scared Jun sometimes.

"He deserves better," Jun said resolutely, scowling slightly. The elevator doors slid open, and Ami gave her elbow a gentle nudge to get her to enter.

"Does he now," she asked vaguely, sounding like a parent trying to respond to a conversation they hadn't been paying attention to in the first place. Jun rolled her eyes, but let it drop. For the moment, anyways. She had more pressing things to worry about, like finding her ticket in the jumbled mess of old concert and movie ticket stubs, make up, loose change, and two compact mirrors. Ami said nothing, though the corners of her mouth twitched upwards in amusement as she watched with calm green eyes.

And it stayed that way as they stepped out into the brightly lit, overly-air-conditioned lobby. They crossed it in relative silence, the only noise coming from people passing by and Jun muttering once that the manager of the place had no blood, it was so cold. But even that passed quickly, for soon enough they had stepped out into an unseasonably warm spring night. Given time, Jun would be sighing about the heat and forget all about the chilly lobby.

"Wait," Jun said, pausing on the sidewalk. Ami froze, a couple steps ahead, and half-turned. Her expression was impatient. They were already running late, her eyes seemed to be saying, what the hell was it now? "Aren't we taking your car?"

"Are you insane," Ami asked her bluntly. She was pulling Jun along by the hand again, causing Jun to keep at a slow jog in order to keep up with the longer-legged girl. "Do you realize," she asked with deliberate slowness, as though letting each word sink in on its own, "how horrendous traffic will be? I mean, even for Tokyo! And don't get me started... And you tell me Daisuke is the slow one," she added in a low mutter. But it wasn't so low that Jun didn't hear it.

"Heyyyy," she said angrily, about to protest. But Ami just shook her head, though all the proof Jun had of that was the shimmer in the curtain of black silk before she was yanked along, towards the subway terminal.

"We need to hurry!!"

At first, Jun didn't understand the rush. Okay, they were a tiny bit behind schedule. Yeesh! It wasn't that big a deal, she thought, exasperated. But her eyes caught the glowing numbers above the maps of Tokyo and all of Japan when they reached the bottom of the stares. Her breath caught in her throat, and it felt as though someone had their hands around her throat and was cutting off the flow of oxygen. Foolishly, she even raised her free hand to her neck as though to check.

But there was no one there. Only the shock that they had not even–

"Ten minutes," she shrieked, causing Ami to let go of her hand as the only-slightly calmer girl winced from the noise. "Ten?!" It was impossible. Impossible!

"Let's go. Quick," Ami insisted, pulling Jun along again. But this time it was less out of urgency, and more out of a desire to not get separated by the seething crowd. Jun detested the subways. She avoided them like plagues when she could, but now there wasn't any choice.

She heard Ami ask for two tickets, and Jun didn't get the chance to pull out her own money before Ami was dragging her away, towards one of the train cars. Ugh, how she didn't want to get on that thing. But she did it, and wound up crammed against the opposite door as they slid closed ("We did it!" she screamed at Ami, who merely looked relieved as she stood with only one person between them). A grunt next to her as the crowd squirmed uncomfortably and shifted on its feet alerted Jun to the fact that she was also pressed against a boy about the same age as Daisuke. His blond hair resembled golden hay stacks in the summer time, and he was tall enough that she could see his eyes were as bright as the season's sky. They made her stare for a moment, before she'd realized what she was doing and tore her eyes away.

He was cute, she decided. Not hot, like Yamato was to her. But cute in his own way.

"Yamato's gonna kill me," she heard him mutter distinctly, his head turned away from her. Having just convinced herself to observe the rest of the subway's inhabitants, his words made her snap her head back so quickly she thought her neck cricked. She rubbed it, wincing.

"Yamato... As in the singer in The Teenage Wolves," she asked bluntly, unashamed to admit she'd been eavesdropping (after all, her mind reasoned, it had been an accident). He blinked, and then nodded, a smile forming. Something similar to pride made his eyes burn brighter. It almost discomforted her to look directly into them. So she focused for the bridge of his nose, which was slender and attractively straight.

"Yea. I'm... supposed to already be there," he admitted with a guilty shrug. "But I fell asleep."

"Better than what Jun did," Ami's voice said from Jun's other side, making her jump. The person who had been between them seemed to have wormed his way over to the door they'd come in from. She could just barely make out the back of his balding head. Jun glowered at her friend, who continued on as though she hadn't noticed. "Jun took so long getting ready, we're close to missing the show."

Jun almost missed the strange look that he had fixed her with when Ami mentioned her name. But as soon as it came, it was gone– replaced by a sly smile as he chuckled. He slid his cell phone from his pocket, glancing at the time before sliding it out of view again without a change in his expression.

"You won't miss the show," he promised. Jun's eyes widened skeptically as Ami's dark eyebrows disappeared in the fringe that hung over her forehead. As though answering a question that no one had voiced, he told them, "I can get you in."

"How," Jun demanded, though she was thrilled. So what if they were running a few minutes late? She would get to see Yamato! She wouldn't miss his last show in town! But her question was never answered, because just as he opened his mouth, the subway screeched to a stop and a cool male voice spoke over the intercom, barely heard over the movement of bodies and jabbering of tens of voices.

"Please exit in a timely and orderly fashion," the voice commanded, but few listened. There was some shoving, some dawdling in the doorway as people hesitated whether or not this was the right spot. The newly formed trio pushed and dodged around these people, all taking a deep breath and the liberty of stretching once they were free of the subway mob scene.

"Can we just walk the extra half-hour home," Jun asked Ami, miserable at the thought of taking the subway again that day. Unreasonable fear, yea right. That thing would drive a claustrophobe into hysterics! Ami, despite her casual demeanor, followed Jun's gaze with an expression that confessed she was thinking along similar lines.

"Sure. Why not? It's not as though I'm in a rush to get home," she shrugged indifferently. But a look at her cell phone tightened her mouth into a thin line. "But we should be more worried about getting to the concert."

"Don't worry about it," the boy said. He was still smiling that sneaky smile again, and he nodded his head in the direction of the performance hall. They could see it from there, the tall building on the next block over. In unspoken agreement, all three broke out in a run (Jun was pulling up the rear. She'd never been good at running, in all honesty.). They didn't slow until, panting and holding their knees as they tried get their breath back. Jun, gasping, looked around to see where they had stopped.

"Where–" she began, not recognizing the lot they were standing in, but she was cut off.

"It's the back of the concert hall," she was told simply. He shook his shaggy blond hair from in front of his face, and grinned. He dug from his pocket a key, which Jun presumed opened the back door. "Let's go, before I'm missed." He said it jokingly, his tone lighthearted, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Would Yamato be that annoyed that he was a few minutes late, she wondered mildly. But then, Daisuke had told her that he'd seen Mr. Calm-Cool-and-Collected lose his temper a few times. She'd never let that damage her personal image of Yamato, though. The shrimp tended to bring out some of her worst temper flares, and Jun didn't doubt that he had a similar impact on others.

"Don't sweat it," he grinned, jogging over to the door. It was heavy, one of those metal fire-safe ones. Jun wondered how he had the energy to run all the way here, then jog to the door, and still be able to open that thing without collapsing. But she was grateful he wasn't expecting the two girls to be able to accomplish the same feat. He held the door for them as they walked through, feeling as though they were trespassing even though they had tickets and everything. The door seemed to close too loudly, a crash that echoed in Jun's ears. She resisted the urge to cover them with her hands, and looked around. They were standing in a narrow, dimly lit hall. It reminded her of a business office after hours.

"It feels deserted," Ami murmured. Jun nodded her silent agreement.

"Everyone's by the stage. We won't get caught," the blond confirmed. He lead the way down the hall, his footsteps confident and sure as he led them down one hallway, and stepped into branching halls. They followed without question, still paranoid that their voices would carry and they'd be thrown out. "Just here," he whispered, and Jun understood why he was suddenly cautious. She could hear the sweet sound of Yamato's voice, shouting out to a cheering and energized crowd. The concert had begun. Ami tugged on her arm, and Jun looked over to see that Takeru was propping a door open for them. On the other side, it was darker. Much darker, with probes and disco lights momentarily illuminating random faces in the crowd that they should already have been a part of.

"Let's hurry," Ami whispered, hurrying her along. Jun didn't argue, though she half turned at the door, expecting their blond mystery boy to follow. He shook his head, pointing to a door not ten feet along.

"I'm supposed to be there," he told her, and she understood that that was the door that led backstage. Surprisingly, she felt a small pang of remorse. If not for him, she'd have lost her record. Her spotless, unmarred attendance record. She tried to thank him, even if just a quick, silent mouthing of the words. But he just shook his head again, pushing her through the frame and beginning to shut the door before she could look shocked.

"Jun, let's move," Ami snapped impatiently. It was quite an adventure for the wallflower, much more rushing was done that evening than she was used to. Needless to say, her good mood was beginning to wear off as Jun stared at the closed door. Jun nodded to show she heard her, but she hadn't really. She couldn't seem to tear her eyes away, although in the back of her mind she knew security would be along soon enough to ask what they were doing there. She felt her arm being tugged again before Ami gave up and let it fall limp. "What's wrong?"

"I never asked his name. Did you?"

Ami was silent for a moment before shaking her head. "No, I didn't."

"Neither did I." She didn't know why, but it made her sad. Miserable, even. He'd helped them, sneaked them into the concert she so badly wanted to attend, and she hadn't even thought to say "I'm Jun, and you?" It made her wanna kick herself with her own heeled boots. But Ami didn't give Jun time to think on it much longer. She nudged Jun's elbow and pointed. Two men in Security Navy Blue were headed their way. Jun started.

"Let's move," Ami insisted, and Jun finally complied. They ducked their heads, weaving through the dancing, screaming teenage crowd towards their usual section. Jun pursed her lips together as she spotted Sora's conspicuous flaming red hair in the front row seats. Sitting quietly, beside Taichi. Some girlfriend, Jun thought (not for the first time). Yamato's band was kicking up a new song, and she let herself forget the fact that his hair was the same shade of goldenrod as the Mystery Subway Guy, or that his eyes (she remembered their exact shade) were the same color azure. No, concerts were about music and showing your colors. And with a scream that would rattle Tokyo Tower, she let herself become immersed in it just as she always had.