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When Yujin thinks about his future, there's always something like white noise in his mind. A mild fog, just enough to blur out any idea he might have had about what he wants to do, right before that idea turns into something palpable.
He doesn't think much of it. It's a good thing to live in the moment. The future is frightening and unpredictable; a lot of kids his age don't like to think about it, do everything they can to avoid thinking about it.
He never stops to wonder what it might mean that he physically can't.
“Aren't you going to play with your new friend?” his mum asked him once, back when he was still in primary school.
Yujin was busy drawing a treehouse with some coloured pencils, because Haru had mentioned wanting to build a treehouse in the summer so they could play outside and read books at the same time. He shook his head with a little bit of regret. “Haru is sick. It's the flu. The teacher says he's not allowed to leave his home.”
His mum made a sympathetic face. “Oh, that's a shame.”
Yujin nodded, continuing his drawing. The tree's leaves needed to be shaded, so he picked a deeper green than the one he had used before.
“I've never been sick, have I?” he said after a while.
“That's because I take very good care of you,” his mum answered.
“Has Haru's mum not taken good care of him?”
“Why don't you go over and check up on your friend? I'm sure he'll get healthy very quickly if he's not alone.”
Yujin paused in his work. The drawing looked funny this way: half of the tree's leaves shaded and vibrant, the other half flat, unreal. Dead, almost. “Won't I get sick, too, if I go near him?”
His mother smiled down at him. “Don't worry. You'll be fine.”
“Yo Yujin,” Astra says while they're lounging on the couch. Haru and Ai are a few feet away, huddled around Ai's phone, trying to help Eri pick the perfect outfit for her next appearance in public (“Oh, this one looks amazing on you, Eri!” “What? Ai, that's way too plain. What about this one?” “I need something that will deliver an explosive punch to my audience!”). Every once in a while, Haru will glance over to Yujin with a soft smile on his face, for no apparent reason except maybe to share some of his enjoyment. Yujin doesn't quite know what to make of that, but it feels right to smile back.
“Hm?” he says, turning towards Astra with some difficulty.
“I've been wondering.” Astra points at his arm. “Doesn't that, like, hurt?”
Yujin looks down at himself, where Offmon is idly chewing away at his forearm. He's not trying very hard, but his teeth are pointy enough to break the top layer of skin and even have a few drops of blood leak out. Yujin has never bled much.
“It's gotten a lot better since the beginning,” he says, avoiding the question and not sure why. “He's far less nervous around everyone now.”
“Still!” Musimon chimes in. “Biting is biting, and that's gotta hurt! Are we feeling that? Are we not?”
“Totally not!” Astra finishes.
Yujin looks over to Haru, who is looking over as well with that smile on his face; like clockwork, their eyes meet for a second. They've always been in tune like that; it's a very satisfying feeling. Unbidden, his thoughts go back to when Offmon evolved for the first time and nearly attacked them. He had to jump in to protect Haru and the others; Shutmon had bitten his shoulder, then. The memory is still vivid in his mind, the colours, the smells, the sounds – everything except for the pain. Because there had barely been any.
“Sorry,” Yujin eventually says to Astra with an apologetic smile. “To be honest, I'm not really feeling anything.”
“What!” Musimon exclaims.
“That's so cool!” Astra joins in.
Yujin suddenly isn't so sure about that. Offmon chews on, oblivious.
The bookstore is expanding on its romance section.
“Thank you so much for helping,” Ai says earnestly while the two of them are working on shelving the numerous novels, comic series, and self-help books. “You probably had way more fun plans for this afternoon.”
“Not really,” Yujin admits, picking up a box full of the latest volumes of Help!!!! My Significant Other Is A Transcendental Being from Outer Space!! and absently sorting through them. “Soccer practice got called off, and Haru isn't – oh. Hey, I didn't know the ninth volume was already out. I should buy one.”
Ai pauses, book in hand. It's a copy of Oh No, I'm in Love with A Statue! (Volume 4). “I had no idea you were a fan of romance novels, Yujin.”
Yujin smiles fondly. “Well, there are some really good ones. And it's the only literary genre Haru doesn't like, so there's no risk of him stealing them from me.”
Ai nods slowly, deep in thought.
“So … ” she says, trailing off. “You, um. You know a lot about these things then, do you?”
“You mean, romance?” Yujin considers it. “Not from any personal experience. But if you need advice,” he adds with another smile, “I'll try to help you to the best of my abilities.”
“I didn't mean!” Ai exclaims, cheeks and ears quickly growing red. “I mean. Maybe I do. Need some advice, I mean. Um. This is difficult.”
Yujin sets the books down and sits on one of the couches, patting the seat next to him. Then he waits for Ai to continue; no need to push her. She seems nervous enough as is.
“Let's say there's someone you like,” she eventually says. “A lot. How do you know if they like you back? How can you tell?”
Yujin thinks about it for a moment. He remembers how shy Haru always gets around Ai, how the smile he directs at her is different from his other smiles, brighter, more sparkling.
“Well, if they're friendly to you, that should already be a good sign,” he says, suddenly reluctant to be specific.
Ai sighs. “Not really. She's friendly with everybody, after all.” Right after the sentence is out, she covers her mouth with her hand. “I mean! Did I give it away?”
A visceral, unsettling relief runs through Yujin, then, that this is obviously not about Haru.
“It's fine,” he says. “Hey, why don't you just ask her out on a date? Spend some time together, get to know each other. If it's who I think it is, she will be nice about it even if she says no.”
“You mean, just … ” Again, Ai trails off.
“Exactly.” He smiles, hopefully encouraging. “Just go for it.”
“That's easier said than done.” Ai stands up from the couch, seemingly ready to get back to work. “Still, thank you for the encouragement. I'll try to do it. You're a great friend, Yujin.”
Yujin wants to get back to work, as well, but he can't just yet. The books feel heavier, all of a sudden.
The SUGAR androids in L-Town are staring at him.
Yujin can't find any other way to describe it. Of course, he knows they don't actually stare; they have cameras and LED lights instead of eyes, and they look at the people in their care for exactly as long as it takes them to figure out what they need, and not a moment longer.
And yet, on him, they linger.
He tries to mention this to Offmon, even though he has little hope that his partner understands what he means.
“Oh!” Offmon replies, voice muffled by the sports bag he's hiding in (Offmon insists on being in his appliarised form as much as possible). “It's normal, though, right? You stare at Haru a lot!”
Yujin blinks. He hadn't noticed.
Rei seems to dislike him, and Yujin can't figure out why.
It's not like people have never been apprehensive of him, but those people have eventually all come around, because Yujin does his best to be a decent and likeable guy. Of course, that would require Rei to actually spend some time with him, and Yujin is beginning to understand that Rei is not an easy person to get ahold of. He doesn't really seem to go to school, at least not with anything approaching regularity, and his visits to the bookstore are short and sporadic at best (and even then Haru is more or less the only person he speaks to, if he speaks to anyone at all).
Still, Yujin must be either very lucky or have extremely good intuition, because he manages to run into Rei on his way home after soccer practice.
“Hello Rei,” he says with a friendly smile, hoping to establish at least something of a cordial tone. “Good to see you.”
Rei, ostensibly, does not agree. He narrows his eyes. “Where's Haru?”
“He, Torajirou and Ai are helping Eri with the next step in her AppliYama election campaign, I think,” Yujin replies, sparing a fond thought for his best friend's enthusiasm about the idol's career. “Why are you asking?”
“You guys usually do everything together.” Rei shrugs. “Seemed suspicious.”
Suspicious. It's so surprisingly blunt that Yujin isn't quite sure how to react.
“You know,” he says, trying to cover up how wrong-footed he feels, “there's a concert in the music hall in a few days – we were all going to go, but Watson changed his mind last minute, so we have a spare ticket. Maybe you want to come along? I don't really know you all that well, so I thought you might – ”
“No,” Rei cuts him off.
Alright then. Well, Yujin can play the bluntness game, too. He quickly changes tactics.
“Have I done anything to offend you?”
Rei snorts, eyes narrowing even more.
“Because if I have,” Yujin pushes on, “I would like to fix it, if possible. I want us to be friends.”
“Why?”
Why? What a strange question. “Why not?”
“I don't exactly like depending on people,” Rei says, “when I know they're hiding something.”
Yujin blinks, trying to figure out what on earth Rei is talking about. Something in his mind starts spinning; it's the same feeling as when he noticed the androids' stares in L-Town, or when he tries to recall the last time he really felt pain, or when he thinks too hard about his future. He is missing something, something very important, something that's happening right in front of him – to him – and yet he's miles away from figuring it out.
What could he possibly be hiding without knowing that he's hiding it?
“I don't know what you mean,” he admits. “What do you think I've done?”
“Nothing,” Rei says. “Not yet, anyway.”
And then he turns and walks away.
Yujin is not one to brood. He isn't a particularly introspective person, and there's nothing wrong with that. Haru has the tendency to overthink everything, so Yujin doesn't need to be like that, too. When Haru's head is in the clouds, he can be the one with his feet on the ground.
That doesn't mean he doesn't notice things. How, for example, his memory works in a very unusual way. He remembers most of his life with extreme clarity, nearly always able to recall everything perfectly. It gets to the point where he sometimes pretends not to remember something, because he knows that people are supposed to forget a lot of things, even though he just – doesn't.
That isn't to say that his memory is spotless, though. There are … gaps, three or four big ones, and several smaller ones strewn across his life. The latest big one occurred just a few months ago, when he woke up one morning with no recollection of going to bed, and suddenly his body felt a little different and his school uniform didn't quite fit anymore.
“You must have hit a growth spurt,” his mother simply said, smiling. “It's normal to need some time to adjust when you're growing.”
Even Haru commented on it.
“Wow,” he said, and when Yujin asked what he meant, “N-nothing. I just, have you always been taller than me?”
He barely remembers anything before the time he met Haru. Up until now, he's always chalked it up to a child's memories being unreliable, and sentimentality, maybe (because really, there's no point in remembering a time before Haru). But he remembers their first meeting in vivid detail, down to the weekday and the weather and the shoes they were wearing.
It's like a switch was flipped, back then, and suddenly his memory started working perfectly. Save for a few very noticeable gaps. Gaps that he has, until now, never really bothered to think about.
And now Rei thinks he is hiding something. Rei, who is an extremely skilled hacker.
The pieces are adding up to something; he just doesn't know what.
“Can I ask you something personal?”
Haru turns to look at him, surprised. “Of course. Anytime.”
Yujin knows that, but he still likes to ask for permission. He stretches his legs out on the grass; the park is nearly empty. It's slightly too cold and too late to be outside, but he doesn't feel like going home just yet, and apparently neither does Haru. He's sitting next to Yujin, with his arms sort of hugging his knees. Offmon is trying to cuddle with Gatchmon, who seems torn between the opportunity for some shared warmth and the need to keep up his cool facade.
“Do you remember your dad?”
Haru considers this. “Not very well. I remember a vague feeling, though. Something like safety.” He pauses for a moment. “Oh! I do remember – he took me to the playground a lot. I would sit on his shoulders and pretend to hang from the monkey bars, even though I was way too small. Maybe I just remember that because mum showed me a photo, though.”
Yujin hums, carefully hiding his discomfort. He has never seen any photos of him and his father. Why has he never asked to see any?
“Why are you asking now?” Haru says.
Yujin flinches, even though he knows Haru can't read his thoughts and must be referring to something else. He debates how much he can tell his friend – he knows how much Haru would worry for him, and he doesn't want to burden him with anything when he doesn't even know what's going on himself.
“I was thinking about my own dad,” he eventually says. “And the thing is, I don't remember him at all. Not even any vague feeling. Mum says he left when I was little, but there's not even one memory. Just – ” he swallows, tries to reign in the panic, like he usually reigns in his feelings – “nothing. That's – that's weird, isn't it? That's not how it's supposed to be.”
Haru frowns. “I wouldn't – everyone remembers differently. Maybe seeing him leave was too painful for you as a kid, so you just blocked him out. It's possible.”
“Maybe,” Yujin agrees half-heartedly. He's scrambling for a way to change the subject when –
“Yujin.”
“Yeah?”
“You know that – ” Haru stops, shifts around, until his whole body is facing him. “There's nothing wrong with you. You're great, dad or no. You know that, right?”
And Yujin must take a little bit too long to answer because Haru just sort of puts his arms around him and pulls him close. With no small amount of surprise and hesitation, Yujin returns the embrace. They don't hug very often; he thinks they should.
“There's nothing wrong with you,” Haru repeats, maybe for both of them.
Yujin wishes, then, that he could believe him, even though his whole being screams that it's not true.
It dawns on him when he's home alone on his couch, with Offmon engaging again in his favourite pastime of chewing on Yujin's forearm. Yujin, again, barely feels anything, and that's when the idea crosses his mind.
It's a ridiculous idea. More than that, it's bad and could actually harm him, but Yujin has to know.
He pries Offmon off of his arm and makes some excuse to him, walks upstairs with deliberate calm, locks his bathroom door – his Appmon partner should under no circumstances see this – and looks for his mother's razor blades.
Carefully, he peels one of them out of the container and cuts into his palm.
A clean slice, a few drops of blood. Other than that, nothing.
Alarmed, he cuts in a second time, then a third. The forth cut ends up right across his wrist.
He should be terrified right now, by all accounts. Hurt from the wounds, scared of bleeding out, afraid of dying.
He isn't. That, in turn, terrifies him more than anything.
He makes one last cut, just one. The blade goes in deep this time, and it does hurt a little bit, so he keeps pressing down until he hears the sickening sound of metal scraping over metal. It's enough to snap him out of his daze. He looks up to the bathroom mirror; there are tears in his eyes.
How is one supposed to process, he wonders, that one is not made of flesh and bones?
Somehow, he feels like a search engine is not going to help him answer this one.
There's no way in hell he's telling Haru anything about this, or any of his other friends.
For a brief, wild moment, he actually does want to tell Haru, because they're supposed to share everything and he honestly isn't sure he'll get through this alone, but then he remembers how his friend kept him out of the loop about the Appmon for such a long time, all to keep him safe.
Yujin doesn't need to be a genius to understand that this is anything but safe.
He tries not to let anything show, and it seems to work. That alone is cause for even more concern – how has he never noticed how good he is at projecting exactly the things he wants to be seen, and hide everything else? Rei was right in accusing him of duplicity before he even knew it himself.
The thing is, none of it feels duplicitous. When he helps Ai out, when he laughs at one of Torajirou's jokes, when he compliments Eri's outfit, when he worries about Offmon, when he smiles at Haru, it all feels genuine. It feels real.
And maybe it is real, he thinks to himself. Maybe it can be. Maybe this, this pile of metal and wires and coding that is, apparently, him – maybe that doesn't have to matter. Maybe nothing has to change.
That's when the Ultimate Four attack.
It's perfect, in a way, because he can save his friends without even having to worry about getting hurt himself. He feels invincible, almost, because what are they going to do to him?
And even if they do come up with something, even if they hurt or injure or kill him – what does it matter? His friends, who are humans with families and dreams and a future and flesh and bones, they're safe now. Whether he and his artificial existence make it back or not – the others will live on, they'll be fine. The only one he's worried for is Offmon, but Shutmon has grown strong. He will know how to survive.
Haru's face is the last thing he sees before the portal closes. The reassuring smile is still on his lips when he turns to face the Ultimate Four, ready for anything. Ready to make good on his decision of dying for a friend.
What he doesn't expect is for Charismon to take one look at him and put out his arm in a clear gesture of halt.
“Hold on,” he says to his three companions, and indeed, they freeze in their respective spots. It must be part of his power, because even Yujin feels compelled to slow down and stop whatever he was planning to do.
“This one's different,” Charismon continues. “I feel it.”
Biomon inclines his head, staring at him intently. A shiver runs down Yujin's spine.
“I think I see what you mean,” Biomon says.
Beautymon, who seems the least enthralled by Charismons influence, shakes herself free and floats a little closer to Yujin.
“You're quite pretty,” she says, and the shiver that runs down Yujin's spine now is entirely different. “But it's only skin deep, isn't it?” She turns to her companions. “Reminds me a little bit of you, Fakemon.”
“He looks normal to me,” Fakemon says, which is probably a lie. “Do you think he is … ”
“The contingency plan,” Biomon finishes.
Yujin has no idea what they're talking about; he'd expected to be dead, or at least fighting, by now. He's really not ready to deal with this turn of events.
“You mean, we can't actually mess him up?” Beautymon says with a pout. “What's the point then?”
“Bait,” Charismon replies, very simply.
Before Yujin can unpack what that means, a wide, inviting smile stretches over the Ultimate's face. He feels safe all of a sudden; they clearly don't want to hurt him, so there is no point in fighting, really. Shutmon must feel the same way, because he immediately transforms back into Offmon, looking drowsy and content.
“Interesting,” Biomon notes, but his voice sounds distant to Yujin. “It works like it would on any real human. Are you sure I can't take him apart just a little bit?”
“Hey,” Beautymon says, voice just as distant, “if I don't get to, then neither do you.”
“Shut it, both of you,” Charismon says, and then, to Yujin, “let's get you somewhere more comfortable, shall we?”
“Sure,” Yujin says, full of gratitude. He takes Offmon into his arms and follows them.
He doesn't remember anything between that point and Haru's rescue of him. He figures it's for the best. Haru is warm and solid at his side; he checks on him frequently, looks him over and over again for injuries that aren't there, smiles, touches him, tells him how glad he is to have him back.
All Yujin can think of is: contingency plan.
He turns it over in his head as much as he can. In the end, none of the answers make sense.
None, of course, except for Leviathan.
It has to be. Why else would the Ultimate Four know, why else would they have let him live without even attacking him, who else has the knowledge and the power to create an AI who doesn't even know he is one, only to use him as a fucking contingency plan –
But the Ultimate Four are no more. Is he still the contingency plan, now?
Or is he just the plan, period?
It's impossible, he reasons. He'd never let himself be used to hurt his friends, or anyone else, ever. He's kind, that's what everyone says about him, and he loves his friends, he truly does. That has to mean something.
Then again, maybe it doesn't. What would he know?
He should just withdraw. That's what he ought to do, leave his friends behind now and not come back, so as to eliminate every possibility of ever hurting them. In the very moment that the thought occurs to him, he knows he can't. He could never leave Offmon, Ai, Eri, Tora – Haru. He's too selfish, after all, loves him too much, or maybe not enough.
And here he thought love was a good thing. Something to make him human.
They rescue Hajime, and Yujin is elated.
He also knows he can't go on like this.
Everyone is ecstatic about having Rei's little brother back, especially Rei himself, of course. It's an enormous personal victory, as well as a giant step forward in finding the one Appmon that could present a legitimate threat to Leviathan, so spirits are incredibly high, and their little headquarters in the bookstore are buzzing with activity at every moment.
Which makes it increasingly difficult for Yujin to hide his own distress.
He starts making up excuses for spending less time around the others. Tora calls him a couple of times, but pretending to be fine is easier over the phone than it is in person. The only one that he can't really push away is Haru, but Haru has been a bit off himself, lately, spacing out more often than usual and looking more pensive while he does it.
Yujin wonders whether or not he suspects anything, and doesn't know which option is more terrifying.
Thus, it comes as a complete surprise when the one who confronts him about his behaviour is not Haru, but Eri.
She corners him after his soccer practice. He tries to excuse himself with a throwaway sentence and a wave, but she catches his hand and unceremoniously yanks his sleeve up.
The scars from his experiment are still stark against his wrist.
“I know how this looks,” Yujin says, and stops because of the understanding on Eri's face.
“You know,” she says, “there's a lot of pressure on idols to succeed. It's not easy, being one of four-hundred-seventy, and if you don't have good friends and a nice manager and a family that look out for you, it can get to you in a very bad way. I know one girl who even thought about – ”
She swallows, and even though her eyes grow moist her expression only turns more determined. “So I just want to make sure you know that we're your friends, and we all support you, and you can tell Haru literally anything and he'll still love you, and if ever someone makes you feel unloved, just call me and I'll deliver an explosive punch to their face. Even if that someone is you. Got it?”
That's not it, Yujin wants to say. I'm not suicidal or anything. But how true would that be, really? Wouldn't it be the simplest solution? Laying his life down for a friend, even before that friend was actually in danger?
But he can't do that, he realises now. Not just because he loves his friends, but because they also love him. Eri said it. Haru loves him.
He has to fight. He has to hold on for as long as he can, because Haru loves him.
“Got it,” he says, and then, “Are you okay, Eri?”
“What? Yeah, I – ” She pauses to wipe her eyes. “Sorry, it's just. Not the first time I've had to say this to someone I cared about.”
“Would you like a hug?” he asks, and she nods, already halfway in his arms.
It does feel good. Maybe, he thinks, maybe he can do this.
“I went on a date with Ai the other day,” she says. It's sort of muffled by his shoulder, but he understands her. “She said it was your idea.”
“In a way,” he says.
She pulls back. “It was incredible. She bought me some ice cream and we went to the park to feed the ducks, and we just talked a lot, and she has this cute laugh when – anyway, she's great.”
“I'm happy to hear that,” Yujin says.
“I'm just saying,” Eri continues. “Maybe you should take your own advice.”
Unlikely, Yujin thinks.
“I'll think about it,” he says.
Living with his mother becomes unbearable, which is a problem because he can't let her know he knows. He thought about confronting her for all of two seconds, just to satisfy his own desire for closure, before determining that absolutely nothing good could possibly come of it. He doesn't even know this person; he's been living with a stranger, two flies in a spider web of fabricated familial love.
Sometimes he stays the night at Ai's place and listens to her gushing about Eri and their dates, or they discuss Help!!!! My Significant Other Is A Transcendental Being from Outer Space!! which she has finally started reading. As often as possible, though, he sleeps over at Haru's.
They're sitting on his bed, tonight, watching Astra's videos. Originally, Haru had just wanted to catch up on the latest ones, but then they sort of fell down the rabbit hole of re-watching everything, and now it's long past their bedtime already. Offmon and Gatchmon both fell asleep on the shelf hours ago, piled on top of each other. Yujin can't honestly complain; the videos do wonders to take his mind off of everything else. They're sitting close enough for Haru's laptop to be balanced on both Haru's left leg and Yujin's right, and every time Haru laughs at one of Tora's silly jokes, the screen shakes a little bit and their shoulders brush.
Haru laughs a lot at Tora's silly jokes.
It's all Yuujin can focus on. He knows, by now, that there's something other than friendship at stake here for him, other than best friendship, even, and after what Eri said, he thinks he might not be the only one to feel that way. And yet, he can't say anything, because he might be somewhat human but first and foremost, he's a contingency plan.
Another wave of laughter rolls out of Haru and up his arm, and Yujin knows he has to do something. Slowly, so as not to disturb the laptop's precarious balance on their legs, he leans back and snakes an arm around Haru's shoulders.
He's done this before, obviously, put an arm around Haru's shoulders, does it all the time, even. But the room is dark, and the sheets are soft, and the air is quiet except for the tinny sound of Astra's video and Haru's chuckles, and so it's never been quite like this. It's never meant quite as much.
For a split second, Haru freezes and glances at him with mild surprise. Yujin wants to come up with some stupid practical explanation, like It's more comfortable this way, or My arm fell asleep, but before he can, Haru leans back, as well, leans more fully into his side with a nearly inaudible sigh, head almost on Yujin's shoulder.
They watch two more videos like that (and for all of his perfect memory, Yujin does for the life of him not remember what they were about), until Haru snaps the laptop shut, pushes it to the side and scoots around to face his friend.
“Yujin,” he says, with that inflection he always uses when he's about to get serious. “I've been – there's something I've been meaning to tell you.”
And from the way Haru doesn't quite look at him, from the way his cheeks are slightly red and his voice is slightly hoarse, Yujin knows what he's about to say.
He doesn't wan't to hear it, not now. Not when he can feel it's all about to come crashing down around them. Not when he knows that they are on borrowed time until they somehow stop Leviathan. Not when there's even the slightest chance he might hurt Haru.
Not when he's still a contingency plan.
Feeling more than a little desperate, he takes Haru's hands, which seems to startle him enough for him to stop talking.
“When all of this is over,” Yujin says. “All of it, Leviathan, the Project, when it's all over, when we're safe again – let's talk then. Let's wait till then. Okay?”
“Yujin,” Haru says, still hoarse, “what – ”
“Please, Haru,” Yujin cuts in. His hands are tight around Haru's, but he can feel Haru gripping back. “I want to get this right.”
It's real, he tries to say, without saying it. I feel it, too, and it's real.
“Okay,” Haru says, trusting him, as he always has.
And now, it's Yujin's turn to trust him.
“The wind feels nice,” he tells Haru on the rooftop, moments before, and, “We won't change, right?”
He hopes, with every wire in his lifeless body, that it's true.