Something Missing

A/N: To My Reviewers,

I apologize it took longer for this chapter to get up. It was difficult to write.

I’m sorry, but this is it. I know most of you don’t want it to end, aren’t expecting it to end, but this is the last chapter. When I write a story like this, I like to get my couple going, make it possible for them to make it, not carry them the whole way. That’s just too tedious and I’m about to keel over already. I’ve updated every day since I posted except one; that means I’ve spent every free moment writing. Chrono asked me how I was doing it—the answer is: with very little sleep. In a way, it’s cool, because I beat the clock, got it all posted before my internet was shut off, but I’m never doing it again. When I start my next fic, I’ll be normal and update, like, once a week.

Usually, I’m relieved when I finish a story, but I actually extended material so that I could make this one longer, added things in; in the original draft, chapter eight was the last one. I never knew reviewers could be so loyal and supportive. Most of you have been with me from the beginning, and that means a lot—not to mention gives me a huge ego-boost; I’ve never received so much praise in my life. You guys completely spoiled me—ruined me for other reviewers. I hope you’re happy.

Just to mention everyone (in order of appearance of first review): SassieLassie988, Silent_Aura, BlueVixen2017 (I’m glad you made your brother read it), AnimeBabesGoneWildWithMe, JuliaFayeSmutWriter, Michael Bulaich, chi-chi, Chrono, SkittleSama, Summa Lovin’, The Digital Dragon, toto, Chibis, sterlingwings900, kitty, Lee, Brook Lynne, Dark Alchemist, nicky, Logan, Tig, AustinYagami (thanks for all three reviews), and an anonymous reviewer. At the risk of sounding corny and sentimental, I’m going to miss hearing from you guys.

I hope you enjoy this ending.

With love and thanks,

Rienna


Chapter Nine: Panties to Please

“I don’t know. They look really uncomfortable.”

Mimi snorted. “For God’s sake, Sora. You’ve never worn a thong?”

Sora blushed; she didn’t know whether she was more embarrassed or ashamed. “No.”

“Well,” Mimi said sighing, “maybe we should start you off with something a little less . . . advanced.”

They were in one of Mimi’s favorite boutiques, beefing up Sora’s minimal lingerie collection. When Sora first began having sex, she was seventeen; Sora wasn’t the type of girl to be thinking about sexy underwear at seventeen. In fact, her tomboy streak had assured a slow progression in acquisition of all sorts of feminine clothing and products. Her mother’s constant nagging had gotten her into skirts on a regular basis, and living with Mimi had dragged her into realms of hair care and make-up she hadn’t known existed. But somehow, it had never occurred to Sora to buy lingerie and Yamato hadn’t seemed to mind her plain, functional, cotton tastes. Not that Taichi did, either; Mimi had simply become aware of Sora’s ‘panty situation’ as she called it, while helping her fold laundry and decided that something had to be done—immediately.

Mimi had been hanging around the dorm a lot lately. Jyou had been gone a week and a half. Mimi never waited more than a few days after a breakup to start dating, not being of an overly sentimental or moping disposition. It had not escaped Sora’s attention that Mimi had not only neglected to replace Jyou, but also didn’t seem to have any intention of doing so; a few days ago, in their economics class, Mimi had actually blown off a guy she’d had her eye on since the first day of class. Mimi never mentioned Jyou, but the TV was always on and tuned in to the news—even during Mimi’s favorite make-over shows and prime-time dramas. Whenever the crisis in Cambodia was updated, she would run into the room, no matter what she had been doing.

Sora didn’t even try to talk to Mimi about Jyou; she knew it was a lost cause. Mimi was simply too proud to admit she loved Jyou and missed him, too proud to admit that the reason she hadn’t wanted him to go was that she was afraid he’d get hurt—or dead. Since Jyou left, three more volunteers had died—the announcement of each one bringing Mimi to tears, first of dread, then of relief. Sora didn’t know how to comfort her friend, and was just glad their digimon companions would be back in a few days so that Palmon could pick up that load. There was so much she wanted to tell Biyomon herself.

But for the present, the quest was panties.

“What are these?” Sora held a garment she wasn’t sure qualified as underwear.

Mimi took it from her and put it back where Sora had picked it up. “That’s a G-string. If you can’t handle a thong, you can’t handle that.”

“What’s the point of it?”

Mimi glared. “Don’t tell me we need a sex talk, too.”

“No, I get that. It’s just, at that point, doesn’t it just make more sense to go without?”

“My God, you do need a sex talk.” Mimi sighed. “Okay, men’s brains—”

“It’s alright, Mimi,” Sora said quickly. “I can imagine.”

Mimi went back to the task at hand. “I think we should just upgrade you to a string bikini cut for now—but we’ll get you some fun colors and fabrics, and, for God’s sake, nothing white.”

“I don’t see how I need any of this, Taichi wants me just fine with what I have.”

Mimi rolled her eyes. “Of course he does, the chump is nuts about you—and he’s a guy. This isn’t about turning him on, this is about turning him on more.”

Sora thought of Taichi’s enthusiasm, his aggression, the soreness between her legs. “I don’t know if I could take it if he were more turned on.”

“Oh?” Mimi said wickedly. “I always knew he’d be an animal. Too bad he’s so in love with you, or I’d sign up for a few rounds.”

Sora stopped, an aching pit in her stomach.

Mimi turned when Sora fell behind. “What’s the matter?” she asked. “You didn’t take me seriously, did you? Because I was just kidding.”

“No,” said Sora, shaking her head. “It’s just that, he told me he loves me.”

“That’s great, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, except, I didn’t say it back, and I think I hurt him.”

“Wait. Why didn’t you say it back?”

Sora became very interested in a price tag for a teddy she didn’t even like. “Because I’m not sure I do.”

Mimi was somewhere between bored and annoyed. “What?”

“Well, I love him, but I don’t know if I love him the way he loves me.”

“Of course you don’t.”

Sora looked at Mimi sharply.

“Love is an amorphous blob of a . . . thing. You don’t love any two people the same way, do you?”

Sora shook her head.

“Then what makes you think you could love anyone the way they love you? No offense, Sora, but that’s just stupid.” Mimi was outright irritated now. “Let me ask you this: You love Yamato, right?”

Sora nodded.

“Who did you miss more that week you weren’t talking to either of them?—which one were you the most desperate to see?”

Sora saw what Mimi was getting at, and then she felt foolish. “Taichi.”

“Right. Then don’t certain things follow? I can’t believe we’re having this asinine—” she emphasized the word “—conversation. Isn’t this supposed to be your area of expertise?”

Sora became annoyed. “Isn’t sincerity supposed to be yours?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How do you feel about Jyou?”

Mimi froze. “No,” she said.

“‘No’ what?” Sora asked.

“No, we’re not talking about that.”

“Why not? Just because you’re—” Sora stopped when she saw tears forming in Mimi’s eyes.

“I said, no,” Mimi whispered. Then she turned and perused a rack of bras, facing away from Sora.

The two girls shopped for a few minutes in silence, but Mimi, like always, let go of her resentment and began laughing and joking with Sora again.

When they were at the check-out, Sora saw a pair of underwear she actually liked. “Mimi,” she nudged her friend, “look at those.”

Mimi looked. “Ah,” she said, “boy-shorts. I didn’t even think of those.”

“I like these,” Sora said, stepping forward to touch them. They were thin and lacy, completely feminine, and completely transparent.

Next to her, Mimi said, “They’re hot. But they’re also white.”

“Shut up,” said Sora. “I’m getting them.”

--------------

Sora was a little uncomfortable in her outfit. Against her better judgment, she’d let Mimi doll her up. The hair and make-up wasn’t anything new. Mimi was good at doing both, but she never imposed her extreme styles on Sora, knowing that they would look silly on her. So they were done with more skill than Sora could pull off on her own, but not too off the mark from styles she would pick for herself. It wasn’t even the clothes themselves. She was wearing a thin, white sweater and a denim mini skirt, with high-healed sandals—not the kind of thing she wore often, but frequently enough that it wasn’t weird. Really, it was what she was wearing under her outfit that made her feel awkward. The boy-shorts fit differently than any underwear she had ever owned, and that made her very aware of that part of her body, though not as aware as she was of her breasts. At Mimi’s suggestion, Sora had tried going bra-less for her date with Taichi. She hadn’t thought it would be a big deal—she was rather small, but she had never felt more naked in public in her life.

She was meeting Taichi for their date after his soccer practice, leaning against the wall outside the locker room. His teammates had all trickled out, but not Taichi. After a half hour, she finally pushed the door to the locker room open. “Taichi?” she called, hearing her voice echo.

“Back here,” he answered. “Sorry about that. Coach wanted to talk to me about some specific maneuvers he wanted to try against . . .” he trailed off, seeing her, as she had followed his voice to where he was. He stared for a moment. Then he swallowed. “You’re not wearing a bra.”

Sora blushed. She hadn’t thought it would be that easy to tell.

He was standing next to his open locker, gear dumped on the bench behind him. He had, evidently, just finished his shower, and was wearing nothing but a towel draped about his hips. He was still looking at her chest, and she saw his eyes glaze over. When she looked down she saw that her nipples had begun to harden and were standing up in clear relief under her sweater.

“I got new panties,” she said huskily. He looked at her. “Would you like to see them?” she asked.

He nodded.

Standing so that her legs were further apart, she reached down, and pulled up the hem of her skirt, baring the transparent lace to his eyes.

He made a noise in his throat as she used one finger to trace the line at the top of her thigh.

“Do you like them?” she asked.

“No,” he said hoarsely.

She couldn’t help but feel disappointed. “Why not?”

“Because they’re between me and what I want.” He looked at her and she smiled. “I hope you realize that means they have to be destroyed.”

She pouted playfully. “I just spent money on these. Perhaps you could just ask me to coax them out of their current position. That way nobody gets hurt.”

He hooked his finger in the towel he was wearing and pulled, causing it to pool at his feet. He was all business and more than ready to go. “Hurry.”

With trembling fingers, eyes fixed appreciatively on the body that had just been revealed to her, Sora slid her thumbs into the waistband and slowly pushed the underwear down her legs.

There was a moment in which he simply caressed her bare pussy with his eyes. She got antsy and hot, the eagerness building up so much, that when he did move toward her, she whimpered in anticipation of his touch. She wanted him to push her against the lockers and take her, but instead he took her hand and pulled her behind him on a path to the back of the locker room. He led her into the showers.

Taichi wasted no time; without speaking, without warning, he pushed her against the tile wall, beneath a showerhead and turned on the water. She gasped as richly warm water fell over her. “Taichi, I’m still wearing clothes.”

He silenced her with a rough kiss, his hand reaching under her skirt, and two fingers finding her intimate folds, which had been wet before he turned the water on. Water sprayed over their faces and trickled between their bodies. She moaned as the fingers entered and began to stroke her, and as the wet fabric of her sweater pulled at her nipples. Her arms went around his neck, pulling him closer; suddenly she didn’t care so much that she was still dressed.

Satisfying himself that she was wet enough to take him, he pulled his fingers from her and replaced them with something that made Sora squeal with delight into his mouth. She spread her legs wider so that she could take all of him, shivering at the flood of pleasure spreading from her lower belly.

Their kiss broke and she nipped his chin, water running into her mouth. She felt him trail his lips back to her ear, where he sucked on the earlobe. She bucked her hips into him violently. “More,” she begged. “I want you deeper.”

Cruelly, he withdrew. But then he spun her around, pressing her into the wall, and entered her with force, from behind. She screamed, impotently clawing the tile beneath her fingers. Pressing her face against that cold tile, she marveled at the intensity and depth of his thrusts, each jabbing into and dragging across a nub of nerves she barely knew existed. She could hear her cries echoing off the stone, but she was barely aware of them. The spray-path of the water ran down her back, flooding to where her body met with his, and then ran down her legs.

Taichi reached around her body, lifting her wet sweater up over her breasts, where it sat, heavy with water. He kneaded her soft mounds, tweaked and pulled her sensitive nipples. Then the force of one of his thrusts shook her balance. His hands went to her hips to steady her, and her breasts pressed into the wall. Each slam of his body into hers caused her nipples to rub against the cold, textured tile. The pleasure it incurred pushed her within sprinting distance of her orgasm. “Aaaahhh! Harder, Taichi, harder! I’m coming!”

He obeyed, not far from his own release if his grunts were any indication. He crashed into her two times, three times, four times, then his jerking hips spasmed, and she felt him shoot into her. The heat and force of his ejaculation triggered her own orgasm, and she sagged against the wall in a heap, the water still running over their bodies.

---------------

Sora reached to open her dorm door, and Taichi turned her head for a kiss. He kissed her a lot, as though he had been saving them a long time and he’d burst if he didn’t get rid of them.

When they entered the apartment, holding hands, Sora saw Mimi crossing from the bathroom to her bedroom, carrying an armful of hair products.

Mimi studied the two of them for a moment. “Why are you wearing his clothes? Where’s my denim skirt?”

Taichi held up the duffel bag he was carrying.

“Never mind,” Mimi said. “Keep it. I don’t really have time anyway, my cab is going to be here any moment. I’m just packing some last minute hair stuff.”

“Where are you going?” Sora asked, not really alarmed. Mimi took spur-of-the-moment trips all the time.

“Paris,” Mimi called from her room. “I just need to get the hell out of here. I feel like I can’t breathe.”

Sora nodded, sad her friend was running away from her problem with Jyou, but not able to do anything about it.

Taichi sat on the couch and Sora went into the kitchen to get them something to drink. Next to the refrigerator, on the counter sat Mimi’s plane ticket. Sora wanted to tear it up, but when she looked at it, her breath caught. It didn’t say Paris, France; it said Phnom Penh, Cambodia.

Mimi rushed into the kitchen to, no doubt, grab her plane ticket, as the cab outside had just honked. She saw Sora holding the ticket and smiling. “Don’t you say a word,” she said snatching it. Then she gave Sora a long hug.

Grabbing up her bags, Mimi said, “I’ll see you in about six months.”

After the door closed behind her, Taichi asked, “Is she going to see Jyou?”

Sora nodded, “She’s going to see Jyou.” She handed him a soda and laid her head in his lap.

They watched TV until they got tired while he stroked her hair. She dozed.

When she woke, he was looking down on her. His dark eyes were so soft; gazing into them she felt a warmth flood over her in a flush that lulled her. She whispered words she didn’t plan. “I love you.”

He pulled back, freezing. “You don’t have to say that.”

Sora knitted her brows. “Do you think I'd say it because I felt like I should?”

He thought for a moment. “No.”

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s go to bed.”

A/N: Sorry if this lemon wasn’t as good as the last one. I didn’t really think I’d be able to beat chapter seven.

I’ve actually been toying with the idea of a sequel with Mimi and Jyou. Which is atrocious because I hate it when authors write sequels. It appears my hypocrisy knows no bounds. Let me know if that’s something you guys would be interested in. Or if you’re as grossed out by the thought as I am.

Also, I've recieved some inquiries about my weird mix of the original Japanese version and the dub: Yes, I know that originally Jyou had the Crest of Sincerity and Mimi had the Crest of Purity and that all that was changed for the dub. Yes, I know it's a little odd to use the Japanese names and the dub crests. I did it because it served my story. I'm sorry if it sits a little odd for some of you--it kind of does for me, too, but, oh well. It's done and I'm not changing it now. Thank you both (you know who are) for your concern in this matter. I like it when people notice I've pulled a fast one.