Digimon 1. The Meeting

A/N: Hello everyone! For those of you currently reading my first fanfic, "Snapshots," this is the special something I promised a few weeks ago :) For those of you who aren't, this has nothing to do with my other fanfic, so feel free to read on please ^_^ (as well as browse "Snapshots" lol).

This story is partly inspired by my Takeru chapter in "Snapshots." I originally conceived this story as a oneshot, but while I was working on it, I realized that I wanted to do so much with it that I couldn't cram everything into one chapter... so this is the end result ^_^' Since I'm still working on my other fic, I think I'll update biweekly, but we'll see. Enjoy, and please leave a review if you have time! Thanks! :)

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****Chapter One: The Meeting**

A manly slap came down on the distracted employee's back, evoking a huge yelp to equal the sudden pain.

"What was that for?" Ishida Hiroaki, the offended, demanded. The offender merely grinned mischievously.

"Sorry, buddy, but I had to keep you from drooling on the counter again. You know Boss doesn't want smears on his counters."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Wiping the corner of his mouth, the irritated man quickly made his way to the stock room and went to work sorting the new shipments. His friend and coworker followed.

"You know," he continued slyly, "you're not gonna get anywhere if you just sit and stare. Why don't you get out there and say hi? Ask if she'd like to grab some coffee or something. Anything besides staring from a distance day in and day out like a creepy stalker or a dirty old man!"

"It's not like that," Hiroaki grumbled as he ripped open another box.

"You act like a possessed zombie from 4:30 to 6 every day, ever since April!"

"March, and she usually leaves at 5:45..."

"You see? This is how stalkers start out! They see someone they like but refuse to get close because they're shy or whatever crappy excuse they have. Then, they start fantasizing about that person and get all possessive because they're disillusioned by they're fantasies and mix them with reality. Then they deteriorate, starting with their mental health, and then their physical health, and pretty soon, their emotional health goes down the tubes, too. They've completely lost it, all because they didn't want to engage in friendly conversation with the object of their affections! And then, it gets really messy when a third wheel shows up. Have you ever seen those American mystery shows, where a girl's being stalked and then gets a boyfriend for protection, but then the stalker-?"

"I know! I know! Okay, I get your point!" he yelled, throwing his arms up in frustration. After exerting a few short breaths to calm himself, he sighed a pitiful sigh filled with defeat and confusion. He wore a face to match his feelings. "I guess I should do something soon."

His friend placed a caring hand on Hiroaki's shoulder.

"I'm just looking out for you, buddy. Back in a flash!"

Without another word, he dashed out of the stock room and through the front door - jingling the bells on his way out - leaving Hiroaki completely alone to contemplate his thoughts. Sighing again, he leaned against the shelf behind him and slowly slumped onto the floor. He was exhausted, although not from work. It was a much more taxing, more serious matter that drained his energy so quickly.

Nearly a year had passed since he had gotten a job at this record store, thanks to his friend's recommendation to Boss. It had been a way to get back on his feet after the band disbanded, but it was also an easy escape when life threw lemons his way. Whenever he felt like it, he could pop in a demo - whatever he wanted - and let the music calm his nerves, helping him forget the stresses of reality. All for free. It wasn't a perfect life, but it was certainly a relaxing one, much more so than the one he had chosen right out of high school. Maybe he was a simple man after all.

The trouble started at the beginning of March. It was sleeting, and the record store was empty, as it was more often than not. His friend was out back smoking, leaving Hiroaki to tend to the front and whatever customers - if any - came in. As if anyone would be out in this weather, he had told himself, yawning.

With his mouth wide open and his eyes clamped shut, he heard bells jingling. He shuddered from the blast of cold air that escaped through the open door, but as soon as it slammed shut and all was quiet again, he noted a change in the sounds of the store. It sounded like someone panting. Finishing one last yawn, he forced himself to open his droopy eyelids.

From the looks of it, she was a foreigner no older than 21. Her golden hair dripping wet, she gripped her blue-print Mackintosh coat tightly. The hem of her skirt was completely drenched, as were her leg warmers and ballet flats. One might say she looked pitiful after running through all that precipitation, but there was something about her that still made her seem radiant. Hiroaki thought so, at least.

"W-welcome," he stuttered in English, not knowing what nationality she was. She must not have noticed him when she came in, because she startled at the sound of his voice. Her look of bewilderment as her blue eyes met his brown ones was still attractive.

"Excuse me," she said in perfect Japanese, "I didn't see you there."

"No, not at all!" he stumbled over his native tongue. "C-can I help you with anything?"

"Actually," she began, shuffling her dainty feet, "I was just looking for a place to get out of this weather, but if it's a problem, I can go somewhere else."

"No!" Hiroaki practically yelled. "No, it's fine, you can stay here as long as you'd like! It doesn't bother me!"

Her sheepish look suddenly transformed into a beautiful smile as she thanked him; he never thought it possible, but the dark corners of the back wall, a place where even the sun's rays never touched, were lit up with her natural warmth and glow.

Hiroaki was completely oblivious to the opening and closing of the heavy back door, although he came to his senses a bit when the smell of smoke reached his nostrils. His mind fully returned to Earth when he saw his friend approach the drenched woman so easily.

"Hello there, madame," he greeted in a strange accent. "Might I help you with anything? Perhaps you are looking for an orchestral recording by a one Leonard Bernstein? Or maybe you are interested in the romantic sounds of Europe? Or could it be that you have a new age taste for J-pop?"

"Actually," she replied with a smile, "I'm just waiting out the rain."

"Oh?" He leaned in closer and took her hand in his. "Might you be French, madame?"

"Yes. Yes I am!" she answered, blushing at his observation. "How could you tell?"

"Ah, you see, women of all nationalities are beautiful, but there is a certain beauty that is unique to the French. I see it in your eyes. My name is John, but for you, I can be Jean." He kissed her hand. She giggled. Hiroaki wanted to slug his friend; he was such a flirt!

The two of them spent the better part of fifteen minutes talking about whatever popped up - baseball, national landmarks, the great coffee across the street - all of which Hiroaki chose to ignore out of annoyance. Before long, the rain let up, and the young woman waved farewell to the two employees. And even though they had exchanged only a few words, she had left quite an impression on Hiroaki, so much that he couldn't stop thinking about her, especially when she began frequenting the coffee shop with a friend not long after. Needless to say, Hiroaki was a fool for her.

The jingling of bells and the sound of running feet snapped Hiroaki out of his daydream. Looking around, he saw John - now called Jean - run in with a coffee in each hand.

"Customers, Hiro! We have customers!" he announced excitedly. "Get in there and take care of it!"

"You take care of it," he said nonchalantly.

"Why? So you can stay back here, drooling and daydreaming about your beloved? Get out there or I'll kick you out there!"

Grumbling, Hiroaki got off his butt - remembering the last time his former-soccer-star friend resorted to the latter option - and proceeded to the front.

"Hello, welcome to Best Records! Can I help you-"

Jean might as well have kicked him, because Hiroaki suddenly felt the wind knocked out of him, and his lower half became paralyzed. The customers - holding their half-finished coffee mugs - were the French woman and her friend!

"Hi," the French woman greeted with the same radiant smile, "long time no see."

"Y-yeah!" the stunned man returned.

"How have you been?"

"Great!"

"That's good to hear. I don't think I introduced myself properly. My name's Takaishi Natsuko. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Even with the many times he had written and answered to his name, he - for the love of Buddha! - could not bring himself to hold it in his conscience long enough to utter it. All he could do was stand there, frozen like a statue, feeling like a complete idiot.

"This here's my good buddy, Ishida Hiroaki!" Jean joined in, saving the poor man from further embarrassment. "You'll have to forgive him. He gets a little tongue-tied around strangers."

Natsuko and her friend giggled.

"Well, I don't think we're strangers anymore, Hiroaki-san," Natsuko said, still smiling.

"Say girls," Jean began, "Hiro and I have Saturday off. How would you two like to join us for some coffee? Say, around one, across the street?"

"We'd love to!" came the simultaneous reply.

The rest of the conversation went by in a blur. The next thing Hiroaki knew, Natsuko was waving goodbye to him again, only this time, she called him by his name. After the front door closed behind them, Jean slapped his friend on the back again.

"You can thank me later," he said with a cheesy grin and retreated to the back room. Hiroaki remained standing at the counter, his mouth hanging open and his blank eyes fixed on nothing in particular. A cursed bead of saliva mercilessly dropped onto the countertop, smudging the flawless glass. He just continued standing, dumbfounded, until the overwhelming shock pushed him like a wave onto the floor with a gigantic thud.

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A/N: I imagined this taking place sometime in the 1980's, hence the record shop location. I was born in the 1990's, so I'm just guessing at this decade. I apologize for any inaccuracies I have and may write ^_^'


	2. Date

A/N: Hey everyone! First off, SO SORRY this is late! You see, there's this distraction called life, and in life, one sometimes has to take tests, and sometimes, two tests are scheduled on the same day... but I was victorious ^_^ I've decided that I don't want this story to drawl on longer than it needs to, so I'll be making the chapters as short and sweet as possible. Also, I'll be sticking to the biweekly update, so no new chapter next week :( But please still look forward to the next one! And THANK YOU to everyone who has alerted this or reviewed so far! You have admirable patience ^_^ Enjoy!

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**Chapter Two: Date**

Takaishi Natsuko tapped the glass nervously while the phone rang on the other end of the line. She had trouble concealing her jitteriness when a female voice answered.

"Michiru, where are you?" she practically yelled into the receiver. "You said we'd meet up fifteen minutes ago!"

"Oh, uh, sorry, Natsuko," Michiru apologized. Her speech was spattered with coughs. "I, uh… cough… seem to have… cough cough… gotten sick… COUGH! Tell… cough… tell Jean-san and Hiroaki-san… COUGH… sorry, COUGH! Have fun, okay? COUGH! Bye!"

With a click, Michiru's voice disappeared, leaving Natsuko much more antsy than she had been all week. She could call it off, postpone this coffee date on a day when Michiru wasn't ill, but she willed herself against instinct. She had been waiting for this day for months! She refused to wait any longer!

Stepping out of the phone booth, she saw the two guys just arriving and gave a friendly wave; they did likewise. Hiroaki was wearing a simple polo shirt that was tucked into his rather slimming jeans; Jean was more flamboyant in his fashion, donning a brown vest with fringes, matching cowboy boots, and a hand-woven headband of clay beads. Natsuko chuckled to herself, thinking of how much of their personalities was revealed through their outfits. Jean was certainly more outgoing and conversational, but despite Hiroaki's generally reserved and quiet nature, she found him equally as interesting - if not more so - than Jean. There was just something about him that made him, well, memorable. Maybe it was the way he stared into space whenever the record shop was empty. Maybe it was the way he seemed to lose his composure whenever she approached. Or maybe - just maybe - it was the simple fact that she had run into the shop that stormy day because she saw him first.

"Good afternoon!" she greeted with her natural charm. "I'm afraid Michiru's in bed sick, so she won't be joining us."

"Really?" the guys exclaimed simultaneously.

"Y-yeah. I don't want to be pushy, and if you guys want to do this later-"

"No!" they responded simultaneously again. Natsuko laughed.

"Okay then." And with that, the threesome proceeded into the coffee shop.

Seated in their booth by the wall, Jean was the loudest and most talkative, of course, practically quizzing the other two on their likes and dislikes and personal interests and disinterests. Natsuko willingly complied, all the while eyeing Hiroaki across from her, who remained as stiff and abrupt in his responses as ever. The conversation was lacking in conversation, to say the least.

In spite of such bland topics, Hiroaki and Natsuko did in fact discover things about the other that they thought were worth noting. He found out that she was a student of Tokyo Gakugei University, where she studied journalism. She found out that he was in his second year of community college but hoped to transfer soon to a university to pursue a career in television production. He found out that she was three-quarters French and a quarter Japanese - hence her Japanese name - and lived most of her life in Paris, only moving to Tokyo within the last two years. She found out that he moved to Tokyo after elementary school and used to play bass guitar in a band he formed with some friends from junior high. He discovered that she was very much like the café au lait that she ordered. She was surprised at his order of espresso, wondering how he could remain so calm with such a strong beverage.

Soon enough, the man and the woman were completely entranced with the other, desiring to discover more about this new acquaintance. What he had yet to discover was that she was a third-year high school student at Tokyo Gakugei's elevator school. What she had yet to discover was that his band had attempted to make it big right after high school - the members choosing to delay college, if at all - and that his next birthday would mark 23 years. But these revelations could wait; all the two individuals wanted was to enjoy this moment while it lasted.

"Well would you look at the time!" Jean declared boisterously. "I just remembered that I have to help a friend with something important. Don't mind me, you two, just stay here as long as you'd like!"

And without another word, Jean dashed through the front doors, leaving Hiroaki and Natsuko completely dumbfounded, dumbfounded that the opportunity to be alone had come so quickly! The moment felt so unreal, it almost seemed planned…

"S-so," Hiroaki said first without making eye contact, "you must be really busy, being a university student and all."

"Well," Natsuko began, "I doubt it's any different from community college."

Hiroaki didn't reply, not knowing what else to say. Natsuko kept silent as well, unsure if he'd remain interested if she continued. In spite of such things, it would be incorrect to say that they sat in awkward silence, however, because unknown to the other, each secretly wanted to stay like this - together, undisturbed, and so close.

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"What do you mean you left!" Jean shouted angrily. "You didn't even offer to walk her home? Pay her tab? Help her cross the street? ANYTHING?"

Hiroaki kept silent as he placed records on the shelves. When the two returned to work that Sunday, Jean immediately demanded details of the coffee date. Unfortunately, Hiroaki had none to give, because, as stated previously, he "left."

"For goodness sake, Hiro! I set you up perfectly for the perfect first date with your dream girl, and you just LEFT?"

"I didn't just leave," the slightly annoyed employee finally retorted. "She said her father expected her home by 3, and she wasn't sure about the train schedule."

"So you left!" Jean continued. "Just because she had to be home. Bull crap, man! Total bull! How can a successful university student like Na-chan still live at home with her parents!"

"They just moved here, after all…"

"That was two years ago!"

"Will you just knock it off!" Hiroaki screamed, dropping the box of records onto the carpeted floor. "Don't you think I knew it was the perfect opportunity? Don't you think I wanted to spend more time with her? Don't you think I feel like a bigger idiot than you're making me out to be?"

"Fine, okay! Cool down, man!" the intimidator - now somewhat intimidated himself - replied. "I'm just saying, it's frustrating when your buddy undoes all your hard work so easily."

"Trust me, it wasn't easy…"

The room that had been filled with screams only a moment ago now seemed eerily quiet as the two men sighed deeply. The only other sound was the faint melody of a demo playing over the speakers.

"I'm going out," Hiroaki said as he headed for the back door.

"Need a smoke?" Jean called after him, holding out his pack and lighter. Without a word, the defeated man swiped the items out of his hand and resumed his trek to the back alley. The heavy door slammed behind him with extra force. All alone in the moderate-size space, Jean scratched his head, a look of concern on his face.

"Those two aren't getting anywhere," he observed with another sigh. "Maybe I should help them out."

Jean then headed for the phone behind the counter. Flipping through the phonebook, he found what he needed and dialed the accompanying number. He tapped the glass furiously as it rang multiple times until a woman's voice answered.

"Yumi? … Sorry, Aki. Is Lucy there? … What do you mean there's no Lucy! I just saw her there last- … oh, she goes by Monica now? … Well then, is Monica there? … Can I speak with her? … Yeah, I'll hold… Man, what a fickle girl! I mean, what kind of person changes names every few months!"

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"So, you go by Charles now?"

"Yeah, I saw a news report on the royal family and decided it was high time for a name change," Jean - now called Charles - explained to Monica, formerly known as Lucy.

"Whatever," the booth manager replied with sarcasm. "So anyway, whom am I setting up with Madoki?"

"Hiroaki!" Charles corrected. "Don't you dare screw up something as insignificant as a name!"

"Insignificant?" Monica raised an eyebrow.

"That doesn't matter!" retorted Charles. "What does matter is that my boy gets the girl by the time the fireworks start! And her name is Natsuko. Don't mess that up either!"

"Sure, the only way that'll happen is if she decided to change her name since last week."

"Just stick to the plan!"

"Fine, fine, I will, don't get your panties in a bunch," she assured him, holding her hands in the air.

At that moment, Charles spotted Hiroaki and Natsuko approaching the park entrance; Hiroaki's hands were shoved far into his pockets, and Natsuko's gripped her purse strap delicately. The observer slapped his forehead with a scowl.

"Is that them?"

"Yeah…"

"Aww, they look adorable!"

"Well that's not the point of this date, now is it?"

"I know," Monica said with a smile of mischief. "Operation Perfect Second Date, commence!"

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A/N: I'm not a coffee person and know nothing about coffee. What I was trying to say was that Natsuko's sweet and Hiroaki drinks a lot of sugar/caffeine for being a reserved guy. Hope that clears up things ^_^'


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Digimon, Romance