Karen: Hey, Jyou. You better get ready for your cameo in this story, that uses characters that belong to Toei.

Jyou: Huh? I’m in a story, that is not making any profit?

Karen: Hai. This part is even told from your perspective.

Jyou: I get a perspective?

Karen: Sou desu.

::Jyou weeps for happiness::

Iori: So, when do I get a cameo?

Karen: Who are you? ::puzzled expression::
Iori: I’m Iori!

Karen: Uhhhh . . .

Iori: I’m the Chosen Child who has the Crests of Knowledge and Faith.

Karen: Ummm . . . You’re neither Koushirou nor Jyou, right?

Iori: I’m Takeru’s jogress-partner!

Karen: YOU’RE RESPONSIBLE FOR THE TRAVESTY THAT IS "I’M A LITTLE TEAPOT"-MON??? THAT’S THE ONLY ANGEMON-EVOLUTION I DON’T LIKE!!!!

Iori: Eep.

Karen: AND THAT MEANS YOU DON’T RESPECT THE BATPIG!!!!

Iori: Double eep.

Patamon: I’M NOT A PIG!

Jyou: Let’s draw a curtain on this inanity and insanity, and get on with our story. It has me in it. ^.^

---

EDUCATING MR MOTOMIYA

PART 7

"What is the capital of Australia?" Jyou asked patiently.

"Too easy. It’s the letter A," Daisuke replied blithely, "Let’s wait for Takeru before we do anymore. I’m sure he needs this session more than me."

Jyou glanced despairingly at Hikari, who shrugged and looked apologetic. When Takeru had phoned him to ask him to help with their preparation for the Brainbuster Challenge, he had been flattered and a little surprised. Most of their friends automatically went to Koushirou or Ken whenever they had a problem with their schoolwork. It had been nice to think that they had chosen to come to him - good, old, reliable Jyou - for a change.

After half-an-hour of quizzing Daisuke, the gloss had completely rubbed off of that. So far, he had said that the periodic table was where scientists sometimes ate supper, that a square root grew from square trees and that one of America’s major exports was Leonardo di Caprio. Worst of all, he seemed absolutely oblivious to his ignorance. He had answered every question Jyou had put to him with a cocky grin and a comment about how easy it was.

With a deep sigh, he turned his attention back to the younger boy. Daisuke was perched on the edge of the desk, kicking his legs in front of him and tossing a silver photoframe from one hand to the other. He was whistling something tuneless that might have been the themesong to "Titanic" or "Mary Had a Little Lamb".

"Please be careful. That’s a photograph of the first time we went to the Digital World," the older boy said nervously, "I’d hate for it to get ruined."

With an apologetic grimace, the boy replaced it on the desk and twisted to look at it. Jyou did not need to do the same to know what the frame contained. It was the one Andromon had taken after they had defeated the final Dark Master. It showed all of the Chosen Children, their Digimon and the friends that had helped them. All of the Chosen Children had a copy, and, although some of them were reluctant to admit it, it meant a lot to all of them. He had even seen a copy on Yamato’s mantelpiece, although the boy had been quick to hide it, mutter that the frame had been a present and he had had to put something in it. Suddenly, Daisuke began to laugh.

"That . . . that little, blond kid . . . with . . . the - the green hat . . . that’s not Takeru, is it?" he managed to gasp between bursts of laughter.

"It’s certainly not Yamato," Hikari said, a dangerous edge to her voice.

"But . . . but he’s . . . he’s shorter than you, Hikari!" Daisuke continued obliviously, almost weeping with laughter, "And . . . I didn’t think . . . ha-hats came worse than his current one, but . . . he’s just proved me wrong!"

Uneasily, Jyou looked back at Hikari. She was the sweetest, most even-tempered girl he had ever met. She was the last to pick a fight, and the first to stop other people’s. When she got angry, however, it was a good idea to put a few continents between you and her. And, at the moment, she looked ready to throw the thick, science textbook she was holding at Daisuke. Evidently picking up on her partner’s mood, Tailmon’s tail was swishing and her eyes had narrowed into slits.

"Shut up, Daisuke! None of that matters," she yelled, "What matters is the way Takeru faced Puppetmon all by himself to help his brother. What matters is the way he watched over me when I was sick, and made sure that I was fine. What matters is the way that he pretended not to be scared when we were in the sewer and Machinedramon was after us. What matters is the way that he made me climb the rope first so I would be able to escape Piedmon, and the way that he didn’t let go of my hand once when we were falling off of it. What matters is . . . . " Hikari choked off in mid-sentence, suddenly pale. Her hand went to her mouth, as if she wanted to prevent any other words coming out by accident.

"Hikari?" Daisuke asked, sounding worried, "Are you okay?"

Concerned, Jyou hurried to her side to check if she were fine, and saw the cause of her distress. Standing in the door, a bright blush staining his cheeks and an uncomfortable smile on his face, was Takaishi Takeru. A sleepy-looking Patamon occupied his usual perch on his partner’s head, his wings drooping, and his eyes half-closed. Lifting his hand in a half-wave, the boy said: "Uh, hi. I’m sorry I’m late, but I had to stop by the station to get last year’s questions from my dad. Your mom let me in, and I . . . um . . . . Should we get started?"

---

TBC

---

I know it is very, very short. I’m *officially* back at University, and I didn’t have time to write anything longer. At the same time, though, I didn’t want to stall the story. Anyway, someone requested a bit of Takari in the ‘fic, so he or she can consider this my answer to his or her request. Again, don’t consider this Daisuke bashing. It’s being told from Jyou’s perspective. Keep in mind the way in which Daisuke answered Hikari’s question in the last part, and why. And, frankly, I adored Chibi Takeru in season 1, but that hat was . . . I wrote a ‘fic about that hat to explain it away, if that shows my feelings on the subject. :)