[Image ID: pictures of Taichi and Yamato across the years, fighting, hugging and high fiving. The picture reads "if a rivalry lasts longer than 7 years, then you are no longer rivals. You are gay". End ID]
The sun shone obtrusively against Taichi’s goggles, momentarily blinding Yamato. It was uncharacteristically warm for the beginning of the year, both boys discarding their jackets as soon as they stepped foot onto the soccer pitch.
“Just one game. Please.” Taichi’s eyes were wide and hopeful, and even at the tender age of twelve, Yamato knew he would do whatever it took to keep that look on Taichi’s face.
“Only because you asked so nicely.”
Goggles nestled tightly in his hair, Taichi took off, flying across the half-frozen field. Yamato could see his own breath, quick bursts of fog that temporarily obscured his vision. Growing up with a single father had equipped him with a vague understanding of sports. Still, Yamato’s basic understanding was no match for Taichi’s prowess. Brown hair fluttered in the wind, smile brighter than the sunshine. It had taken Yamato’s breath away, but only for a moment. Muscles burning, Yamato pushed himself faster, further, trying to be a worthy opponent.
It had only taken them four matches to tire out, leaning helplessly against a nearby bench.
Half of a bottle of water tight in his grasp, Taichi’s chest heaved with exertion. “You know,” he started, words broken up between gasps of breath. “I didn’t know you could play like that. Why don’t you sign up for a team, or something?”
Blond hair plastered to his forehead, Yamato paused for a moment. Words gathered on the tip of his tongue, almost shattering their silence. ‘I only like soccer when I play with you.’
His teeth bit back the odd confession, heart beating haphazardly. Where had that come from? Taichi raised an eyebrow, patiently waiting for a response. Blue eyes met brown, Yamato’s throat growing uncomfortably dry. He managed a shrug, gripping his water bottle with white knuckles.
Taichi’s hair was tousled, sticking up in all directions. Usually, Yamato would tease him about it, but the sun illuminated his golden skin, eyes shining with happiness and what was happening?
For a moment, Taichi’s bottom lipped puffed out in disappointment. “But we could be teammates, Yama.”
“Aren’t we already?” It was meant to come out light-hearted; a joke to lift Taichi’s spirits. Instead, a shadow cast itself underneath chocolate eyes, a chill in the air that not even the sun could chase away.
The soccer ball fidgeted in Taichi’s hands. It had only been a few months after their endless summer together; Yamato’s heart ached for Gabumon.
“Of course we are, Taichi.” His hand reached out towards his best friend, grasping him with trembling fingers. “It’s just hard, right now.”
Without warning, the soccer ball flew from Taichi’s hands, a singular kick projectiling it towards the other side of the field. “This blows, man. It’s Valentine’s, and I can’t even show Agumon all the good candy.”
A laugh escaped from Yamato’s lips, loud and brash. “You know what, Taichi? You’re right; Agumon would’ve loved tasting all of your chocolates. Maybe we should go out and buy some in his honor.” Yamato lifted his water bottle to his lips, taking a large sip as he caught his breath.
Taichi’s face spun towards him, eyes flickering through emotions. Finally, he settled on hope, a goofy grin working its way onto his face. “It’s a date!”
