higuchimon | [fanfic] Digimon Adventure 02: Aroma of Rain

Title: Aroma of Rain
Romance: Miyako x Jun (side hints of Ken x Daisuke)
Word Count: 999||Status: One-shot
Genre: Romance|Rated: G
Challenge: Word Counts Set Boot Camp, prompt #17, 999 words; Diversity Writing, section B12, write a fic between 950-999 words; 28 Days of Love Challenge, Day #13, one of the female Chosen 'shipped with someone who isn't a gogglehead; Pairing Diversity Challenge, #13, spark
Note: This was sparked by the request of an anon on tumblr who wanted me to write a Digimon f/f 'ship that I've never written before. And in all honesty, this was the only one I could think of.
Summary: Jun offers to help Miyako with her rain-soaked hair. Her hair that smells very good, feels very good, and is making Jun think things that she hasn't thought before.

Jun's fingers itched to get into Miyako's hair. She'd never really paid attention to it, or to Miyako herself, until the girl started to come over more after she and Daisuke became friends. Jun knew Miyako and had seen her at the Inoue apartment during her own visits there to see Momoe. She'd never noticed her.

Not like today, when lightning creased the skies outside, thunder rolled like the drums of God, and Miyako's hair lay in soaked hanks over her shoulders. Daisuke had brought her a towel and she pawed at the long locks, grumbling under her breath the whole time.

Jun liked boys. She'd never made a secret of that, paying especial attention to the cute ones. But once in a while some girl would catch her eye. She'd never let anyone know about that.

Now she found herself sitting down next to Miyako and held out her hand. “Hey, I can do that for you. I can get to the back better than you can.”

Miyako twisted around to look at her, blinking in confusion, before she pulled the towel off and handed it over. “Sure. All right.”

Jun didn't conceal the smile that lit up her eyes. No one around here would care anyway. Not with how Daisuke was busy trying to comb the water out of Ken's hair and everyone else being very busy ignoring that, mostly in favor of speaking with their Digimon.

Dry, Miyako's hair hung straight. Wet and wind-tossed, it clumped together into knots fit to make some people reach for the scissors. Jun would not do that. She'd seldom noticed Miyako or Miyako's hair, but now that she had, she wanted to make certain that it stayed just the way it always had.

“What kind of shampoo do you use? This smells wonderful,” Jun murmured. She didn't want to actually breathe the hair – that would've been too weird – but being as close as she was brought the fragrance anyway.

“Right now? Rainwater,” Miyako muttered. “I didn't have a chance to wash it before I came over.”

Jun's cheeks flamed red and she fumbled around for the comb she'd seen before she'd sat down. Her blush darkened even more when Miyako handed it to her, nearly poking her eye out in the process. “Thanks?”

She thought she heard Daisuke saying something and Ken shushing him. She would have to do something nice for Ken for that. She loved her brother, despite how much of a pain he was, and she didn't want to get upset enough to smack him. Not when she was having so much fun doing this. More fun than almost anything else she could think of doing at the moment, as well.

Jun turned her attention back to getting Miyako's hair smoothed and sorted out. She'd seen that Miyako's shoulders started off tense and annoyed when she'd first sat down, but the longer Jun worked, the more that tension slowly slipped away, and she finally let out a long, relaxed sigh.

“That feels really good,” she said, addressing the couch cushion more than she was Jun, at least from the way her attention seemed to be directed. She pulled her glasses off and rubbed at her eyes for a few moments. “Thanks a lot, Jun-san.”

Jun shook her head. “You can just call me Jun.” She didn't really like being all that formal anyway. She didn't know too many Motomiyas who did.

She kept on combing, even past the point where there were any more tangles to work out. The feeling of running the comb through long, completely tangle-free hair sent a glorious thrill all through her.

“Uh, Jun-sa… Jun?” Miyako started to turn around again. Jun let the comb fall from her hands, more from surprise than anything else. She hadn't even noticed when Miyako put her glasses back on.

“I'm sorry.” If her face got any redder, then it would've caught on fire. Jun knew it. She'd never reacted that way around any of the cute boys whose autographs she searched so hard for. A few thoughts on why skittered in the back of her mind, mostly involving not having actually been able to talk to any of them, not like she could to Miyako if she wanted to. When she wanted to?

Miyako reached to pick up the comb. “Hey, it's okay.” She sounded as if she didn't know what she was reassuring Jun about in the first place and Jun didn't want to say anything about that.

Jun pushed herself to her feet, brushed herself off, and grabbed the towel. “So, I'm going to -”

Thunder rolled. Claws of lightning reached across the dark sky. Lights flickered and went out. Jun stifled a cry of shock and took a step back into a tall warm body that she didn't recognize right away, but felt she should have, with that faint whisper of rainwater still clear in her nose.

Miyako. Miyako's hand rested on her shoulder and Jun drew in a sharp, staggering breath, trying to get her head sorted out and calmed down.

“Is everyone all right?” Daisuke's voice, clear and mildly annoyed, cut through the darkness. The answers came quick; no one was anything other than a little startled. Jun even managed to keep her voice calm, though how she did that escaped her for years to come.

Miyako's hand still remained on her shoulder. Jun didn't want to say anything to change that. She thought it even trembled a little, and if holding her shoulder helped Miyako, why say anything about it?

“I'm going to make some sandwiches,” Jun said at last, trying to finish what she'd started before the lights died. “Anyone hungry?” They were.

Miyako followed her into the kitchen with an offer to help. If that help ended up involving the touch of warm hands on hands and perhaps a brush of curious lips near another, then no one but the two of them needed to know.

The End