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Taichi didn’t mean to get into a fight with Yamato. Not at the DigiDestined reunion, not while soaking wet, and definitely not while half-naked in a hallway with no working AC.
But somehow, as always, Yamato said one thing and his brain imploded.
It had started innocently. A bunch of them were staying the weekend at a lakeside villa Mimi booked for August 1st. Everyone had arrived in good spirits, full of nostalgia and sunscreen. Then the microwave broke. Yamato’s microwave.
Technically, Taichi might have nuked a cup of instant noodles in it and forgotten to add water. In his defense, he was tired, hungry, and didn’t think that little explosion would lead to his eternal shame.
But Yamato had spent fifteen minutes wiping burned miso out of the microwave, and now—
“I told you not to grab it without asking,” Yamato snapped, holding the charred manual behind his back like a sacred text.
“I thought I could just heat it up!” Taichi flung his arms out, wet hair plastered to his forehead from the lake.
“Oh, please. You act like you knew what you were doing, then the moment you got your hands on it, it’s chaos!”
Taichi’s eye twitched. “You’re being dramatic.”
Yamato stepped forward, shirtless and dripping from the lake too, his chest still damp. “Say that again.”
“You’re. Being. Dramatic.”
Yamato scoffed, leaning in until Taichi could see the angry twitch in his eyebrow. “Then maybe stop touching my thing when you don’t know how to handle it.”
[LIVE: HikariYagami started a livestream]
Viewers: 12.4K
Chat:
“WHAT IS HAPPENING???”
“they are fighting like they’ve been married for ten years and I'm eating it up”
“TOUCHIN WHAT?? HANDLE WHAT???”
“Yamato: ‘stop touching my thing’ 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀”
Yamato’s lip curled. “You don’t listen. You never do.”
“I try!” Taichi barked back. “But the moment I do, you get all weird and angry”
“I’m trying to keep things intact! You keep putting your fingers in places they don’t belong!”
Chat:
“OH. OH THEY ARE UNHINGED.”
“fingers in where, Taichi?? 👀 Why are you two half naked👀”
“this is the couple soft launch of the century”
“TAICHI X YAMATO IS REAL!”
“Why can’t you just tell me when something matters this much to you?!” Taichi exploded.
Yamato growled. “Because you matter and you’re a disaster!”
Taichi blinked. “Wait—what?”
“SHUT UP!” Yamato shouted, ears going pink. “That came out wrong.”
“You just said I matter.”
“I meant—you’re a mess! That matters to no one! Especially not to me!”
“Wow,” Taichi muttered, rubbing his face. “You’re real bad at this.”
Chat:
“taichi: 😳 yamato: 😖 hikari: 📱”
“every line sounds like a divorce from a marriage they haven’t admitted to”
“someone make this a J-drama immediately”
Finally, Hikari cleared her throat.
They both turned slowly to see her standing in the doorway, holding her phone up.
“…You’re live,” she said.
Taichi blinked. Yamato blinked.
The world blinked with them.
“You’re joking,” Yamato said.
“Fourteen thousand people,” she added helpfully. “And counting.”
Taichi’s heart left his body. “You streamed all of that?!”
“Most of it,” she said brightly. “Especially the part where Yamato yelled ‘stop touching my thing.’ That really resonated with the audience”
Yamato let out a noise that could only be described as internal implosion.
Taichi made it worse by shouting, “We weren’t talking about anything weird!”
“Sure,” Hikari deadpanned. “Anyway, you’re trending. #UnclothedAndUnhinged is… popular.”
Yamato turned on his heel and walked straight into a wall.
Taichi flailed. “Why are we shirtless?!”
“We were hot” Yamato said through gritted teeth.
“And now we’re doomed!”
And that’s how the fandom — and the world — got its first taste of TaiYama.
Through a livestream. Through accidental innuendo. Through a fight about Yamato's stupid microwave.
And absolutely, unmistakably, without shirts.
Taichi wasn’t sure what was worse: being shirtless on a livestream in front of fourteen thousand people, or being shipped with Yamato by literally everyone they knew.
Actually, no—he knew what was worse.
It was Mimi barreling into the living room, shrieking, “GUYS. GUYS. I JUST NAMED THE SHIP,” while holding up her glittery pink phone like it was the Olympic torch.
Taichi, still towel-drying his hair from the lake and trying not to combust from secondhand embarrassment, blinked at her.
Yamato, still somehow wet and fuming, didn’t blink at all.
“No,” Yamato said flatly.
“Yes!” Mimi beamed. “You’re TaiYama now. I posted it!”
Taichi opened his mouth, failed to find words, and closed it again.
Yamato looked like someone had hit him with a frying pan. “You what?”
Mimi was already typing furiously. “#TaiYama. It’s perfect. It’s iconic. It’s gay.”
“We’re not—” Yamato’s voice cracked and went up an octave. “We’re not anything!”
Taichi glanced over at him. Anything.
For some reason, that word stuck in his chest. He wasn’t even sure why. It’s not like he wanted to be anything. Right?
“You were shirtless, yelling face to face at each other about touching and handling each other's things while staring directly into each other’s eyes,” she said. “Do you know how many comments think you've been secretly dating for years?”
“WE’RE NOT.”
Jyoe winced. “Yamato, dude, volume.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, am I yelling?” Yamato snapped, turning to him with the fire of a thousand suns. “Whose idea was the microwave in the first place?!”
“It wasn’t an idea, I was hungry!” said Taichi
“You always do this!”
“You always get mad when I breathe!”
Mimi clapped once like she was moderating a talk show. “See? That unresolved tension? That history? That's content. That’s slow-burn, enemies to lovers gold.”
Taichi wanted to sink into the couch. Or the floor. Or possibly the lake. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because you’re adorable,” she said sweetly, before flashing him her screen. “Look!”
#TaiYama was already trending. Not just locally—globally. Meme edits were popping up within minutes. The clip of their argument, shirtless, was already being spliced with romantic piano music and overly saturated filters.
One tweet read:
“This is the rawest domestic couple energy I’ve ever seen.”
Another:
“TaiYama is real and Yamato’s ears turning red is the proof.”
Taichi peeked at Yamato.
Yamato’s ears were, in fact, very red.
...Okay, that was kinda cute. Not that Taichi was thinking about that. Not really.
And now Yamato was shrinking into the collar of his shirt like a turtle trying to avoid global shipping discourse “I’m going to die.”
“You can’t,” Hikari said from the hallway, still holding her phone. “You’re trending.”
“This isn’t happening,” Yamato muttered, backing toward the kitchen like it was a safe zone.
“You started it!” Taichi called after him, half-defensive and half-panicked. “You’re the one who got mad!”
“You destroyed the microwave!”
“It was a little fire!”
“It exploded!”
“I put it out!”
“With my towel!”
“It worked!”
“YOU RUINED MY RAMEN.”
Mimi gasped like he’d said something unforgivable. “You were making ramen for him?”
“I WAS NOT.”
“You totally were.”
“It wasn’t—!” Taichi stopped, caught himself, and groaned. “This is insane.”
Yamato made a noise that sounded vaguely like a dying Digimon and bolted up the stairs.
“He’s running,” Iori observed.
“He’s gonna bury himself in a closet,” Jyou muttered.
Mimi turned her phone so he could see her feed.
The top tweet under #TaiYama said:
“When will they admit they're canon?”
Taichi blinked. “We can’t even microwave noodles without fighting.”
Mimi winked. “Marriage energy.”
Taichi didn’t respond.
But he also didn’t deny it.
Yamato had vanished after the livestream. Literally vanished. One second they were shirtless and arguing about a microwave (which, okay, sounded like foreplay to the entire internet), and the next, Yamato was gone.
Taichi was trying not to spiral. Which was hard, because everyone else was spiraling for fun.
“THE POLL IS CLOSED,” Mimi announced from the living room, waving her tablet above her head like a war horn.
Poll?
Taichi turned toward her just in time for Miyako to scream, “WE HAVE A BOTTOM!”
“Forty thousand votes,” Mimi added gleefully. “Yamato wins with 55 percent.”
Taichi nearly choked. “What poll?! Who authorized a poll?!”
“I did,” Takeru said, not looking up from his phone. “It’s for accuracy in my fanfic.”
“Which fanfic?”
Takeru smirked. “The one where my brother screams about your fingers on forbidden objects.”
Taichi felt his soul leave his body. “It was a microwave!”
“Was it?” Takeru said sweetly, fingers still flying over his screen. “Was it, Taichi?”
Before Taichi could combust, Ken walked in holding two mugs of tea like he was about to propose violence in the most polite way possible. Daisuke trailed behind, sulking like a dethroned prom queen.
Daisuke followed, looking grumpy.
“We used to be the hot couple,” Daisuke muttered. “The first couple. We were canon-adjacent. We were endgame.”
Ken patted his back. “You’re still my endgame.”
“I want #Daiken to trend again,” Daisuke whined. “We had lore!”
“Then we will,” Ken said. “We’ll take them down.”
Taichi blinked. “What?”
Daisuke pointed dramatically. “You may have gone viral for now, but Daiken walked so TaiYama could flail.”
“You’re shipping yourselves again?” Taichi asked, already emotionally bankrupt.
“We never stopped,” Ken said calmly.
Miyako gasped. “Oh my god. Ship war! I live for this!”
Takeru didn’t look up from his phone. “Make it a competition. I’ll write fanfics for both ships. Winner gets the NSFW chapter first.”
“TAKERU.”
“We’re boosting the hashtag,” Daisuke said. “#Daiken4Life. #MoveOverTaiYama. #StillTheSuperiorCouple.”
“You made hashtags?” Taichi asked.
Ken opened a laptop. “We’ve prepared a campaign.”
Miyako lit up. “I’ll judge it. Whoever gets the best trending meme wins.”
Daisuke clapped. “We already posted a throwback of our jogress sequence. With sexy saxophone music.”
“I’m going to die,” Taichi muttered.
But it got worse.
Because that’s when Yamato walked in.
Windblown. Ears pink. Eyes wide. Traumatized.
He saw the fanart on TV. He saw the hashtags. He saw the memes.
He saw one where he was Photoshopped into a wedding dress, Taichi was holding ramen like a bridal bouquet, and the caption read: “congratulations to Yamato for winning the bottom contest”
Yamato looked around like he was deciding who to murder first.
Taichi suddenly felt… weirdly nervous. Like, not because of the memes. Because Yamato looked genuinely overwhelmed, and Taichi’s gut twisted in a way he didn’t expect.
“You okay?” he almost asked—almost.
Yamato turned slowly. “I’m going to throw all of you into the lake.”
“No spoilers,” Takeru chirped. “That’s chapter ten.”
Daisuke snorted. “You're still a loser, even in canon.”
Yamato’s eye twitched. “You want to start a war, Motomiya?”
Ken opened his spreadsheet. “Already have.”
And just like that, the weekend reunion turned into a full-blown fandom war:
TaiYama vs. Daiken.
Bottom discourse.
Poll manipulation allegations.
Taichi wasn’t sure how it had come to this.
All he knew was:
-
He was apparently in a relationship.
-
That relationship was popular.
-
Yamato had just stormed out, threatening to pull them all into the digital world and kill them.
Taichi stared at the door.
And for the first time, he wasn’t just tired.
He was wondering what it would even mean if him and Yamato were something.
Taichi had fought MetalGreymon’s rogue evolution with his bare hands once. He’d faced apocalyptic threats. Given graduation speeches. Taken a Digimon to a vet.
And yet, none of that could have prepared him for Koushiro’s slideshow presentation on his love life.
“Alright, can we please stop interrupting,” Koushiro said in a strained voice, clicking to the next slide. “This is a scientific debrief.”
Behind him, the TV displayed a crisp title slide in Calibri:
‘Analysis of #TaiYama Phenomenon: A Viral Breakdown’
Taichi wanted to die. Maybe fall into the lake. Maybe let a Digimon eat him.
He glanced at Yamato, who was doing a very impressive job pretending to be absorbed in a mug of tea. His ears were still pink. His hoodie was zipped up like armor. His soul had left his body.
“You livestreamed shirtless flirting,” Miyako said.
“It wasn’t flirting!” Taichi snapped. “It was a microwave fight!”
“It was ‘domestic tension with unresolved feelings,’” Mimi corrected. “Which is why I submitted it to Koushiro for archiving.”
“You sent him what?” Yamato said hoarsely.
“I compiled the top fifty moments of romantic subtext, with Hikari's help” Mimi beamed.
“It’s seventy-two now,” Koushiro added, clicking to the next slide:
Slide 2: ‘Case Study—You Matter and You’re a Disaster™’
Taichi covered his face with both hands. “I’m gonna throw myself into the digital world sea.”
Joe sighed into a pillow. “I am too old for this.”
“I’m too young for this,” Iori muttered, looking like he’d aged five years.
Mimi sipped her tea. “Just let it happen. It’s like a car crash. With sparkles.”
“Slide three,” Koushiro continued grimly. “Reactions to the phrase ‘fingers where they don’t belong.’”
“I SAID WE WEREN’T TALKING ABOUT ANYTHING WEIRD,” Taichi yelled.
“Yet you trended on three separate platforms,” Koushiro said, motioning to a chart. “Including a forum where someone identified Yamato’s eyebrow twitch as a ‘critical moment of pining.’’”
Yamato made a sound like a dying server fan
“They’re calling him ‘Disaster King Taichi,’’” Miyako added helpfully, scrolling. “And Yamato is now canonically the ‘Emotionally Done and Still in Love.’”
Taichi blinked. “...That’s not the worst nickname I’ve had.”
“I need bleach,” Yamato mumbled.
“You need a PR team,” Ken said, flicking through his own phone.
“Where’s the next slide?” Mimi asked. “The one where the fandom decides they’ve been married for a decade.”
“Oh yes,” Koushiro clicked.
Slide 4: ‘Marriage Tropes in the TaiYama Tag (Charted by Popularity).’
Taichi could see the veins popping in Yamato’s forehead. He didn’t blame him. The pie chart was criminal. It had labels like ‘Definitely kiss when no one’s looking,’ ‘One bed trope confirmed,’ and ‘Yamato does all the yelling but Taichi is the troublemaker
“I’ve done nothing wrong in my life to ever deserve this,” Taichi muttered.
“You lit a microwave on fire,” Yamato shot back, voice quiet but tight. “Shirtless.”
“You were shirtless too!”
“Slide five,” Koushiro interrupted, deadpan. “Fan poll results.”
On screen:
Popular Dynamics – Final Tally
-
Yamato as the more emotional one: 50%
-
Taichi as the chaos instigator: 32%
-
Mutual disaster energy: 18% (note: ‘Expected much higher’)
Yamato let out a strangled noise. “WHAT TYPE OF POLL EVEN IS THIS?!”
“It’s called fandom engagement,” Takeru said cheerfully from the corner, typing furiously. “You’re welcome.”
“You’re writing another fic, aren’t you.”
“Three,” Takeru confirmed. “One of them’s rivals to lovers to husbands.”
“I want a lawyer,” Yamato muttered.
“You want a kiss from Taichi,” Daisuke teased.
Taichi… did absolutely not look at Yamato and how red his ears were.
Ken leaned over and deadpanned, “You can't tease them when we lost the top spot.”
“We didn’t lose,” Daisuke huffed. “#Daiken is just entering its villain arc.”
“You lost by 2,345 retweets,” Koushiro said helpfully.
Taichi slumped lower on the couch, head in his hands.
Because this wasn’t just a group reunion anymore.
This was a war.
And somehow… he and Yamato were losing. At least emotionally.
Meanwhile, Agumon and Gabumon were watching the viral video on someone’s tablet, like proud dads at a dysfunctional school recital.
Gabumon glanced at Agumon. “This is kind of like Jogress fusion, right?”
Agumon nodded sagely. “Two forces. Clashing. Combining. Creating legendary chaos.”
Gabumon said. “Like Omegamon, but with more shouting and less grace.”
Taichi overheard and muttered, “Great, now even my Digimon think we’re canon.”
Agumon winked. “Hey, chaos makes the best fusion.”
And then—bless her misguided heart—Sora tried to help.
She tweeted:
"They’re just friends everyone. Don’t read too much into it."
Almost immediately, the replies came crashing in like a tidal wave.
“ok denial queen”
“This misunderstanding? 👀” (with side-by-side pictures of Taichi and Yamato holding hands in front of Omegamon)
“Sora clearly hasn’t watched Digimon Adventure 1999”
Sora read the last one.
Sora sighed.
Then Sora silently stood, locked her phone, and jumped into the lake.
Mimi clapped. “Second time she gets ratio'd this week!”
The next day, Taichi was halfway through eating dry cereal straight from the box, still wearing the hoodie he’d slept in, when his phone buzzed with a notification that made his stomach drop harder than any Digivolution sequence.
Koushiro: Buzzfeed just published something. You’re trending. Again.
No greeting. No context. Just that.
He blinked at the message. Another ping. Then another.
With the grim resolve of someone opening a cursed scroll, he tapped the link.
“10 Times Taichi and Yamato Were Totally a Couple and We Ignored It”
by Buzzfeed Staff
He stared at it for a full five seconds.
Then choked on a mouthful of cereal.
“WHAT.”
He stumbled into the kitchen counter, wheezing. His phone slipped from his hand to the floor. He grabbed it again like it might run away, already scrolling.
There it was.
-
#1: “That time they held hands while their hearts were shot by arrows”
-
#3: “Taichi looking at Yamato like he was sunshine.”
-
#6: “Matching outfits?”
Each bullet point was worse than the last.
He sank to the floor.
“Nope. No. I didn’t ask for this.”
The group chat exploded.
Mimi was screaming in caps.
Sora had tweeted “It's a misunderstanding” and was already getting ratioed into another plane of existence.
Takeru was sending cryptic emojis.
Koushiro was live-updating a spreadsheets
Taichi opened Twitter.
#TaiYamaConfirmed
#UnclothedAndUnhinged
He closed Twitter.
For a brief moment, he considered contacting Buzzfeed.
Instead, he typed into the group chat:
Taichi: “What do I do.”
Mimi: “Embrace it.”
Jyoe: “Shut up for 24 hours minimum.”
Daisuke: “I want to die.”
Ken: “We have lost the popularity.”
Taichi: “What do you even mean!!”
Then he saw it.
A screenshot from the article. A zoomed-in still of that one press interview last year where Yamato had stared at him for four uninterrupted seconds while Taichi was nervously laughing at a question about “strong bonds.”
The caption:
“If this isn’t gay longing, what is?”
Taichi yeeted his phone into the couch cushions and let out a sound that was somewhere between a scream and a dying modem.
But the thoughts were still there.
Was that how Yamato looked at him?
Had anyone ever looked at him like that before?
Had he ever looked at Yamato that way?
...Oh no.
He groaned into his palms, the cereal box now sitting next to him like an accomplice.
He wasn’t—this wasn’t—he didn’t think he liked Yamato like that. Not really. Not until the internet started pointing things out.
And now?
Now he couldn’t stop thinking about what the internet was pointing out. Like the way Yamato’s hair curled at the nape of his neck. Or how he always tilted his head when he was listening—like he was cataloging everything Taichi said and pretending not to care.
He slapped both cheeks. “Nope. No. Get it together.”
Another ping.
“TaiYama Wedding ”
Taichi opened it.
It had aesthetic flower arrangements. Matching Digivices. Yamato in a powder-blue suit. Agumon and Gabumon officiating.
The worst part?
It looked good.
“No. Nope. I can’t—”
He slapped his hands over his face and groaned into his palms like it might smother the gay panic radiating from his very being.
By early afternoon, the chaos had escalated into something else entirely.
Buzzfeed followed up with a second article:
“Yamato and Taichi Might Be the Best Slow-Burn Ship of the century.”
Someone on TikTok edited their old battles into a romance trailer titled "Love Across Worlds."
Tumblr was tagging screenshots from digimon adventure with:
“This is where Taichi realized.”
“This is where Yamato broke.”
“Episode 3 is now gay-coded and we are correct.”
Somewhere during the breakdown, Taichi realized he hadn’t truly spoken to Yamato yet.
Not since the livestream. Not since the world decided they were fucking.
He hesitated with his phone in hand. Thought about finding Yamato.
Instead, he opened Instagram.
Immediately regretted it.
The fanart was… a lot.
One image had them drawn as angel Digimon, floating above a burning skyline. Another had Yamato sitting on Taichi’s shoulders, blushing while holding a flag that said “Just Digitally Married.”
Another—Taichi stared at this one a bit too long—had them kissing on a sunset rooftop with their Digimon cheering in the background.
His face was hot. Not metaphorically. Actually hot.
There was another ding.
A fresh message in the group chat.
Koushiro: “The analytics are wild. This is the most engagement the fandom has had since Digimon adventure tri.”
Iori: “Someone just sold a ‘I Survived the TaiYama Livestream’ shirt.”
Taichi: “I hate all of you.”
Takeru: “You’re welcome.”Mimi: “You love him 😏”
Taichi: “I am BLOCKING YOU.”
At 3:00 PM, his phone buzzed with a news alert.
“BREAKING: Sources Say Taichi and Yamato Are ‘More Than Friends’ According to People Who’ve Watched 200+ Hours of Their Interactions”
“A full breakdown of longing, shared trauma, and the digital bond that launched a thousand fanfics.”
Taichi stared at the ceiling.
Then at the hoodie sleeve bunched around his wrist. Yamato had worn it once. Just once. And it hadn’t fit right. But he hadn’t taken it off for hours.
His stomach twisted.
“…Oh no.”
He was in trouble.
Big, meme-level, Buzzfeed-certified trouble.
The day continued, as most modern tragedies do, with Sora trying to be helpful. Again
Taichi barely had time to rub his eyes and consider rejoining society when her tweet dropped.
@SoraTakenouchi:
“They’re really just friends, guys. Relax.”
Taichi groaned. “Oh no.”
Not because it was wrong, but because the internet did not do “relax.”
The replies were instant and vicious.
@DigiShipper69:
“Why does this adventure character acts like she knows anything”
@TaiYamaEdits:
“👁️👄👁️ Sora sweetie, this ain't you.”
@AngemonFeetLover:
“ratio + u gave up on love in 02”
Sora held out for maybe six minutes.
Then:
@SoraTakenouchi ➡ @NotSoraPlsStop
And just like that, she vanished for hours.
The only evidence she ever existed was the charred remains of her notifications and a tweet from Mimi that just read:
“Sora’s a survivor. Let her rest.”
While Sora disappeared, the Daiken Revenge Tour began.
Taichi stared at his phone as a new TikTok popped up, featuring Daisuke in full rage mode.
It opened with him mid-scream:
“WE. WERE. THE. MAIN. SHIP!!”
He was pacing, gesturing wildly at his phone, hair flying like a soap opera villain.
“TAIYAMA?? AFTER EVERYTHING I DID FOR KEN?? I HELD HIS HAND!! IN THE RAIN!!”
There were jump cuts. Dramatic zooms. At one point he accidentally knocked over a lamp and screamed louder.
Taichi couldn’t look away.
He barely had time to process that when Ken posted his response.
Simple. Elegant. Devastating.
Caption: “Daiken: The Underrated Canon Romance You All Forgot”
Background music: sad violin
Ken just sipped tea in silence while clips of him patching Daisuke up after battles played over pink filters.
The comments were feral:
“KEN YOU BEAUTIFUL BASTARD.”
“If Daiken has 1 fan, it’s me. If it has 0, I am dead.”
“Daiken forever.”
Koushiro, meanwhile, was still forecasting the apocalypse.
Taichi opened the group chat and saw a photo of Koushiro in a dark room, multiple monitors glowing, one displaying a Google Slides deck titled:
TaiYama : Week 1
Slide 1:
“Total Mentions: 6.4 million”
“Fan edits per hour: 700+”
“AO3 tags created today: 39”
Slide 2:
“Estimated memes per hour: 4,000+”
Slide 3:
“Global trend: 37 countries and counting.”
The group chat was a funeral.
Hikari: “Guys it’s not a big deal—”
Yamato: “we trended in Australia.”
Miyako: “You trended on LinkedIn.”
Daisuke: “You ruined my entire Sunday.”
Koushiro: “You’re now part of a university’s queer studies.”
Takeru: “I already started the fic: ‘Accidental Soulmates’”
Taichi: “Takeru why”
Takeru: “Why not?”
Taichi closed the chat and just… stared at the wall.
And then, as if summoned by the chaos...
Agumon and Gabumon started trending.
A fan account posted:
@DigimonMutuals:
“Real ones know these two saw it first.”
Beneath it: a photoset of Agumon and Gabumon watching Taichi and Yamato hold hands, tiny paws over their mouths like proud parents.
Someone else replied:
“If they held hands in the Digital World, what do they hold in the real one? 👀”
Taichi audibly screamed into his hands. Again.
A few days had passed.
Taichi had survived an avalanche of memes, three articles, several wedding edits, and a phone call from his mom, who had awkwardly congratulated him on “finally making things official with that handsome blond boy.”
Yamato’s dad had apparently called too. Yamato had not shared more details.
Taichi did not want to know.
All he knew was that the entire planet now thought they were dating.
And the problem was… he wasn’t entirely sure the planet was wrong.
Which was insane. It was Yamato. The same Yamato who once shoved him into a bush because of a disagreement. The same Yamato who smelled like expensive conditioner and always acted like Taichi was two seconds from doing something embarrassing.
And maybe he was.
Because now, after several days of spiraling and a truly upsetting amount of fanart, Taichi had spent exactly one sleepless night wondering what Yamato’s hair might feel like if he ran his fingers through it.
He had to get it together.
They both did.
Which was why they’d decided to fix it.
Or at least try.
Now Yamato was sitting on Taichi’s couch like he was bracing for a public trial.
Which, to be fair, wasn’t far off.
Hikari was crouched behind her phone like a cameraman in a war documentary, giving them a cheerful thumbs-up. “Okay, just be natural.”
Yamato scoffed softly. “Yeah. Because that’s been going fucking great so far.”
Taichi shot him a look. “We’re just clearing the air. How hard can it be?”
Yamato didn’t answer. He adjusted the sleeve of his sweater for the fifth time like it had personally offended him.
The live went up. The comments rolled in immediately. Hearts, laughing emojis, the occasional marriage proposals. Taichi smiled too wide. He was already sweating.
He glanced at Yamato, who looked like he was being held hostage by his own cheekbones.
“Hey, everyone,” Taichi began, waving . “Uh, so… we’re here to address the rumors.”
Yamato nodded stiffly. “Right. The, uh. The dating rumors.”
“We’re just friends,” Taichi said quickly.
A pause. Yamato’s eyebrow twitched.
“Yeah. We… hang out.” Yamato gave a nervous laugh that came out more like a wheeze. “Sometimes.”
“Not that much,” Taichi said, then immediately panicked. “I mean—he’s always kinda angry, and like, not fun to hang out with—”
Yamato turned to him slowly, blinking.
Taichi’s stomach flipped. “Wait! That’s not— I didn’t mean it like—!”
“No, it’s fine,” Yamato said coolly, standing up with the elegance of someone leaving an awkward date at a rooftop café. “I need to lie down.”
The chat was now… depressed.
Hikari, to her credit, had not stopped recording for even a second.
The live stream chat
"Did they just break up? You can’t break up if you’re ‘just friends’ unless—”
"This is more dramatic than the Myotismon arc."
"No one has ever said ‘I need to lie down’ more heartbreakishly."
"Hikari deserves an Emmy."
In the kitchen, Agumon and Gabumon stood side by side with bowls of popcorn.
“Digivolving is less dramatic than this,” Agumon said, mouth full.
Gabumon nodded. “Do you think it’s safe to go in there?”
“No,” said Agumon. “But I do think this stream needs a Season 2.”
Taichi stepped out onto the porch with a mug of something that was probably tea.
Yamato was already there, sitting on the railing, hoodie up, knees drawn up.
“Hey,” Taichi said.
“Hey,” Yamato echoed, not looking at him.
Silence. Crickets. Possibly ghosts.
“I wasn’t trying to be a jerk on stream, I didn't mean any of that,” Taichi said. “I was just nervous. You know, like... cameras and fourteen thousand strangers waiting to clip us into a gay youtube video.”
“I know,” Yamato muttered. “I’m just—this whole thing is stupid. And loud.”
Taichi chuckled. “Yeah. But your ears did get red. That didn’t help our case.”
“They’re always red,” Yamato grumbled.
Taichi watched him for a second, then softly added, “They’re cute.”
Yamato glanced at him, startled.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Taichi took a long sip of tea. “Just saying what Buzzfeed said.”
Yamato snorted. “You’re the worst.”
“You like me anyway,” Taichi said before he could stop himself.
Yamato didn’t respond.
He didn’t run, either.
Taichi swirled his tea around in the mug, then made a face.
“I didn’t know it would get this big,” he admitted. “The stream. The memes. The shipping polls....”
Yamato dragged a hand down his face.
“I mean,” Taichi added quickly, “not that it’s, like—bad. I’ve just never had to think this hard about my... sentences that I use with someone else”
Yamato side-eyed him. “We were fighting and yelling.”
“Sure, but like... in a weird way.”
Yamato buried his face in his knees.
Taichi leaned against the porch.
He cleared his throat. “Does it bother you? That people think we’re—uh. Something.”
Yamato was quiet for a long beat.
Then: “Not... as much as I thought it would.”
Taichi blinked.
Yamato continued, voice low, “It’s annoying, sure. But it’s not... wrong-wrong.”
Taichi’s brain short-circuited for a second. “Wait, what—”
Yamato stood abruptly, brushing off his jeans. “I’m going inside.”
“You just got out here!”
“I did my required five minutes of emotional vulnerability.”
Taichi scrambled. “You can’t just say stuff and then disappear!”
Yamato turned back, smirking faintly. “That’s literally my entire personality.”
Then, softer: “Goodnight, Taichi.”
And just like that, he vanished inside, leaving Taichi alone with his tea mug, one racing heart, and the quiet realization that the internet might not have been as wrong as he thought.
The internet exploded:
“Is this really a breakup??”
“#DigiDivorce is trending worldwide!”
“Someone get me a lawyer.”
In the group chat, Daisuke lost his patience.
Daisuke:
“Go apologize and kiss Yamato, you coward.”
Taichi:
typing furiously “For what, exactly?”
Ken:
“For turning the fandom into a soap opera.”
Daisuke:
“Kiss Yamato too, it's a dare”
Taichi:
“Excuse me???”
Ken:
“He won’t. Bet you 100 yen.”
Daisuke:
“Make it a thousand.”
Taichi, who had never backed down from a dare in his life — including the time he tried to Digivolve with a toaster — locked eyes with the group chat like it had personally offended his honor and his goggles.
Challenge accepted.
He stood up. Marched to Yamato, who was glaring at the ceiling like it had personally betrayed him.
Taichi put on his Best Serious Face™.
“Hey,” Taichi said.
Yamato blinked. “What now?”
Taichi cleared his throat. “Daisuke dared me to do this.”
And before Yamato could fully process that sentence, Taichi leaned down and kissed him.
It wasn’t awkward.
It should have been. Cameras, chaos, trauma, memes, popcorn-eating Digimon — but instead, Yamato’s lips were warm, and his hand curled around the back of Taichi’s neck like instinct.
Hikari was already filming.
Hikari:
“Guys, this is gold. #TaiYamaConfirmed 💋🎬”
Fandom:
“CANCEL THE DIVORCE..”
“I’m crying. Someone hold my Digivice.”
“I knew it. I KNEW they were canon.”
“They don’t even notice the camera anymore”
Takeru:
updating fanfic instantly
“Fusion Achieved.”
Joe:
"In my day, microwave fights didn’t cause gay awakenings"
Meanwhile, Ken and Daisuke shared a look.
Daisuke:
“I admit it. That was… impressive.”
Ken:
“Fine. But next time, do a dare with a dance.”
Taichi’s lips was still pressed against Yamato’s and the entire world blinked out. The noisy chat, Hikari's camera, the memes flooding every corner of the internet — none of it mattered.
Yamato’s arms wrapped around Taichi’s neck, his usual cool demeanor melting into something softer, something real. Taichi’s fingers tangled in Yamato’s hair as if afraid to let go.
Behind them, Hikari kept filming, trying not to laugh at how oblivious they were.
Taichi and Yamato stayed tangled together, completely immune to the world — their own little chaotic universe right there.
The kiss stretched on like a scene from an overly dramatic soap opera—slow, intense, and absolutely consuming. Taichi barely noticed when his phone started buzzing nonstop with notifications. Yamato, meanwhile, had forgotten what it was like to breath.
Hikari, still filming, whispered into the camera, trying not to giggle, “I don’t think they even realize the fandom is having a meltdown.”
Agumon and Gabumon were back with more popcorn.
Gabumon: “Is this the part where they jogress?”
Agumon: “Only emotionally.”
On the sidelines, Jyoe and Iori sighed.
Eventually, Taichi pulled back — barely. Just enough to breathe.
Yamato looked dazed. Blushing. Breathless.
And beautiful, of course. That was getting harder to ignore.
Taichi cleared his throat. “Sooo… uh. That happened.”
Yamato blinked. “You kissed me in front of the entire internet.”
Taichi grinned. “Yeah. So, uh… good or terrible?”
Yamato was quiet for a long beat. Then:
“Good. But also terrible.”
“That’s our brand,” Taichi said with a grin. “Disaster first, logic later.”
“That explains the microwave,” Yamato muttered, but he was smiling now
EPILOGUE
Mimi and Miyako,had already launched the hottest merch of the year — TaiYama vs Daiken hoodies. Sales were through the roof.
Koushiro, updated his chaos dashboard one last time. The graphs now resembled a rollercoaster designed by a mad genius, titled:
“TaiYama: Meme Impact Forever”
Takeru had somehow scored a Netflix deal for his gay book adaptation, Unclothed And Unhinged, which he swore was “100% based on real life events.”
The teaser tagline?
“They microwaved their hearts… and each other.”
Rotten Tomatoes gave it 98%. The 1% was Jyou and the other 1% was Iori
Hikari’s Patreon skyrocketed. Her tiers included:
-
$5/month: Exclusive livestream access
- $15/month: Daily polls: (Who blushed harder?)
-
$25/month: Leaked arguments + Takeru's behind-the-scenes book commentary
- $50/month: sneak- peak of Taiyama's intimate moments.. and kisses... and even more private moments 👀
Ken & Daisuke tried launching a rival Patreon.
“Daiken: Canon and Unbothered”
-
Exclusive dance battle rehearsals
-
Matching hoodie reveals
-
Bonus: Daisuke’s rants about losing the trending top spot (while still trending)
The patreon also did well as Daiken was still wildly popular.
And Sora? Well... she deleted Twitter for the tenth time, and no one even figured out why this time.
Taichi lounged on the couch, hoodie pulled tight, scrolling through the latest notifications. Beside him, Yamato sat half-curled into a hoodie — not his, absolutely not stolen, definitely not the one Taichi left in the laundry room on purpose.
“Think we’ll trend again?” Taichi asked, smirking.
Yamato, cheeks flushed, muttered, “If it happens , I’m suing you.”
Taichi’s grin widened. “Want me to make you forget all about the internet again?”
Yamato burrowed deeper into the hoodie, half-laughing, half-serious. “Yes please.”
Just as they were about to kiss, Hikari popped her head into the frame, phone raised. “Smile for the thumbnail!”
They exchanged a look — part exhaustion, part amusement — and smiled. The chaos might never end, but for now, they had each other.
It hit Taichi then, somewhere between the chaos and the calm: the day the livestream happened was August 1st. Odaiba Day. The same day they’d first gone to the Digital World years ago.
Apparently, fate had a sense of humor. Back then, they saved two worlds.
This time?
They were tired. In love. Viral. And absolutely doomed.
Meanwhile, out on the porch, Agumon and Gabumon sat in fold-out chairs like retired grandpas, sipping soda and elbow-deep in popcorn.
Agumon stared into the distance. “So… this is how their arc ends.”
Gabumon nodded solemnly. “We’ve defeated Dark Masters with less drama.”
Agumon took a long sip. “I always knew love was the final evolution.”
They clinked cans like it was champagne.
Behind them, the living room glowed from Hikari’s camera flash, faint muffled arguing about thumbnails echoing in the background.
Gabumon leaned over. “Do you think we’re gonna end up in an AU too?”
Agumon: “Buddy, I think we’re already there.”
Popcorn rustled. The saga continued.