Chapter 125: Belle, You Have Gone Astray
In truth, Mimi and the other girls had succeeded in their mission.
After their deep conversation during the hot spring session, Belle had genuinely begun to ponder the complex nature of her relationship with Mizuki. She had looked contemplative, her brows furrowed in rare, serious thought about what it meant to be a girl standing beside the person she cared for most.
However, that deep maturity evaporated like steam from the bath. The state of quiet reflection lasted for a grand total of a few hours before all those complicated thoughts were unceremoniously shoved to the deepest, darkest corners of Belle's mind.
After all—
"I don't want to! I don't want to!"
Belle's voice echoed through the campsite, completely devoid of the maidenly reserve Mimi had tried so hard to instill.
"I am not sleeping away from Mizu! I want to sleep with Mizu! I cannot sleep without Mizu!"
Mimi stood there, her outstretched hand frozen mid-reach, staring blankly at the scene unfolding before her. Belle had buried her face entirely into Mizuki's chest, her arms locked around his waist like a vice.
Mizuki simply stood there, a helplessly fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He raised a hand, gently smoothing down Belle's hair with practiced ease.
"Alright, Belle, calm down. There is no need to panic," he murmured, his tone soft and entirely too accommodating. "We have extra tents. No one is separating us. Do not worry."
The gentle rhythm of his hand working through her hair worked like magic. The tension melted from Belle's shoulders, and she lifted her head, her face blooming into a radiant, entirely unbothered smile.
"Mmm-hmm! I knew Mizu would never leave me!"
Mimi let out a long, heavy breath, her shoulders slumping in sheer exasperation.
You silly girl, Mimi thought, watching the two of them interact with zero romantic tension. Understanding your own feelings is only half the battle. The other person has to see you that way too!
It was painfully obvious to anyone watching. Mizuki did not look at Belle with the eyes of a young man looking at a beautiful girl. He looked at her the way a fiercely protective older brother looked at a precious younger sister. If they kept this dynamic up, it would cement into a permanent habit. Belle was practically paving her own road toward becoming the tragic, rejected childhood friend trope. Was she doomed to walk the path of a romantic loser?
Just as Mimi was spiraling into a pit of secondhand despair, a gentle hand rested on her shoulder. Sora stood beside her, offering a sympathetic, grounded smile.
"Alright, Mimi, let it go for tonight. Let us head back to our tent," Sora coaxed softly. "They operate on their own unique wavelength. You cannot force these things."
Mimi spun around, pointing an accusatory finger at the older girl. "Sora, you do not understand the gravity of this situation at all!"
She huffed, marching toward their designated tent. Once they were zipped inside, away from prying ears, Mimi lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Do you remember that Salamon from before?"
Sora blinked, pulling her sleeping bag out. "Salamon? You mean the one that Digivolved into BlackGatomon?" She paused, piecing the memory together. "Yes, I remember her. What about her?"
Mimi crossed her arms, her youthful face taking on a deadpan, worldly seriousness that looked entirely out of place.
"Do not forget, Belle used to be a BlackGatomon too. That means the new BlackGatomon could eventually Digivolve into a gorgeous, human-like form just like Belle." Mimi leaned in closer, her eyes narrowing. "And I observed her. That BlackGatomon is aggressive. She takes initiative. If this were a television drama, she would absolutely be the cunning villainess who steals the male lead right out from under the clueless heroine's nose!"
Sora stared at her. A long stretch of silence filled the tent. She watched Mimi treat this hypothetical soap opera plot with life-or-death intensity, weighed her options, and ultimately chose the path of least resistance. She let out a defeated sigh.
"Okay, Mimi. I think you have watched a bit too much television. Let us just get some sleep. We have a brutal training regimen waiting for us tomorrow." Sora gestured toward the corner of the tent. "Look, Kari is already out cold."
Mimi puffed out her cheeks, thoroughly offended. "Hey! Are you even taking my warnings seriously?!"
The rhythmic chirping of nocturnal digital insects drifted through the campsite. Safely zipped inside a separate tent, completely oblivious to Mimi's grand romantic conspiracies, Mizuki was currently fighting a losing battle of his own.
"Hehehe, Mizu. My Mizu."
The moment the tent flap had closed, cutting them off from the rest of the group, any trace of the slight, awkward reserve Belle had displayed earlier vanished entirely. She shed her temporary maturity like a heavy coat, reverting instantly to her natural, fiercely affectionate state. In fact, she was clinging to him with even more intensity than usual. Mizuki could not quite tell if Mimi and Piximon's teasing had triggered this, or if she was simply overcompensating for the sheer tragedy of having to soak in separate hot springs earlier that evening.
"Belle, if you keep squirming like this, neither of us is going to get any sleep," Mizuki murmured.
Despite his mild scolding, his tone carried zero actual authority. He looked down at the girl currently using his chest as a personal scratching post, a soft, indulgent smile curving his lips.
Hearing his voice, Belle paused her relentless nuzzling just long enough for Mizuki to properly lie down on his sleeping mat. The second his back hit the fabric, she pounced right back onto him, wrapping her arms around his torso.
"Mizu, hug me!" she demanded, her voice muffled against his shirt.
"Alright, alright, I have got you," he chuckled.
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her slender, warm frame comfortably against his own. He closed his eyes, settling into the familiar, comforting weight of his partner. Because his eyes were closed, he completely missed the sudden, mischievous spark that lit up Belle's crimson eyes.
Waiting for the exact moment his breathing began to steady, Belle struck. She pushed herself up with lightning speed and leaned in.
Before Mizuki could even register the shift in movement, a soft, warm pressure pressed firmly against his cheek. His eyes snapped open. He stared up at the ceiling of the tent for a second, processing the ambush, before shifting his gaze down to the incredibly smug girl resting her chin on his collarbone.
He let out a quiet, helpless laugh. "Belle, you have officially gone bad. You are resorting to sneak attacks now?"
"Hmph!" Belle lifted her chin, looking entirely too proud of herself. "That is what you get for refusing to soak in the hot spring with me!" She narrowed her eyes playfully. "Besides, one time is not nearly enough! I want more!"
Without waiting for a single word of protest, she puckered her lips and launched herself at his face again.
The confines of the small tent offered zero room for evasion. Pinned beneath her and tangled in the sleeping bags, Mizuki put up a purely symbolic, laughing resistance for all of three seconds before completely surrendering to her affectionate assault.
The quiet tent quickly filled with muffled laughter, playful scuffling, and the rustle of fabric. The atmosphere was incredibly intimate and undeniably lively. Yet, tragically, it remained entirely devoid of actual romance. Despite the physical closeness, neither of these two dense individuals possessed the self-awareness to view the situation through a romantic lens.
Just as Mimi had feared, one had to wonder how many years it would take for either of them to finally cross that invisible line.
Outside, the glow of the campfire cast flickering shadows across the clearing.
"Taichi, you took the first watch yesterday. I will take the first shift tonight," Izzy stated, his voice unusually firm. He looked around the circle at the other boys. "The rest of you need to get some proper rest."
The sheer determination in the usually passive computer expert's tone caught the group off guard. Taichi, Joe, Matt, and young Takeru exchanged surprised glances across the firelight. Seeing that Izzy was entirely unwilling to back down, they collectively nodded, yielding to his request.
"Alright, but you have to promise to wake us up for the second half of the night, Izzy," Joe instructed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He opened his mouth, clearly preparing to launch into a lengthy, anxious lecture about sleep schedules and perimeter safety, when a wet claw poked him sharply in the calf.
"Okay, okay, Joe, do not start nagging again," Gomamon chimed in, looking up at his human partner with an exasperated grin. "Hurry up and go to sleep. If you stay up worrying, you will not be able to open your eyes when it is actually your turn to stand guard."
Joe sputtered, his face flushing red. "What! Gomamon, can you stop undermining my authority for five minutes? Why cannot you be more supportive, like Taichi's Agumon?"
Across the fire, Agumon blinked, tilting his reptilian head in genuine confusion.
Gomamon merely shrugged his white, furry shoulders. "But Joe, you are nowhere near as reliable as Taichi."
Joe buried his face in his hands, letting out a groan of pure defeat. "Gomamon... has anyone ever told you that you have absolutely zero tact?"
"Hehehe!" Gomamon giggled, entirely unrepentant.
"Do not 'hehehe' me!" Joe grumbled, finally turning and trudging toward their designated tent.
Izzy sat quietly by the fire, watching his boisterous companions file into their respective tents. The moment the last zipper was pulled shut, the polite, accommodating smile vanished from Izzy's face, replaced by a sharp, calculating intensity.
He slowly turned his head. Across the dying embers of the campfire, hovering silently in the night air, was Piximon.
Piximon paused, the small fairy Digimon tilting his head as he met the boy's piercing gaze. "...Oh?"
Tentomon hovered near Izzy's shoulder, his compound eyes darting between his human partner and the Ultimate-level Digimon. He did not understand the silent conversation passing between them, but the sudden shift in the atmosphere made his wings buzz with nervous energy. He opened his mandibles to speak, but Izzy raised a single hand, silencing the insectoid Digimon before a word could slip out.
"Tentomon," Izzy said, his voice low and measured. "Let us go stand guard."
Tentomon hesitated, sensing the heavy unspoken tension. "...Understood."
Piximon watched the red-haired boy settle onto a log just at the edge of the firelight, his posture rigid, his eyes scanning the dark treeline with analytical precision. A wide, deeply amused grin spread across Piximon's face.
"This little brat... is interesting," the fairy Digimon murmured to himself.
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