Author's Note and Disclaimer: I do not own Digimon, Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure 02, or any of the characters depicted.
This fic was written as part of a challenge from my good friend J (DarkSakura IIDX): "A songfic on 'Everyone Says Hi' by David Bowie."
This was far shorter than what I normally write, but that's okay. It was meant to be a one-shot challenge fic, and thats what it was. I, also, realize that this has probably been done a million times before. I just hope that I added my own special little twist onto it and it unique in that fashion.
Edited by M.C. Zarrella.
. . .
Everyone Says Hi
. . .
Said you took a big trip.
They said you moved away,
Happened oh, so quietly,
They say.
"Oh… hi, Daisuke," said a nameless someone.
"Hey," he responded.
"Hi..."
"We just did the greeting thing." He tried on a weak grin.
"Oh, I know… it's just... wow, I don't know what to say... I just heard—"
"Then don't say anything." He ended the conversation there by turning his back and walking away. His friend stared at his fading form as it melted into the twilight horizon down the street. It shamed them to think that they may never see that full grin of his again, or hear his laughter.
Daisuke kept his hands hidden in his pockets as his knuckles turned white. He held two identical objects. He squeezed them as hard as he could—he wanted to feel them break. The wind blew coldly; old leaves swirled and fell dead. Trees stood nearby with bare limbs and he sympathized with their loneliness.
The street became endless as he wandered and thought back to just a few days ago. The sun set and the stars twinkled, taking their opportunity to shine, while the man in the moon laughed joylessly at their antics. Daisuke glared at the sky, further reminded of the past. The stars cringed and hid behind dark, oncoming storm clouds.
"Let's try this again, shall we? What is pi, Daisuke-kun?"
"Food."
A sigh and the shake of a head. That hopeless situation had passed and bloomed into another. Daisuke walked in circles, passing that half empty trashcan five—six—times now. A black cat screeched at him each time. The urban legend had reversed: bad luck fell upon those whose shadow belonged to the murderer.
Shoulda took a picture.
Something I could keep.
Buy a little frame,
Something cheap,
For you.
"Oh, Daisuke! There you are!" Someone approached him from the side, darting out of a little pet shop.
"Eh?"
"Uh, hi."
"Hey," he responded, dancing to the tune he already knew.
"Look, Daisuke, I'm just going to cut to the chase. It's not your fa—"
"Save it. I don't want to hear it."
"Daisuke, it's not—!"
"I said SAVE IT! You don't know that. You don't know what happened."
"The others, they told me..."
"Get away from me," Daisuke growled, and so his company left him. They kept trying to talk to him. They kept coming up to him and saying 'Hi' and wanting to be his friend. But he wasn't interested. Not now. Not after all of this. He walked on, down the beaten path he had begun to memorize.
"Daisuke-kun, please... try to pay attention."
"This is BORING."
He took a chance, took a risk. He turned the other way at the corner, and traveled down an unfamiliar, shadowed road. The dead trees waved at him in the wind, and he could only stare at them. They had to know. Everyone knew. The trees should know, too. They knew the pain he felt.
"Hey," he responded.
"Hi..."
"We just did the greeting thing." He tried on a weak grin.
"Oh, I know… it's just... wow, I don't know what to say... I just heard—"
"Then don't say anything." He ended the conversation there by turning his back and walking away. His friend stared at his fading form as it melted into the twilight horizon down the street. It shamed them to think that they may never see that full grin of his again, or hear his laughter.
Daisuke kept his hands hidden in his pockets as his knuckles turned white. He held two identical objects. He squeezed them as hard as he could—he wanted to feel them break. The wind blew coldly; old leaves swirled and fell dead. Trees stood nearby with bare limbs and he sympathized with their loneliness.
The street became endless as he wandered and thought back to just a few days ago. The sun set and the stars twinkled, taking their opportunity to shine, while the man in the moon laughed joylessly at their antics. Daisuke glared at the sky, further reminded of the past. The stars cringed and hid behind dark, oncoming storm clouds.
"Let's try this again, shall we? What is pi, Daisuke-kun?"
"Food."
A sigh and the shake of a head. That hopeless situation had passed and bloomed into another. Daisuke walked in circles, passing that half empty trashcan five—six—times now. A black cat screeched at him each time. The urban legend had reversed: bad luck fell upon those whose shadow belonged to the murderer.
Shoulda took a picture.
Something I could keep.
Buy a little frame,
Something cheap,
For you.
"Oh, Daisuke! There you are!" Someone approached him from the side, darting out of a little pet shop.
"Eh?"
"Uh, hi."
"Hey," he responded, dancing to the tune he already knew.
"Look, Daisuke, I'm just going to cut to the chase. It's not your fa—"
"Save it. I don't want to hear it."
"Daisuke, it's not—!"
"I said SAVE IT! You don't know that. You don't know what happened."
"The others, they told me..."
"Get away from me," Daisuke growled, and so his company left him. They kept trying to talk to him. They kept coming up to him and saying 'Hi' and wanting to be his friend. But he wasn't interested. Not now. Not after all of this. He walked on, down the beaten path he had begun to memorize.
"Daisuke-kun, please... try to pay attention."
"This is BORING."
He took a chance, took a risk. He turned the other way at the corner, and traveled down an unfamiliar, shadowed road. The dead trees waved at him in the wind, and he could only stare at them. They had to know. Everyone knew. The trees should know, too. They knew the pain he felt.
Everyone says hi.
A stick snapped beneath his foot. It sounded like a bone being cracked in half. He flinched at the sound and wished it had never reached his ears. Was that something that he had heard? No, he couldn't have. That's not how he would have wanted it.
The tangled masses of limbs blowing in the wind cast shadows that looked like hands reaching out to strangle him. Daisuke hurried through the dead park, his journey only halfway over. He shivered again at the icy wind blowing against his back and the sound of crunching twigs.
He passed out of that web of darkness and back into the light. Bugs buzzed around the burning street lamp, and he wondered if he wasn't like them: attracted to a light, unable to stop himself from flying towards his doom. A bug zapper, that's what it was. That's what he was. That would make Daisuke the mosquito, flying helplessly straight towards doom.
The tangled masses of limbs blowing in the wind cast shadows that looked like hands reaching out to strangle him. Daisuke hurried through the dead park, his journey only halfway over. He shivered again at the icy wind blowing against his back and the sound of crunching twigs.
He passed out of that web of darkness and back into the light. Bugs buzzed around the burning street lamp, and he wondered if he wasn't like them: attracted to a light, unable to stop himself from flying towards his doom. A bug zapper, that's what it was. That's what he was. That would make Daisuke the mosquito, flying helplessly straight towards doom.
Said you sailed a big ship.
Said you sailed away.
Didn't know the right thing,
To say.
He made it home and the warmth that spilled out into the cold hallway before he closed the door. His jacket slipped from his shoulders and lied forgotten in the entryway; a pair of shoes covered in mud joined them. Socked feet made the wooden floor creak. A light came on in a room just one door down from his bedroom.
Someone's head poked out. "Daisuke? Are you home?"
"Yeah," he replied.
"Your friends called... they wanted to say 'hi,' and see how you were doing."
"I know. I met some of them on the way home."
"Are you alright?"
"No. Go back to bed."
"We're all worried about you... since..."
"I don't want to talk about it. Goodnight." He slid his door open and disappeared into his bedroom. He paused and waited for the other person to close their door. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard it swing shut, when he saw the light go off, then let a wooden slab seal his world from the others'.
Daisuke turned and walked to a desk sitting in front of a window. He heard snoring coming from the bed, but ignored it. He knew what—who—made that noise. They were always there, the small partners, curled up next to each other; he wished he could be like that, curled up against the warmth of another.
"Daisuke-kun, quit staring out the window."
"Eh? Oh, sorry. Whaddya say about apple pie?"
He opened a drawer and pulled out a pen and pad of paper.
Said you sailed away.
Didn't know the right thing,
To say.
He made it home and the warmth that spilled out into the cold hallway before he closed the door. His jacket slipped from his shoulders and lied forgotten in the entryway; a pair of shoes covered in mud joined them. Socked feet made the wooden floor creak. A light came on in a room just one door down from his bedroom.
Someone's head poked out. "Daisuke? Are you home?"
"Yeah," he replied.
"Your friends called... they wanted to say 'hi,' and see how you were doing."
"I know. I met some of them on the way home."
"Are you alright?"
"No. Go back to bed."
"We're all worried about you... since..."
"I don't want to talk about it. Goodnight." He slid his door open and disappeared into his bedroom. He paused and waited for the other person to close their door. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard it swing shut, when he saw the light go off, then let a wooden slab seal his world from the others'.
Daisuke turned and walked to a desk sitting in front of a window. He heard snoring coming from the bed, but ignored it. He knew what—who—made that noise. They were always there, the small partners, curled up next to each other; he wished he could be like that, curled up against the warmth of another.
"Daisuke-kun, quit staring out the window."
"Eh? Oh, sorry. Whaddya say about apple pie?"
He opened a drawer and pulled out a pen and pad of paper.
I'd love to get a letter.
Like to know what's what.
Hope the weather's good.
And it's not too hot
For you.
He scribbled his note, his hand moving fast in the darkness. Everything he wanted to say, he wrote then; when the paper was full, he kept writing. Someone else was becoming the architect of bad news. The pen scratched its marks deep; the paper groaned in protest, and Daisuke took some gratification from torturing it.
"Daisuke-kun, pay attention!"
"Hey, don't yell at me!"
"I'm sorry, but you asked me over here to help you study."
"Yeah, well, I'm starting to regret that!"
"What... what do you mean?"
"Study this, study that, pi equals 3.14159265358979323846... it's boring! All of it! Let's go outside, let's have some fun!"
"Daisuke-kun... this is important."
"Aw, come on! Here!"
"Daisuke-kun, stop—don't hit me with that!"
"Pillow fight, come on!"
"DAISUKE-KUN, KNOCK IT OFF!"
"... Fine. Go home. I don't want you around anyway."
"Daisuke-kun..."
"GET OUT OF HERE! I DON'T EVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!"
But he did want him around. He wrote it over and over again. Both sides of the yellow paper were filled with the black words conveying his feelings. He wrote so firmly that the nib tore through the paper and started carving into the wooden desk. There wasn't much else left to do.
Everyone says hi.
He folded the papers into neat little squares, and stacked them one on top of one another. The Tower of Regret, he christened it. He poked it when it was complete and watched it fall over—like he watched his life fall over. He sighed and cast one long, empty look at the bed. They had already been through so much, but they would go on because they were strong when they were together.
He folded the papers into neat little squares, and stacked them one on top of one another. The Tower of Regret, he christened it. He poked it when it was complete and watched it fall over—like he watched his life fall over. He sighed and cast one long, empty look at the bed. They had already been through so much, but they would go on because they were strong when they were together.
Everyone says hi.
Everyone says,
Don't stay in a sad place.
Where they don't care how you are.
Everyone says hi.
He left his room, tiptoeing quietly as to not wake anyone. The bathroom door opened and he stepped inside. He shut it behind him, and went to look at his reflection in the mirror. But a boy with wild hair, styleless and dropping into his eyes, stared back. Daisuke lifted his hand, closing it into a fist with the middle finger still up and rigid.
The mirror image didn't respond and only stared at him with those sad and pleading pale purple eyes. The dark hair layered against his chin flew from side to side—he was shaking his head in protest. He knew what was going to happen, and he reached out to catch Daisuke's shoulder.
If the money is lousy,
You can always come home.
We can do the old things.
We can do all the bad things.
If the food gets you leery,
You can always phone.
We could do all the good things
We could do it, we could do it,
We could do it.
Don't stay in a bad place.
Where they don't care how you are.
Daisuke sat down on the porcelain throne. He reached into his pockets and set both oval navy and green digital devices on the sink, then positioned himself to retrieve one last thing out of a back pocket. What he extracted was a metallic tool with red stains. He held it up.
"So... is this it?"
It still held the essence it stole, the dried crimson. He felt a sort of relief, like the world was being lifted off of his shoulders. The thin razor slid against the skin of his underarm; it stung, but cut his flesh easily. His wet blood mixed with the blood of another, and he took comfort in watching the merging.
He made four more vertical slashes and then leaned back against the wall. He felt lightheaded; everything started to become a blur. The light faded and faded until it was gone. He couldn't see anything—but then a face appeared to him, tear-stained and sad. He heard a gulp, and watched that face try to smile at him.
Don't stay in a sad place.
Where they don't care how you are.
Everyone says hi.
He left his room, tiptoeing quietly as to not wake anyone. The bathroom door opened and he stepped inside. He shut it behind him, and went to look at his reflection in the mirror. But a boy with wild hair, styleless and dropping into his eyes, stared back. Daisuke lifted his hand, closing it into a fist with the middle finger still up and rigid.
The mirror image didn't respond and only stared at him with those sad and pleading pale purple eyes. The dark hair layered against his chin flew from side to side—he was shaking his head in protest. He knew what was going to happen, and he reached out to catch Daisuke's shoulder.
If the money is lousy,
You can always come home.
We can do the old things.
We can do all the bad things.
If the food gets you leery,
You can always phone.
We could do all the good things
We could do it, we could do it,
We could do it.
Don't stay in a bad place.
Where they don't care how you are.
Daisuke sat down on the porcelain throne. He reached into his pockets and set both oval navy and green digital devices on the sink, then positioned himself to retrieve one last thing out of a back pocket. What he extracted was a metallic tool with red stains. He held it up.
"So... is this it?"
It still held the essence it stole, the dried crimson. He felt a sort of relief, like the world was being lifted off of his shoulders. The thin razor slid against the skin of his underarm; it stung, but cut his flesh easily. His wet blood mixed with the blood of another, and he took comfort in watching the merging.
He made four more vertical slashes and then leaned back against the wall. He felt lightheaded; everything started to become a blur. The light faded and faded until it was gone. He couldn't see anything—but then a face appeared to him, tear-stained and sad. He heard a gulp, and watched that face try to smile at him.
Everyone says hi.
Everyone says hi.
Everyone says hi.
And the girl next door,
And the guy upstairs.
Everyone says hi,
And your mum and dad.
Everyone says hi,
And your big fat dog.
Everyone says hi.
Everyone says hi.
Hi hi hi hi.
"Daisuke-kun..." Ken said.
"Hey, Ichijouji."
"Hi."
"Heh... everyone's been saying that."
Everyone says hi.
Everyone says hi.
And the girl next door,
And the guy upstairs.
Everyone says hi,
And your mum and dad.
Everyone says hi,
And your big fat dog.
Everyone says hi.
Everyone says hi.
Hi hi hi hi.
"Daisuke-kun..." Ken said.
"Hey, Ichijouji."
"Hi."
"Heh... everyone's been saying that."