Watching
By Amai
Disclaimer
- Digimon and all it's characters are not copyright me, but copyright Toei Animation/Bandai (there probably are others, but I can't remember offhand). I wish they were, but sadly, not all wishes come true. The only thing that's copyright me is this fanfic, so no stealing, kiddies.Author's Notes
- This one is interesting. I rather like it. Semi-fluffy too. As you can tell, I like analyzing things. :) Metaphors and such are fun! I can't help myself. Nothing much more to say herejust read and please tell me how you like this! That means, review! That is all.The one called Daisuke.
I feel like I have watched you forever. Even when you or I didn't know it. Studied you like a book. And as you are dreaming, I wonder about everything I don't know about you. For I cannot read minds, I am not a god, despite what so many people think.
I can only observe, and wait. And that is what I do.
You're deep in slumber now, clutching at the covers as if it were life itself. I think you believe it will protect you. But why must you clutch at those things you think will protect? You need not do that, just wait for the warmness to overcome you as you leave the covers on your cold skin. Clutching at it only wastes strength.
Oh, but you look so comfortable underneath your covers this night. Much more comfortable than you usually seem. I wish I could offer that comfort that I know is out for you, but I can't, for more reasons than I can count. He will have to do that himself.
What are you dreaming about, in that head of yours? Is it of that girl you love, whom you clutch at like you do to your covers at night? But never do you get any heat from those covers, and you retreat, freezing in the winter frost, bitter.
I observe this too, but I cannot do anything about it, friend.
As you sleep, you forget all of the unfair beatings of the real world, however. I can see it in your face. You forget how bitterly blind the world is, including you.
As I look, I can see that your eyes are open, yet you cannot see. You are a pretender, an actor in this act called life. Yet you and everyone else cannot see that you are acting, masking your true natures in fear of seeing your mistakes. And in that action you make the worst mistake of them all.
Why do you love her? Or think that you do? Don't you realize it part of your act? Your scene? Your masquerade? If you could only see, you would realize the one who you are really destined for. Oh, I observe him too, butI cannot help but to do that.
Why can't you see? Why can't you see that when you sob into your pillow, he is sobbing as well? He tries to absorb your pain, along with his. It is too much. Your lives are all too much.
You are crying again. Into your pillow as the moonlight caresses your face. How much have you been hurt, friend? Why do you hide it? For it is hurting you even more. Oh, how I wish I could seehow I wish I could just correct all the wrongs that have been done here.
To let you abandon the theatre that haunts your lives.
But I cannot, for I am not a god. I can only wait. And watch. Watch as only a few days after your slumber you are held in the strong arms of the one who really loves you.
Watch as you both cry, but now of happiness.
Watch as you let go of your covers that you have been so tightly gripping, to blind to notice what you were doing and let her go.
Watch as you burn the script, and live your life as it should be; not planned, not written, just lived.
Watch as your realization paves the path for the others to break out of their roles.
And watch as you enter slumber, though this time in the arms of your real warmth. Celebrating the one thing that I never got to do. Life.
I only ask you one thing, friend.
Please give Ken-chan all the love that I never was able to give as his brother.