Disclaimer: This one is the translation of a story of mine originally written in German (so please bear with the somewhat strange syntax, it might in some parts be translated a bit too directly, gomen nasai for this- I hope you enjoy it anyway). As mentioned in the summary, this one is a Dark Rukato with dual character death. The Rating isn't because of the language, but because of- well, death^^ I'm deeply sorry if I put the rating wrong ;)
I hope I managed to transport the original atmosphere of the story into the English language as well (which is, by the way, the coolest language on earth XD) Anyway, enjoy, and hopefully you'll even R/R ^^
Tokyo at night. Gigantic skyscrapers reaching up high into the sky, flashing luminous advertisings which illuminate the surrounding darkness in a praising way, myriads of cars, bikes and pedestrians passing by. A city of vibrant life, where an eternal variety of possibilities exists.
But what if one doesn't seem to have any possibilities left- except one…?
Rain. A true cloudburst it was, pouring down on the streets and lanes of the city, seeking to downrightly flood them. With unseeing eyes, the now sixteen year old, slender girl observed the cataracts insistently falling out of the clouds, which dabbling and gurgling gushed into the hopelessly overemployed gullies.
Dark as this night was her life, constantly overshadowed by all-devouring blackness, bereft of all joy, all hope, all light.
This had not always been that way.
Then, only a few years and yet eons ago, a span of life ago which was just a wink away in her memories and yet likewise an eternity away in her dreams, then she had still been seeing the light, then, when she hadn't yet been alone…
Another cigarette found its way between her lips. The- now empty- packet did she just carelessly drop to the ground. However, it seemed as if the inscription flaunting on it, which contained the note that smoking was harmful, still was sneering at her from down there. The girl just had to smile about that- not amused, however, but tormented and bitter.
"That supervalued minister doesn't have a clue what's REALLY insalubrious…"
Her smile vanished, and her face petrified again, as it was faintly illuminated by the brief flare of a blazing lighter. After she had set the cigarette on fire and taken a first drag, she simply threw the lighter to the tarmac as well. She wouldn't need it anymore, anyway.
Lost in miserable thoughts, her eyes followed the smoke which was slowly volatilizing into the humid air. The torrential rain didn't reach the girl yet, as, so far, she was standing below some sort of canopy, which was stretched in front of one of the innumerable stores of the city of Tokyo; but still, she imagined to actually feel the heavy raindrops on her skin, as if they would, just because she was staring at them, be able to manifest themselves directly above her.
Takato… Where are you?
A single lost thought of an equally lost girl, amidst one of the world's largest cities. Hundreds of hectic people were rushing by her per minute, without noting her, without knowing her, without caring about her. That was the course of fate, and none of these people would suddenly change their life just because Ruki's was just being shattered into pieces. This crowd would continue to daily roll itself through West-Shinjuku, even if Ruki wasn't there anymore- she had become dispensable… She swallowed the lump in her throat.
Dispensable…
Yes, that was what she was… After D-Reapers defeat, the Tamers hadn't been needed any longer, and now were applying themselves to different things. Kazu and Kenta still confined themselves to playing the TCG-Game excessively. Suzie, slowly moving towards puberty, had enough problems of her own. Lee, however, was studying hard in order to pass the qualifying examination at an elite school for to-be computer masterminds (at least, that was the description Janyuu had found for it). Juri however had somehow been able to deal with the late effects of her having been captured by the Reaper, but went totally crazy after the incident with Takato; and now, she was living in a kind of special asylum somewhere near Sapporo.
And Ryo had- at the latest after the last Card Game Tournament- taken his place as unchallenged Digimon king (which, at least in his own opinion, he did deserve anyway). And really, none of the other players was even approximately a match for him- none except Ruki, but she hadn't been taking part in tournaments anymore- after Takatos death…
Since then, she was dead as well. The world outside there didn't know yet, but after the bereavement of her best friend, Ruki's inner self was shattered into pieces. No longer was the massive-seeming, icy armor, which she had carefully been building up around her heart through the years, capable of protecting her. Emotions of never-known intensity had been assailing her after that fateful phone call on that cold December morning; emotions like pain, dolefulness, desperation, rage, self-hatred, resignation. She hadn't even been able to cry after getting to know it all; she had just rushed out, followed by Rumiko's calls, who-for the first time in years- did sound really worried. She had run and run, until she arrived at Odaiba. Takato had had the intention to visit a relative here, and had been stabbed to death in a dark alleyway by some homeboy.
So far about the down-to-earth facts. But there had been something else, something Ruki wouldn't forget, never. After her arrival there, she had been stopped by a policeman at first, who obviously had the purpose to close off the area. Ruki, however, had "convinced" him to let her pass with a painful kick into his abdomen, and a few seconds later, she was standing in front of the picture of misery which had once been Takato. He was lying on his side. Dried blood was adhering all his clothes, his skin, even his as-usual messed up hair. He didn't possess his wallet anymore, nor his shoes, nor even his goggles. His right hand was cramped, seeming to show onto something. Ruki had followed the half-limp, half-showing fingers with her eyes, and discovered something smeared on the ground with red paint. It obviously was written by Takato, only that it wasn't red paint, as it had had the appearance at first sight, but blood. Takato's blood. And it also wasn't just something smeared onto street, but a name.
Rukis name.
Ruki took another drag from her almost burnt down cigarette. Over and over again she had replayed the scenario inside her head, over and over again had she tried to imagine what might have happened. Finally she had decided to believe the most plausible version: Takato had been on his way home, totally unsuspecting, whistling- as sure as fate he had been whistling, Ruki thought, and a smile managed to appear on her face-, as, all of a sudden, from behind some dust bins, that tramp, that asshole, that blain of mankind, must have appeared and driven a knife against Takato's waist. Then he had grabbed Takato's valuables- as far as you can call those goggles valuable- and vanished. Those goggles…
Strangely, Ruki had only started to cry after she had recognized that the goggles had been stolen as well. They had been Takato's trademark, ever since she knew him, and their absence somehow had been some sort of final confirmation of his death.
She took another drag, then threw the now completely burnt down cigarette out into the pouring rain. Then she stepped out from under the canopy and made her way down the street, not caring about the torrential rain soaking her. She passed stores, discos, skyscrapers and restaurants, as well as parks, playgrounds and, of course, thousands and thousands of people. Nothing of all this aroused her interest. She just wanted to go on, to Odaiba, to that street she connected so terrible memories with. The wet, shiny street extended under her feet, and every single inch of it made her death wish grow even more.
Yes, she wanted to die. She had lost any will to live; if maybe not at all times, then surely after Takato's death- almost as if HE, he alone, had been the only source of her joy and her will to live.
Ruki was almost surprised of her own speed, as she suddenly noticed she already stood in that fateful alleyway again. Immediately she recognized the site of crime, and without her having the possibility to do anything against it, the tears began to flood her eyes again. She didn't even try to repress them- what good would it do anyway? What did it matter at all? Her façade of self-restraint and coolness was long devastated, as was her whole being… her whole life… Over there he had lain. Over there, in the corner, staring with empty eyes, lifeless. And here- Ruki made a small step forward- here, the scripture had been: the aforementioned "Makino Ruki". And under it something else, written with the last few drops of Takato's life essence, something which had struck Ruki deep inside, something which had changed Rukis point of viewing things, her life and her mind forever. The entire tragedy, melancholy, joy, love, and cruel reality summarized into one single word, forever connected with her name: Aishiteru…
Ruki dropped on her knees. That staggering perception had almost taken her breath away. Takato… had loved her?
But that's how it had been, and Ruki was sure that he still was loving here right now- wherever he might be. He loved her; as she was, with all her mistakes and weaknesses.
The knife flashed up briefly, as Ruki pulled it out of her pocket. She wanted to be with him…
Hardly did she feel the pain of the cuts, so that the girl looked closely to ensure they were deep enough. Obviously they were, as arterial blood poured out of the T-shaped wound on her left wrist, almost as intensive as the rain.
Clanking, the knife fell to the ground, and Ruki lolled against a wall.
Why had she only realized what Takato meant to her as he had already told her the same in his final message? Why had all the demons and angels, all the forces of destiny, gods and humans, conspired against her? Why did fate itself torment her until far beyond the frontiers of the imaginable and bearable?
Slowly, more and more gore gushed out of her arteries onto the tarmac, intermixing with the rainwater to an auburn liquid which flowed into the nearby gully. As fast as the clammy humidity tried to crouch into the girl's body, some sort of pleasant, almost comforting numbness spread across her. It was too late. There was no way back. And, what was even more important, she didn't want to go back. Slowly, her world began to blur, to distort, and be sucked into some surreal, whirling maelstrom. Ruki felt how her last bit of vitality fled from her limp body, and whispered her last words into the cold, dark night, word she should have said so much earlier; word she'd hopefully be able to repeat some time, in another world.
"Aishiteru, Takato… aishiteru…"
*~*~* OWARI *~*~*
Short, but dark, and Rukato ;) Hope you enjoyed it, thanks for reading, and special thanks for those who review, too. cYa for now, and:
RUKATO ITSUMADEMO!
I hope I managed to transport the original atmosphere of the story into the English language as well (which is, by the way, the coolest language on earth XD) Anyway, enjoy, and hopefully you'll even R/R ^^
Tokyo at night. Gigantic skyscrapers reaching up high into the sky, flashing luminous advertisings which illuminate the surrounding darkness in a praising way, myriads of cars, bikes and pedestrians passing by. A city of vibrant life, where an eternal variety of possibilities exists.
But what if one doesn't seem to have any possibilities left- except one…?
Rain. A true cloudburst it was, pouring down on the streets and lanes of the city, seeking to downrightly flood them. With unseeing eyes, the now sixteen year old, slender girl observed the cataracts insistently falling out of the clouds, which dabbling and gurgling gushed into the hopelessly overemployed gullies.
Dark as this night was her life, constantly overshadowed by all-devouring blackness, bereft of all joy, all hope, all light.
This had not always been that way.
Then, only a few years and yet eons ago, a span of life ago which was just a wink away in her memories and yet likewise an eternity away in her dreams, then she had still been seeing the light, then, when she hadn't yet been alone…
Another cigarette found its way between her lips. The- now empty- packet did she just carelessly drop to the ground. However, it seemed as if the inscription flaunting on it, which contained the note that smoking was harmful, still was sneering at her from down there. The girl just had to smile about that- not amused, however, but tormented and bitter.
"That supervalued minister doesn't have a clue what's REALLY insalubrious…"
Her smile vanished, and her face petrified again, as it was faintly illuminated by the brief flare of a blazing lighter. After she had set the cigarette on fire and taken a first drag, she simply threw the lighter to the tarmac as well. She wouldn't need it anymore, anyway.
Lost in miserable thoughts, her eyes followed the smoke which was slowly volatilizing into the humid air. The torrential rain didn't reach the girl yet, as, so far, she was standing below some sort of canopy, which was stretched in front of one of the innumerable stores of the city of Tokyo; but still, she imagined to actually feel the heavy raindrops on her skin, as if they would, just because she was staring at them, be able to manifest themselves directly above her.
Takato… Where are you?
A single lost thought of an equally lost girl, amidst one of the world's largest cities. Hundreds of hectic people were rushing by her per minute, without noting her, without knowing her, without caring about her. That was the course of fate, and none of these people would suddenly change their life just because Ruki's was just being shattered into pieces. This crowd would continue to daily roll itself through West-Shinjuku, even if Ruki wasn't there anymore- she had become dispensable… She swallowed the lump in her throat.
Dispensable…
Yes, that was what she was… After D-Reapers defeat, the Tamers hadn't been needed any longer, and now were applying themselves to different things. Kazu and Kenta still confined themselves to playing the TCG-Game excessively. Suzie, slowly moving towards puberty, had enough problems of her own. Lee, however, was studying hard in order to pass the qualifying examination at an elite school for to-be computer masterminds (at least, that was the description Janyuu had found for it). Juri however had somehow been able to deal with the late effects of her having been captured by the Reaper, but went totally crazy after the incident with Takato; and now, she was living in a kind of special asylum somewhere near Sapporo.
And Ryo had- at the latest after the last Card Game Tournament- taken his place as unchallenged Digimon king (which, at least in his own opinion, he did deserve anyway). And really, none of the other players was even approximately a match for him- none except Ruki, but she hadn't been taking part in tournaments anymore- after Takatos death…
Since then, she was dead as well. The world outside there didn't know yet, but after the bereavement of her best friend, Ruki's inner self was shattered into pieces. No longer was the massive-seeming, icy armor, which she had carefully been building up around her heart through the years, capable of protecting her. Emotions of never-known intensity had been assailing her after that fateful phone call on that cold December morning; emotions like pain, dolefulness, desperation, rage, self-hatred, resignation. She hadn't even been able to cry after getting to know it all; she had just rushed out, followed by Rumiko's calls, who-for the first time in years- did sound really worried. She had run and run, until she arrived at Odaiba. Takato had had the intention to visit a relative here, and had been stabbed to death in a dark alleyway by some homeboy.
So far about the down-to-earth facts. But there had been something else, something Ruki wouldn't forget, never. After her arrival there, she had been stopped by a policeman at first, who obviously had the purpose to close off the area. Ruki, however, had "convinced" him to let her pass with a painful kick into his abdomen, and a few seconds later, she was standing in front of the picture of misery which had once been Takato. He was lying on his side. Dried blood was adhering all his clothes, his skin, even his as-usual messed up hair. He didn't possess his wallet anymore, nor his shoes, nor even his goggles. His right hand was cramped, seeming to show onto something. Ruki had followed the half-limp, half-showing fingers with her eyes, and discovered something smeared on the ground with red paint. It obviously was written by Takato, only that it wasn't red paint, as it had had the appearance at first sight, but blood. Takato's blood. And it also wasn't just something smeared onto street, but a name.
Rukis name.
Ruki took another drag from her almost burnt down cigarette. Over and over again she had replayed the scenario inside her head, over and over again had she tried to imagine what might have happened. Finally she had decided to believe the most plausible version: Takato had been on his way home, totally unsuspecting, whistling- as sure as fate he had been whistling, Ruki thought, and a smile managed to appear on her face-, as, all of a sudden, from behind some dust bins, that tramp, that asshole, that blain of mankind, must have appeared and driven a knife against Takato's waist. Then he had grabbed Takato's valuables- as far as you can call those goggles valuable- and vanished. Those goggles…
Strangely, Ruki had only started to cry after she had recognized that the goggles had been stolen as well. They had been Takato's trademark, ever since she knew him, and their absence somehow had been some sort of final confirmation of his death.
She took another drag, then threw the now completely burnt down cigarette out into the pouring rain. Then she stepped out from under the canopy and made her way down the street, not caring about the torrential rain soaking her. She passed stores, discos, skyscrapers and restaurants, as well as parks, playgrounds and, of course, thousands and thousands of people. Nothing of all this aroused her interest. She just wanted to go on, to Odaiba, to that street she connected so terrible memories with. The wet, shiny street extended under her feet, and every single inch of it made her death wish grow even more.
Yes, she wanted to die. She had lost any will to live; if maybe not at all times, then surely after Takato's death- almost as if HE, he alone, had been the only source of her joy and her will to live.
Ruki was almost surprised of her own speed, as she suddenly noticed she already stood in that fateful alleyway again. Immediately she recognized the site of crime, and without her having the possibility to do anything against it, the tears began to flood her eyes again. She didn't even try to repress them- what good would it do anyway? What did it matter at all? Her façade of self-restraint and coolness was long devastated, as was her whole being… her whole life… Over there he had lain. Over there, in the corner, staring with empty eyes, lifeless. And here- Ruki made a small step forward- here, the scripture had been: the aforementioned "Makino Ruki". And under it something else, written with the last few drops of Takato's life essence, something which had struck Ruki deep inside, something which had changed Rukis point of viewing things, her life and her mind forever. The entire tragedy, melancholy, joy, love, and cruel reality summarized into one single word, forever connected with her name: Aishiteru…
Ruki dropped on her knees. That staggering perception had almost taken her breath away. Takato… had loved her?
But that's how it had been, and Ruki was sure that he still was loving here right now- wherever he might be. He loved her; as she was, with all her mistakes and weaknesses.
The knife flashed up briefly, as Ruki pulled it out of her pocket. She wanted to be with him…
Hardly did she feel the pain of the cuts, so that the girl looked closely to ensure they were deep enough. Obviously they were, as arterial blood poured out of the T-shaped wound on her left wrist, almost as intensive as the rain.
Clanking, the knife fell to the ground, and Ruki lolled against a wall.
Why had she only realized what Takato meant to her as he had already told her the same in his final message? Why had all the demons and angels, all the forces of destiny, gods and humans, conspired against her? Why did fate itself torment her until far beyond the frontiers of the imaginable and bearable?
Slowly, more and more gore gushed out of her arteries onto the tarmac, intermixing with the rainwater to an auburn liquid which flowed into the nearby gully. As fast as the clammy humidity tried to crouch into the girl's body, some sort of pleasant, almost comforting numbness spread across her. It was too late. There was no way back. And, what was even more important, she didn't want to go back. Slowly, her world began to blur, to distort, and be sucked into some surreal, whirling maelstrom. Ruki felt how her last bit of vitality fled from her limp body, and whispered her last words into the cold, dark night, word she should have said so much earlier; word she'd hopefully be able to repeat some time, in another world.
"Aishiteru, Takato… aishiteru…"
Short, but dark, and Rukato ;) Hope you enjoyed it, thanks for reading, and special thanks for those who review, too. cYa for now, and:
RUKATO ITSUMADEMO!