It rained outside. Taichi lay flat on his back on his couch. An expensive
piece of furniture, one of the luxuries he had taken with the money he
owned. The other one was a large wide screen television. That now sat
abandoned. It had not been switched on since Taichi ran inside from the
rain. His shirt was still damp, he noted. Nothing ever seemed real
anymore. Since he'd grown up. In a sense, leaving Never Never Land was
the sensation he was experiencing. His child hood was grown out of. And
life seemed pretty pointless after you'd spent an existence as a little boy
fighting to save the World. Life seemed pretty pointless when the girl
you'd loved was with your best friend. Life seemed pretty damn pointless
to him when everything he loved and remembered was gone.
His friends had left him.
They'd left him behind, moving onwards, forging into careers and lives of their own. He often saw Daisuke and his noodle cart. Often saw Ken Ichijoji gracing the television. Often saw Yamato gracing the television. That hurt the most. Yamato, perfect Yamato, now looking frightfully childish, reverting back to the hair he had sported as a child. The hair that had drawn Taichi in at the very first moment.
Taichi wanted to walk and rid his mind of catlike grace and iced blue eyes and stealing of love.
He ignored his coat. He ignored his umbrella. He ignored the clap of thunder which seemed to ward him away from the doorway. He ran out into the rain, ran dangerously down the metal outdoor steps, and stopped in the street. He just stood. The heavy rain pounded upon his skull, his hair managed to defy gravity still somehow, water dripping of and rolling down his cheeks. Though the water seemed a bit warm to be rain. The thought was pushed aside quickly. Ignored. Just like he was now, no one ever called. He'd called them at first. But no one wanted to talk to Taichi, the leader of the Digi-destined, the biggest link to their past. Taichi walked no where. Just pacing the streets. He wouldn't get lost, he knew that. Then he saw him.
The rain drenched him too. But his hair still stayed the same. His eyes still remained as they where years and years ago. Taichi nearly reached out a hand, nearly cried out, his heart thudded rapidly inside his rib cage. Like a caged bird, fighting and fighting. He felt fear. As if Yamato sensed it all perfectly, his gaze roved to Taichi. The same expression of confusion, of fear, it graced Yamato's pale, perfect features instantly. But those feelings aren't quite so perfect, Taichi thought. There's guilt.
Taichi walked. He walked towards the once boy of his childhood, and now man of his past. His speed increased. Yamato turned to face him, and then Taichi was running and he didn't know why. He was running backwards it felt, yet forwards all at once. Running towards what was gone. Yamato's arms opened, this, Taichi had not expected. The warmth of their sodden bodies collided, and Taichi heard himself sobbing. His fingers clutching onto Yamato as they stood in the rain.
Yamato held onto Taichi, he stared ahead. His own eyes overflowed, the tears mingling with the rain as he remained silent, just there.
They both remained silent, then Taichi looked upwards to the man of his past, and Yamato looked back. Yamato felt something unspeakable. Feelings flooding back which he thought had well and truely faded into nothing since adolescence. Feelings which he'd always denied, though now he felt it would be an insult to deny them any more. With a certainty only one such as Yamato could possess, he closed in upon Taichi.
And kissed his lips.
The rain water mingled as their lips remained closed, just pressed together, Taichi's eyes closed, tears continuing to track down his cheeks as he held onto his past and embraced it equally. They parted. Yamato gazed at Taichi.
'We can't tell anyone about this.'
'No. No one. Not a soul.'
'No one will ever know other than us.' Yamato's voice sounded depressed now. Wanting.
'No.No one.' Their arms unlocked, their bodies parted, and the past was gone again. Taichi ran away once more. And Yamato resumed staring at nothing. Not noticing Sora in the window of his house, which lay just behind him. Not noticing that they weren't the only ones who knew, not realising that it wouldn't be just them.
Not realising anything.
His friends had left him.
They'd left him behind, moving onwards, forging into careers and lives of their own. He often saw Daisuke and his noodle cart. Often saw Ken Ichijoji gracing the television. Often saw Yamato gracing the television. That hurt the most. Yamato, perfect Yamato, now looking frightfully childish, reverting back to the hair he had sported as a child. The hair that had drawn Taichi in at the very first moment.
Taichi wanted to walk and rid his mind of catlike grace and iced blue eyes and stealing of love.
He ignored his coat. He ignored his umbrella. He ignored the clap of thunder which seemed to ward him away from the doorway. He ran out into the rain, ran dangerously down the metal outdoor steps, and stopped in the street. He just stood. The heavy rain pounded upon his skull, his hair managed to defy gravity still somehow, water dripping of and rolling down his cheeks. Though the water seemed a bit warm to be rain. The thought was pushed aside quickly. Ignored. Just like he was now, no one ever called. He'd called them at first. But no one wanted to talk to Taichi, the leader of the Digi-destined, the biggest link to their past. Taichi walked no where. Just pacing the streets. He wouldn't get lost, he knew that. Then he saw him.
The rain drenched him too. But his hair still stayed the same. His eyes still remained as they where years and years ago. Taichi nearly reached out a hand, nearly cried out, his heart thudded rapidly inside his rib cage. Like a caged bird, fighting and fighting. He felt fear. As if Yamato sensed it all perfectly, his gaze roved to Taichi. The same expression of confusion, of fear, it graced Yamato's pale, perfect features instantly. But those feelings aren't quite so perfect, Taichi thought. There's guilt.
Taichi walked. He walked towards the once boy of his childhood, and now man of his past. His speed increased. Yamato turned to face him, and then Taichi was running and he didn't know why. He was running backwards it felt, yet forwards all at once. Running towards what was gone. Yamato's arms opened, this, Taichi had not expected. The warmth of their sodden bodies collided, and Taichi heard himself sobbing. His fingers clutching onto Yamato as they stood in the rain.
Yamato held onto Taichi, he stared ahead. His own eyes overflowed, the tears mingling with the rain as he remained silent, just there.
They both remained silent, then Taichi looked upwards to the man of his past, and Yamato looked back. Yamato felt something unspeakable. Feelings flooding back which he thought had well and truely faded into nothing since adolescence. Feelings which he'd always denied, though now he felt it would be an insult to deny them any more. With a certainty only one such as Yamato could possess, he closed in upon Taichi.
And kissed his lips.
The rain water mingled as their lips remained closed, just pressed together, Taichi's eyes closed, tears continuing to track down his cheeks as he held onto his past and embraced it equally. They parted. Yamato gazed at Taichi.
'We can't tell anyone about this.'
'No. No one. Not a soul.'
'No one will ever know other than us.' Yamato's voice sounded depressed now. Wanting.
'No.No one.' Their arms unlocked, their bodies parted, and the past was gone again. Taichi ran away once more. And Yamato resumed staring at nothing. Not noticing Sora in the window of his house, which lay just behind him. Not noticing that they weren't the only ones who knew, not realising that it wouldn't be just them.
Not realising anything.