Author notes:
Now, I do know that Yamato and Takeru's dad is a really nice guy, and that their mother is sweet as candy, but I needed 'villains'… And I'm not the first one bastardizing poor Ishida-san, and I probably won't be the last… ^^;;
Another thing worth mentioning is that there will be some shounen-ai hinting.
Oh, and I don't have the faintest clue what the members in the Teenage Wolves are called. I made a few names up. Just humor me on this, please? ::puppydog-eyes::
A final thing: I'm not a native English speaker – waves tiny Swedish banner – so if my grammar suck, please bear with me…?
Disclaimer:
Sweet Little Child…
Closing the door behind him, Ishida Yamato wearily wiped a few droplets of sweat from his face. Putting the guitar away, the fourteen-year old flopped down on a chair and buried his face in his hands. He was tired, so tired. And he had failed. The Teenage Wolves had put so much faith in him, and he let them down.
She hadn't shown.
She hadn't shown, and it had caught him completely off guard, since Takeru had promised that she'd come to see him preform. He had spotted Takeru in the crowd, his arm wrapped around Hikari's waist. The girl had rested her head on her boyfriend's shoulder and her eyes had been bright and beautiful.
But she hadn't shown.
Yamato looked up, his eyes hard.
~Damn you, mom~, he thought. ~Why can't you even show me that you care a tiny bit about me? Because you don't? But why? Tell me what I've done to make you ignore the fact that you have two children, not just one! Damn you…~
The door opened and Masato stormed in, closely followed by the other band-members.
'Quite a show you put up there, Yamato-kun', Masato sneered. 'Correct me if I'm wrong, but when you preform, aren't you supposed to, like… preform? Not just stand there and stare?'
Shinobu crossed his arms across his chest and nodded.
'We made quite a spectacle of ourselves up there, Yamato-kun. All thanks to you! Do you have any idea what that will do to our reputation? We're screwed!'
Tsuru added his two cents:
'Do you have any idea how many people there are out there now, asking for their money back? We'll never be able to show our face in public again, you bastard! You have destroyed everything, don't you understand that? You selfish son of a… '
Yamato got to his feet, walking over and grabbing his guitar. He then made his way towards the exit, turning around in time to cut Tsuru off:
'Doesn't matter. You don't have to throw me out of the band, I'm quitting. I've had it with this crap anyway.'
'But you can't just walk out on…' Masato suddenly realized that he was talking to a closed door and decided to keep his mouth shut.
* * * *
Takeru stared at the cell phone in his hand. He couldn't believe this. He just couldn't believe this. Yamato had hung up on him, without even a word. This had never happened before. Takeru frowned, putting the phone away.
He was in his room, a day after the concert. Daisuke sat on his bed, looking in a manga. Hearing the sound of the phone connecting with the table, the plum haired boy looked up, his face for once serious.
'And…?'
'He hung up', Takeru replied flatly. 'Without any explanation what so ever. As soon as he heard it was me on the phone, he hung up.'
Daisuke put the manga away and rubbed a bit of sleep from his eyes. Takeru was certain the other boy would say something, but he really didn't want to hear, so he shrugged and walked outside. He could hear his mother fuss about in the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, he walked out to her.
'Mom?'
'Yes, honey', Natsuko said, turning her head. She made the dishes, since their dishwasher had broke a few days back. When she saw Takeru's troubled face, she withdrew her hands from the basin, wiping them on an already damp towel.
'What's wrong, Takeru?'
'You tell me, mom.'
This made Natsuko jump. Takeru sounded so… cold? No, he couldn't, not her little angel boy… Was he mad at her? She walked over to the kitchen table and sat down, motioning for him to do the same. He did, and never once did his eyes leave her face.
'I don't know what to tell you, Takeru', she begun carefully. 'I don't know what troubles you, so how can I…'
'Why didn't you come to the concert yesterday? You promised Yamato you'd come, and you didn't. Don't you understand that hurt him?'
Natsuko felt herself grow pale. Takeru glared at her, his eyes cold as ice. This wasn't her sweet little boy… Then his words began to sink into her head, and she - if possible - paled even more. Right, the concert. She had forgotten. Or rather, she had made herself forget all about it, it was more convenient that way. If she would have gone, then she would have been more or less obliged to say a few words to Yamato. And that would set her on a guilt trip like no other. She hadn't talked to her eldest son in almost two years, just barely saying a few polite words on Christmas and on his birthday. Other than that…
Natsuko realized that Takeru still waited for an answer.
'Oh… I… I forgot…'
'You… Forgot?!'
Takeru stood up abruptly, his chair swaying and almost falling down on the floor. His eyes were not cold any more, now they burned with a hidden, blue flame that seemed to scorch her very soul.
'How the hell could you just forget about it? You knew how important this was for niisan, you knew that!'
'Takeru, dear… Watch your language…' she tried lamely, failing in her attempt to calm her eleven year old son down.
'Screw my language, mom! I don't quite understand what the hell you're trying to pull off here, but I know that it's mean and evil, and that you hurt Yamato on purpose. And I hate evil doers, mom. I hate them!'
Natsuko stared at the stranger in front of her. She couldn't help but wonder what could have happened to Takeru for him to have such a… darkness inside of him. It frightened her. This rage that lashed out at her. It was that kind of rage that had made her divorce the boys' father seven years ago. Now that rage showed it's ugly face again, inside Takeru, her sweet little angel…
She felt her eyes fill up with hot tears, and she brought a hand to her mouth to keep herself from sobbing out loud. Confusion and desperation made her loose all kind of rational thought and without her even knowing what she was doing, she reached out and slapped Takeru on his left cheek.
'No', she whispered. 'I… I didn't mean to do that, honey… I… Oh god…'
'That's okay, mom.' His voice was cold. So cold. 'Only a slap. I had a doll shooting with a real gun at me when I was eight. I think I'll live through this.' A smirk. And now her tears overflowed her eyes as she watched Takeru turn around and walk away from her. He continued:
'It's not I who need your apologies, mom. Yamato does. You've harmed him a lot more by ignoring something this important to him, than this slap has harmed me. You remember that, okay? Let's go…'
Go where? Natsuko blinked, when she suddenly realized that Takeru wasn't alone, that loud boy, what was his name… Motomiya? He stood with huge eyes in the doorway, he had undoubtedly heard the entire conversation. When the two boys left the apartment, Natsuko sat down at the table once more, and cried.
* * * *
Maybe he shouldn't have done it. Yamato sighed, staring into his third cup of coffee in just forty minutes. Outside the coffee-shop, people were passing by, everyone in a hurry, everyone with a goal. They knew what they would make of their lives. They knew why they did the things they did. Well, a lot of them knew anyway.
So why was he a failure?
A failure in everything he did.
He still hadn't told his dad that he had quit the band. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be so bad. His dad was always on his back concerning the band anyway. He spent too much time away from home, he didn't have the dinner ready in time, he spent too much money on guitar strings and other 'useless' things.
So maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
The blonde boy shot a glance at his watch. Almost 03.00 PM, school would soon be out. Then he should be getting home, so that his father wouldn't find out that he was skipping class. Why was he doing it, anyway? He would only get himself chin deep into trouble.
I need to talk to someone… Someone who might want to listen to me… Taichi is too brash, I can't handle that right now. Koushiro is a kid. It doesn't matter that he's bright as Einstein or something, he's still a kid and he wouldn't understand this. No way.
Yamato picked up his cell phone and called the only person he knew he could talk to, who would listen and hopefully come with some advice.
As someone answered at the end of the line, Yamato said:
'Hello? May I speak with Jyou-san, please?'
* * * *
Jyou quickly began to clean up in his room. It was funny, he had never been a messy kind of person, but something had happened in just a few months, and now he always seemed to litter notes and other important stuff everywhere. He found an old paper he had done a few weeks ago and gotten a top score on, tucked underneath a sweater and the remains of a potato-chips bag.
'Honestly', he muttered to himself. Then he sneezed.
He had been absent from school two days now, because of a nasty cold that didn't want to leave him alone. Jyou had hated it, he wanted to attend school properly, and he had been on his way to school today, when the cold got the better of him and he nearly fainted because of a sudden fever. He felt better now, and maybe it was a good thing that he had stayed home, if he hadn't been home, Yamato wouldn't have had the opportunity to talk to him.
Jyou only hoped that he could help. Koushiro had mailed him during the night, he had read the mail a couple of hours ago. Koushiro wrote that the blonde boy had quit his band without any explanation. And that he had seemed troubled at the concert.
Jyou was worried, of course, and he immediately agreed on having Yamato over for a visit. The younger boy had sounded so happy, that Jyou actually felt slightly good about himself, in spite of the cold.
The doorbell rang and Jyou quickly wiped his hands on a towel in the kitchen, before going out to open the door. Yamato stood there, dark rings underneath his eyes and he looked alarmingly skinny. Is he starving himself? I think he looks thinner every time I see him… That's bad…!
'Yamato-kun! Please, come inside! Pardon the mess, and, uh… Mom's away right now, and so is dad. We have the house to ourselves. Want some tea or something?'
Yamato removed his coat, mumbled that tea would be fine, then looked around, a smile on his face.
'Mighty cozy here, Jyou-san…'
'Thank you.'
Yamato flopped down on a chair in the kitchen, but Jyou shook his head.
'No. You don't talk well like that. Why don't we sit in the sofa instead? We could listen to some good CD if you want to. But maybe you don't want to hear music right now…?'
The blue haired youth shut his mouth, looking worriedly at his friend. Yamato only shook his head, smirking faintly:
'It's all right, Jyou-san. I don't break. You can talk to me about music, I really, really don't mind. And sure, we can hear something. But I bet your taste in music stinks…'
'Says you', Jyou smirked back, then went about to make the tea. Not looking at Yamato, he continued: 'Maybe you could pick a CD then, so that we only have to rely on your stinky taste, hm?'
'Shut it', Yamato grinned, but he did leave for the living room.
Jyou watched his back a few seconds, his eyes going down to the tight black jeans Yamato wore. They fitted snugly around his small cheeks, and Jyou couldn't help but smile slowly to himself. Yamato sure was beautiful. And now the two of them were alone in the house. Jyou had to tell himself that he wouldn't make a move on Yamato. It was hard, the young musician - or whatever - was very hot, and it had been a while since Jyou last got laid. But there's hardly any chance he's into guys… All though he can act almost gay sometimes… Jyou's smile widened. Maybe he just had to find out. After Yamato had said what he wanted to say, of course.
Yamato had found himself a blanket at the time Jyou came into the living room, carrying a tray with the tea as well as some biscuits. He had crawled up on the sofa, pulling the blanked over him, and he looked absolutely adorable. Jyou didn't know if he wanted to go over to him and pat his head or kiss him on that cute, pouty mouth. He decided to do neither, and he seated himself on the sofa as well, handing Yamato a cup of tea.
'Okay', he said after taking a careful sip of his tea.
Yamato, who nibbled on a biscuit, sighed, his eyes dark.
'I'm going to tell you something. Something that will upset you a lot. Or at least it should…' Here he shrugged, taking another bite and sipping some of the tea. 'I'm going to tell you the wonderful story about the life of Ishida Yamato. I have to tell you this, because I can't keep quiet anymore. I just can't… I'm so scared it will be too much for me, you know? And then I'll slit my wrists or something. And I don't want too… I mean, it would hurt Takeru too much! And then he'd be all alone with… Anyway, think you wanna listen?'
Jyou had paled during Yamato's little introduction of sorts. This was bad… Yamato was more or less telling him that he was on the verge of committing suicide. But why? Yamato, handsome, witty, charismatic Yamato who had almost everything he could ever wish for… Why would such a boy want to kill himself?
'Of course I want to listen. I'm your friend, Yamato-kun. And I would feel honored if you would like to share your troubles with me.'
'Well then… You asked for it.' Yamato sighed again, wrapping the blanked closer around himself. He looked right in front of himself, but it almost didn't seem as if he saw anything at all. Maybe he didn't.
'I don't know when it begun, really. The first skeleton in my closet would be mom, I guess. She can'' stand me. I don't know why, but she's always, or at least as long as I can remember, been neglecting me. I mean, my first memories of her is that she's holding baby Takeru close and yells at me for not taking care of him or something. Maybe it's because she was so young when she got me, she wasn't used to the idea to have a kid, and I kinda destroyed her life or something like that, but it still doesn't make it all right for her to destroy my life, right? I don't know…'
'Anyway, she's always been favorizing Takeru, but I'm not bitter at him because of that. How could I be? He's the nicest person I know, period. At the time, when mom wouldn't speak to me or acknowledge my presence, I usually ran to dad. He would always tell me it would be all right, in a brutish kind of way. My dad's always like that. Short and aloof or something. Hard to talk too, you know?'
Yeah, you're a lot like that yourself
, Jyou thought, but kept it to himself, he merely nodded.'Anyway', Yamato continued, 'as they talked about coustidy at the time of the divorce, all their fights were about who was going to get to keep Takeru. Mom more or less ended up telling dad to stay the hell out of Takeru's life until he was old enough to handle being close to dad. Dad was closer to me to begin with, so he agreed, reculantly. And now, he and Takeru had drifted so far apart, they rarely see eachother, even if Takeru is old enough now. Takeru feels bad about it, you know, he thinks dad doesn't care. And maybe he doesn't.'
'Anyway, dad took care of me, and mom and Takeru moved away. Dad was really great to begin with, you know. He even took time of from work to have time to hang out with me. But I guess it was good for him too, he needed his mind of the divorce. He kind of went into a slump, I think. And then…'
Yamato grew silent, sipping a bit on his tea. Jyou felt a knot in his stomach. Did he really want to hear what was coming now? Did he? No, he didn't. It was probably something really bad, and he almost wanted to speak up, to tell Yamato to keep his mouth shut. He didn't, though. He just braced himself as much as he could.
'It was a year later when he begun. I was eight at the time… I think dad started to miss mom quite a bit, and he was always saying how much I looked like her and what a beautiful child I was. I thought that was really, really funny, I mean… Dad is not the type of man who would say something like that to anyone, let alone me. I usually kept the apartment nice and tidy, and I slowly learned how to cook, I got fed up on take-out food pretty soon. Because of this, dad could call me 'his little housewife' and stuff. It freaked me out, really. '
This story was beginning to freak Jyou out as well, and he could almost imagine what Yamato was trying to tell him, but he didn't want to jump to conclusions. He could be wrong. He hoped he was wrong. He really hoped he was wrong.
'I guess you've figured out what I'm going to say… But it's more to it. Dad began to drink when I was eight as well. Not much to begin with, but a few beers every night turned into a few glasses of whiskey and stuff, every night. And in the end, he could drink bottles. Disgusting, really. And he grew violent, so when he was drunk, he used to smack me around a lot. He struck me with an empty bottle once, in the back. I still have scars. They wondered at the hospital, of course, but dad's pretty famous, and they bought his story after only a little while. '
'Dad began to molest me. It wasn't much, first. Just some touching where he really shouldn't touch, and he began to kiss me and hug me a lot, and I though it was just so strange, because dad isn't the affectionate type. He… He raped me the first time a few months before I would turn nine. I had messed up big time in school, started a fight with some airhead and then I beat him bloody before the teachers could stop it. They called dad, and I was afraid he'd kick the shit out of me, but when I got home, he merely sat in the kitchen and didn't say anything except that I should go to my room. And when he did come to talk to me… Well…'
Yamato grew quiet and looked down on his hands, his eyes dark with the pain the memories brought. Jyou didn't know what to say, he swallowed, moving a little bit closer to the younger boy. What did one say, really? What did one do? Yamato confided in him, wasn't it then his duty to do something to help his friend? Jyou bit his lip, his cup of tea forgotten on the table.
'How…' Jyou struggled with his words. 'How long did he… abuse you?'
Yamato blinked in surprised, something similar to relief flashing across his face.
'You believe me? Thank you so much, Jyou-san! Thank you!'
It was Jyou's turn to look startled.
'Why wouldn't I believe you? I hardly think someone like you would make such a story up, right?'
'No, I wouldn't…'
Yamato suddenly stood up and walked over to a window, looking out. Jyou barely heard him as he continued:
'He… he hasn't stopped. I thought he did, once. I mean, after our first encounter with the Digital World and stuff. He was really proud of both me and Takeru, and he… well, he still drank, I mean, he's too far gone in his addiction to quit, but he somehow managed not to strike me. And he found this woman he started dating. She was an editor on the TV-station. So he didn't use me as some fuck toy for almost a year.'
Jyou cringed at Yamato's last words, but the blonde boy merely shrugged and kept speaking:
'Then she broke up with him, fed up with his drinking, I suppose. And this brought him to a huge depression. He drank for two weeks straight, I was afraid he was going to poison himself. Guess he did, in a way. In the days he'd be stand by in the bathroom, and in the nights he'd be sitting at the table, drinking. One night he fell asleep at the table, and I tried to carry him to his bed. When we got to the bed, I slipped. I mean, the man is heavy as hell! Anyway, I fell down on the bed, with him on top of me, and after a while he woke up. He had sobered up some, and he was… well… horny. And that was that.'
Yamato fell silent, and Jyou sat and stared at nothing. What should he say? What should he do?
Tell Yamato to go to the police? Easier said than done.
'Have… Have you told anyone but me? Taichi-kun…?'
"No." Yamato sighed, his back seemed awfully rigid. "I mean… Taichi would freak out. First of all, he would try to kill dad, and that would be so stupid I won't even mention it. Second, he'd blow this stuff out of propotion and take it to court or something."
"But shouldn't you? Take it to court, I mean." Jyou rose as well and walked over to Yamato, putting a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "This can't continue, don't you understand that? Your father needs to be locked away."
Yamato only turned and looked at him with dead eyes.
To Be Continued…