Tuesday
By Ogonori
Chapter I:
It would have been just another Tuesday night. I probably would have been happier, basking in my ignorance for all of eternity, had it been just another Tuesday night. But fate moves with the wind, as I have found out, and it just so happens that she decided her next move would be to the apartment directly over mine.
That fateful Tuesday morning I awoke to a bang and a crash overhead, startling me out of my deep slumber and onto the cold floor. I swore loudly, not even caring that my father might hear me. Lucky for me, he had sworn at the exact same time.
I yawned and rubbed my sore bottom. I could hear my father's string of curses follow him down our short hall. Opening my door, I peeked outside just in time to see my father wrench the door open and stalk into the apartment corridor. I chuckled to myself; I was glad that for once, it was not I who was on the receiving end of his bad temper.
A delicate ring came from the kitchen. I yawned again and picked up the phone.
"Hullo?"
"Yamato Ishida, you lazy asshat!"
I rubbed my head and glanced at the clock. I'm not sure if ten in the morning is quite an appropriate time to be called an asshat.
"What do you want, Daichi?" I mumbled, searching the refrigerator for something edible.
Daichi, the bass guitarist of my rock band, yelped loudly, causing me to almost drop the phone. "You forgot? Yamato, did you forget that we have a gig tonight, and don't even have the playlist set in stone yet?" he yelled. "We're fucked! Get your ass over here right now!"
Daichi hung up. I swore again. The gig. Yes, I had forgotten.
Running to my room, I grabbed the first clothes in sight and threw them on, tripping over books and CDs that lay strewn across my dirty bedroom. After nearly eviscerating myself with a wire music stand that was hidden under a pile of dirty shirts, I was out the door.
"Where are you going?"
I turned around to face my father. His face was flushed and his chest was heaving. He reached into his bathrobe pocket for a pack of cigarettes and pulled one out, lighting it despite our building's strict smoke-free policy. I almost grinned at the sight, but contained myself, wondering who could have possibly driven my father into a fit this early in the morning.
"Band practice," I said casually. "There's a gig tonight at the bar on 7th street. The one I told you about last week."
He took a long drag of his cigarette. "Right," he answered.
"Who was making all the noise this morning?" I asked politely.
He scoffed, glaring at the ceiling. "We have new neighbors," he grumbled, storming back into the apartment and slamming the door.
I chuckled again, walking down to the parking lot. At least my father had someone new to pick on for a change.
The day passed uneventfully. Daichi scolded me upon my late arrival, and didn't talk to me for the rest of the evening. Regardless, Daichi, Katsu, our drummer, Ryo, the lead guitarist, and I managed to pull off a decent show. Or at least everybody at the bar was too drunk to care much about all the missed notes.
Daichi dropped me off at the apartment in his beat-up old station wagon after the show.
I leaned back in car seat, lighting a cigarette.
"Don't smoke in my car," Daichi grumbled.
"Dai, you know I love you," I smirked.
"Save it for Mimi, or some other blonde bimbo," he snarled. I prickled with anger, but allowed Daichi to continue. "I'm sick of you noncommittal attitude, Yamato. Our band isn't going to get good by not practicing. Just… just don't fuck up, okay?" The boy next to me looked at me, with startling sincere brown eyes.
"Dai…"
"Just promise."
I sighed. "I will, I promise. Just cut me some slack, okay?"
"Why should I?" Daichi said, furiously. "Why should Katsu, why should Ryo, why should any of us?"
I took a skilled drag off of my cigarette, blowing the smoke cleanly out the cracked window. I considered for a moment, in the angry silence, to let Daichi know about why I was sitting in the car, grabbing on every opportunity to sit in the car with him and talk…
I grinned broadly. "Because you love me so much, Dai, you know you do…"
"Get the fuck out of my car!" Dai shoved me, rather forcefully, and I finally submitted and got out. He squealed his tires on the pavement as he drove away ferociously.
I sighed, finishing my cigarette, making my slow trek upstairs to the apartment. I opened the door to find my father lounging on the couch. He barely glanced at me as I entered.
"How did your show go?" he asked, gruffly.
I shrugged. "Good, I guess."
He turned back to the television as I made my way to the kitchen for a glass of water.
"I'm having a couple people from work over tonight, so if you could clean up a little, that would be great," echoed my father's voice from the living room.
I scowled. "…And by a couple, you mean one, right?" I asked, sarcastically.
My father came stomping into view, his beer in hand. "Just stay out of my way," he said, coldly, glaring at me. "I'm allowing you to continue this stupid little band of yours, so I except some damn respect in return! You'll do as I say, and stay out of the way tonight."
"You're a drunk," I muttered, glaring at him with all the vehemence I could muster.
His hand shook as he set his beer on the counter. "Get out of my sight," he growled, turning his back to me.
I curtsied behind his back. "It would be my pleasure," I grinned, heading down the hallway to my room.
After I had locked my bedroom door, I realized I had just sent myself to bed without supper. I made for the doorknob, but heard a knock come from the living room, followed by a female voice and my father's laughter. I groaned, throwing myself on my bed.
I glanced over at my clock and some of the framed pictures that stood beside it. My younger brother, Takeru, waved out from one of the frames, standing next to his best friend, Hikari Kamiya.
…Would my life have been better if I had gotten to live with mom and Takeru?
I shook my head, determined to stop pitying myself. As I stood up, another loud crash emitted from overhead.
"DAMN IT!"
My father's voice probably could have been heard for miles. I heard his current girlfriend shriek shrilly from the living room, and then the apartment door open and shut loudly. Looked like the new neighbors are going to get their second dose of my father for the day.
I leaned my head against the cool glass of the sliding door in my room, looking out to the city lights beyond my small balcony. Grabbing a coat and my half empty pack of cigarettes, I went outside, sitting on the small slab of concrete that was my sanctuary.
Lighting a cigarette, I heard muffled yelling from all directions. My father, I presumed.
God, how I hated this town.
I closed my eyes, resting my head on the cold bricks of my apartment building, taking a necessary drag off my cigarette. Exhaling deeply, I opened my eyes to see a tanned leg searching for the balustrade with expert toes.
I watched as a second leg appeared from the balcony above my own. I heard some muffled cursing and then a torso of a young girl appeared, clad in blue pinstriped pajama shorts and a white tank top. She hopped down from the railing, landing on my balcony with a heavy sigh.
"Want a cigarette?" I asked politely, despite my inability to grasp the situation at hand.
She shrieked, finally realizing my presence in the corner. "I'm so sorry, I just… I didn't think," she stuttered.
I grinned. "Whatever," I apologized for her. "Keep your voice down though, I would rather not be overheard, and I can gather that your intentions were to remain hidden tonight? Or maybe I am misunderstanding your current situation," I said coolly, walking up to the girl.
My cigarette tip lit up her face just enough for me to look at her features. She had long, red hair, currently pulled back into a messy bun. Her heart shaped face looked tired, but she was so surprisingly beautiful I was caught a little off-guard. Her long lashes hid ruby colored eyes placed above high cheekbones. Her small mouth was parted slightly, as she was panting from her previous adventure in spelunking. And her body…
"Excuse me?" she said, shortly, drawing my attention away from her extremely long and shapely legs.
I glanced up, grinning. "I said, did you want a cig?"
She tousled her hair, narrowing her eyes at me. "No, thanks. I don't smoke."
"Pity."
"I'm not too fussed about it, actually." She cocked an eyebrow.
"So what brings you to my balcony this fine summer evening?" I asked, leaning against the railing, exhaling.
The girl coughed, waving her hand to fan away the smoke from her face. "Your balcony," she scowled, "was on the way to the street. Sorry for the intrusion, I'll leave you to your cigarette." She hopped up to a sitting position on the railing, and swung one leg over the side.
"Wait."
Maybe it was loneliness that possessed me to stop her, or maybe boredom. I grabbed her arm and she made a face.
"Let me go!" she hissed. "I don't even know who you are."
"Where were you going to go, anyway?" I asked, returning her mean glare.
"I don't know, anywhere but here. Anywhere but this awful town," she said, turning away from me. Her eyes looked just as wistful and lonely as I felt.
"My name is Yamato," I said.
She snapped out of her trance. "What?"
"Yamato," I repeated. "My name is Yamato."
"Let go of me!" she yelled again. "I don't care who the hell you are!" She struggled against my firm grip.
"I just introduced myself to you," I growled, "so now you know me. The polite thing to do would be to introduce yourself, but if you're going to be a bi-"
"A WHAT?"
I rolled my eyes. This girl was more trouble than she was worth. "If you're going to be that way, fine," I growled. "Have a nice night." I let go of her arm. She screamed for the second time that night, loosing her balance on the rail, falling backwards.
"Shit!" I leapt forward, grabbing at her extended arm. Her nails dug into the skin of my forearm, and I clenched my teeth against the extreme pain she was putting me through. Even though she was slender, I was holding her entire body weight, and she was not holding still.
With a great heave, I managed to grasp her around the waist, pulling her to safety. We both collapsed on the cement of the balcony, panting heavily against the iron bars that held us safe. Neither of us spoke for several minutes, as we were both catching our breath and catching up with our nerves. After a while, she finally spoke.
"Sora," she whispered. "My name is Sora."
"It's nice to meet you, Sora," I breathed heavily, extending an arm. She shook it, smiling warmly.
I glanced inside the glass door to my room. The clock on my bedside table read 12:01.
A/N: Please read and review! I appreciate constructive criticism greatly.
Disclaimer: Digimon doesn't belong to me, it belongs to Akiyoshi Hongo, Toei Animation, and BanDai. I'm just borrowing the characters, and I am not receiving and profit for writing this piece of fiction.