Author's Note (12:18 AM 4/2/03) -- Okkei, my mother just referred to Geraldo Rivera as an "insolent peon". Hm... Yes, that had everything to do with nothing, so ha! And about Yamato's odd behaviour (OOC), it will be explained in a later installment.
Fic Details -- AU // Taito, Taichi is a novelist and college student who was lost on a journey down the wrong path, until he met Nippon's blue-eyed treasure Ishida Yamato, and for the first time in years, everything was right.
Disclaimer -- Do I own Digimon? The answer rhymes with "no". It's also strangely similar in context.
Warnings -- Taito, shounen ai, OOC, language, slightly citrusy in later parts, tasteful stupidity, and about everything else... But you're probably not listening to me anyway.
*****
Got Elegance? * Seph Lorraine
Chapter 1 * The Toils of Yagami Taichi
*****
Yagami Taichi sighed in frustration, leaning back in his office swivel-chair, and
turning himself a bit. Following his action was the sudden sound of a waterfall of paper
cascading from his desktop. Jumping up quickly, the young writer scampered, trying to
stop the paper-flow from his desk to the floor, but alas, it was useless. Within a short
amount of seconds, he sat red-faced on the filthy office floor, partially covered by a
mountain of unorganised, wrinkled, and scattered papers. Though, what really pissed him
off was the fact that those papers had previously been the organised, spotless, and
incomplete 217 page manuscript for his current novel.
Which, by the way, was deadlined for completion two weeks ago.
A swarm of curses flew from his autumn-chapped lips as he pulled himself from
the floor in an uncontrollable fury. He kicked at the papers, sending them flying through
the office, and when he had finished with them, he kicked at the desk. The loud
clamouring of his foot against the thin metal of the desk, echoed through the halls of the
dorm, those who strew from their rooms to the hallways to see what was going on could
not see the real damage though.
Hushed voices questioned to each other throughout the hall on the fifth floor of
the dormitory, moving slightly for a boy with red-hair as he began to dart through the
crowd.
"'Scuse me! Comin' through! Make like your sister's hair and -part-!" As the crowd
backed up to the walls to allow him through, the red-head managed to shove a few strays
out of his way, "Move, please!"
Finally, he managed to squeeze through to room 7D, from which all of the racket
was originating. He jerked a pin from his pocket and pried the lock with ease, darting
inside and slamming the door. His eyes bulged.
"What the hell are you doing, Taichi san!?"
Taichi halted, mid-kick, and glanced down at the rather sizable dent in his desk's
metal siding. He blinked and glanced back at the red-head, "Releasing my anger on
inanimate objects. Wasn't it obvious?"
The boy against the door rolled his eyes and took a few steps forward to see the
war zone that was Taichi's office/living area. He winced and bit his lip, "Three words for
you: anger management."
It was the brunette's turn to roll his eyes and sat down with a large sigh. He shook
his head and placed it in his hand, which he propped upon his knees, "Oh God... I don't
know what to do, K'shiro san. I just don't know."
Glancing around the gigantic mess that was Taichi's college dorm room, the
shorter boy ran a hand through his spiky red hair, glancing around for a place to sit.
When he found a spot clean enough to be deemed worthy of his sitting, he seated himself
on the floor between two pizza boxes and a very foul smelling football-shoe. The odor
being more than he could stand, he simply figured he would have to breathe through his
mouth.
"I don't know how to help you, Taichi san. I could tell you how many bytes in a
megabyte, and debate with you for hours on the theories of human evolution, but writing
is simply -not- by area." The shorter boy glanced at the pizza boxes wearily, "Shouldn't
those be somewhere else?"
Tai blinked, "Like, where?"
Prodding the stack, and pushing it slightly away from himself, the red-head
wrinkled his nose, "Like... Not here?"
"If they bother you so much, get rid of them, yourself."
"Nah..." Koushiro glanced fleetingly at the door, "I have a paper to write on
atomic structure and bonds, so I really can't stay long."
"Oh..." The writer nodded, glancing to the window, outside of which daylight
glowed freely and invitingly. His deep chocolate eyes lingered on the luminescent light of
the outside world. The days of early autumn were always the most beautiful.
"So, why were you in here pitching a fit, anyway?"
The brunette looked up, meeting the shorter boy's gaze with tired brown eyes, "I
don't know what to do. This story should have been completed two weeks ago. Hell, it
should have been through the first two editing drafts, by now! I'm behind, and I'm
uninspired-- I don't know what to write...! Arg! I don't know what to do."
Koushiro blinked, "It's writing, Taichi. It can't be hard to think of -something-."
Brown eyes narrowed, "You try writing a three-hundred page novel sometime,
and see how long it takes -you- to break." He buried his head in his hands, again.
Thinking on these words the boy on the floor nodded. His friend did have a point.
Taichi could wait until the morning before class to compose a twenty-page term essay,
and have it completed and turned in on time, without breaking a sweat. This novel-thing
must have really been hard-pressing to disturb the brunette so much.
Standing, the computer-nerd crossed his arms, keeping his gaze on the young man
before him, "Listen, Taichi san. Take your football and go kick it around a field for a
while, okay? Get your mind off of this book you're writing, and have some fun. Relax!
Maybe you'll have some inspiration when you get back, eh?"
Two tired brown eyes, rimmed mildly with red, stared up at Koushiro, "You really
think I have the energy? I've been living on coffee for the past 53 hours. I somehow get
the feeling that me kicking around a football for even just a few minutes would -not-
work out."
The red-head's eyes widened, "Gods! No wonder you can't write! Go to sleep!
Decent literature cannot be composed under such conditions!" The redhead glanced
down at his watch, "Oh, damn... I need to finish that paper." He darted out the door, his
red shirt making him no more than a blur of red to the human eye, "Later, Taichi san!
And keep down the volume!"
Taichi watched the door, out of which his friend had just exited, and sighed again.
The sunlight cast it's luminescent glow upon his filth-covered floor, making him suddenly
yearn to feel it upon his skin. He slowly turned his gaze to the window, again, and gazed
out, seeing nothing but the tops of buildings and a sky of blue. Koushiro was right, he did
need to get out for a while.
As if that very thought finalised it, the young writer was out of his seat, grabbing
his keys and exiting the door in one rapid motion.
*****
The sunlight was warm against his shoulders and back, seeping through the thin
material of his shirt, into his lightly tanned skin. He felt the light blow of the autumn
winds, though, slightly chilling him, since he had neglected his jacket back at the dorm.
He slightly frowned at the imbalance in temperature and began to wonder where he was
even going and why he was out fooling around, when he should be working (or sleeping,
so that he might work more productively).
Noticing that he was nearing Mimi's Cafe, a place owned by another good friend
of his, Taichi quickened his steps to get inside and out of the uncomfortable wind. The
door opened easily, allowing him access to the nicely decorated cafe on the busy street's
corner. He glanced around, surveying the atmosphere lightly before walking any further.
He didn't usually bother with small cozy places like Mimi's. He was always more of a
fast-food junkie.
After-all, McDonald's -does- serve everything a human being needs to survive.
A bit timid, he made his way over to an empty table by the window. There wasn't
much noise, really, just the nice atmosphere of small conversation that drifted from all
about the room. A couple chatted idly, sipping cappuccino on a lime-green couch in front
of a fire of gas-logs in an English-styled fireplace, made of stone. Near them, in a circle
of burgundy arm-chairs, sat a group of school girls from the local high school, in an
involved conversation over cake and tea. Taking in his casual surroundings, Taichi seated
himself with comfort and felt himself finally relaxing.
He sat silently, glancing out the window with a tired expression, trying to clear his
mind. A little girl with a red balloon was quickly running from a young boy, probably her
brother. Her cherry cheeks were vivid against her pale skin as she ran with the balloon
through the cool wind. She didn't have to worry about writing books and meeting
deadlines. She just had to run, and hold on to her balloon.
'I miss those days...'
"Taichi kun!" A young girl, around Taichi's age stood at the opening of his booth.
Her long pink locks of hair were partly held up in a stylish twist, leaving the rest to fall
neatly of her shoulders. Her brown eyes [1] were large and smiling, as her entire being
seemed to radiate with unstoppable energy.
What the writer would have given for that kind of energy at the moment was a
long list. He made his smile, even knowing his labours to do so were right beside
fruitless. "Mimi san konnichiwa."
The girl frowned, her large eyes and pale pink-tinted lips exaggerating the small
expression, "Ano... You look tired, Taichi kun. Still working on that novel?"
The brunette nodded dully, watching as she made to sit on the edge of the seat
across from him.
"You shouldn't push yourself so hard, you know. You look like you need sleep, it's
not good for your complexion to--"
"Mimi, spare me." He made it a point to glare at her, but the expression was lost
in his fatigue.
The pink-haired girl smiled softly, "I'll get you some coffee, okkei? No charge.
Would you like any cream or sugar?"
Taichi managed a small smile at her this time, "No, just black."
"All right, then! It appears my work hours are over..." She glanced down at the
pink wristband that was her watch, "I'll send your coffee out with Ayame in just a
minute." She winked and headed back for the counter.
"Arigatou..." He doubted she heard his muttered thanks, though.
After only a moment his coffee was brought to him by a petite girl in a pink
jumper (as all of Mimi's workers wore). She winked at him, seeing his rather gloomy
expression and told him to 'cheer up' before she returned to the counter, leaving him with
his thoughts and Mimi's small wave as she exited her cafe.
As he felt the air around him dull to a comfortable hum, and his eyes drifting shut
in a surprisingly strong sense of fatigue, a loud squeal pierced the air.
"Aa! Yamato kun! I wasn't expecting you to arrive until Friday!" A girl with short
strawberry-blond hair darted from the booth directly behind the tired writer to jump into
the arms of a strange man, whom had apparently just entered.
Taichi growled slightly under his breath and glared at the girl for disturbing his
peace. He recognised her. She was in his Psychology class, though as far as he knew, she
was nameless--
"Sora chan--"
Ok, so she did have a name.
"--I wasn't expecting to see you here." The man replied, his voice calm, despite it's
air of questioning.
Taichi froze in his seat, his eyes widening. He knew that voice. Turning, to view
the doorway where the couple stood, he noticed that everyone in the whole of the cafe
had stopped to stare open-mouthed at the scene in the door. His brown-eyed gaze
continued until it set on the scene at the door. Yes, he did know that voice after-all.
The one and only Ishida Yamato of The Wolves [2] was standing in the doorway
of Mimi's Cafe, in the middle of Odaiba (of all places) hugging the girl who sat only
three seats to the direct left of him in his Tuesday-Friday 13:30 Psychology class.
Without willing it so, he felt his jaw drop. Ishida Yamato. The blue-eyed wonder of
Nippon. The lead vocalist and guitarist of the leading J-Rock band of the century. A band
that had managed seven hit singles in a row shortly after the release of their second
album. 'Ishida Yamato.'
How had he managed to remember all of that, anyway?
"Oh, Yamato kun! Your tour was so long! I missed you so much!" She had locked
her arms securely behind his shoulders and was now nuzzling her face into the crook of
the blond man's neck with a blinding sense of longing. "Why didn't you tell me you'd be
back today? I would have planned something special!"
It was only now that the girl's face was concealed in the blond man's neck that
Taichi could get a good look at the man in the doorway. Two icy sky-blue eyes
shimmered chillingly from beneath hanging locks of soft golden hair. He was tall and
lithe, a slim body with no real muscular build, but an obvious strength. He wore a thin
waist-length black jacket over a simple white button-up shirt with black-slacks, and a
silver chain around his neck. He looked like what you would imagine any formal
musician to look like, really, but it was fairly obvious to see why the man was Japan's
'hottest male bachelor'.
One word came to Taichi's tongue immediately, "Elegant..." Though, it escaped
merely as a whisper.
Frowning slightly, the writer leaned back in his seat, still watching the sight at the
doorway. He was surprised, most definitely; why the hell was Ishida Yamato standing
only a distance of approximately ten metres away from -him- in some unknown cafe in a
place hardly anyone ever went? He was confused; maybe if he paid more attention to his
fellow classmates he would have noticed that he knew the girl who was Ishida Yamato's
girlfriend? He was intrigued; he had been a mediocre fan of The Wolves since the first
single of their first album had been released. He resisted the urge laugh as he watched the
slightly edgy looking blond try to pry the girl-- Sora-- from his neck, with an expression
of slight annoyance.
This was turning into a very eventful day.
Finally, the girl was off, and the blond appeared to be breathing regularly again,
his eyes a calm, serious blue. He glanced around the cafe uncomfortably, his gaze didn't
seem to flicker over Taichi, though. The high school girls from earlier, in their circle,
began to giggle and squeal in sickeningly soprano voices as Yamato took Sora's wrist
gently and began leading her to the booth where she had been sitting, only a moment
earlier. Right behind Taichi.
The people of the cafe slowly began to return to their earlier discussions as
Yamato and his girl headed towards their booth. Though, not without a few stiffled
giggles and murmurs over the extremely handsome musician.
As they walked by, though, Taichi couldn't help but study the undeniably
handsome celebrity passing his table. Maybe his gaze had been a bit too obvious, or
maybe the blond had suddenly mistaken him for someone else, but as the blond man
passed, his icy blue eyes met Taichi's for a full second. In the blue eyes there was a sort
of casual surprise, almost as if one friend saying to another: 'Oh, Taichi! Wait here a
moment, won't you? I've been meaning to talk to you about something.'
The writer blinked.
It was nearing nightfall by this time, and the blond had finally taken his seat in the
booth, behind Taichi, leaving the brunette to think in a hazy awe-struck puzzlement. It
seemed only practical that he return to his dorm to continue his writing at this time, and
yet, another part of him was still stuck on that pair of blue eyes. He knew he had
probably only imagined that silent message in the blond man's eyes, but the wistful,
childish nature within him wouldn't allow him to do anything but stay where he was. Just
in case.
It seemed as if almost an hour had passed, but maybe not quite, when the girl--
Sora-- finally stood, shortly followed by what was now assumed to be her boyfriend--the
famous Ishida Yamato. She was laughing softly over some small trivial matter, now, as
they appeared to be saying good-byes. She began drifting slowly to the door, her palm
lazily grazing his.
"Come on, Yamato kun. Won't you even walk a girl home?" She winked, her
cherry lips pursed lightly in a pout.
"I told you, Sora. I would be honoured to do so, but I have things to attend to
while I am in the area. I shall see you tomorrow." He replied, his tone was soft, but not
quite passionate.
She finally caved, and let a smile seep through, "Fine, then. But, remember! If
you're not over by four, Mimi will have my head and yours, too--"
Mimi? Taichi blinked at the mention of his good friend's name.
"--She's been dying to meet you, and I promised I would arrange it."
"Fine, then. I shall be there." He smiled lightly, an expression too formal for
someone in such a casual situation, "Good night, Sora chan."
She waved, leaving the shop.
Taichi sat motionless for a while, watching as the girl look off down the street,
her mobile phone pressed against her right ear all the way. She disappeared into a crowd
of faceless people, as the yellow sky seemed to darken, above. It would be night soon.
Slowly, he looked away and froze.
Sitting in the booth, directly across from him was the man over which he had
been pondering for the last hour. He had his arms crossed casually over his chest, his
head tilted just the slightest bit to the right, and his eyes were narrowed slightly, as if
examining a painting in a museum. He then straightened his head suddenly, his eyes
raising, almost as if he had just found what he was looking for.
"Konbanwa." His voice was a perfect tone to match his looks, the enunciation of
every syllable was flawless in clarity, and the volume at a low sounding-- a sign that this
was directed at -him- and no one else. No wonder The Wolves were so popular; Yamato's
regular voice was every bit as melodic as his singing. But then again, what else could you
expect?
Not knowing properly how to respond to the other man, Taichi replied in the first
way that popped into his head, "Ishida Yamato?"
The musician was still for a moment, before the corners of his lips turned up
slightly, a small glimmer in his blue eyes. "I was quite surprised to note that you were
still around..."
"Should I have left?" The writer wasn't exactly sure where that question came
from, but never-the-less it was asked.
"No, you see... I was hoping you would be." Yamato lifted a pale hand, his thin
fingers brushing a few strands a loose blond hair behind his left ear. His eyes revealed
nothing of the thoughts within his mind, and from the way he spoke, his tone didn't
either.
The brunette was surprised by this. This was definitely odd. The famous Ishida
Yamato wanted to talk to him? "Why?"
As if it was the stupidest question he'd heard, the blue-eyed musician spoke
monotonously, "Should I have a reason?"
"Yes... I think you should..."
"Pardon, monsieur, s'il vous plait, if I don't." The blond spoke, his eyes still gave
away no hints to the thoughts that passed behind them. Neither did his posture or the rest
of his facial expressions. The man could have been thinking of all the ways to scrape
gum off of his shoes, and Taichi probably wouldn't have had a clue.
"Er..." What was he supposed to say now?
"It's quite odd, you know." The musician continued, his eyes practically piercing
through Taichi's own, "I sense you are someone of importance, yet you seem an illusion
of insignificance."
What the hell? The brunette was not quite sure whether to be offended or what,
"Do you do this often?"
"Yes." Yamato then paused as if thinking, "What do you mean?"
"Randomly targeting poor people in cafes and analyzing them in a manner of
which can only be understood by one who's perhaps a bit off?" The brown-eyed boy
found that his left eyebrow had lifted in a questioning manner as he stared at the
strangely attractive man before him.
"No." The rock star said quietly, running a hand through his well-gelled hair,
knocking a few strands from their places in perfection-- yet looking no worse than before
the action. "Actually, that was just an observation-- completely unimportant. I actually
wanted to ask you for some advice."
"You just said you didn't know why you were talking to me."
There was silence as Yamato folded his arms together again, across his chest and
observed the brunette with an unreadable visage, finally he made to reply, "I was lying."
"You lie to me... And then you ask me for advice?" The writer asked
monotonously, trying to piece together the blonde's chain of thought behind his actions
and found himself failing miserably, "What makes you think I'll give you any advice?"
The man across from him made to shrug, but never quite completed the action,
"Well, it's not as if my trivial and completely unimportant lie meant anything to you
personally did it? You don't know me. Why should it matter?"
For some reason, though he knew the argument he pursued was useless and quite
stupid, he found himself quickly responding in opposition, "I don't have to know you to
take it offensively. I disagree that it makes a very large difference about your lie. I am not
one to be lied to-- especially by a stranger. I find it offensive that you think you can lie to
me because I am a stranger."
"But the lie meant nothing, and very well might not have existed. Besides,"
Yamato shook his head lightly, a few strands fleeing from his eyes, "it wasn't a complete
lie. I don't know why I originally wanted to talk to you. I simply came up with a reason
that you would find believable."
"Believable? So the explanation of asking for advice was a lie to?" Taichi
countered.
"No, I do want to ask you some advice, though my other reason-- for which I
came over here in the first place-- is not believable to you, no matter the truth of it." The
musician had a sharp tongue, and defended himself with little effort.
Though, Taichi had a sharp tongue as well (he was, after all, a practiced writer)
and had no problem placing the strikes upon the blond as he saw fit, "So, there was a
reason for your to speaking to me, though you have denied it? Therefore, it was a
complete lie. What was your other reason that I would not have believed?"
"You have already heard it, and you didn't believe it."
"About the advice? No, that was the first reason."
"Aa, but you see, that was my second, as it came after the first. The first, which I
told you when you originally asked why I wanted to talk to you." Blue eyes flickered with
unspoken victory, though despite the small flicker of light in those icy blue orbs, Yamato
remained completely passive and unreadable.
"That I looked like an 'illusion of insignificance' or whatever?"
"No. I clearly stated that, that was completely unimportant. Anyway, I didn't even
make that observation until I had already spoken to you."
"Then why did you even say it at all?"
"I didn't know we would be playing 20 Questions in a matter of seconds later."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"Well, why does anyone say anything?" The blond suddenly narrowed his eyes at
Taichi, though he still didn't seem angry. He simply looked intense to the topic of
discussion.
Taichi blinked, "Well, what was your first--"
"You didn't answer the question." Yamato cut in.
"Ano..." There was some mild confusion. The musician actually expected him to
answer something as rhetorical as that? "To get a point across, I would suppose...?"
A small smirk crossed the guitarist's pale lips, "And if we removed all pointless
phrases from our regular speech, what would we say? There would be little conversation
to be had. Would we still be speaking if I had left out my small observation of
unimportance?"
For some reason, the brunette suddenly felt like he was waking up with a terrible
hangover. Why did this Yamato guy need to be so confusing? "Are you implying that all
of the things said that we consider of little difference, are actually important?"
Blue eyes averted to the window for a moment before refitting their gaze on the
young novelist before them, "Indeed, I am. This whole discussion was less than
'important', but for some reason we are still talking. It must have been important in some
way."
Taichi blinked in understanding, "Though, I still don't know what your
unbelievable first reason for speaking to me was."
"I don't know."
"You forgot or you were lying about that also?" The brown-eyed boy narrowed his
eyes.
"No, that was my reason."
"You didn't know why you wanted to speak to me?"
"I told you first that I had no reason for speaking with you. Though, due to some
oddity in your mind, you didn't believe me."
Taichi was silent, trying to comprehend this, "So you just saw me and said: 'Hey, I
wanna' talk to him'?"
"No."
"...?"
"I didn't say anything."
"But you thought it."
"Well... Maybe the word-ordering was a bit different, but yes."
"..."
Yamato was silent, his expression still impassive. He didn't appear as very
satisfied to have proved his point, but only a fool would think he wasn't.
"Er..." Trying to make his sleep-deprived mind understand the discussion earlier,
the writer blinked, "So... What was this advice you wanted to ask me?"
Apparently this caught the blond off-guard for he jumped in his seat, as if just
noticing that Taichi was in the room, "Advice?"
"Yes... You said something about wanting some advice from me."
"Oh... Oh! Yes, well never mind that. I feel as if I know you, so I very well can't
ask it of you now." The blue-eyed rock star ignored the open-jawed gape of
unbelievability that was so clearly visible on the brunette's face and made to stand up.
"Well, it's been a nice chat, sir nameless-guy. I suppose I should thank you for your time,
so, thank--"
"...Yagami..." Taichi spoke quietly.
Yamato stopped, watching him again, his intense blue eyes narrowly observing
everything visible of the brunette before he replied, "Yagami san. You have a given
name, too?"
"It is of no importance, Ishida san." The brown-eyed novelist spoke quietly, a
small smile curving his lips, "We shall not be meeting again, I trust it."
This time a sort of knowing gleam flickered over the blue-eyed man's visage,
"You shouldn't be over-confidant, Yagami san. For now, I shall have to prove you
wrong."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"It's all subjective. It simply depends on whether you like me or not."
"And what if I'm not sure I do?" Taichi inwardly winced at how insulting that
sounded, and turned his head to observe how the blond would take it. Hopefully he would
not be offended.
The musician stilled completely, thinking of quite how to respond, "Well, for
what it's worth, I like you."
Suddenly, that didn't sound like innocent stranger-to-stranger conversation, and
the brown-eyed man found himself blushing. Ishida Yamato had just said he liked him?
Though, he couldn't possibly mean it -that- way, could he?
Seeing the slight tint of pink upon the tanned man's cheeks, the blond openly
laughed, a honest amusement in his musical voice, "You can take that whatever way you
like, Yagami san."
This only caused the brunette to blush deeper, and the man quickly turned his
head to face the window, "I don't know what you're talking about. Though, I do know that
the chances of us meeting again are null. And for what it's worth, I -don't- like you."
Those words tasted sour as he spit them out, and the aftertaste only served worse
in his mind. The blond that was standing before him was so obviously crazy and yet so
undeniably beautiful that it was almost impossible to say that he disliked him. Yet he had
managed, and just for saying it, he regretted it.
Yamato's face was impassive, when Taichi looked up. An amused tone emanated
from the musician, as he replied, "I never asked you to like me, Yagami san. Personally,
it can't make a difference to me if you like me or not. Though, I suppose it would be
easier if you didn't-- just in case we actually don't see each other again." And like that he
was walking away, heading towards the door (half-wondering why he had come into the
cafe and never ordered anything). "Yagami san, sayounara." He called over his shoulder,
lightly, as he pushed the door open.
"Wait!" The brunette found himself standing suddenly, "I didn't mean that..."
Yamato turned, hearing Taichi's voice, again. There was an amused glint in those
sky blue eyes, "Which part? About not liking me or waiting?"
And with that simple joke, all felt better. The writer suddenly found he was trying
to still himself from bounding forward to give the blond a large and unnecessarily tight
hug. What a weird impulse to receive. He ignored it, his brain still half-fogged without
sleep.
When he came out of his thoughts, Yamato was gone, and the door was slowly
swinging shut.
*****
Two hours later found Taichi back in his dorm with the stereo on top volume, and
disturbing the neighbours who were trying to study or sleep [3]. He leaned back in his
bed, heaving his largest sigh yet and closing his eyes lightly. The pressure of having to
complete that book was really starting to wear on him, and he found himself feeling all
the more tired by the moment.
As he shut his eyes softly, he saw him, again. Ishida Yamato and those blue eyes,
watching him so closely, analysing him for whatever reasons his disturbed mind had. Yet,
he couldn't help but be interested in the musician more and more with each passing
thought. Though, one thing was sure about the blue-eyed stranger. There was something
not quite right about him.
Maybe that was when the inspiration finally came to his conscious mind.
'He would make an excellent character in my story...' His mind ran through a
flurry of ideas, about how he would add in the new character Matt to his story. He
realised it wasn't going to be an easy task. He hardly knew the blond, and from what time
he had spent talking to him today, the musician was so insanely eccentric that it would be
very difficult to construct a character around him. Though, Yagami Taichi was never one
to back down from a challenge.
As he moved to stand and approach his computer for more writing, he found that
he couldn't move at all. That same voice that he had heard only an hour ago was now
drifting softly through his room, increasing in speed and volume only in time of the
single guitar played in accompaniment. It was a new song out by The Wolves, and
suddenly, he found himself straining to focus on every note emitted by that beautiful
voice. Ishida Yamato, no matter how strange in person, did have a beautiful voice...
"Grey days find me
Thinking about you
And how you wonder
Who I am
Yet, at our respected positions
I'm in no place to say
That what I feel for you
Strays another way
So, I'm sorry
I can't do this
So sorry
That I can't do this
And the days
Only get darker from here
And I hear how you talk
And what you ask
And how you want to know
Who I am
Each moment sees me
As someone else
And I've made you see me
As someone else
So, I'm sorry
I can't do this
So sorry
That I can't do this
And the story
Only goes deeper from here
But you won't know
You can't know
I'll never show you
Who I am..."
Of course Taichi didn't hear the song in it's entirety. As far as his weary mind was
concerned, the character 'Matt' could wait until tomorrow. At the moment, he would
much rather fall asleep thinking of Yamato.
So, he did.
*****
To Be Continued...
*****
Notes--
[1] I wasn't sure whether Mimi had brown eyes or red eyes. They kind of look red to me, but when I think about red eyes and pink hair I think of Chibi Usa from BSSM... And that freaks me out. _ So, her eyes are brown now.
[2] "The Wolves" is a band name that I know has been used before, by many separate persons, so please don't be angry with me if you happen to be using it. I know the original name was "The Teenage Wolves" or something to that liking, but you're hardly a teenager anymore when you get to your college-aged years, ne? I probably should've taken the time to think of something original...
[3] For some reason, this reminds me of that film "Matchmaker" when Sean is 'rubbing' the dog with his foot, and the dog keeps making this loud banging sound. And the girl goes to see what's making the sound (because it sounds almost exactly like 'something else') and... Oi. I guess you would just need to watch the film. _ It was all just -really wrong-.
[*] Reviews inspire me to write-- quicker and better. If you would like to see this continued, I urge you to send me your compliments, complaints, death threats, and marriage proposals by reviewing. If you don't want to see this continued, I'm probably going to continue it just to spite you. ^_^
Fic Details -- AU // Taito, Taichi is a novelist and college student who was lost on a journey down the wrong path, until he met Nippon's blue-eyed treasure Ishida Yamato, and for the first time in years, everything was right.
Disclaimer -- Do I own Digimon? The answer rhymes with "no". It's also strangely similar in context.
Warnings -- Taito, shounen ai, OOC, language, slightly citrusy in later parts, tasteful stupidity, and about everything else... But you're probably not listening to me anyway.
*****
Got Elegance? * Seph Lorraine
Chapter 1 * The Toils of Yagami Taichi
*****
Yagami Taichi sighed in frustration, leaning back in his office swivel-chair, and
turning himself a bit. Following his action was the sudden sound of a waterfall of paper
cascading from his desktop. Jumping up quickly, the young writer scampered, trying to
stop the paper-flow from his desk to the floor, but alas, it was useless. Within a short
amount of seconds, he sat red-faced on the filthy office floor, partially covered by a
mountain of unorganised, wrinkled, and scattered papers. Though, what really pissed him
off was the fact that those papers had previously been the organised, spotless, and
incomplete 217 page manuscript for his current novel.
Which, by the way, was deadlined for completion two weeks ago.
A swarm of curses flew from his autumn-chapped lips as he pulled himself from
the floor in an uncontrollable fury. He kicked at the papers, sending them flying through
the office, and when he had finished with them, he kicked at the desk. The loud
clamouring of his foot against the thin metal of the desk, echoed through the halls of the
dorm, those who strew from their rooms to the hallways to see what was going on could
not see the real damage though.
Hushed voices questioned to each other throughout the hall on the fifth floor of
the dormitory, moving slightly for a boy with red-hair as he began to dart through the
crowd.
"'Scuse me! Comin' through! Make like your sister's hair and -part-!" As the crowd
backed up to the walls to allow him through, the red-head managed to shove a few strays
out of his way, "Move, please!"
Finally, he managed to squeeze through to room 7D, from which all of the racket
was originating. He jerked a pin from his pocket and pried the lock with ease, darting
inside and slamming the door. His eyes bulged.
"What the hell are you doing, Taichi san!?"
Taichi halted, mid-kick, and glanced down at the rather sizable dent in his desk's
metal siding. He blinked and glanced back at the red-head, "Releasing my anger on
inanimate objects. Wasn't it obvious?"
The boy against the door rolled his eyes and took a few steps forward to see the
war zone that was Taichi's office/living area. He winced and bit his lip, "Three words for
you: anger management."
It was the brunette's turn to roll his eyes and sat down with a large sigh. He shook
his head and placed it in his hand, which he propped upon his knees, "Oh God... I don't
know what to do, K'shiro san. I just don't know."
Glancing around the gigantic mess that was Taichi's college dorm room, the
shorter boy ran a hand through his spiky red hair, glancing around for a place to sit.
When he found a spot clean enough to be deemed worthy of his sitting, he seated himself
on the floor between two pizza boxes and a very foul smelling football-shoe. The odor
being more than he could stand, he simply figured he would have to breathe through his
mouth.
"I don't know how to help you, Taichi san. I could tell you how many bytes in a
megabyte, and debate with you for hours on the theories of human evolution, but writing
is simply -not- by area." The shorter boy glanced at the pizza boxes wearily, "Shouldn't
those be somewhere else?"
Tai blinked, "Like, where?"
Prodding the stack, and pushing it slightly away from himself, the red-head
wrinkled his nose, "Like... Not here?"
"If they bother you so much, get rid of them, yourself."
"Nah..." Koushiro glanced fleetingly at the door, "I have a paper to write on
atomic structure and bonds, so I really can't stay long."
"Oh..." The writer nodded, glancing to the window, outside of which daylight
glowed freely and invitingly. His deep chocolate eyes lingered on the luminescent light of
the outside world. The days of early autumn were always the most beautiful.
"So, why were you in here pitching a fit, anyway?"
The brunette looked up, meeting the shorter boy's gaze with tired brown eyes, "I
don't know what to do. This story should have been completed two weeks ago. Hell, it
should have been through the first two editing drafts, by now! I'm behind, and I'm
uninspired-- I don't know what to write...! Arg! I don't know what to do."
Koushiro blinked, "It's writing, Taichi. It can't be hard to think of -something-."
Brown eyes narrowed, "You try writing a three-hundred page novel sometime,
and see how long it takes -you- to break." He buried his head in his hands, again.
Thinking on these words the boy on the floor nodded. His friend did have a point.
Taichi could wait until the morning before class to compose a twenty-page term essay,
and have it completed and turned in on time, without breaking a sweat. This novel-thing
must have really been hard-pressing to disturb the brunette so much.
Standing, the computer-nerd crossed his arms, keeping his gaze on the young man
before him, "Listen, Taichi san. Take your football and go kick it around a field for a
while, okay? Get your mind off of this book you're writing, and have some fun. Relax!
Maybe you'll have some inspiration when you get back, eh?"
Two tired brown eyes, rimmed mildly with red, stared up at Koushiro, "You really
think I have the energy? I've been living on coffee for the past 53 hours. I somehow get
the feeling that me kicking around a football for even just a few minutes would -not-
work out."
The red-head's eyes widened, "Gods! No wonder you can't write! Go to sleep!
Decent literature cannot be composed under such conditions!" The redhead glanced
down at his watch, "Oh, damn... I need to finish that paper." He darted out the door, his
red shirt making him no more than a blur of red to the human eye, "Later, Taichi san!
And keep down the volume!"
Taichi watched the door, out of which his friend had just exited, and sighed again.
The sunlight cast it's luminescent glow upon his filth-covered floor, making him suddenly
yearn to feel it upon his skin. He slowly turned his gaze to the window, again, and gazed
out, seeing nothing but the tops of buildings and a sky of blue. Koushiro was right, he did
need to get out for a while.
As if that very thought finalised it, the young writer was out of his seat, grabbing
his keys and exiting the door in one rapid motion.
*****
The sunlight was warm against his shoulders and back, seeping through the thin
material of his shirt, into his lightly tanned skin. He felt the light blow of the autumn
winds, though, slightly chilling him, since he had neglected his jacket back at the dorm.
He slightly frowned at the imbalance in temperature and began to wonder where he was
even going and why he was out fooling around, when he should be working (or sleeping,
so that he might work more productively).
Noticing that he was nearing Mimi's Cafe, a place owned by another good friend
of his, Taichi quickened his steps to get inside and out of the uncomfortable wind. The
door opened easily, allowing him access to the nicely decorated cafe on the busy street's
corner. He glanced around, surveying the atmosphere lightly before walking any further.
He didn't usually bother with small cozy places like Mimi's. He was always more of a
fast-food junkie.
After-all, McDonald's -does- serve everything a human being needs to survive.
A bit timid, he made his way over to an empty table by the window. There wasn't
much noise, really, just the nice atmosphere of small conversation that drifted from all
about the room. A couple chatted idly, sipping cappuccino on a lime-green couch in front
of a fire of gas-logs in an English-styled fireplace, made of stone. Near them, in a circle
of burgundy arm-chairs, sat a group of school girls from the local high school, in an
involved conversation over cake and tea. Taking in his casual surroundings, Taichi seated
himself with comfort and felt himself finally relaxing.
He sat silently, glancing out the window with a tired expression, trying to clear his
mind. A little girl with a red balloon was quickly running from a young boy, probably her
brother. Her cherry cheeks were vivid against her pale skin as she ran with the balloon
through the cool wind. She didn't have to worry about writing books and meeting
deadlines. She just had to run, and hold on to her balloon.
'I miss those days...'
"Taichi kun!" A young girl, around Taichi's age stood at the opening of his booth.
Her long pink locks of hair were partly held up in a stylish twist, leaving the rest to fall
neatly of her shoulders. Her brown eyes [1] were large and smiling, as her entire being
seemed to radiate with unstoppable energy.
What the writer would have given for that kind of energy at the moment was a
long list. He made his smile, even knowing his labours to do so were right beside
fruitless. "Mimi san konnichiwa."
The girl frowned, her large eyes and pale pink-tinted lips exaggerating the small
expression, "Ano... You look tired, Taichi kun. Still working on that novel?"
The brunette nodded dully, watching as she made to sit on the edge of the seat
across from him.
"You shouldn't push yourself so hard, you know. You look like you need sleep, it's
not good for your complexion to--"
"Mimi, spare me." He made it a point to glare at her, but the expression was lost
in his fatigue.
The pink-haired girl smiled softly, "I'll get you some coffee, okkei? No charge.
Would you like any cream or sugar?"
Taichi managed a small smile at her this time, "No, just black."
"All right, then! It appears my work hours are over..." She glanced down at the
pink wristband that was her watch, "I'll send your coffee out with Ayame in just a
minute." She winked and headed back for the counter.
"Arigatou..." He doubted she heard his muttered thanks, though.
After only a moment his coffee was brought to him by a petite girl in a pink
jumper (as all of Mimi's workers wore). She winked at him, seeing his rather gloomy
expression and told him to 'cheer up' before she returned to the counter, leaving him with
his thoughts and Mimi's small wave as she exited her cafe.
As he felt the air around him dull to a comfortable hum, and his eyes drifting shut
in a surprisingly strong sense of fatigue, a loud squeal pierced the air.
"Aa! Yamato kun! I wasn't expecting you to arrive until Friday!" A girl with short
strawberry-blond hair darted from the booth directly behind the tired writer to jump into
the arms of a strange man, whom had apparently just entered.
Taichi growled slightly under his breath and glared at the girl for disturbing his
peace. He recognised her. She was in his Psychology class, though as far as he knew, she
was nameless--
"Sora chan--"
Ok, so she did have a name.
"--I wasn't expecting to see you here." The man replied, his voice calm, despite it's
air of questioning.
Taichi froze in his seat, his eyes widening. He knew that voice. Turning, to view
the doorway where the couple stood, he noticed that everyone in the whole of the cafe
had stopped to stare open-mouthed at the scene in the door. His brown-eyed gaze
continued until it set on the scene at the door. Yes, he did know that voice after-all.
The one and only Ishida Yamato of The Wolves [2] was standing in the doorway
of Mimi's Cafe, in the middle of Odaiba (of all places) hugging the girl who sat only
three seats to the direct left of him in his Tuesday-Friday 13:30 Psychology class.
Without willing it so, he felt his jaw drop. Ishida Yamato. The blue-eyed wonder of
Nippon. The lead vocalist and guitarist of the leading J-Rock band of the century. A band
that had managed seven hit singles in a row shortly after the release of their second
album. 'Ishida Yamato.'
How had he managed to remember all of that, anyway?
"Oh, Yamato kun! Your tour was so long! I missed you so much!" She had locked
her arms securely behind his shoulders and was now nuzzling her face into the crook of
the blond man's neck with a blinding sense of longing. "Why didn't you tell me you'd be
back today? I would have planned something special!"
It was only now that the girl's face was concealed in the blond man's neck that
Taichi could get a good look at the man in the doorway. Two icy sky-blue eyes
shimmered chillingly from beneath hanging locks of soft golden hair. He was tall and
lithe, a slim body with no real muscular build, but an obvious strength. He wore a thin
waist-length black jacket over a simple white button-up shirt with black-slacks, and a
silver chain around his neck. He looked like what you would imagine any formal
musician to look like, really, but it was fairly obvious to see why the man was Japan's
'hottest male bachelor'.
One word came to Taichi's tongue immediately, "Elegant..." Though, it escaped
merely as a whisper.
Frowning slightly, the writer leaned back in his seat, still watching the sight at the
doorway. He was surprised, most definitely; why the hell was Ishida Yamato standing
only a distance of approximately ten metres away from -him- in some unknown cafe in a
place hardly anyone ever went? He was confused; maybe if he paid more attention to his
fellow classmates he would have noticed that he knew the girl who was Ishida Yamato's
girlfriend? He was intrigued; he had been a mediocre fan of The Wolves since the first
single of their first album had been released. He resisted the urge laugh as he watched the
slightly edgy looking blond try to pry the girl-- Sora-- from his neck, with an expression
of slight annoyance.
This was turning into a very eventful day.
Finally, the girl was off, and the blond appeared to be breathing regularly again,
his eyes a calm, serious blue. He glanced around the cafe uncomfortably, his gaze didn't
seem to flicker over Taichi, though. The high school girls from earlier, in their circle,
began to giggle and squeal in sickeningly soprano voices as Yamato took Sora's wrist
gently and began leading her to the booth where she had been sitting, only a moment
earlier. Right behind Taichi.
The people of the cafe slowly began to return to their earlier discussions as
Yamato and his girl headed towards their booth. Though, not without a few stiffled
giggles and murmurs over the extremely handsome musician.
As they walked by, though, Taichi couldn't help but study the undeniably
handsome celebrity passing his table. Maybe his gaze had been a bit too obvious, or
maybe the blond had suddenly mistaken him for someone else, but as the blond man
passed, his icy blue eyes met Taichi's for a full second. In the blue eyes there was a sort
of casual surprise, almost as if one friend saying to another: 'Oh, Taichi! Wait here a
moment, won't you? I've been meaning to talk to you about something.'
The writer blinked.
It was nearing nightfall by this time, and the blond had finally taken his seat in the
booth, behind Taichi, leaving the brunette to think in a hazy awe-struck puzzlement. It
seemed only practical that he return to his dorm to continue his writing at this time, and
yet, another part of him was still stuck on that pair of blue eyes. He knew he had
probably only imagined that silent message in the blond man's eyes, but the wistful,
childish nature within him wouldn't allow him to do anything but stay where he was. Just
in case.
It seemed as if almost an hour had passed, but maybe not quite, when the girl--
Sora-- finally stood, shortly followed by what was now assumed to be her boyfriend--the
famous Ishida Yamato. She was laughing softly over some small trivial matter, now, as
they appeared to be saying good-byes. She began drifting slowly to the door, her palm
lazily grazing his.
"Come on, Yamato kun. Won't you even walk a girl home?" She winked, her
cherry lips pursed lightly in a pout.
"I told you, Sora. I would be honoured to do so, but I have things to attend to
while I am in the area. I shall see you tomorrow." He replied, his tone was soft, but not
quite passionate.
She finally caved, and let a smile seep through, "Fine, then. But, remember! If
you're not over by four, Mimi will have my head and yours, too--"
Mimi? Taichi blinked at the mention of his good friend's name.
"--She's been dying to meet you, and I promised I would arrange it."
"Fine, then. I shall be there." He smiled lightly, an expression too formal for
someone in such a casual situation, "Good night, Sora chan."
She waved, leaving the shop.
Taichi sat motionless for a while, watching as the girl look off down the street,
her mobile phone pressed against her right ear all the way. She disappeared into a crowd
of faceless people, as the yellow sky seemed to darken, above. It would be night soon.
Slowly, he looked away and froze.
Sitting in the booth, directly across from him was the man over which he had
been pondering for the last hour. He had his arms crossed casually over his chest, his
head tilted just the slightest bit to the right, and his eyes were narrowed slightly, as if
examining a painting in a museum. He then straightened his head suddenly, his eyes
raising, almost as if he had just found what he was looking for.
"Konbanwa." His voice was a perfect tone to match his looks, the enunciation of
every syllable was flawless in clarity, and the volume at a low sounding-- a sign that this
was directed at -him- and no one else. No wonder The Wolves were so popular; Yamato's
regular voice was every bit as melodic as his singing. But then again, what else could you
expect?
Not knowing properly how to respond to the other man, Taichi replied in the first
way that popped into his head, "Ishida Yamato?"
The musician was still for a moment, before the corners of his lips turned up
slightly, a small glimmer in his blue eyes. "I was quite surprised to note that you were
still around..."
"Should I have left?" The writer wasn't exactly sure where that question came
from, but never-the-less it was asked.
"No, you see... I was hoping you would be." Yamato lifted a pale hand, his thin
fingers brushing a few strands a loose blond hair behind his left ear. His eyes revealed
nothing of the thoughts within his mind, and from the way he spoke, his tone didn't
either.
The brunette was surprised by this. This was definitely odd. The famous Ishida
Yamato wanted to talk to him? "Why?"
As if it was the stupidest question he'd heard, the blue-eyed musician spoke
monotonously, "Should I have a reason?"
"Yes... I think you should..."
"Pardon, monsieur, s'il vous plait, if I don't." The blond spoke, his eyes still gave
away no hints to the thoughts that passed behind them. Neither did his posture or the rest
of his facial expressions. The man could have been thinking of all the ways to scrape
gum off of his shoes, and Taichi probably wouldn't have had a clue.
"Er..." What was he supposed to say now?
"It's quite odd, you know." The musician continued, his eyes practically piercing
through Taichi's own, "I sense you are someone of importance, yet you seem an illusion
of insignificance."
What the hell? The brunette was not quite sure whether to be offended or what,
"Do you do this often?"
"Yes." Yamato then paused as if thinking, "What do you mean?"
"Randomly targeting poor people in cafes and analyzing them in a manner of
which can only be understood by one who's perhaps a bit off?" The brown-eyed boy
found that his left eyebrow had lifted in a questioning manner as he stared at the
strangely attractive man before him.
"No." The rock star said quietly, running a hand through his well-gelled hair,
knocking a few strands from their places in perfection-- yet looking no worse than before
the action. "Actually, that was just an observation-- completely unimportant. I actually
wanted to ask you for some advice."
"You just said you didn't know why you were talking to me."
There was silence as Yamato folded his arms together again, across his chest and
observed the brunette with an unreadable visage, finally he made to reply, "I was lying."
"You lie to me... And then you ask me for advice?" The writer asked
monotonously, trying to piece together the blonde's chain of thought behind his actions
and found himself failing miserably, "What makes you think I'll give you any advice?"
The man across from him made to shrug, but never quite completed the action,
"Well, it's not as if my trivial and completely unimportant lie meant anything to you
personally did it? You don't know me. Why should it matter?"
For some reason, though he knew the argument he pursued was useless and quite
stupid, he found himself quickly responding in opposition, "I don't have to know you to
take it offensively. I disagree that it makes a very large difference about your lie. I am not
one to be lied to-- especially by a stranger. I find it offensive that you think you can lie to
me because I am a stranger."
"But the lie meant nothing, and very well might not have existed. Besides,"
Yamato shook his head lightly, a few strands fleeing from his eyes, "it wasn't a complete
lie. I don't know why I originally wanted to talk to you. I simply came up with a reason
that you would find believable."
"Believable? So the explanation of asking for advice was a lie to?" Taichi
countered.
"No, I do want to ask you some advice, though my other reason-- for which I
came over here in the first place-- is not believable to you, no matter the truth of it." The
musician had a sharp tongue, and defended himself with little effort.
Though, Taichi had a sharp tongue as well (he was, after all, a practiced writer)
and had no problem placing the strikes upon the blond as he saw fit, "So, there was a
reason for your to speaking to me, though you have denied it? Therefore, it was a
complete lie. What was your other reason that I would not have believed?"
"You have already heard it, and you didn't believe it."
"About the advice? No, that was the first reason."
"Aa, but you see, that was my second, as it came after the first. The first, which I
told you when you originally asked why I wanted to talk to you." Blue eyes flickered with
unspoken victory, though despite the small flicker of light in those icy blue orbs, Yamato
remained completely passive and unreadable.
"That I looked like an 'illusion of insignificance' or whatever?"
"No. I clearly stated that, that was completely unimportant. Anyway, I didn't even
make that observation until I had already spoken to you."
"Then why did you even say it at all?"
"I didn't know we would be playing 20 Questions in a matter of seconds later."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"Well, why does anyone say anything?" The blond suddenly narrowed his eyes at
Taichi, though he still didn't seem angry. He simply looked intense to the topic of
discussion.
Taichi blinked, "Well, what was your first--"
"You didn't answer the question." Yamato cut in.
"Ano..." There was some mild confusion. The musician actually expected him to
answer something as rhetorical as that? "To get a point across, I would suppose...?"
A small smirk crossed the guitarist's pale lips, "And if we removed all pointless
phrases from our regular speech, what would we say? There would be little conversation
to be had. Would we still be speaking if I had left out my small observation of
unimportance?"
For some reason, the brunette suddenly felt like he was waking up with a terrible
hangover. Why did this Yamato guy need to be so confusing? "Are you implying that all
of the things said that we consider of little difference, are actually important?"
Blue eyes averted to the window for a moment before refitting their gaze on the
young novelist before them, "Indeed, I am. This whole discussion was less than
'important', but for some reason we are still talking. It must have been important in some
way."
Taichi blinked in understanding, "Though, I still don't know what your
unbelievable first reason for speaking to me was."
"I don't know."
"You forgot or you were lying about that also?" The brown-eyed boy narrowed his
eyes.
"No, that was my reason."
"You didn't know why you wanted to speak to me?"
"I told you first that I had no reason for speaking with you. Though, due to some
oddity in your mind, you didn't believe me."
Taichi was silent, trying to comprehend this, "So you just saw me and said: 'Hey, I
wanna' talk to him'?"
"No."
"...?"
"I didn't say anything."
"But you thought it."
"Well... Maybe the word-ordering was a bit different, but yes."
"..."
Yamato was silent, his expression still impassive. He didn't appear as very
satisfied to have proved his point, but only a fool would think he wasn't.
"Er..." Trying to make his sleep-deprived mind understand the discussion earlier,
the writer blinked, "So... What was this advice you wanted to ask me?"
Apparently this caught the blond off-guard for he jumped in his seat, as if just
noticing that Taichi was in the room, "Advice?"
"Yes... You said something about wanting some advice from me."
"Oh... Oh! Yes, well never mind that. I feel as if I know you, so I very well can't
ask it of you now." The blue-eyed rock star ignored the open-jawed gape of
unbelievability that was so clearly visible on the brunette's face and made to stand up.
"Well, it's been a nice chat, sir nameless-guy. I suppose I should thank you for your time,
so, thank--"
"...Yagami..." Taichi spoke quietly.
Yamato stopped, watching him again, his intense blue eyes narrowly observing
everything visible of the brunette before he replied, "Yagami san. You have a given
name, too?"
"It is of no importance, Ishida san." The brown-eyed novelist spoke quietly, a
small smile curving his lips, "We shall not be meeting again, I trust it."
This time a sort of knowing gleam flickered over the blue-eyed man's visage,
"You shouldn't be over-confidant, Yagami san. For now, I shall have to prove you
wrong."
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"It's all subjective. It simply depends on whether you like me or not."
"And what if I'm not sure I do?" Taichi inwardly winced at how insulting that
sounded, and turned his head to observe how the blond would take it. Hopefully he would
not be offended.
The musician stilled completely, thinking of quite how to respond, "Well, for
what it's worth, I like you."
Suddenly, that didn't sound like innocent stranger-to-stranger conversation, and
the brown-eyed man found himself blushing. Ishida Yamato had just said he liked him?
Though, he couldn't possibly mean it -that- way, could he?
Seeing the slight tint of pink upon the tanned man's cheeks, the blond openly
laughed, a honest amusement in his musical voice, "You can take that whatever way you
like, Yagami san."
This only caused the brunette to blush deeper, and the man quickly turned his
head to face the window, "I don't know what you're talking about. Though, I do know that
the chances of us meeting again are null. And for what it's worth, I -don't- like you."
Those words tasted sour as he spit them out, and the aftertaste only served worse
in his mind. The blond that was standing before him was so obviously crazy and yet so
undeniably beautiful that it was almost impossible to say that he disliked him. Yet he had
managed, and just for saying it, he regretted it.
Yamato's face was impassive, when Taichi looked up. An amused tone emanated
from the musician, as he replied, "I never asked you to like me, Yagami san. Personally,
it can't make a difference to me if you like me or not. Though, I suppose it would be
easier if you didn't-- just in case we actually don't see each other again." And like that he
was walking away, heading towards the door (half-wondering why he had come into the
cafe and never ordered anything). "Yagami san, sayounara." He called over his shoulder,
lightly, as he pushed the door open.
"Wait!" The brunette found himself standing suddenly, "I didn't mean that..."
Yamato turned, hearing Taichi's voice, again. There was an amused glint in those
sky blue eyes, "Which part? About not liking me or waiting?"
And with that simple joke, all felt better. The writer suddenly found he was trying
to still himself from bounding forward to give the blond a large and unnecessarily tight
hug. What a weird impulse to receive. He ignored it, his brain still half-fogged without
sleep.
When he came out of his thoughts, Yamato was gone, and the door was slowly
swinging shut.
*****
Two hours later found Taichi back in his dorm with the stereo on top volume, and
disturbing the neighbours who were trying to study or sleep [3]. He leaned back in his
bed, heaving his largest sigh yet and closing his eyes lightly. The pressure of having to
complete that book was really starting to wear on him, and he found himself feeling all
the more tired by the moment.
As he shut his eyes softly, he saw him, again. Ishida Yamato and those blue eyes,
watching him so closely, analysing him for whatever reasons his disturbed mind had. Yet,
he couldn't help but be interested in the musician more and more with each passing
thought. Though, one thing was sure about the blue-eyed stranger. There was something
not quite right about him.
Maybe that was when the inspiration finally came to his conscious mind.
'He would make an excellent character in my story...' His mind ran through a
flurry of ideas, about how he would add in the new character Matt to his story. He
realised it wasn't going to be an easy task. He hardly knew the blond, and from what time
he had spent talking to him today, the musician was so insanely eccentric that it would be
very difficult to construct a character around him. Though, Yagami Taichi was never one
to back down from a challenge.
As he moved to stand and approach his computer for more writing, he found that
he couldn't move at all. That same voice that he had heard only an hour ago was now
drifting softly through his room, increasing in speed and volume only in time of the
single guitar played in accompaniment. It was a new song out by The Wolves, and
suddenly, he found himself straining to focus on every note emitted by that beautiful
voice. Ishida Yamato, no matter how strange in person, did have a beautiful voice...
"Grey days find me
Thinking about you
And how you wonder
Who I am
Yet, at our respected positions
I'm in no place to say
That what I feel for you
Strays another way
So, I'm sorry
I can't do this
So sorry
That I can't do this
And the days
Only get darker from here
And I hear how you talk
And what you ask
And how you want to know
Who I am
Each moment sees me
As someone else
And I've made you see me
As someone else
So, I'm sorry
I can't do this
So sorry
That I can't do this
And the story
Only goes deeper from here
But you won't know
You can't know
I'll never show you
Who I am..."
Of course Taichi didn't hear the song in it's entirety. As far as his weary mind was
concerned, the character 'Matt' could wait until tomorrow. At the moment, he would
much rather fall asleep thinking of Yamato.
So, he did.
*****
To Be Continued...
*****
Notes--
[1] I wasn't sure whether Mimi had brown eyes or red eyes. They kind of look red to me, but when I think about red eyes and pink hair I think of Chibi Usa from BSSM... And that freaks me out. _ So, her eyes are brown now.
[2] "The Wolves" is a band name that I know has been used before, by many separate persons, so please don't be angry with me if you happen to be using it. I know the original name was "The Teenage Wolves" or something to that liking, but you're hardly a teenager anymore when you get to your college-aged years, ne? I probably should've taken the time to think of something original...
[3] For some reason, this reminds me of that film "Matchmaker" when Sean is 'rubbing' the dog with his foot, and the dog keeps making this loud banging sound. And the girl goes to see what's making the sound (because it sounds almost exactly like 'something else') and... Oi. I guess you would just need to watch the film. _ It was all just -really wrong-.
[*] Reviews inspire me to write-- quicker and better. If you would like to see this continued, I urge you to send me your compliments, complaints, death threats, and marriage proposals by reviewing. If you don't want to see this continued, I'm probably going to continue it just to spite you. ^_^