Beyond My Love
By Kay
::sweatdrops:: Well... I don't own Digimon. Or Ken. Or Daisuke. Or... anyone.
Yes. I'm deprived.
A/N: Kensuuuke! Kinda off.... saaad...
I am dedicating this!!! ::waves hands happily:: To the best Motomiya I know of! Kashiko, this one's for you 'cause of all your help your links and translations have been to me. And you're a great friend. So, whether this sucks or you like it, it's hours spent for you, girl! ^_^ Thank you SOOO much, Motomiya-chan! And that picture you drew of Daisuke and Ken in cameofladge... one of the best things I ever saw. ^_^ They're so CUTE!
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The candle's starting to burn out.
Not just the thick, heavenly white candle sitting on my bedside table, glowing softly like a faded ember in the darkened bedroom, down to it's last. It provides what little light I require to remain somewhat sane and coherent in this endless span of waiting. The wax is starting to drip over the worn wood surface, and some part of me is facinated by the way it cools so quickly. Perhaps the room is colder than I thought.
I wasn't talking about that candle, anyway. Darkness is nothing new to my eyes.
I'm the candle burning out.
They insisted I have a candle in here at least, you know. My "guardians". I suppose once their original "child" was gone, they decided I was the one left over to take in under their infinate wings. I'm not bitter about it. In fact, I feel almost close to relieved that someone cared enough to notice my almost hidden pain. The pain that's eating me, slowly and carefully, taking my breaths to the point of collapsing and creating feelings of despair I could never name.
They try to take so much of it away. I try in return to let them give me what little light I could accept in silence.
Now the candle's dying- the flame's starting to flicker madly in the still air of the room, and the wax is spilling into puddles on the table. Long streaking teardrops on the oak.
They took me in. My guardians who take such good care of me, and I can't even get out of this miserable bed to thank them for it. My weak whispers are often the only things they have in blessing for their troubles. I really do want to thank them, to let myself cry in front of them and be healed like they say I can be. But I can't.
Maybe I don't want to heal. Because the pain reminds me there's life still in me.
The only window in the room is a bare one, covered only with this thin sheet of pale tan shade that is wound down at the bottom of the chipped painted sill. The dirty string's tied tightly onto a rusted hook just below that, so that it won't make the mistake of flying up and flooding the room with poisen.
Sunlight would melt my thin figure, I'm sure.
Funny. The boy I loved used to live for it.
The boy I loved... what a heartbreaking thought that it's past tense. I sighed heavily and folded my hands gently over the bedcovers in despair. Thinking about the one who changed my life into a bright place seems to take up every inkling of my time, memories always pouring through my head like the tears that follow in my eyes.
Yeah. I cry a lot.
The boy I loved... oh, how can I tell you the things that run through my mind when I whisper those words? We met, we fought, he conquered me. Took my breath and heart away with a glance of his eyes, and two words from his mouth sealed the fated deal. He always had beautiful eyes, sometimes the kind you didn't notice until shown pointedly. Deep chocolate brown that used to either be laughing with you, or filled with compassion. He was a compassionate person. So many would disagree, but for those who knew this boy well, they would always know exactly what I was talking about.
He was forgiving. Forgiving and the best friend you would have. Loyal. So very devoted to what he would promise to you. He had to be compassionate, or he would have hated half the world for what they did to people like him. People... they treated him wrong in his life, and he understood it. But he never- never- judged them! Never!
The boy I loved had heart, soul, something I can't explain or readily give to anyone. I've never been a giver like that. I take, I take, because I need and need even more to sustain myself. And because I did that, I learned to hate where he learned to love life. He embraced it... like a butterfly embracing the wind. Colored and glowing, flying as light as possible, dancing on things it never could understand but didn't need to.
I hated. That was my dance. But he- like some turbulent wind gust, pulled me off my course, and tucked me into a warm pocket of safety. I used to think of him as the one who really saved me, in his little smiles and jokes. Darkness is no match for someone who lives for seeing the sunlight. I'm not saying he was the light- he wasn't. He had his own shadows. But he lived to cast them off like a second skin and embrace every day. That was my love.
Yes...
The boy I loved... he didn't hate. Daisuke. He didn't hate.
Daisuke was a forgiver.
Yes, that was his name. It was a beautiful name. Was being the key word here. He doesn't own it anymore, only the cold gray tombstone his family bought to put over his grave. Am I angry? Yes. Death has never made me feel good in any way. Much less his.
I hate Death. Death took away my brother. It took away my best friend and partner, my Digimon, for a short while, and yet though it was short it made me feel enough pain to kill me.
Death took away my angel. My Daisuke.
The pain was complete at that.
Daisuke. What else can I tell you about him? I think him over every single night, wishing harder than anything before that he was beside me right then. But it's hard to describe the emotions that still sting.
He liked to play soccer. A worthy advesary, I called him- I should have called him a worthy friend. Far more worthier than I. He was the beautiful one, the boy no one realized had the answer to life in his lips. The answer to my life, at least, and maybe to others who would have loved him in time.
So, yes, he was far more than worthy.
He pretended to love Hikari. An act, nothing more than that, because the second I joined their team he was running over to me, eyes shining, and he grabbed my hand. Pressed it gently and beamed. His cinnamon burgandy spiked hair framing his sweet, tanned face.
I think he tried to love Hikari because he thought he couldn't have me. Or perhaps I'm flattering myself.
Most likely.
Two weeks later we found ourselves calling each other enthusiastically. Or, at least he would, and I would listen, the barest, most softest of smiles gracing my face. I never told him how I would light up with excitement and whirl my head around when the telephone would ring in the kitchen, and then dive for the phone cradle before my mother could even pause in her cooking.
I should have told him... it was the very least he deserved. And deserved it he did, and more. He should have had the world at his fingertips, but the world pushed him away most of the time in amusement. So when he ran to me, tears streaming down his face, I knew yet another had refused him acknowledgement of his own humanity.
That was alright. I was perfectly content to hold him tightly in the shadows.
Daisuke- ah, now he was the passionate one. He had a fire that wouldn't burn out with the greatest of dousers. It was a fire that facinated me, just like the flickering flame on the candle by my bedside. A steady flame, that promise life, hope. Love.
Sweet and addictive love. Desire to someday be able to wake up from my nightmares and look into his peaceful, gorgeous eyes beside me as he propped up on the pillow and asked me in concern what was wrong. It was a dream he would have gladly answered- he told me so once himself when I asked. So in return for that precious gift, I would dote on him, protect him from the cruel world with my own strength.
So why am I not strong now? Why am I sobbing bitterly in a darkened, ruined bedroom I can't take care of?
Because his lovely wonder of life kept me strong.
Dai-san... I need you to keep me strong. I weep into my sheets again, for what must have been the thousanth time this day. It's become a permanent hobby, I'm afraid. My sheets will never be the same again, or, at least not until one of my "guardians" comes and cleans them for me. If I was staying at home, my mother would have. But I'm not home.
After Daisuke's... departure... I left my house and returned to my old, abandoned fortress in the Digital World. The real world became a place I couldn't cope with- an endless, confusing whirl of press and shove. The others tried to help me, despite their own grief, because they understood I was the one who was close to Daisuke. They had seen us together more than once, me draping my arms around Daisuke's waist and hugging him tightly. Daisuke waving estatically after school and brushing my lips with the faintest of kisses to show how much he missed me. We had always been free with our affection, not caring what the hell anyone else thought of us, not even the media.
The media once scared Daisuke to the point where he was shy in front of anyone, but he quickly grew accustomed to being, "The Boy Genius's Boyfriend." I can't say I didn't enjoy watching him blush furiously at some of the questions he was asked before. And I can't say he didn't enjoy giving me sly looks as he would answer their questions.
'Mr. Motomiya, please tell us, what's dating the smartest boy in Japan feel like?!"
A sly, mischievious grin shot my way. 'Dating him? Ken-chan? Well... how would you think it'd feel? I mean, I know no other guy in the world who has as cute a-'
'Dai-san! I'm sorry, sir, he's just tired...' Blush, blush.
'Nah, I'm wide awake. Who wants to hear about the first time he called Pizza Hut? See, first he...'
So... the voices are still fresh in my head. I can still hear the laughter, but mine was added, a loud, delighted laugh that this guy I loved could appease everyone with a story before requesting leave. Before, facing everyone was a pain. With Daisuke's bright smile, it became close to a walk in the park, giving me a humorous event to look forward to.
'Mr. Ichijouji!? Do you believe dating Motomiya, Daisuke has affected your image at all?'
A roll of eyes from my love. 'Mr. Reporter Dude... of course I affected his image!'
'How so?'
'He's not wearing gray today! I told him to wear his black turtleneck, see?'
And yet again, he was the one who made *me* laugh.
My angel... he was made for laughing. The brilliance of Japan, of the entire universe, in my eyes. And he knew I loved him, knew it to the point where we hardly had to say it to understand it, even though we kept the affectionate greeting.
'Aishiteru, my amai.'
I loved him. It was a young, almost reckless love, but it was love- the true and forever kind most people spend their lives waiting for and never get. My life was complete with him wrapped up in my arms.
But now my arms that held the world are empty. Damn it, and I know I'm no angel. Will I ever see him again, if there's such a thing as an afterlife? I'm not sure anymore. I'm just not sure.
A knock at the door brings my dark, grieving violet eyes fluttering open painfully. The door opens slightly, and a gentle, hesitant voice calls through the crack.
"Ken?"
I close my eyes, biting my lip and calling out in a broken tone, "G-good evening, Taichi." The sound of my own voice makes me wince, as it's cracked and deformed with misuse. They visit me almost every day, but I rarely have the energy to talk. Sometimes, I swear I'm the sick one, the one who's dying, and not the love of my life. Who is already gone.
But I was never one to accept Death.
The door pushed open, groaning with strain almost as loudly as my voice projected, and Taichi Yagami pushed his head through hesitantly. The chestnut haired boy hadn't seen me for the last two days, as Yamato came the day before yesterday, and no one last night.
His deep brown eyes survey me regretfully as he enters. "You look horrible, Ken. Did you eat the food Yamato brought?"
"No." It's no use lying, because he can see the sack on the floor just as well as me. As if they expect me to use it. Most of the time, I'm ashamed to say they have to stay with me to make sure I eat. It'd be over so much faster if these two didn't depend on me to live- but they do.
Sometimes I hate them for it. Sometimes it makes me cry, overwhelmed by their caring for me.
"You need to eat, then. I brought Chinese- hope you like sweet n' sour chicken." He set the takeout food bag on the bedside table, narrowing his eyes in the poor light and sighing.
"Can I put on a light?"
"No."
Despite my weak but firmly spoken protest, the older Digidestined does it anyway, and the room is awash in a yellow, faint glare. The lighting in my once majestic and perfect kingdom has suffered, and nothing works quite as well. It's to my advantage, since even the little glow makes me bury my hot face in the pillows of the bed.
"Don't do that." Taichi tugs at my sleeve, insistant. "You have to eat, now. C'mon... sit up..." When I do nothing to comply with him, he sighs and turns me over forcefully. I refuse to avoid his eyes the entire process, knowing the speech that's coming.
"You have to stop this, Ken! It's not right, staying up here all alone, day after day. We're all worried about you. Heck, even Cody's thinking about dragging you back home where you belong. Where you can be taken care of and stuff." He looks at me in anguish, pain slipping through his brave front. Daisuke's death had worn him down. "You- you can't mourn and fade away like this forever..."
I don't grace him with an answer, feeling immensely guilty as I do. I don't like being cold to them, especially Tai, who looks so much like my fallen angel, but I have to. I can't go back, and I can't give in to weaknesses like such that will make me wistful for my home. Home... home means facing everyone. Facing the long, hard days of nothing that accompany my future.
Days without Daisuke are not worth living.
Taichi is still talking to my slight remourse, his words slipping through my hearing every so often like silk gliding through water.
"You need to heal. Just let us help you- you know me and Yama hate coming here. It's like we're *helping* you get yourself sick. But we're doing it because we care about what happens to you, whether you do or not."
Yes, they care. I sigh and acknowledge this with facination. They do seem to care, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I would never admit my strange wistfullness for their visits. But only them- I could never face more than them at the moment. I'm still fragile, bewildered and depressed over the death that tore half my soul away. Even Wormmon had to be taken away from me, such was his will to help me and his devestation at failing. He'd cried and pleaded with his "Ken-chan" to wake up, to get up and see the sun, to go home to his mama. But I couldn't do it, and he couldn't stand seeing me like this, my loyal friend.
I had Miyako take him for a bit. Just until I get my bearings.
Or die from trying.
"So, please, I'm begging you- I know you still hurt and miss Daisuke. But you have to go home, where people can help you stop that hurting a little," Taichi begged, his voice growing louder and shattering my hazy thoughts. "Being with people helped the rest of us. So why won't you let yourself be helped? Why are you being difficult and holding up here like you want a death sentance?!"
A loud silence of expectation.
"Taichi... I like sweet and sour chicken," I whisper.
He falls silent, gazes at me, and for a second he looks like he's about to cry. "I-I guess I'm glad. Now... eat." Unable to say anything, he pushes the small pop Chinese box to me and slumps in the chair he sat in. His eyes close wearily, as they usually end up doing after a passionate speech that usually is to me. In this aspect, and many more, he is so much Daisuke's mentor.
Unsteadily working at using my hands to grip the chopstix tightly in a hold that wouldn't drop them, I numbly ate what he brought me. I kept my eyes off the food the entire time, and on Taichi, who looked back after a minute and smiled weakly when he saw me chewing.
"Ah, the boy eats," he quipped. "Keep it up, though, you might get thinner than Yamato. If you aren't already."
"I amen't."
"Yeah, well, if you keep it up..." He gestured, putting his hands close together until there was an inch of space between them. "Ya know?"
I smiled faintly. "Yes, I see."
I did see. And I was sure I was either thin as Yamato by now, or getting thinner. I was turning into a skinny thing, all bones and flesh, no real substance. Daisuke would have still loved me, but he wouldn't be calling me "airashii" any time soon. I was no where near lovely with my limp blue hair, tied back tightly in a ponytail except for the escaping wisps beside my face. And I was sure my face was swollen red, streaked with tears, and dead eyes were the things providing me with sight. But I've never really noticed my looks before.
Daisuke used to call me pretty. I suppose I was, because I'd heard it before. I would always retaliate, though, with the truth.
'Ken, you're a pretty person, you know that?'
'And you're a beautiful boy.'
It was his turn to blush.
Daisuke was... very beautiful. Sometimes handsome, but most occassions just very beautiful. He had that look about him when he was feeling vunerable or pensive, that made me want to laugh and brush his hair back from his face and kiss him. Sunsets- he always put them to shame. I remember the first time he asked me to join the team, beside the reflective waters below. The sunset made him glow slightly, turning his hair to fire and his eyes the most magnificent colour.
I hated to walk away from him then...
"I brought you a new candle."
I blinked and straightened, jerked out of my thoughts with a quiet voice. I looked over, startled, as Taichi laid another candle on the bedside table. Powder blue this time, a clear crystaline quality to it that seemed to match that of the ocean.
"You had fun candle shopping," I observed with amusement and pain at the same time. Young love- I was happy for Tai, but desperate at the fact I would never get to enjoy the same pleasure again.
"What makes you say that?" he asked, confused and surprised.
"It's the colour of Yamato's eyes," I pointed out. "Must have taken forever to find it. I'll make sure he sees it the next day he comes, hai?"
Taichi blushed, a frighteningly accurate image of Daisuke doing the same thing coming to my mind. It was no secret the two had looked alike, what with Daisuke having Taichi as an idol. And the loud, wild hair matched each other's personalities perfectly. It was seeing Taichi that made my heart ache, more so than Yamato, who at least bore no physical resemblance to Daisuke. You could see the similarities in their attitude and expressions.
Taichi and Yamato... how they put up with me, I'll never understand. Daisuke had slowly become something of a model of their son in their own eyes, as time progressed. I don't think either of them expected it, but they had begun to treat him with a care that was little shown by either of them except to each other. Yamato loved to give advice, and Taichi loved to brighten Dai-kun's day. It was an unspoken agreement- Daisuke would be the only son they could ever have in some twisted way, and as Daisuke himself had a father who rarely paid him attention, they decided it would become their job.
They had loved Daisuke as much as I had in some way. He'd been their prodegy. Once Takeru referred to him as, "Onii-chan's second little brother", but I never saw that as the case. I don't think Takeru saw it like that either, but was searching for some explanation. Yamato always loved Takeru more than anything in the world. It was just... both he and Taichi leaped at the chance to guide Daisuke into a world they understood much better. To teach him the ways that so many had refused him.
In Taichi's case, the bonding was even stronger. Taichi started to think of Daisuke as someone he would always offer a hand to, someone he could protect. If Daisuke was upset, and I wasn't available, the Yagami household was the first he ran to.
Daisuke had no one except me, Taichi, and Yamato as family. I'm happy to say I think we did a pretty good job of being it in his short life.
After he died... Taichi and Yamato. They were crushed, devestated, driven with despair. It was as though their own blood had died. Unlike me, however, they had a place of shelter to go to. They found comfort and release in each other's arms.
Sigh. Young love. How I miss it.
"Hey, listen, I'm going to go Daisuke's house tomorrow night," Taichi said quietly, watching me to see my reaction. When he recieved none, he continued in the same soft tone.
"His parents offered his things to anyone who wanted a memory keepsake... Yamato and I are the last ones to go. We wanted to know if- if you wanted anything..."
My breath caught in my tightened throat. Ah, the chance to have something that still clung to the essence of my angel! All I had so far was memories, and although they are the most sacred of things, it would bring me comfort to be able to touch something that he once had.
"Yes," I answered, decision made without thinking. "Please... anything you can find."
Taichi nodded, smiling slightly and appearing a bit more hopeful now that I actually did something animated and made some decision on my own. "Gotcha."
We talked, me haltingly, him overwhelming me with his informational words. He told me things about the outside world, how my mother missed me, and was desperate to find me even though Taichi had obeyed my request to tell her I was safe and out of harms way. He told me how the rest of the team was doing, and went on to meaningless things like the newest songs out. With the loudest of blushes, he told me how Yamato had dedicated his new love song to him.
"It's great, it's just... I didn't expect it!"
"It sounds very romantic. How does it go?"
Taichi shot me a look. "You don't want me to sing."
"Why not?" I inquired, puzzled.
"I have a voice that would shatter a window."
"Well, I never said you had to sing it. Just tell me what it says," I pointed out dryly. He made a face at me and grinned.
"Fine. It goes like this." He paused, considering. "You are the dream I've waited forever to live... a thousand years are never enough to love you, baby... and you are my strength, and I am your love."
"That's all?"
"All I can remember."
I raised an eyebrow in comment, and he smiled softly and explained, "I was crying to hard to figure out the rest."
"Ah."
"Besides... he's promised a private solo just for me tonight..."
Again, more understanding and with a bit of laughter- "Ah."
We talked a bit more, and he left. I ignored the pain of sorrow as the door closed behind him. I knew he couldn't stay for to long before someone would miss him in the real world- I couldn't be selfish. And yet I wished they would stay longer.
It'd become a ritual every time they leave that they turn and ask me if I'd like to come with them. I've always said no. Or ignored them.
There was nothing out there to see if Daisuke couldn't see it with me.
Daisuke... my courageous, fiery angel. I miss you.
Aishiteru. Aishiteru, my amai.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day, Yamato came with a small bundle in his arms, wrapped in dark cloth and clutched to his chest protectively. He looked at me, blonde hair seeming overly bright in the dreary atmosphere. Two striking blue eyes held my gaze until he nodded without a word.
Yamato Ishida has always been the more understanding of the two guardians, being in my predicament once himself when he was overcome with depression and loss of Tai. Thankfully it didn't last long- I wouldn't wish it on anyone. But he knew enough that I didn't need a smile or hello to know I was cared for.
"Me and Taichi-kun found some things at Daisuke's house," he finally said after my ritual of forced eating was done. I had been looking at the bundle with curiousity for some time, and now I dropped my fork with a clang on the stone floor. Not bothering to pick it up, I stared at it now.
"We thought you wanted some of his stuff." Yamato reached down gracefully and swept up the bag. I've always admired that about him- like me, he had a natural, smooth movement that seemed to fit into his personality like a snake's skin did. Just as the bright, seemingly sensual colours brought facination, anything could hide it.
"What did you find?" I asked, recalling I was one of the last to get anything most likely. I didn't care. Anything that was his was worth keeping.
"Well, Tai got you some stuff..." He glanced at me, deep blue eyes aloof but not without a certain warmth to them that gave him the crest of Friendship. "Pictures, little trinkets that were left over." He dumped a small pile of coloured photoes, a keychain or two, and a heavily bound leather book with dark casing.
I carefully placed the photos right side up after setting aside the key chains I didn't recognize. I knew these pictures- they were from Hikari's camara the day the entire team went to the beach to have a vacation of sorts. There was Iori, relentlessly building his empire of sand castles with Upamon and Chibimon. The empire hardly got off the ground thanks to the energetic blue ball of fur that kept bouncing on the tops.
Miyako and Poromon were lying strethed out on a beach towel, calmly careening their necks to the sun. Her ears were covered with headphones. The next picture revealed Takeru and Hikari waving, clutching each other's hands as they smiled radiantly. And the next had Takeru diving for a beach ball, yelling in panic, with Miyako laughing in the background from her spot on the striped towel.
There were a few more, all happy scenes of contentment. Then I flipped the next one, and my heart stopped with a painful clatter.
Daisuke...
It was him, just as I remembered every day, looking at the camera with a large grin that made his entire face light up like a lighthouse beacon. Optimistic brown eyes seemed to laugh, dancing with life, and he was teasing the camera shooter. The day had enough wind to make his hair blow gently, the long stands of red beside his face lifting. Just as I recalled, the very same stance he always had, feet apart, dark hands behind his head with elbows up, incredibally confident and brilliant.
My eyes were filling with tears without me knowing it.
Yamato's gentle voice caught my hearing, and I felt him place a hand on my shoulder as he looked at the picture. He was quiet, a certain pain making his face darken briefly.
"He was so happy."
I nodded tearfully. "He was, wasn't he?"
That was it, those words and understanding we seemed to share. And I turned the picture over, tearing my facinated gaze away before I was stuck forever looking at my love.
The next picture was harder. I was in it, uncertain, staring at the camera, while Daisuke was making a face behind my shoulder. I hadn't known it at the time, but his hands were making hilaroius gestures on the other side of me while I was completely focused on the fact that someone was taking my picture and I didn't know why.
The next, after I finally placed the other away after what felt like hours, was the hardest of all. It was the evening, hues of golden red spraying across the sky in waves. I was smiling softly, my eyes glowing with pleasure, wrapping my arms around a lovely redhead. Daisuke was gazing up at me with a look that said love all over it, reaching up to touch my face with compassion.
I think I started to sob then, because the next thing I know, the pictures are on the bedside table and Yama-chan is letting me cry into his shoulder. His hand's heavy on my back, and from the way his head is bowed, I can see his grief plainly.
We had missed out on so much when Daisuke was taken away from us. I missed a boyfriend, a love, a future mate. Yamato had missed a chance to mold someone, a son of twisted sorts, the boy he proudly called his successor.
After an hour of it, Yamato sighed. "I brought something else for you. But I don't know if you can take it."
Wiping my eyes weakly, I looked up at him with a pleading expression. I had to know what it was at the very least, and I would have it no other way but to get what he was hiding.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll give it to you." He sighed again, and reached with a long arm into the bag which was still slightly large. He pulled out something that was a faded blue color, worn with time. Cloth.
I recognized it immeadiatly and gave a cry of amazement.
"Oh, Yamato!"
"Yeah, I thought you might like it," he whispered with the barest flicker of smiles crossing his face.
"Like it? I- oh god..." I took it from him carefully but hurriedly, like a mother takes a child, and as soon as I felt the smooth fabric in my hands I started to smile in delight. I took my fingers and ran it over the familiar feel of demin.
When Daisuke and I had our second anniversary, we went walking through the shops downtown to look for something he liked. It had become a tradition that I would take him looking for his present, since it was so much easier and funner to shop together than apart. And then he would take me for mine.
While he was perusing the sport shops, I was looking at book stores for the present I would most likely have. I chose a book of Shakespear I'd wanted for a long time, knowing it wasn't costly, and it was something I wanted. I immeadiatly went to seek out my missing boyfriend, who'd disappeared next door into the local soccer store.
I couldn't find him there, so I stood outside, and then he came running up to me, eyes shining.
'Ken-chan! I found what I want!'
'What is it?'
He laughed, looking absolutely delighted with me. 'It's the best- just turn around and close your eyes!'
'What?'
'Turn around and close your eyes!'
I had no idea what he was talking about, or what his big surprise was, but I did as he commanded in bemusement. It was followed by the shuffling of a bag and then nothing.
'You can turn around now...'
Daisuke was a very odd person sometimes, although I loved him. He fancied the strangest things, and what he chose as a gift surprised me more than almost anything he'd done.
His usual trendish sport jacket had been tossed aside like a ragged doll, favoring a new demin one that looked as though it hadn't seen daylight for years. The fabric, somehow worn already and having a faded deep blue color that had lightened, seemed to tighten in on his skin in some places, and be oversized in others. The collar was folded down, the seams durable. The sleeves were obviously to long, and after a moment of thought he rolled them up to his elbows and struck a pose.
'Whaddya think?'
'I... where did you get that thing?'
'The thrift shop! Isn't it the coolest?'
I would have thought him insane if I hadn't seen him with it on, seen with my own two eyes. It did seem to have his name written all over it. The jacket fit him perfectly, as though it were made for him, despite it's worn quality, it gave it a feel. Daisuke looked... just so perfect.
After a bit of time getting used to him in it, I found it the highlight of our relationship to snake my arms around his waist under the jacket and press him to me. Or to hold him around the shoulders. Kiss his neck when he wasn't looking. He found it hilarious that I grew obsessed with seeing him in that jacket.
'What is it with this jacket and you?'
'Well, you look sexy in it.' I flashed a devlish smile at him.
Now... I held the fabric in my hands and new tears splashed on it. It still felt like Daisuke... it still looked like I could throw it on a chair and he would pick it up any time. After I brought it to my face, rubbing it against me, I realized with more crying that it still carried his scent. It was still full of my love, still a part of him.
I looked at Yamato, my teary eyes saying all the thanks I could ever say.
He smiled sadly and came to sit beside me.
I fingered the seams, the wrist buttons, the frayed collar. I couldn't seem to stop hugging it to me. It was the most precious thing suddenly, because it was still full of him. Full of his life. It reminded me what it was like to be able to come home and surprise him with a passionate kiss from behind.
It was all I had wanted, and what I couldn't have anymore.
I sighed softly at that, sorrowful at the thought, and brushed the pockets.
And stopped.
"What is it?" Yamato asked, seeing the startled look on my features. I shook my head wordlessly, turning the coat and sticking on hand deep into the pocket. I could feel it- yes, it was there. A single scrap of paper. Most likely a bubble gum wrapper, or some small note. I brought it out in my curiousity and anxiousness to have yet another thing that may mean something to me.
I unfolded the simple notebook paper, and read down. Staring hard at it when I finished.
"What is it?" Yamato demanded in confusion.
"It's... a poem," I replied numbly in amazement. "He... he wrote a poem."
"He what?"
I understood his confusion. As far as I had understood, Daisuke had never had any interest in poetry. He loved to read certain books- his room had been filled with bookshelves- but he'd never seemed to write anything. And something... so very deep.
So obviously to me.
My eyes filled with tears, and Yamato took it from me as I bured my head in my hands and sobbed. He put a hand on my shoulder absently, and looked at it, eyes widening.
"He- he did write a poem," he echoed in shock. His own eyes filled with shining tears that slipped down his face as he read quietly:
"My love, we sit like broken shards of glass
Then you touched my lips
And there I fell into a world of sunlight
There I found your arms.
Such is a timeless age that we two
Would pour our sweet moments into one
For I would miss nothing
And you could take all I gave.
These are my lifetimes, a million
Chances to shine for only your grace
And here we are frozen
My love, you and I.
Should I ever fall from your stars
I would fear not for you would catch me
We share a bond deeper than rules
Somewhere beyond love and despair.
Beyond love I would find you
Should I ever lose the sun-
Live for me, so strong are we
We're past dying for love."
Somewhere half way into it, Yamato's voice cracked with amazement and anguish, and he had to give up and talk in hoarse whipsers. I understood how he felt. I would never have the strength to read it out loud, even to myself.
Oh Daisuke... my angel...
My tears fell faster than ever, but I took the paper back almost savagely and stared blurridly at the words. Here was my precious object, the one thing that was mine and Daisuke's that no one could take away. His words to me. Words he never had the time to give.
But... were they true? Were we really so in love that Death had no power over us?
"He really had faith in you," Yamato whispered, tears brimming in his eyes still like small glass drops that shimmered in the candlelight. "In your love. And he knew... he knew, didn't he? He knew... he was sick..."
My eyes closed, and I laid back against the pillow in exhaustion, feeling my soul drain. "Yes... yes, he did."
It was a quick death. A rare disease that created a small fault in the brain that made the matter implode suddenly without warning. One second, he was smiling funny, then his eyes went blank and he fell.
Somehow... he must have known. The urgent kisses, the way he had started to demand my time.
My angel... oh god...
"Damn," Yamato said. "Oh god damn."
I gasped for air, heaving my chest up and down, feeling as though I'll be having a heart attack and joining him soon. The words of the poem seemed to bore into my mind.
Daisuke knew he didn't have enough time. And he wanted to tell me this, give me hope. How could I have hope without my Courage?
And yet...
My eyes caught blurred words.
'Beyond love I would find you
Should I ever lose the sun-
Live for me, so strong are we
We're past dying for love.'
Were we? There was life out there... Daisuke had taught me that. And I wanted to live, somewhere deep down with that wistfullness every time Taichi and Yamato left, deeper still with the urgent cry commanding my mother. I loved Daisuke.
But would laying here, half dead and half alive, do anything?
Taking deep breaths, for the first time I considered a life without him. Without waking up to his face every morning like he promised. Without my surprises, his adoration, his spirit and warmth mixing with my amused mysterious nature. I would walk every day on the roads we have taken together, but there wouldn't be anyone waving and coming up to meet me. I couldn't love someone after I loved Daisuke.
It was not possible.
And yet... there was the attraction. The will that if I did this, made it through life's grueling torture, maybe it would end with my love. That someday some car will accidently hit me, or I'll die of old age in my bed, and the first eyes I'll see will be chocolate brown ones that are calling for me.
I would have killed myself by now if it hadn't been for Wormmon, my parents, and the others. Like it or not, I had people depending on me. And it was either I lived in some state of slight happiness, or I lived in misery in a dark tower with little food and almost no company.
"Ken? Are you okay?"
I glanced at Yamato, frightened. "Yama-kun... do you think he's right? Is our love- our bond- stronger than death?"
Yamato stared at me. Slowly, a sad haunting smile came over his face. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so."
"I love him."
"He loved- and loves- you."
My head bowed, dark blue hair falling over my face as I cried. And looked up again, determined this time. Unsteadily, my limbs trembling with grief, strain, and resistance, I sat up straight. Yamato jumped in his chair.
"Whoa, let me help you-"
"No. I have to do this myself," I told him shakily. "I have to."
I stood up, swaying uncontrollably, and Yamato rose a hand to make me stop. With the pressure of his arm on my back, supporting me, I focused my eyes on the window.
I love Daisuke. I will always love him. Longer than death, longer than life.
I had no idea what I was doing- later I might regret it, or I might realize it was the best choice of my life. But if Daisuke wished something so, it was my will to make it happen. That was always the way it worked.
We had a bond. Beyond hate, beyond passion and lust. It was beyond friendship and trust, guidence and faith.
Beyond love and death and life.
With this thought, tears still staining my eyes like I knew they still would for a long time, I took my first step in proving my faith in Daisuke's belief we were always one.
I snapped open the window shade, and let the sunlight in. It flooded the tower room, making me gasp, half strangled, stumbling back into Yamato's arms as he yelped in shock. It was to bright to look at.
But I would try... for him... always for him.
If I couldn't be with Daisuke, I'd settle for the world he embraced so willingly. Our souls would connect in that way, if any way.
And when I left that world, he would be waiting for me beyond it.
And beyond that...
And beyond that...
And beyond that...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THE END: ^_^ Hate it? Love it? ... yeah, it's sappy... heh, whoops... midnight babble!
By Kay
::sweatdrops:: Well... I don't own Digimon. Or Ken. Or Daisuke. Or... anyone.
Yes. I'm deprived.
A/N: Kensuuuke! Kinda off.... saaad...
I am dedicating this!!! ::waves hands happily:: To the best Motomiya I know of! Kashiko, this one's for you 'cause of all your help your links and translations have been to me. And you're a great friend. So, whether this sucks or you like it, it's hours spent for you, girl! ^_^ Thank you SOOO much, Motomiya-chan! And that picture you drew of Daisuke and Ken in cameofladge... one of the best things I ever saw. ^_^ They're so CUTE!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The candle's starting to burn out.
Not just the thick, heavenly white candle sitting on my bedside table, glowing softly like a faded ember in the darkened bedroom, down to it's last. It provides what little light I require to remain somewhat sane and coherent in this endless span of waiting. The wax is starting to drip over the worn wood surface, and some part of me is facinated by the way it cools so quickly. Perhaps the room is colder than I thought.
I wasn't talking about that candle, anyway. Darkness is nothing new to my eyes.
I'm the candle burning out.
They insisted I have a candle in here at least, you know. My "guardians". I suppose once their original "child" was gone, they decided I was the one left over to take in under their infinate wings. I'm not bitter about it. In fact, I feel almost close to relieved that someone cared enough to notice my almost hidden pain. The pain that's eating me, slowly and carefully, taking my breaths to the point of collapsing and creating feelings of despair I could never name.
They try to take so much of it away. I try in return to let them give me what little light I could accept in silence.
Now the candle's dying- the flame's starting to flicker madly in the still air of the room, and the wax is spilling into puddles on the table. Long streaking teardrops on the oak.
They took me in. My guardians who take such good care of me, and I can't even get out of this miserable bed to thank them for it. My weak whispers are often the only things they have in blessing for their troubles. I really do want to thank them, to let myself cry in front of them and be healed like they say I can be. But I can't.
Maybe I don't want to heal. Because the pain reminds me there's life still in me.
The only window in the room is a bare one, covered only with this thin sheet of pale tan shade that is wound down at the bottom of the chipped painted sill. The dirty string's tied tightly onto a rusted hook just below that, so that it won't make the mistake of flying up and flooding the room with poisen.
Sunlight would melt my thin figure, I'm sure.
Funny. The boy I loved used to live for it.
The boy I loved... what a heartbreaking thought that it's past tense. I sighed heavily and folded my hands gently over the bedcovers in despair. Thinking about the one who changed my life into a bright place seems to take up every inkling of my time, memories always pouring through my head like the tears that follow in my eyes.
Yeah. I cry a lot.
The boy I loved... oh, how can I tell you the things that run through my mind when I whisper those words? We met, we fought, he conquered me. Took my breath and heart away with a glance of his eyes, and two words from his mouth sealed the fated deal. He always had beautiful eyes, sometimes the kind you didn't notice until shown pointedly. Deep chocolate brown that used to either be laughing with you, or filled with compassion. He was a compassionate person. So many would disagree, but for those who knew this boy well, they would always know exactly what I was talking about.
He was forgiving. Forgiving and the best friend you would have. Loyal. So very devoted to what he would promise to you. He had to be compassionate, or he would have hated half the world for what they did to people like him. People... they treated him wrong in his life, and he understood it. But he never- never- judged them! Never!
The boy I loved had heart, soul, something I can't explain or readily give to anyone. I've never been a giver like that. I take, I take, because I need and need even more to sustain myself. And because I did that, I learned to hate where he learned to love life. He embraced it... like a butterfly embracing the wind. Colored and glowing, flying as light as possible, dancing on things it never could understand but didn't need to.
I hated. That was my dance. But he- like some turbulent wind gust, pulled me off my course, and tucked me into a warm pocket of safety. I used to think of him as the one who really saved me, in his little smiles and jokes. Darkness is no match for someone who lives for seeing the sunlight. I'm not saying he was the light- he wasn't. He had his own shadows. But he lived to cast them off like a second skin and embrace every day. That was my love.
Yes...
The boy I loved... he didn't hate. Daisuke. He didn't hate.
Daisuke was a forgiver.
Yes, that was his name. It was a beautiful name. Was being the key word here. He doesn't own it anymore, only the cold gray tombstone his family bought to put over his grave. Am I angry? Yes. Death has never made me feel good in any way. Much less his.
I hate Death. Death took away my brother. It took away my best friend and partner, my Digimon, for a short while, and yet though it was short it made me feel enough pain to kill me.
Death took away my angel. My Daisuke.
The pain was complete at that.
Daisuke. What else can I tell you about him? I think him over every single night, wishing harder than anything before that he was beside me right then. But it's hard to describe the emotions that still sting.
He liked to play soccer. A worthy advesary, I called him- I should have called him a worthy friend. Far more worthier than I. He was the beautiful one, the boy no one realized had the answer to life in his lips. The answer to my life, at least, and maybe to others who would have loved him in time.
So, yes, he was far more than worthy.
He pretended to love Hikari. An act, nothing more than that, because the second I joined their team he was running over to me, eyes shining, and he grabbed my hand. Pressed it gently and beamed. His cinnamon burgandy spiked hair framing his sweet, tanned face.
I think he tried to love Hikari because he thought he couldn't have me. Or perhaps I'm flattering myself.
Most likely.
Two weeks later we found ourselves calling each other enthusiastically. Or, at least he would, and I would listen, the barest, most softest of smiles gracing my face. I never told him how I would light up with excitement and whirl my head around when the telephone would ring in the kitchen, and then dive for the phone cradle before my mother could even pause in her cooking.
I should have told him... it was the very least he deserved. And deserved it he did, and more. He should have had the world at his fingertips, but the world pushed him away most of the time in amusement. So when he ran to me, tears streaming down his face, I knew yet another had refused him acknowledgement of his own humanity.
That was alright. I was perfectly content to hold him tightly in the shadows.
Daisuke- ah, now he was the passionate one. He had a fire that wouldn't burn out with the greatest of dousers. It was a fire that facinated me, just like the flickering flame on the candle by my bedside. A steady flame, that promise life, hope. Love.
Sweet and addictive love. Desire to someday be able to wake up from my nightmares and look into his peaceful, gorgeous eyes beside me as he propped up on the pillow and asked me in concern what was wrong. It was a dream he would have gladly answered- he told me so once himself when I asked. So in return for that precious gift, I would dote on him, protect him from the cruel world with my own strength.
So why am I not strong now? Why am I sobbing bitterly in a darkened, ruined bedroom I can't take care of?
Because his lovely wonder of life kept me strong.
Dai-san... I need you to keep me strong. I weep into my sheets again, for what must have been the thousanth time this day. It's become a permanent hobby, I'm afraid. My sheets will never be the same again, or, at least not until one of my "guardians" comes and cleans them for me. If I was staying at home, my mother would have. But I'm not home.
After Daisuke's... departure... I left my house and returned to my old, abandoned fortress in the Digital World. The real world became a place I couldn't cope with- an endless, confusing whirl of press and shove. The others tried to help me, despite their own grief, because they understood I was the one who was close to Daisuke. They had seen us together more than once, me draping my arms around Daisuke's waist and hugging him tightly. Daisuke waving estatically after school and brushing my lips with the faintest of kisses to show how much he missed me. We had always been free with our affection, not caring what the hell anyone else thought of us, not even the media.
The media once scared Daisuke to the point where he was shy in front of anyone, but he quickly grew accustomed to being, "The Boy Genius's Boyfriend." I can't say I didn't enjoy watching him blush furiously at some of the questions he was asked before. And I can't say he didn't enjoy giving me sly looks as he would answer their questions.
'Mr. Motomiya, please tell us, what's dating the smartest boy in Japan feel like?!"
A sly, mischievious grin shot my way. 'Dating him? Ken-chan? Well... how would you think it'd feel? I mean, I know no other guy in the world who has as cute a-'
'Dai-san! I'm sorry, sir, he's just tired...' Blush, blush.
'Nah, I'm wide awake. Who wants to hear about the first time he called Pizza Hut? See, first he...'
So... the voices are still fresh in my head. I can still hear the laughter, but mine was added, a loud, delighted laugh that this guy I loved could appease everyone with a story before requesting leave. Before, facing everyone was a pain. With Daisuke's bright smile, it became close to a walk in the park, giving me a humorous event to look forward to.
'Mr. Ichijouji!? Do you believe dating Motomiya, Daisuke has affected your image at all?'
A roll of eyes from my love. 'Mr. Reporter Dude... of course I affected his image!'
'How so?'
'He's not wearing gray today! I told him to wear his black turtleneck, see?'
And yet again, he was the one who made *me* laugh.
My angel... he was made for laughing. The brilliance of Japan, of the entire universe, in my eyes. And he knew I loved him, knew it to the point where we hardly had to say it to understand it, even though we kept the affectionate greeting.
'Aishiteru, my amai.'
I loved him. It was a young, almost reckless love, but it was love- the true and forever kind most people spend their lives waiting for and never get. My life was complete with him wrapped up in my arms.
But now my arms that held the world are empty. Damn it, and I know I'm no angel. Will I ever see him again, if there's such a thing as an afterlife? I'm not sure anymore. I'm just not sure.
A knock at the door brings my dark, grieving violet eyes fluttering open painfully. The door opens slightly, and a gentle, hesitant voice calls through the crack.
"Ken?"
I close my eyes, biting my lip and calling out in a broken tone, "G-good evening, Taichi." The sound of my own voice makes me wince, as it's cracked and deformed with misuse. They visit me almost every day, but I rarely have the energy to talk. Sometimes, I swear I'm the sick one, the one who's dying, and not the love of my life. Who is already gone.
But I was never one to accept Death.
The door pushed open, groaning with strain almost as loudly as my voice projected, and Taichi Yagami pushed his head through hesitantly. The chestnut haired boy hadn't seen me for the last two days, as Yamato came the day before yesterday, and no one last night.
His deep brown eyes survey me regretfully as he enters. "You look horrible, Ken. Did you eat the food Yamato brought?"
"No." It's no use lying, because he can see the sack on the floor just as well as me. As if they expect me to use it. Most of the time, I'm ashamed to say they have to stay with me to make sure I eat. It'd be over so much faster if these two didn't depend on me to live- but they do.
Sometimes I hate them for it. Sometimes it makes me cry, overwhelmed by their caring for me.
"You need to eat, then. I brought Chinese- hope you like sweet n' sour chicken." He set the takeout food bag on the bedside table, narrowing his eyes in the poor light and sighing.
"Can I put on a light?"
"No."
Despite my weak but firmly spoken protest, the older Digidestined does it anyway, and the room is awash in a yellow, faint glare. The lighting in my once majestic and perfect kingdom has suffered, and nothing works quite as well. It's to my advantage, since even the little glow makes me bury my hot face in the pillows of the bed.
"Don't do that." Taichi tugs at my sleeve, insistant. "You have to eat, now. C'mon... sit up..." When I do nothing to comply with him, he sighs and turns me over forcefully. I refuse to avoid his eyes the entire process, knowing the speech that's coming.
"You have to stop this, Ken! It's not right, staying up here all alone, day after day. We're all worried about you. Heck, even Cody's thinking about dragging you back home where you belong. Where you can be taken care of and stuff." He looks at me in anguish, pain slipping through his brave front. Daisuke's death had worn him down. "You- you can't mourn and fade away like this forever..."
I don't grace him with an answer, feeling immensely guilty as I do. I don't like being cold to them, especially Tai, who looks so much like my fallen angel, but I have to. I can't go back, and I can't give in to weaknesses like such that will make me wistful for my home. Home... home means facing everyone. Facing the long, hard days of nothing that accompany my future.
Days without Daisuke are not worth living.
Taichi is still talking to my slight remourse, his words slipping through my hearing every so often like silk gliding through water.
"You need to heal. Just let us help you- you know me and Yama hate coming here. It's like we're *helping* you get yourself sick. But we're doing it because we care about what happens to you, whether you do or not."
Yes, they care. I sigh and acknowledge this with facination. They do seem to care, and I wouldn't have it any other way. I would never admit my strange wistfullness for their visits. But only them- I could never face more than them at the moment. I'm still fragile, bewildered and depressed over the death that tore half my soul away. Even Wormmon had to be taken away from me, such was his will to help me and his devestation at failing. He'd cried and pleaded with his "Ken-chan" to wake up, to get up and see the sun, to go home to his mama. But I couldn't do it, and he couldn't stand seeing me like this, my loyal friend.
I had Miyako take him for a bit. Just until I get my bearings.
Or die from trying.
"So, please, I'm begging you- I know you still hurt and miss Daisuke. But you have to go home, where people can help you stop that hurting a little," Taichi begged, his voice growing louder and shattering my hazy thoughts. "Being with people helped the rest of us. So why won't you let yourself be helped? Why are you being difficult and holding up here like you want a death sentance?!"
A loud silence of expectation.
"Taichi... I like sweet and sour chicken," I whisper.
He falls silent, gazes at me, and for a second he looks like he's about to cry. "I-I guess I'm glad. Now... eat." Unable to say anything, he pushes the small pop Chinese box to me and slumps in the chair he sat in. His eyes close wearily, as they usually end up doing after a passionate speech that usually is to me. In this aspect, and many more, he is so much Daisuke's mentor.
Unsteadily working at using my hands to grip the chopstix tightly in a hold that wouldn't drop them, I numbly ate what he brought me. I kept my eyes off the food the entire time, and on Taichi, who looked back after a minute and smiled weakly when he saw me chewing.
"Ah, the boy eats," he quipped. "Keep it up, though, you might get thinner than Yamato. If you aren't already."
"I amen't."
"Yeah, well, if you keep it up..." He gestured, putting his hands close together until there was an inch of space between them. "Ya know?"
I smiled faintly. "Yes, I see."
I did see. And I was sure I was either thin as Yamato by now, or getting thinner. I was turning into a skinny thing, all bones and flesh, no real substance. Daisuke would have still loved me, but he wouldn't be calling me "airashii" any time soon. I was no where near lovely with my limp blue hair, tied back tightly in a ponytail except for the escaping wisps beside my face. And I was sure my face was swollen red, streaked with tears, and dead eyes were the things providing me with sight. But I've never really noticed my looks before.
Daisuke used to call me pretty. I suppose I was, because I'd heard it before. I would always retaliate, though, with the truth.
'Ken, you're a pretty person, you know that?'
'And you're a beautiful boy.'
It was his turn to blush.
Daisuke was... very beautiful. Sometimes handsome, but most occassions just very beautiful. He had that look about him when he was feeling vunerable or pensive, that made me want to laugh and brush his hair back from his face and kiss him. Sunsets- he always put them to shame. I remember the first time he asked me to join the team, beside the reflective waters below. The sunset made him glow slightly, turning his hair to fire and his eyes the most magnificent colour.
I hated to walk away from him then...
"I brought you a new candle."
I blinked and straightened, jerked out of my thoughts with a quiet voice. I looked over, startled, as Taichi laid another candle on the bedside table. Powder blue this time, a clear crystaline quality to it that seemed to match that of the ocean.
"You had fun candle shopping," I observed with amusement and pain at the same time. Young love- I was happy for Tai, but desperate at the fact I would never get to enjoy the same pleasure again.
"What makes you say that?" he asked, confused and surprised.
"It's the colour of Yamato's eyes," I pointed out. "Must have taken forever to find it. I'll make sure he sees it the next day he comes, hai?"
Taichi blushed, a frighteningly accurate image of Daisuke doing the same thing coming to my mind. It was no secret the two had looked alike, what with Daisuke having Taichi as an idol. And the loud, wild hair matched each other's personalities perfectly. It was seeing Taichi that made my heart ache, more so than Yamato, who at least bore no physical resemblance to Daisuke. You could see the similarities in their attitude and expressions.
Taichi and Yamato... how they put up with me, I'll never understand. Daisuke had slowly become something of a model of their son in their own eyes, as time progressed. I don't think either of them expected it, but they had begun to treat him with a care that was little shown by either of them except to each other. Yamato loved to give advice, and Taichi loved to brighten Dai-kun's day. It was an unspoken agreement- Daisuke would be the only son they could ever have in some twisted way, and as Daisuke himself had a father who rarely paid him attention, they decided it would become their job.
They had loved Daisuke as much as I had in some way. He'd been their prodegy. Once Takeru referred to him as, "Onii-chan's second little brother", but I never saw that as the case. I don't think Takeru saw it like that either, but was searching for some explanation. Yamato always loved Takeru more than anything in the world. It was just... both he and Taichi leaped at the chance to guide Daisuke into a world they understood much better. To teach him the ways that so many had refused him.
In Taichi's case, the bonding was even stronger. Taichi started to think of Daisuke as someone he would always offer a hand to, someone he could protect. If Daisuke was upset, and I wasn't available, the Yagami household was the first he ran to.
Daisuke had no one except me, Taichi, and Yamato as family. I'm happy to say I think we did a pretty good job of being it in his short life.
After he died... Taichi and Yamato. They were crushed, devestated, driven with despair. It was as though their own blood had died. Unlike me, however, they had a place of shelter to go to. They found comfort and release in each other's arms.
Sigh. Young love. How I miss it.
"Hey, listen, I'm going to go Daisuke's house tomorrow night," Taichi said quietly, watching me to see my reaction. When he recieved none, he continued in the same soft tone.
"His parents offered his things to anyone who wanted a memory keepsake... Yamato and I are the last ones to go. We wanted to know if- if you wanted anything..."
My breath caught in my tightened throat. Ah, the chance to have something that still clung to the essence of my angel! All I had so far was memories, and although they are the most sacred of things, it would bring me comfort to be able to touch something that he once had.
"Yes," I answered, decision made without thinking. "Please... anything you can find."
Taichi nodded, smiling slightly and appearing a bit more hopeful now that I actually did something animated and made some decision on my own. "Gotcha."
We talked, me haltingly, him overwhelming me with his informational words. He told me things about the outside world, how my mother missed me, and was desperate to find me even though Taichi had obeyed my request to tell her I was safe and out of harms way. He told me how the rest of the team was doing, and went on to meaningless things like the newest songs out. With the loudest of blushes, he told me how Yamato had dedicated his new love song to him.
"It's great, it's just... I didn't expect it!"
"It sounds very romantic. How does it go?"
Taichi shot me a look. "You don't want me to sing."
"Why not?" I inquired, puzzled.
"I have a voice that would shatter a window."
"Well, I never said you had to sing it. Just tell me what it says," I pointed out dryly. He made a face at me and grinned.
"Fine. It goes like this." He paused, considering. "You are the dream I've waited forever to live... a thousand years are never enough to love you, baby... and you are my strength, and I am your love."
"That's all?"
"All I can remember."
I raised an eyebrow in comment, and he smiled softly and explained, "I was crying to hard to figure out the rest."
"Ah."
"Besides... he's promised a private solo just for me tonight..."
Again, more understanding and with a bit of laughter- "Ah."
We talked a bit more, and he left. I ignored the pain of sorrow as the door closed behind him. I knew he couldn't stay for to long before someone would miss him in the real world- I couldn't be selfish. And yet I wished they would stay longer.
It'd become a ritual every time they leave that they turn and ask me if I'd like to come with them. I've always said no. Or ignored them.
There was nothing out there to see if Daisuke couldn't see it with me.
Daisuke... my courageous, fiery angel. I miss you.
Aishiteru. Aishiteru, my amai.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next day, Yamato came with a small bundle in his arms, wrapped in dark cloth and clutched to his chest protectively. He looked at me, blonde hair seeming overly bright in the dreary atmosphere. Two striking blue eyes held my gaze until he nodded without a word.
Yamato Ishida has always been the more understanding of the two guardians, being in my predicament once himself when he was overcome with depression and loss of Tai. Thankfully it didn't last long- I wouldn't wish it on anyone. But he knew enough that I didn't need a smile or hello to know I was cared for.
"Me and Taichi-kun found some things at Daisuke's house," he finally said after my ritual of forced eating was done. I had been looking at the bundle with curiousity for some time, and now I dropped my fork with a clang on the stone floor. Not bothering to pick it up, I stared at it now.
"We thought you wanted some of his stuff." Yamato reached down gracefully and swept up the bag. I've always admired that about him- like me, he had a natural, smooth movement that seemed to fit into his personality like a snake's skin did. Just as the bright, seemingly sensual colours brought facination, anything could hide it.
"What did you find?" I asked, recalling I was one of the last to get anything most likely. I didn't care. Anything that was his was worth keeping.
"Well, Tai got you some stuff..." He glanced at me, deep blue eyes aloof but not without a certain warmth to them that gave him the crest of Friendship. "Pictures, little trinkets that were left over." He dumped a small pile of coloured photoes, a keychain or two, and a heavily bound leather book with dark casing.
I carefully placed the photos right side up after setting aside the key chains I didn't recognize. I knew these pictures- they were from Hikari's camara the day the entire team went to the beach to have a vacation of sorts. There was Iori, relentlessly building his empire of sand castles with Upamon and Chibimon. The empire hardly got off the ground thanks to the energetic blue ball of fur that kept bouncing on the tops.
Miyako and Poromon were lying strethed out on a beach towel, calmly careening their necks to the sun. Her ears were covered with headphones. The next picture revealed Takeru and Hikari waving, clutching each other's hands as they smiled radiantly. And the next had Takeru diving for a beach ball, yelling in panic, with Miyako laughing in the background from her spot on the striped towel.
There were a few more, all happy scenes of contentment. Then I flipped the next one, and my heart stopped with a painful clatter.
Daisuke...
It was him, just as I remembered every day, looking at the camera with a large grin that made his entire face light up like a lighthouse beacon. Optimistic brown eyes seemed to laugh, dancing with life, and he was teasing the camera shooter. The day had enough wind to make his hair blow gently, the long stands of red beside his face lifting. Just as I recalled, the very same stance he always had, feet apart, dark hands behind his head with elbows up, incredibally confident and brilliant.
My eyes were filling with tears without me knowing it.
Yamato's gentle voice caught my hearing, and I felt him place a hand on my shoulder as he looked at the picture. He was quiet, a certain pain making his face darken briefly.
"He was so happy."
I nodded tearfully. "He was, wasn't he?"
That was it, those words and understanding we seemed to share. And I turned the picture over, tearing my facinated gaze away before I was stuck forever looking at my love.
The next picture was harder. I was in it, uncertain, staring at the camera, while Daisuke was making a face behind my shoulder. I hadn't known it at the time, but his hands were making hilaroius gestures on the other side of me while I was completely focused on the fact that someone was taking my picture and I didn't know why.
The next, after I finally placed the other away after what felt like hours, was the hardest of all. It was the evening, hues of golden red spraying across the sky in waves. I was smiling softly, my eyes glowing with pleasure, wrapping my arms around a lovely redhead. Daisuke was gazing up at me with a look that said love all over it, reaching up to touch my face with compassion.
I think I started to sob then, because the next thing I know, the pictures are on the bedside table and Yama-chan is letting me cry into his shoulder. His hand's heavy on my back, and from the way his head is bowed, I can see his grief plainly.
We had missed out on so much when Daisuke was taken away from us. I missed a boyfriend, a love, a future mate. Yamato had missed a chance to mold someone, a son of twisted sorts, the boy he proudly called his successor.
After an hour of it, Yamato sighed. "I brought something else for you. But I don't know if you can take it."
Wiping my eyes weakly, I looked up at him with a pleading expression. I had to know what it was at the very least, and I would have it no other way but to get what he was hiding.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll give it to you." He sighed again, and reached with a long arm into the bag which was still slightly large. He pulled out something that was a faded blue color, worn with time. Cloth.
I recognized it immeadiatly and gave a cry of amazement.
"Oh, Yamato!"
"Yeah, I thought you might like it," he whispered with the barest flicker of smiles crossing his face.
"Like it? I- oh god..." I took it from him carefully but hurriedly, like a mother takes a child, and as soon as I felt the smooth fabric in my hands I started to smile in delight. I took my fingers and ran it over the familiar feel of demin.
When Daisuke and I had our second anniversary, we went walking through the shops downtown to look for something he liked. It had become a tradition that I would take him looking for his present, since it was so much easier and funner to shop together than apart. And then he would take me for mine.
While he was perusing the sport shops, I was looking at book stores for the present I would most likely have. I chose a book of Shakespear I'd wanted for a long time, knowing it wasn't costly, and it was something I wanted. I immeadiatly went to seek out my missing boyfriend, who'd disappeared next door into the local soccer store.
I couldn't find him there, so I stood outside, and then he came running up to me, eyes shining.
'Ken-chan! I found what I want!'
'What is it?'
He laughed, looking absolutely delighted with me. 'It's the best- just turn around and close your eyes!'
'What?'
'Turn around and close your eyes!'
I had no idea what he was talking about, or what his big surprise was, but I did as he commanded in bemusement. It was followed by the shuffling of a bag and then nothing.
'You can turn around now...'
Daisuke was a very odd person sometimes, although I loved him. He fancied the strangest things, and what he chose as a gift surprised me more than almost anything he'd done.
His usual trendish sport jacket had been tossed aside like a ragged doll, favoring a new demin one that looked as though it hadn't seen daylight for years. The fabric, somehow worn already and having a faded deep blue color that had lightened, seemed to tighten in on his skin in some places, and be oversized in others. The collar was folded down, the seams durable. The sleeves were obviously to long, and after a moment of thought he rolled them up to his elbows and struck a pose.
'Whaddya think?'
'I... where did you get that thing?'
'The thrift shop! Isn't it the coolest?'
I would have thought him insane if I hadn't seen him with it on, seen with my own two eyes. It did seem to have his name written all over it. The jacket fit him perfectly, as though it were made for him, despite it's worn quality, it gave it a feel. Daisuke looked... just so perfect.
After a bit of time getting used to him in it, I found it the highlight of our relationship to snake my arms around his waist under the jacket and press him to me. Or to hold him around the shoulders. Kiss his neck when he wasn't looking. He found it hilarious that I grew obsessed with seeing him in that jacket.
'What is it with this jacket and you?'
'Well, you look sexy in it.' I flashed a devlish smile at him.
Now... I held the fabric in my hands and new tears splashed on it. It still felt like Daisuke... it still looked like I could throw it on a chair and he would pick it up any time. After I brought it to my face, rubbing it against me, I realized with more crying that it still carried his scent. It was still full of my love, still a part of him.
I looked at Yamato, my teary eyes saying all the thanks I could ever say.
He smiled sadly and came to sit beside me.
I fingered the seams, the wrist buttons, the frayed collar. I couldn't seem to stop hugging it to me. It was the most precious thing suddenly, because it was still full of him. Full of his life. It reminded me what it was like to be able to come home and surprise him with a passionate kiss from behind.
It was all I had wanted, and what I couldn't have anymore.
I sighed softly at that, sorrowful at the thought, and brushed the pockets.
And stopped.
"What is it?" Yamato asked, seeing the startled look on my features. I shook my head wordlessly, turning the coat and sticking on hand deep into the pocket. I could feel it- yes, it was there. A single scrap of paper. Most likely a bubble gum wrapper, or some small note. I brought it out in my curiousity and anxiousness to have yet another thing that may mean something to me.
I unfolded the simple notebook paper, and read down. Staring hard at it when I finished.
"What is it?" Yamato demanded in confusion.
"It's... a poem," I replied numbly in amazement. "He... he wrote a poem."
"He what?"
I understood his confusion. As far as I had understood, Daisuke had never had any interest in poetry. He loved to read certain books- his room had been filled with bookshelves- but he'd never seemed to write anything. And something... so very deep.
So obviously to me.
My eyes filled with tears, and Yamato took it from me as I bured my head in my hands and sobbed. He put a hand on my shoulder absently, and looked at it, eyes widening.
"He- he did write a poem," he echoed in shock. His own eyes filled with shining tears that slipped down his face as he read quietly:
"My love, we sit like broken shards of glass
Then you touched my lips
And there I fell into a world of sunlight
There I found your arms.
Such is a timeless age that we two
Would pour our sweet moments into one
For I would miss nothing
And you could take all I gave.
These are my lifetimes, a million
Chances to shine for only your grace
And here we are frozen
My love, you and I.
Should I ever fall from your stars
I would fear not for you would catch me
We share a bond deeper than rules
Somewhere beyond love and despair.
Beyond love I would find you
Should I ever lose the sun-
Live for me, so strong are we
We're past dying for love."
Somewhere half way into it, Yamato's voice cracked with amazement and anguish, and he had to give up and talk in hoarse whipsers. I understood how he felt. I would never have the strength to read it out loud, even to myself.
Oh Daisuke... my angel...
My tears fell faster than ever, but I took the paper back almost savagely and stared blurridly at the words. Here was my precious object, the one thing that was mine and Daisuke's that no one could take away. His words to me. Words he never had the time to give.
But... were they true? Were we really so in love that Death had no power over us?
"He really had faith in you," Yamato whispered, tears brimming in his eyes still like small glass drops that shimmered in the candlelight. "In your love. And he knew... he knew, didn't he? He knew... he was sick..."
My eyes closed, and I laid back against the pillow in exhaustion, feeling my soul drain. "Yes... yes, he did."
It was a quick death. A rare disease that created a small fault in the brain that made the matter implode suddenly without warning. One second, he was smiling funny, then his eyes went blank and he fell.
Somehow... he must have known. The urgent kisses, the way he had started to demand my time.
My angel... oh god...
"Damn," Yamato said. "Oh god damn."
I gasped for air, heaving my chest up and down, feeling as though I'll be having a heart attack and joining him soon. The words of the poem seemed to bore into my mind.
Daisuke knew he didn't have enough time. And he wanted to tell me this, give me hope. How could I have hope without my Courage?
And yet...
My eyes caught blurred words.
'Beyond love I would find you
Should I ever lose the sun-
Live for me, so strong are we
We're past dying for love.'
Were we? There was life out there... Daisuke had taught me that. And I wanted to live, somewhere deep down with that wistfullness every time Taichi and Yamato left, deeper still with the urgent cry commanding my mother. I loved Daisuke.
But would laying here, half dead and half alive, do anything?
Taking deep breaths, for the first time I considered a life without him. Without waking up to his face every morning like he promised. Without my surprises, his adoration, his spirit and warmth mixing with my amused mysterious nature. I would walk every day on the roads we have taken together, but there wouldn't be anyone waving and coming up to meet me. I couldn't love someone after I loved Daisuke.
It was not possible.
And yet... there was the attraction. The will that if I did this, made it through life's grueling torture, maybe it would end with my love. That someday some car will accidently hit me, or I'll die of old age in my bed, and the first eyes I'll see will be chocolate brown ones that are calling for me.
I would have killed myself by now if it hadn't been for Wormmon, my parents, and the others. Like it or not, I had people depending on me. And it was either I lived in some state of slight happiness, or I lived in misery in a dark tower with little food and almost no company.
"Ken? Are you okay?"
I glanced at Yamato, frightened. "Yama-kun... do you think he's right? Is our love- our bond- stronger than death?"
Yamato stared at me. Slowly, a sad haunting smile came over his face. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so."
"I love him."
"He loved- and loves- you."
My head bowed, dark blue hair falling over my face as I cried. And looked up again, determined this time. Unsteadily, my limbs trembling with grief, strain, and resistance, I sat up straight. Yamato jumped in his chair.
"Whoa, let me help you-"
"No. I have to do this myself," I told him shakily. "I have to."
I stood up, swaying uncontrollably, and Yamato rose a hand to make me stop. With the pressure of his arm on my back, supporting me, I focused my eyes on the window.
I love Daisuke. I will always love him. Longer than death, longer than life.
I had no idea what I was doing- later I might regret it, or I might realize it was the best choice of my life. But if Daisuke wished something so, it was my will to make it happen. That was always the way it worked.
We had a bond. Beyond hate, beyond passion and lust. It was beyond friendship and trust, guidence and faith.
Beyond love and death and life.
With this thought, tears still staining my eyes like I knew they still would for a long time, I took my first step in proving my faith in Daisuke's belief we were always one.
I snapped open the window shade, and let the sunlight in. It flooded the tower room, making me gasp, half strangled, stumbling back into Yamato's arms as he yelped in shock. It was to bright to look at.
But I would try... for him... always for him.
If I couldn't be with Daisuke, I'd settle for the world he embraced so willingly. Our souls would connect in that way, if any way.
And when I left that world, he would be waiting for me beyond it.
And beyond that...
And beyond that...
And beyond that...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THE END: ^_^ Hate it? Love it? ... yeah, it's sappy... heh, whoops... midnight babble!