What Works
Summary: Yamato muses on his break-up with Sora. AU to my headcanon; can be read standalone. One-shot. Taiora
A/N: I would love to write more Taiora, so feedback is appreciated.
A/N 2: Since so many of you were curious about events prior/during the break up, I'm including the notes here.
Read my first two chapters of Evenings here: s/10686848/1/Evenings
and Angel Weasel-Woman's "Old College Try" for Sora's POV: s/10812369/1/Old-College-Try
Yamato grinned to himself as he smoked a cigarette. He was tucked under a tree, observing his friends from afar. Part of him was jealous, but that cold flame died quickly. He could never have made it work. Taichi could, even if he didn't think it.
The blonde remembered the first time he realized it: when Taichi was bawling like a baby after he failed to rescue Sora. Sure, everyone was upset- but only Taichi had cried. Then, later, when they had regrouped before meeting Vamdemon. The look on Taichi's face had been priceless. Yamato was tucked away on the hill, still scarred by the words his little brother had said to Sora. I don't miss my Mom as much.
That was why it could never work. Why it hadn't.
But at least, Taichi finally found the stones to run to her, to comfort her like he had wanted to back then. Yamato didn't want to get involved and everyone took it as some 'sign of maturity'. The blonde never intended that- he just wanted his best friends to work things out.
Taichi hugged Sora now, running his hand over her busted cheek. Yeah, Yamato had been responsible for that. He hated himself, too, for losing himself in such things. He would never admit he wasn't over it and he would never attempt to explain his pain to anyone- after all, that had failed the first time.
Sora buried herself in his chest. How Taichi must have smelled so sane. Even Yamato was comforted in his arms- it was why they would still be best friends after a few fights. Why did you attack Sora? Yamato wouldn't answer. An exchange of blows. Rinse and repeat, then Taichi would realize he wasn't going to talk.
Fuck, Yamato hated the sound of his own voice. Ironic for a singer, sure, but that had never been his dream anyway.
The pair started walking away. Maybe that night would be the time they finally kissed amongst the fireflies of the park, admitting things they didn't want to admit.
And that was why they worked and he didn't.
Yamato stamped the cigarette out under his boot and started home. Even he would miss her company and it should make for some sappy song fodder.