OI! The Impression I get is on hold until after Exams! Then I will spend my time on that. It will be finished in 5 parts, and next is part 3. I'll have that out after my exams then continue on, ok? ^__^ Then after that? ANOTHER SERIES! You'll have to look for that, but on with my Matt fic, of course.

Had an impulse to write Yamato. When the idea is fresh you write it down.
A bit angst-y I guess. I don't really like angst either, and here I am writing a load of it. Ah well, all for the atmosphere, I do it all for that.

It's about Yamato Ishida, and how he should remain popular. Don't let him fade in your hearts fans, don't!


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Name coma Blank


He was different from other boys his age. But maybe not extremely different and unique all to his own. He probably was in the same situation like many others as well, but for now, he'll be different from most boys his age.

Yamato Ishida's parents were divorced. That caused problems. He became tougher, colder, and too old for his age. Yamato Ishida had to grow up too soon, and he must've hated it. He couldn't have liked the way of his life that was chosen for him. Instead of BY him. His brother went with his mother. He went with his father.

But you aren't the same now, Yamato. You've changed again and again and people change all the time. Everyday, minute, they change to things that they want and might not want to become.

You didn't want to change, did you?

Yamato was a more sociable kind of guy now. He led around a lot of his friends expertly. He was a good leader. But he ALWAYS thought that. But it could have been Taichi's influence. Whatever.

Yamato Ishida's fame was unbelievable. Not one of his friends thought he'd be the one to become such a star. He had fans, sold out concerts and t-shirts. Nothing could have brought him down from his pillar but Gabumon. Ah yeah, the wonderful companion of Yamato Ishida. He was such a good fighter too. What had been their crest again? Friendship, yes...

But by now you haven't learned, Yamato. You still make the same mistakes over and over again and you don't do anything to correct them. People thought you'd try to, at least. THEY thought you'd try to. They wanted you to. And you did nothing.

How could you?

Yamato started to dress in black. If it was to symbolize his growing distress or his now "deepened soul and outlook towards life", as he so nicely put it, they did not know. His looks could have given them a clue or two, though.

Yamato Ishida then played his songs again. He would play them for THEM. He played his guitar, new and shiny. For the old one had been scratched, and heaven help them if he played with a guitar such as that. And his chords had been in minor. All of them, each single note that was plucked turned out a sound of minor. You'd think HE, Yamato Ishida would play in major. He had goals, and dreams. But minor spoke of sadness and depression. And maybe he had those things too.

They could have told you, Yamato.

Yamato grew up with them. His appearance grew to fit his personality, and there should have definitely been some balance. But Yamato hadn't stood on the scales of society, and many of his fans loved him for that. They have loved you long enough, Yamato.

But no, no, NO! It's not enough. It was never enough. He wanted more fans, more compact disks and more fame. He needed it. It was the only thing that kept Yamato Ishida in balance with his fluctuating heart. No matter how it beat, you know, Yamato had to play a different one, and maybe that's why he couldn't stand with them.

It's all going to end one day, Yamato.

Yamato didn't want to believe it. All his life he didn't want to. And yet, deep inside he knew he would die. Just not in this way. All his money, his fans, his life, his support. All gone for him to be alone. He realised he has always been alone then, and they had said so many things to him. He had been convinced and happy, he was HAPPY, when they said he was going to be a legend in music. That his songs would be forever played in the hearts of fans new and old around the world. But they stopped playing last month.

And he had been utterly and helplessly in love with the way they had treated him. He had given his life to his love, and Yamato Ishida finally knew he lost it fully. There was no turning back on the winding road of mockery. How it was twisted and bent to look so ugly. He thought about all his pretty things. He would not have those now though.

You should have taken what they offered you, Yamato.

Yamato knew he should have remembered, but he had chose to ignore. He ignored his past to greet the future, he forgot. And forgetting was bad, you know, he didn't own anything anymore. He couldn't even call a mere friendship his own, for he had to share it. And he hadn't grown enough in those years, he thought. He miscalculated. Thought he could behave as an adult because he HAD behaved like one. But you never grew into an adult, Yamato. You grew up into the only thing you knew, and now it's being taken away. So what now?

Yamato Ishida had to stare as they came to collect his pretty things. HIS things no longer. And he was bitter, sullen, ANGRY at the way he had been forced into a split family, how he became his reaper as a star, how he played in minor and dressed in black, and how he couldn't fix it all. He eyes were harsh again, like they had been long ago, when he knew nothing except what had been done to him, instead of what he was going to do. He watched as they took his pretty things, how they put it all into the rusty truck. It was ugly, and would head down his cruel road of mockery. Yamato had to say goodbye to it, make it concrete and approve the documents in his hands as he watched.

But, Thou hath no name, Yamato Ishida. And as of now, you've left it unsigned.




Fin


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Ehe... I guess you know I dislike Yamato now, eh? How'd you like it?