Emerald Eyes
By: Valyn
A/N: Takes place just about anytime after Ken becomes good again.
Disclaimer: Mon ami, Digimon a pa mon. Don't ask. {My friend, Digimon is not mine.} At least, I think I spelled it right.
A small shaft of sunlight spilled through the blinds on the window, tracing a pattern of shadows across the young boy's features. The boy's eyelids fluttered slightly, then closed even tighter. He turned over in his sleep, facing away from the shafts of sunlight coming from his window.
Silently, the door opened a few inches. Minako Hida peered in, sorrow shadowing her pretty features. Her emerald eyes glistened with unshed tears as she watched her son, deep in a peaceful sleep.
Softly, with the greatest care, she closed the door, and walked down the hall. It would be kinder to let him sleep, on now of all days. The pain this day held could be numbed by sleep, and anything that could protect him from the pain would be given.
If only she could shield him from the pain completely. But that was impossible.
Back in the bedroom, Iori's emerald eyes fluttered open. The calm and comfort of sleep clouded them once more, but he fought it. He wanted to wake up. If not, he'd be late for school.
He sat up and rubbed his eyes, and stretched. His eyes strayed to the calendar on the far wall. He narrowed his eyes momentarily, confused. The date.....that didn't make sense......
Then the significance hit him. His eyes went wide, brimming with tears. He buried his face in his hands.
The date. The anniversary of his father's death.
Called by the stifled sobs, Minako came back to the bedroom to see Iori huddled in his bed, crying. She came in quietly, sat down on the end of the bed, and put her arms around her son.
"Shhh...It's all right," she whispered, ignoring the tears escaping her own eyes, rubbing his back soothingly "It's all right Iori."
"....otousan..." Iori sobbed, his voice muffled by his mother's shoulder. Minako rocked him gently, humming a forgotten tune quietly. Iori's sobs receded a bit, and the tears slowed.
"There's no school for you today," she whispered once his crying quieted. Iori would have protested, but he simply couldn't find the strength within him to do so. He felt completely drained. He didn't move as his mother gathered him in her arms and rocked him like she had when he had been younger.
"Where's Grandpa..?" Iori managed to say.
"He's here, don't worry Iori." His mother assured him. Iori fell silent, and let his eyelids droop, letting the last of his strength leave him. Within minutes, his breathing slowed and became heavier, and his emerald eyes closed in slumber. His painful memories, at least for a while, would not trouble him.
When Iori awoke, he had been tucked back into his bed. No light filtered through the blinds, several hours had probably passed. He could faintly hear the sounds of the kitchen, his mother was probably making lunch-or dinner maybe? He couldn't be sure.
A fresh onslaught of tears came, and he fell back against his pillow, crying. None of his strength seemed to have returned since morning. He hated it, he hated feeling weak, feeling this despair.
After all these years, he still couldn't let his father go. He couldn't bring himself to forget, yet remembering was almost unbearable. Fragments of remembrance tore at his memory, making that night so long ago sear with unbearable agony.
His father had been giving him a ride in his patrol car. They'd stopped at a convenience store to buy some groceries. Nothing had seemed wrong. Just another night.
Then his father had gone pale, staring at the store from the car. Iori vaguely remembered threatening figures stalking in and out of the store, holding large sacks.
'Iori,' his father had said 'Stay in the car. Hide under the seat. Don't move until I come back.'
Iori had obeyed, crouching in a ball under the front seat, shivering.
Then he'd heard the shot. Ignoring his fathers orders, he's bolted up, and looked.
His father had fired at the big scary-looking men. They'd yelled, and scattered. Iori felt a surge of pride. His father was doing his job. Just like he had been taught, the good guy had won.
Then one of the retreating figures had whirled around, and fired a gun.
His father collapsed. The thug ran away along with the others.
Iori had opened the car door, and ran to his father's side as fast as his legs would carry him. His father had looked at him briefly, then gone still.
After that, all Iori could remember was darkness, and the sound of his own voice screaming.
He wouldn't forget. And he couldn't.
Weariness overtook him, and he went limp. Despair clung to his mind, numbing his thoughts and feelings. Sleep claimed him once more.
Daylight brought him back to the land of the living. Morning again. That cursed day had passed while he had slept.
A soft knock on his door made him jump. It opened slowly, and his mother walked in, holding a tray of food. The aroma of a hot broth made Iori aware of how hungry he was.
"Hungry?" she asked lightly. Iori nodded gratefully. Minako set the tray down on his night stand and sat on the bed beside him, wordlessly.
"What time is it?" Iori inquired. His mother smiled slightly.
"Ten o'clock." She replied, chuckling, and reached over and ruffled his hair affectionately "You slept right through. I didn't want to wake you."
Iori looked down at his hands. The others, they'd be counting on him to come, they needed him. He couldn't just stay home, he had to go and do what was his responsibility.
Minako noticed his silence. She peered at his face worriedly, wondering.
"I have to go to school." Iori said firmly. Minako sighed, but smiled.
"I know better than try to change your mind. Get dressed, and I'll take you to school."
Iori nodded and smiled gratefully, and watched his mom as she left the room, closing the door behind her. He stretched, and climbed out of bed.
"Upamon? Upamon!" He called anxiously. Where had the little Digimon gone for the past two days.
His question was answered as a custard colored ball of fluff bounded out of the closet, and leapt onto the desk next to the food tray.
"Food!" the In-training Digimon exclaimed, and practically attacked the tray. Iori smiled wryly, remembering a comment TK had once made, stating that In-training Digimon were bottomless pits. He watched Upamon devour the food as if he hadn't eaten in months, and helped himself to the hot soup on the tray.
When Upamon had ceased stuffing his face, he turned to Iori, beady black eyes shining with concern.
"What happened yesterday, Iori?" the little Digimon inquired, bouncing into Iori's lap. He sighed, and scratched Upamon behind the ears.
"Yesterday was the anniversary of the day my father passed away." He said quietly, brushing away the single tear that had escaped his eye. Upamon's ears drooped.
"Sorry," he mumbled. Iori shook his head and picked him up.
"Don't be. Anyway, we're going to school as soon as my mom can take me. We'll be able to help the others today."
Upamon cheered up a great deal.
"You mean we'll be able to have some of those yummy snacks that Miyako brings? Will we will we will we will we?"
Iori actually laughed, and nodded.
A/N: I'll only write a sequel if you ask me to. So review. :P
And Kyra? I know you enjoyed this. Go to her site: Yangu Tsuyosa!
By: Valyn
A/N: Takes place just about anytime after Ken becomes good again.
Disclaimer: Mon ami, Digimon a pa mon. Don't ask. {My friend, Digimon is not mine.} At least, I think I spelled it right.
A small shaft of sunlight spilled through the blinds on the window, tracing a pattern of shadows across the young boy's features. The boy's eyelids fluttered slightly, then closed even tighter. He turned over in his sleep, facing away from the shafts of sunlight coming from his window.
Silently, the door opened a few inches. Minako Hida peered in, sorrow shadowing her pretty features. Her emerald eyes glistened with unshed tears as she watched her son, deep in a peaceful sleep.
Softly, with the greatest care, she closed the door, and walked down the hall. It would be kinder to let him sleep, on now of all days. The pain this day held could be numbed by sleep, and anything that could protect him from the pain would be given.
If only she could shield him from the pain completely. But that was impossible.
Back in the bedroom, Iori's emerald eyes fluttered open. The calm and comfort of sleep clouded them once more, but he fought it. He wanted to wake up. If not, he'd be late for school.
He sat up and rubbed his eyes, and stretched. His eyes strayed to the calendar on the far wall. He narrowed his eyes momentarily, confused. The date.....that didn't make sense......
Then the significance hit him. His eyes went wide, brimming with tears. He buried his face in his hands.
The date. The anniversary of his father's death.
Called by the stifled sobs, Minako came back to the bedroom to see Iori huddled in his bed, crying. She came in quietly, sat down on the end of the bed, and put her arms around her son.
"Shhh...It's all right," she whispered, ignoring the tears escaping her own eyes, rubbing his back soothingly "It's all right Iori."
"....otousan..." Iori sobbed, his voice muffled by his mother's shoulder. Minako rocked him gently, humming a forgotten tune quietly. Iori's sobs receded a bit, and the tears slowed.
"There's no school for you today," she whispered once his crying quieted. Iori would have protested, but he simply couldn't find the strength within him to do so. He felt completely drained. He didn't move as his mother gathered him in her arms and rocked him like she had when he had been younger.
"Where's Grandpa..?" Iori managed to say.
"He's here, don't worry Iori." His mother assured him. Iori fell silent, and let his eyelids droop, letting the last of his strength leave him. Within minutes, his breathing slowed and became heavier, and his emerald eyes closed in slumber. His painful memories, at least for a while, would not trouble him.
When Iori awoke, he had been tucked back into his bed. No light filtered through the blinds, several hours had probably passed. He could faintly hear the sounds of the kitchen, his mother was probably making lunch-or dinner maybe? He couldn't be sure.
A fresh onslaught of tears came, and he fell back against his pillow, crying. None of his strength seemed to have returned since morning. He hated it, he hated feeling weak, feeling this despair.
After all these years, he still couldn't let his father go. He couldn't bring himself to forget, yet remembering was almost unbearable. Fragments of remembrance tore at his memory, making that night so long ago sear with unbearable agony.
His father had been giving him a ride in his patrol car. They'd stopped at a convenience store to buy some groceries. Nothing had seemed wrong. Just another night.
Then his father had gone pale, staring at the store from the car. Iori vaguely remembered threatening figures stalking in and out of the store, holding large sacks.
'Iori,' his father had said 'Stay in the car. Hide under the seat. Don't move until I come back.'
Iori had obeyed, crouching in a ball under the front seat, shivering.
Then he'd heard the shot. Ignoring his fathers orders, he's bolted up, and looked.
His father had fired at the big scary-looking men. They'd yelled, and scattered. Iori felt a surge of pride. His father was doing his job. Just like he had been taught, the good guy had won.
Then one of the retreating figures had whirled around, and fired a gun.
His father collapsed. The thug ran away along with the others.
Iori had opened the car door, and ran to his father's side as fast as his legs would carry him. His father had looked at him briefly, then gone still.
After that, all Iori could remember was darkness, and the sound of his own voice screaming.
He wouldn't forget. And he couldn't.
Weariness overtook him, and he went limp. Despair clung to his mind, numbing his thoughts and feelings. Sleep claimed him once more.
Daylight brought him back to the land of the living. Morning again. That cursed day had passed while he had slept.
A soft knock on his door made him jump. It opened slowly, and his mother walked in, holding a tray of food. The aroma of a hot broth made Iori aware of how hungry he was.
"Hungry?" she asked lightly. Iori nodded gratefully. Minako set the tray down on his night stand and sat on the bed beside him, wordlessly.
"What time is it?" Iori inquired. His mother smiled slightly.
"Ten o'clock." She replied, chuckling, and reached over and ruffled his hair affectionately "You slept right through. I didn't want to wake you."
Iori looked down at his hands. The others, they'd be counting on him to come, they needed him. He couldn't just stay home, he had to go and do what was his responsibility.
Minako noticed his silence. She peered at his face worriedly, wondering.
"I have to go to school." Iori said firmly. Minako sighed, but smiled.
"I know better than try to change your mind. Get dressed, and I'll take you to school."
Iori nodded and smiled gratefully, and watched his mom as she left the room, closing the door behind her. He stretched, and climbed out of bed.
"Upamon? Upamon!" He called anxiously. Where had the little Digimon gone for the past two days.
His question was answered as a custard colored ball of fluff bounded out of the closet, and leapt onto the desk next to the food tray.
"Food!" the In-training Digimon exclaimed, and practically attacked the tray. Iori smiled wryly, remembering a comment TK had once made, stating that In-training Digimon were bottomless pits. He watched Upamon devour the food as if he hadn't eaten in months, and helped himself to the hot soup on the tray.
When Upamon had ceased stuffing his face, he turned to Iori, beady black eyes shining with concern.
"What happened yesterday, Iori?" the little Digimon inquired, bouncing into Iori's lap. He sighed, and scratched Upamon behind the ears.
"Yesterday was the anniversary of the day my father passed away." He said quietly, brushing away the single tear that had escaped his eye. Upamon's ears drooped.
"Sorry," he mumbled. Iori shook his head and picked him up.
"Don't be. Anyway, we're going to school as soon as my mom can take me. We'll be able to help the others today."
Upamon cheered up a great deal.
"You mean we'll be able to have some of those yummy snacks that Miyako brings? Will we will we will we will we?"
Iori actually laughed, and nodded.
A/N: I'll only write a sequel if you ask me to. So review. :P
And Kyra? I know you enjoyed this. Go to her site: Yangu Tsuyosa!