Firefly
By: The Brat Prince
Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon. Hell, I don't even own my own inner voice, ^-^. Frederick: That's right, I've been copyrighted. The Brat Prince: Sugar, stop rubbing it in. Anyways, don't sue. I'm broke. But feel free to donate money. (A girl can hope, right?)
He watched the firefly dance in and out of the shadows, weaving a web reminiscent of a spider's, only it was a web intangible to the senses, glimpses of light that vanished when examined closely.
It was interesting of course, the way the little bug was able to just fly around, carefree. Nothing in the world could stop it's beautiful flight, nothing except a little child with a tiny glass jar clutched in it's grubby fingers, laughing loudly as it chased the creature, trying to grasp it's magic. He had done that with Takeru when he was young, still thinking the world had so much in store for him, so many adventures to be had. So many unexplained things, things science and school would teach him eventually. Things that would eventually lose their luster, their charm.
Only in high school, and a true cynacist. He wished he could go back to the time before the Digiworld had dropped the burden of responsibility in his 11 year old lap and catch fireflies with Takeru again.
At 17, Yamato Ishida was every girl's dream date, every guys idol. He had anything and everything he could ever want on the outside. The perfect family once again, the perfect, equally idolized little brother and successful journalist parents; never mind one worked for a TV station and one for a magazine, they were both 'journalists'. The perfect girlfriend, up and coming tennis player and ambitious fashion designer Sora Takenouchi. And the perfect best friend, junior soccer team national champion, Taichi Yagami. Of course Yamato himself had his own perfectly laid out career as a rock musician.
It was all shit. Sure, Yamato's parents had gotten back together, but not for real. They did love each other, they really did. It would just never work out, they were too different. They had only gotten back together for Yamato's career, to make him look better. It had only made things worse though. His dad drank more than ever, came home smelling like sex and cheap perfume every night. His mom had taken up smoking, and couldn't stand being in the house. She'd leave for weeks, leaving Yamato to take care of everything. Otherwise the laundry would never get done, and TK and his dad would never be fed.
Takeru himself was going through some hard times. He was the star basketball player, but he wasn't invincible. His parents had driven him to hang out with a bad crowd, and he had gotten involved with some pretty heavy drugs. Just recently had Yamato found out, enrolling him in special courses to handle the problem rather than send him away for rehabilitation. They didn't have the money anyways, their dad had spent it all. In fact, Yamato wasn't even sure Mr. Ishida knew about TK's problem.
As for Sora, she was the wicked bitch of the far east. Stupid witch had blackmailed him into dating her when she had found out a little too much about his personal life. Then, what with his family, and TK she just had more and more on him. He hated her. At any rate, she had originally done it on some sick grounds of love, more like obsession, and then the obsession became need. She was quickly losing popularity on the tennis courts, too aggressive and oft times cruel. Her fashion designs, although appreciated by their strange, whimsical art teacher, were too ugly to be accepted in normal society. So she hung on the outskirts of Matt's inner circle until she was able to trick him into needing her too, or at least needing her silence.
Sometimes Yamato wished they had never left the digiworld, where Takeru had still been his sweet, innocent little brother and Sora had been her kind, caring self. Where his feelings for Taichi had not been so strong, and so strongly returned.
That's right. He, Yamato Ishida, and his best friend, Taichi Yagami, were not just friends. They were lovers. As in they were in love.
Sora would have had a fit had she known. But that wasn't the whole story. The guys who had gotten TK into drugs...they were on Tai's soccer team. They were Taichi's friends. One of them was Taichi. It killed him every time he thought about it. Tai insisted he was getting help. Constantly. And one look into his soft, doe-like eyes made Yamato melt, like the melted chocolate color he saw reflected there. No matter what, Yamato couldn't not believe his love. Even when he saw him in the halls, laughing with his friends, beautiful orbs so obviously vacant, soul soaring to heights he couldn't see from induced illusions. Music was Yamato's only salvation from the hell he knew.
What had driven him to it, he would never know. In a way, Taichi, Sora and all of Yamato's family were like fireflies, once so carefree, but now caught in a little glass cage, and with time, the few air holes they had wouldn't be sufficient. They'd just...die.
************************************************************************
"Yamato! Where are you?" Sora's shrill voice demanded loudly over the answering machine. Yamato sighed, vaguely recalling a dream he had about fireflies and Gabumon, his dear friend Gabumon whom he missed so very much. He picked up the phone, immediately knowing he was going to regret it.
"Sora," He said slowly, "It's nice to talk to you too," He grimaced, knowing exactly how much she would bitch over that statement. She did, quite loudly.
"Where the hell are you Yamato Ishida? You were supposed to pick me up over an hour ago! Do you know we have a totally important appearance at the Takaguchi party to make? What were you thinking?" She yelled, "That whore Mimi will get all the attention now!"
Mimi had moved back to Japan in their senior year. She had tried to make friends with Sora again, but the redhead had been too far gone into her own selfishness. Mimi was definitely not a whore or a slut or any of the other mean names Sora called her- she at least had still kept to her old, sweet, innocent personality. Everyone at school worshipped her charm, which matched only Hikari Yagami's in the grammar school. And even she was starting to turn to Sora's ways- setting Takeru and Daisuke up against each other- she was one of the things that had driven TK to what he did. Only she didn't know it, and unlike Sora would probably feel terrible if she did.
"Uh...Sorry?" Matt asked weakly. He wasn't up to dealing with Sora right now. What he really wanted was to go back to sleep, to dream about fireflies and Taichi and Takeru and the Digiworld. He wanted reality to leave him alone.
Reality wasn't very acquiescent. Sigh. Neither was Sora's shrill voice. "Sora, babe. I'll be there soon. Let me get dressed. Band practice was harsh-" The sound of a dial tone met his ears. Sora had hung up. She never wanted to hear about Yamato's life. After all, he was just eye candy.
Languidly, Yamato got up, smoothing out his silky black satin sheets. He threw on a pair of silky boxers, a matching silky black shirt, and his usual tight black jeans. Originally, the damned jeans had been uncomfortable, but his manager had told him he looked sexy in them, that it was good for promotional purposes. He hadn't known whether to agree or run away.
Taking a glance in the mirror, Matt realized he didn't really care much what he looked like any more. The bags beneath his eyes could be hidden by makeup, the loose silk covered his exposed ribs. His hair was the only thing he had to maintain, keeping it glossy with lots of washing. He didn't feel like gelling it into perfect spikes, and it was only Sora and the rest of the school after all. Not Taichi. He was away at rehab. His Taichi.
He grabbed a leather coat and stepped into the cool night air, absently fingering his small silver earring. It bothered him sometimes that he'd gotten it for promotional stuff, but Tai had told him he looked cuter with it, and that was all that mattered. Not what fans thought. Fans only brought him money, not love. Love was what Tai had put into the necklace Yamato wore on a small silver chain around his neck- a little silver pendant, a small silver wolf head.
Walking to Sora's house was easier than driving- she only lived a few blocks down. But she'd be pissed if he didn't drive his ice blue Mercedes convertible over there. Had to show up in style, right?
She walked out like the queen of all things damned, head high, proud, evil glinting in her beady red eyes. Her red hair was longer now, down to her shoulders. She wore it loose, in diamond barrettes. More like rhinestones, but who cared? They were in high school after all. Her dress was low cut, slinky, and red. Always red, like blood. Yamato figured if she had been bored a Digimon, she'd have been a vampire. Like Myotismon. Red fit her well.
"M'lady," He said dryly, holding the door open. She shot him a glare. They drove in silence, neither really feeling like conversing. It was mutually beneficial to their lives if they kept quiet.
They reached the party, in a small apartment in Narita that held too many people for it's own good. Music was throbbing from every crevice, every doorframe. Beautiful, glorious, pulsing music. The music that had saved Matt from suicide thousands of thousands of times. He had never seriously considered it, because when he started too, he thought of his music.
Laughing, genuinely, Matt dragged Sora onto the dance floor of wiggling, writhing, sweaty bodies. Dancing was the only thing they had in common- they both kicked ass at it. She was surprised, but she instantly covered it, pressing her body close to his, sultrily pursing her lips and shaking her hips. Her sinuous curves attracted the eyes of all the guys in the room, and that was the way she liked it.
Matt caught glimpse of Mimi in the midst of his euphoria, standing by the mini bar with two familiar looking young men. She looked gorgeous, as always, yet very very alone with all the guys drooling over her ex-best friend. Her white lace, off the shoulder dress set off her tanned skin, and pooled around her thighs like clouds. She grinned and waves, as did the two handsome young men, both dressed very snazzy. One, tall, with short purple hair was dressed in a starched white shirt and black pants that made him look...mysterious? And the other, decked out in khakis and an orange silk shirt that offset his spiky auburn hair looked almost adorable. Magickal. Like a firefly.
Sora had caught sight of Mimi too, even with the throbbing strobe lights and mass of bodies blocking her view. Her dancing started getting even more risqué, more like a girl trying to make another girl jealous. Yamato didn't like it.
He tried to break free, but found it difficult. Eventually he succeeded, leaving Sora in the hands- literally, of their oh-so-gracious guest Kiani Takaguchi. He walked over to Mimi, who curtsied, giggling. She gave him a sympathetic look when he glanced back at Sora, who was glaring again. She never stopped.
"So, Meems, who're your friends?" Yamato asked, nodding politely to them, although he had a feeling he knew them. So familiar. The one in orange looked so much like a firefly under the strange lighting.
"Yama-chan? Have you forgotten? Our dear Daisuke and Ken?" Yamato could have slapped himself. Of course. He had known that. Why hadn't he remembered? Even if he hadn't seen any of them since he had first started dating Tai.
"Yamato-san," Ken bowed respectfully, "Hey Ken. Like the new do," Matt replied, gesturing to his short hair.
"It ain't that new," Daisuke said gruffly, "But you would know that if you kept in touch, wouldn't you?" He asked meanly.
Fireflies would never be so cruel, "Dai-chan! Yama-chan's had things on his mind." Mimi exclaimed, always the peacemaker.
"Yeah, like TS's fast recovery?" Daisuke growled, shocking Yamato, "How did you know?" He whispered, pale.
"Yamato, everyone knows. You didn't think it was a secret did you? He's been out of school for weeks. Last we saw him he was with Taichi. Didn't you know?" Ken asked softly, uncertainly.
"No. Tai's in rehab. You're lying!" Yamato felt his heart breaking for the upteenth time. Ken wasn't lying of course. Ken never lied. And of course Yamato knew. He had disillusioned himself so much, but he saw when his brother came home late from his addict's meetings, smelling like his own father when he came back from the bars. Drugs, sex, alcohol. But Matt didn't want to deal with it. The fact that Takeru would lie to him.
"No." Daisuke glared at him, a fiery, pure, innocent glare. Like a firefly.
************************************************************************
(Ah. Sorry. I'm lazy. I cut it here. I could have made it a cliffhanger. But I didn't. Again. Sorry. It's late.
Chibi-Lestat: Duh.
Chibi-Armand: Chibi-Armand sleepy now.
The Brat Prince: I know, I know. ^-^ Sorry.
Chibi-Lestat: Stop apologizing.
Chibi-Yamato: *grumble* stop making Yamasuke fics. And Taito fics. And fics in general.
The Brat Prince: :P No. Bye! R+R pllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeeeaasssssssssssssse???!! Be nice!)
By: The Brat Prince
Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon. Hell, I don't even own my own inner voice, ^-^. Frederick: That's right, I've been copyrighted. The Brat Prince: Sugar, stop rubbing it in. Anyways, don't sue. I'm broke. But feel free to donate money. (A girl can hope, right?)
He watched the firefly dance in and out of the shadows, weaving a web reminiscent of a spider's, only it was a web intangible to the senses, glimpses of light that vanished when examined closely.
It was interesting of course, the way the little bug was able to just fly around, carefree. Nothing in the world could stop it's beautiful flight, nothing except a little child with a tiny glass jar clutched in it's grubby fingers, laughing loudly as it chased the creature, trying to grasp it's magic. He had done that with Takeru when he was young, still thinking the world had so much in store for him, so many adventures to be had. So many unexplained things, things science and school would teach him eventually. Things that would eventually lose their luster, their charm.
Only in high school, and a true cynacist. He wished he could go back to the time before the Digiworld had dropped the burden of responsibility in his 11 year old lap and catch fireflies with Takeru again.
At 17, Yamato Ishida was every girl's dream date, every guys idol. He had anything and everything he could ever want on the outside. The perfect family once again, the perfect, equally idolized little brother and successful journalist parents; never mind one worked for a TV station and one for a magazine, they were both 'journalists'. The perfect girlfriend, up and coming tennis player and ambitious fashion designer Sora Takenouchi. And the perfect best friend, junior soccer team national champion, Taichi Yagami. Of course Yamato himself had his own perfectly laid out career as a rock musician.
It was all shit. Sure, Yamato's parents had gotten back together, but not for real. They did love each other, they really did. It would just never work out, they were too different. They had only gotten back together for Yamato's career, to make him look better. It had only made things worse though. His dad drank more than ever, came home smelling like sex and cheap perfume every night. His mom had taken up smoking, and couldn't stand being in the house. She'd leave for weeks, leaving Yamato to take care of everything. Otherwise the laundry would never get done, and TK and his dad would never be fed.
Takeru himself was going through some hard times. He was the star basketball player, but he wasn't invincible. His parents had driven him to hang out with a bad crowd, and he had gotten involved with some pretty heavy drugs. Just recently had Yamato found out, enrolling him in special courses to handle the problem rather than send him away for rehabilitation. They didn't have the money anyways, their dad had spent it all. In fact, Yamato wasn't even sure Mr. Ishida knew about TK's problem.
As for Sora, she was the wicked bitch of the far east. Stupid witch had blackmailed him into dating her when she had found out a little too much about his personal life. Then, what with his family, and TK she just had more and more on him. He hated her. At any rate, she had originally done it on some sick grounds of love, more like obsession, and then the obsession became need. She was quickly losing popularity on the tennis courts, too aggressive and oft times cruel. Her fashion designs, although appreciated by their strange, whimsical art teacher, were too ugly to be accepted in normal society. So she hung on the outskirts of Matt's inner circle until she was able to trick him into needing her too, or at least needing her silence.
Sometimes Yamato wished they had never left the digiworld, where Takeru had still been his sweet, innocent little brother and Sora had been her kind, caring self. Where his feelings for Taichi had not been so strong, and so strongly returned.
That's right. He, Yamato Ishida, and his best friend, Taichi Yagami, were not just friends. They were lovers. As in they were in love.
Sora would have had a fit had she known. But that wasn't the whole story. The guys who had gotten TK into drugs...they were on Tai's soccer team. They were Taichi's friends. One of them was Taichi. It killed him every time he thought about it. Tai insisted he was getting help. Constantly. And one look into his soft, doe-like eyes made Yamato melt, like the melted chocolate color he saw reflected there. No matter what, Yamato couldn't not believe his love. Even when he saw him in the halls, laughing with his friends, beautiful orbs so obviously vacant, soul soaring to heights he couldn't see from induced illusions. Music was Yamato's only salvation from the hell he knew.
What had driven him to it, he would never know. In a way, Taichi, Sora and all of Yamato's family were like fireflies, once so carefree, but now caught in a little glass cage, and with time, the few air holes they had wouldn't be sufficient. They'd just...die.
************************************************************************
"Yamato! Where are you?" Sora's shrill voice demanded loudly over the answering machine. Yamato sighed, vaguely recalling a dream he had about fireflies and Gabumon, his dear friend Gabumon whom he missed so very much. He picked up the phone, immediately knowing he was going to regret it.
"Sora," He said slowly, "It's nice to talk to you too," He grimaced, knowing exactly how much she would bitch over that statement. She did, quite loudly.
"Where the hell are you Yamato Ishida? You were supposed to pick me up over an hour ago! Do you know we have a totally important appearance at the Takaguchi party to make? What were you thinking?" She yelled, "That whore Mimi will get all the attention now!"
Mimi had moved back to Japan in their senior year. She had tried to make friends with Sora again, but the redhead had been too far gone into her own selfishness. Mimi was definitely not a whore or a slut or any of the other mean names Sora called her- she at least had still kept to her old, sweet, innocent personality. Everyone at school worshipped her charm, which matched only Hikari Yagami's in the grammar school. And even she was starting to turn to Sora's ways- setting Takeru and Daisuke up against each other- she was one of the things that had driven TK to what he did. Only she didn't know it, and unlike Sora would probably feel terrible if she did.
"Uh...Sorry?" Matt asked weakly. He wasn't up to dealing with Sora right now. What he really wanted was to go back to sleep, to dream about fireflies and Taichi and Takeru and the Digiworld. He wanted reality to leave him alone.
Reality wasn't very acquiescent. Sigh. Neither was Sora's shrill voice. "Sora, babe. I'll be there soon. Let me get dressed. Band practice was harsh-" The sound of a dial tone met his ears. Sora had hung up. She never wanted to hear about Yamato's life. After all, he was just eye candy.
Languidly, Yamato got up, smoothing out his silky black satin sheets. He threw on a pair of silky boxers, a matching silky black shirt, and his usual tight black jeans. Originally, the damned jeans had been uncomfortable, but his manager had told him he looked sexy in them, that it was good for promotional purposes. He hadn't known whether to agree or run away.
Taking a glance in the mirror, Matt realized he didn't really care much what he looked like any more. The bags beneath his eyes could be hidden by makeup, the loose silk covered his exposed ribs. His hair was the only thing he had to maintain, keeping it glossy with lots of washing. He didn't feel like gelling it into perfect spikes, and it was only Sora and the rest of the school after all. Not Taichi. He was away at rehab. His Taichi.
He grabbed a leather coat and stepped into the cool night air, absently fingering his small silver earring. It bothered him sometimes that he'd gotten it for promotional stuff, but Tai had told him he looked cuter with it, and that was all that mattered. Not what fans thought. Fans only brought him money, not love. Love was what Tai had put into the necklace Yamato wore on a small silver chain around his neck- a little silver pendant, a small silver wolf head.
Walking to Sora's house was easier than driving- she only lived a few blocks down. But she'd be pissed if he didn't drive his ice blue Mercedes convertible over there. Had to show up in style, right?
She walked out like the queen of all things damned, head high, proud, evil glinting in her beady red eyes. Her red hair was longer now, down to her shoulders. She wore it loose, in diamond barrettes. More like rhinestones, but who cared? They were in high school after all. Her dress was low cut, slinky, and red. Always red, like blood. Yamato figured if she had been bored a Digimon, she'd have been a vampire. Like Myotismon. Red fit her well.
"M'lady," He said dryly, holding the door open. She shot him a glare. They drove in silence, neither really feeling like conversing. It was mutually beneficial to their lives if they kept quiet.
They reached the party, in a small apartment in Narita that held too many people for it's own good. Music was throbbing from every crevice, every doorframe. Beautiful, glorious, pulsing music. The music that had saved Matt from suicide thousands of thousands of times. He had never seriously considered it, because when he started too, he thought of his music.
Laughing, genuinely, Matt dragged Sora onto the dance floor of wiggling, writhing, sweaty bodies. Dancing was the only thing they had in common- they both kicked ass at it. She was surprised, but she instantly covered it, pressing her body close to his, sultrily pursing her lips and shaking her hips. Her sinuous curves attracted the eyes of all the guys in the room, and that was the way she liked it.
Matt caught glimpse of Mimi in the midst of his euphoria, standing by the mini bar with two familiar looking young men. She looked gorgeous, as always, yet very very alone with all the guys drooling over her ex-best friend. Her white lace, off the shoulder dress set off her tanned skin, and pooled around her thighs like clouds. She grinned and waves, as did the two handsome young men, both dressed very snazzy. One, tall, with short purple hair was dressed in a starched white shirt and black pants that made him look...mysterious? And the other, decked out in khakis and an orange silk shirt that offset his spiky auburn hair looked almost adorable. Magickal. Like a firefly.
Sora had caught sight of Mimi too, even with the throbbing strobe lights and mass of bodies blocking her view. Her dancing started getting even more risqué, more like a girl trying to make another girl jealous. Yamato didn't like it.
He tried to break free, but found it difficult. Eventually he succeeded, leaving Sora in the hands- literally, of their oh-so-gracious guest Kiani Takaguchi. He walked over to Mimi, who curtsied, giggling. She gave him a sympathetic look when he glanced back at Sora, who was glaring again. She never stopped.
"So, Meems, who're your friends?" Yamato asked, nodding politely to them, although he had a feeling he knew them. So familiar. The one in orange looked so much like a firefly under the strange lighting.
"Yama-chan? Have you forgotten? Our dear Daisuke and Ken?" Yamato could have slapped himself. Of course. He had known that. Why hadn't he remembered? Even if he hadn't seen any of them since he had first started dating Tai.
"Yamato-san," Ken bowed respectfully, "Hey Ken. Like the new do," Matt replied, gesturing to his short hair.
"It ain't that new," Daisuke said gruffly, "But you would know that if you kept in touch, wouldn't you?" He asked meanly.
Fireflies would never be so cruel, "Dai-chan! Yama-chan's had things on his mind." Mimi exclaimed, always the peacemaker.
"Yeah, like TS's fast recovery?" Daisuke growled, shocking Yamato, "How did you know?" He whispered, pale.
"Yamato, everyone knows. You didn't think it was a secret did you? He's been out of school for weeks. Last we saw him he was with Taichi. Didn't you know?" Ken asked softly, uncertainly.
"No. Tai's in rehab. You're lying!" Yamato felt his heart breaking for the upteenth time. Ken wasn't lying of course. Ken never lied. And of course Yamato knew. He had disillusioned himself so much, but he saw when his brother came home late from his addict's meetings, smelling like his own father when he came back from the bars. Drugs, sex, alcohol. But Matt didn't want to deal with it. The fact that Takeru would lie to him.
"No." Daisuke glared at him, a fiery, pure, innocent glare. Like a firefly.
************************************************************************
(Ah. Sorry. I'm lazy. I cut it here. I could have made it a cliffhanger. But I didn't. Again. Sorry. It's late.
Chibi-Lestat: Duh.
Chibi-Armand: Chibi-Armand sleepy now.
The Brat Prince: I know, I know. ^-^ Sorry.
Chibi-Lestat: Stop apologizing.
Chibi-Yamato: *grumble* stop making Yamasuke fics. And Taito fics. And fics in general.
The Brat Prince: :P No. Bye! R+R pllllllleeeeeeeeeeeeeeaasssssssssssssse???!! Be nice!)