4655
Bura-sama
Monday.December.31.2001
Wednesday.January.2.2002

Disclaimer: Digimon belongs in no way to me. I'm making no profit from this freaky story. Really, I'm not. I don't own the characters, I'm merely using them for my sick and twisted fantasies, and no infringement is intended.

Warnings: This fic features character death, broken promises, and cold weather. I have no knowledge of winter in Japan or funeral services, so any inaccuracies are on my part only. I know nothing of Takeru ice-skating or liking snow. There are no romantic relationships in this fic. Mimi flirting with Yamato signifies nothing. You have been warned, and any damage you receive is strictly your own fault.

Note: Italics are either emphasis and thought or flashback (yes, there is one flashback in this... sorry.)
I personally think this is a hilarious fic, but I've learned my lesson about rating death fics 'G' humor.
Imply what you wish from the ending. I don't really care.

Winter's Sorrow

"I love watching the snow fall..." Thirteen year-old Takaishi Takeru looked up into the almost gray clouds that were smeared across the sky. He stopped walking and smiled as the fluffy flakes landed on his face and melted. He closed his eyes and listened to the wind as it whipped up more snow against his body.

"Takeru... are you okay?" It was a rather pointless question, and Yagami Hikari knew it, but it didn't stop her from asking. Takeru jammed his hands in his pockets and jogged the short distance she had walked ahead of them. They walked in silence until Hikari sneezed, "I think I'm getting a cold." She huddled deeper inside her coat, and looked over to her best friend, "What's with you and snow, anyway?"

Takeru looked up at her and smiled, "It reminds me of when I still had a family. Yamato and I would make snow angels, play in the snow, drink hot chocolate, and just laugh. We were happy back then."

"I remember when Taichi went out barefoot in the snow and was sick for a week. We didn't really play in the snow together all that much when I was younger." She rubbed the back of her hand along her nose, trying desperately not to sneeze. "So, you and Yamato don't make snow angels anymore?" She asked with a teasing grin.

Takeru shook his head sadly, then brightened, "Though I think I'm going to ask him to go ice-skating with me later on this week."

Hikari smiled, "You skate?"

Takeru looked almost offended. "Yes, I skate. Yamato taught me how years ago."

Hikari grew silent, then hesitantly asked, "Could you teach me how?" Takeru looked at her in surprise. "I've always wanted to learn."

---

Ishida Yamato snapped the last case shut, and sealed up his guitar. Practice had run over again, and he was late enough as it was. He took a short breath and looked out the window. It was starting to snow. He supposed there was once a time when he had liked the snow -- as a child maybe when he had spent time with Takeru building snowmen in the park and having snowball fights. He cherished those warm memories in the far corner in his heart that no longer cherished the snow and all it brought.

He looked back up to the clumps of white falling past the window. "Wonderful."

"What? Don't you like the snow?" Yamato didn't bother to turn around and look to see who had spoken. It could have been one of the band members, it could have been an adoring fan who liked to watch them practice, it could have been the late-afternoon janitor who cleaned up the place they had rented for the really important practices right before shows. It didn't matter who had spoken, it was out in the air, expecting and not expecting an answer.

Yamato watched as a flake landed against the window and melted. "No, it carries too many bad memories." He could see it every time he closed his eyes. He could see the snow falling, see his parents arguing, see his little brother crying and praying that everything would be okay. He hated those memories, tried his best to keep them locked away. His breath fogged up against the cool window, and he wiped it away with his hand. "I hate the snow."

---

Early morning sunlight filtered in through the open windows, the only witness as Takeru groaned and rolled out of bed. Landing on the floor with a hard thump, he sighed to himself and ran a hand through sleep-tussled hair. Briefly wondering why the window was open, he groggily wandered over to it. He flinched when he realized it was firmly shut. He looked out past the poorly closed blinds, and smiled with happiness as his eyes fell upon the thick blanket of snow covering the ground. He looked at his clock: 7:24. Racing out of his room with all the enthusiasm of a small child on Christmas morning, he paused only long enough to tug on his jacket and shoes. He raced down to the elevator, and waited impatiently for the machine to reach the bottom floor. As soon as it did, he was out the door and into the gleaming sunlight reflecting off of the snowfall.

Takeru reached down and scooped up a handful of snow, making sure that it was real as it chilled and melted against his ungloved hands. He grinned brightly, then raced back into the apartment building. The elevator ride seemed to take even longer on the way up, but soon enough he was opening the door to the apartment he shared with his mother and slipping off his shoes beside the door. He ran down to his mother's room and cracked open her door. She was still asleep. He gently closed the door and walked over to the phone. Dialing a number he knew by heart, he waited impatiently for the phone to ring.

After three rings, he was greeted by a familiar voice, "Ishida,"

Takeru grinned, "Yamato! It's snowing!" He was not to be deterred by the silence that followed his obvious statement.

One, two, three... "Takeru... do you have any idea what time it is?" His brother sounded like he hadn't really woken up yet.

"Yeah! It's 7:35... and it's snowing!!" He hoped his brother could see his grin through the phone. He got the feeling that his brother wasn't grinning on the other end of the line.

"Takeru..."

"Will you go ice-skating with me tomorrow afternoon?" He tried to keep the excitement out of his voice, but was sure he had failed miserably.

"Yes. Sure. Fine." He paused, "Whatever, now let me go back to bed." Takeru could easily tell that his brother had that teasing annoyance on his face.

"Tomorrow, 3:00, at that old fishpond in the park." Takeru seemed to radiate happiness. Promise?"

He could hear Yamato yawn, "Yeah, I promise."

Takeru let the phone fall back down to the cradle, looked down at his pajamas, and ran back to his room to get dressed.

---

"Takeru!" his mother called from somewhere in the kitchen. Takeru stick his head out of his bedroom door, grabbed an apple from the table, and waited for his mother to continue. "Could you run some errands for me?" She held out a list without even waiting for his reply. Takeru nodded just for the sake of nodding, and took the list from his mother's hand. He glanced down at it and then took the money he hadn't even known she was holding out for him. He hated grocery shopping.

Takeru stopped himself from interrupting his mother as she walked over to her computer and started typing again, and merely watched as a seemingly endless stream of words left her fingertips and appeared on the screen. His gaze shifted to the window, and the bitter taste of disappointment wormed its way into his mouth as he realized he couldn't see the snow fall from the angle he was standing at. If he closed his eyes, Takeru found he could see the snow falling, from memory and imagination. He waited by his mother's desk until he realized that she had stopped typing and was staring at his dreamy look.

"Honey, was there something you wanted?" She looked at him expectantly, and with a touch of concern.

"Hmm..." He was snapped out of his thoughts and blushed sheepishly at his mother, "Can I go skating this afternoon with Yamato?" It was kind of late to ask, but permission was better late than never. His mother was frowning -- not a good sign. "I promise not to stay too long, and be back in time for supper."

She bit her lip and looked at him for a moment, "You know I don't like you on that old fishpond; it's not safe."

Takeru felt tears glistening in his eyes, "Please Mom, Yamato and I never get to spend time with each other anymore!"

She sighed and went back to her typing, "I suppose." Takeru burst out into a huge grin. She watched him race toward the door and called out to him as an afterthought, "But be careful!"

He paused as he opened the door and put on his shoes, "I promise!"

---

Yamato looked up as he felt a shadow looming over him. Pretty brown hair and pretty brown eyes looked down at him. Tachikawa Mimi. He smiled slightly. He knew why she was there. She was wearing a navy blue miniskirt and a white halter top. She smiled down at him and batted her eyelashes, "Yamato, are you going to be practicing with your band today?" She giggled at him flirtatiously.

Yamato looked down to his watch. He had four hours till he was supposed to meet up with Takeru. He had time enough for a quick practice. He glanced toward the window, taking in the snow-cleared streets and light wind blew through the trees. It wasn't bad out, and he could easily make it to the park where Takeru wanted to skate without spending too much time on the road. Besides, Mimi wanted to watch them -- what harm could possibly come from staying with his band for a few hours?

Realizing she was waiting for him to make some sort of comment, so he smiled lightly, "Sure. Do you want to come?"

---

"Do you want to grab something to eat before you head home with everything?" Hikari let the bag of groceries slap against her leg as she walked alongside Takeru. She stuffed her free hand into her coat pocket, and tried not to watch as her breath crystallized in the cold air.

Takeru was carrying a grocery bag in one hand and a sealed box with his mother's name on it in the other arm. After a chance meeting in a grocery store with both Hikari and Daisuke, Takeru had been accompanied by both of them as he completed the rest of his errands. Now, they were standing in front of her apartment building, bodies almost touching to help conserve heat. Daisuke was glaring at him and stamping his foot on the ground from the cold. Takeru glanced up to the floor where he knew the Yagami's apartment to be, and mentally calculated what time he had left before he needed to meet his brother at the park...

"Takeru...?"

"I'm going skating with Yamato in a few hours, and I still need to do some stuff," he paused and his smile brightened. "I appreciate the offer, though." Daisuke beamed. Hikari groaned, and Takeru started to say something, but stopped when he watched her shake. "What's wrong?"

She paused, hesitated and shook her head to herself. "I... I don't know what came over me... I just..." She shook off the bad feeling but her smile was weak. "I just got a weird feeling, the proverbial chill down the spine."

Daisuke blinked, and frowned at the odd situation. He started to speak, but his stomach growled and everyone laughed. It was the last moment they ever shared that way.

---

Snuggly tying his scarf around his neck and jerking his thick winter coat down past the top of his flannel-lined pants, Takeru grabbed his ice-skates and headed out the door. He stuffed a piece of toast into his mouth that was leftover from earlier that morning, and headed down to the elevator. Half-eating the bread, he reached for his cell phone as the elevator neared the end of its descent. Stepping out of the elevator, he dialed his brother's cell phone number and groaned to himself as he got his voice mail.

"Yamato, it's Takeru. Don't forget, one hour!"

They were the last words Yamato ever heard his brother say.

---

The wind was still a numbing cold when Takeru arrived at the park where he was going skating. It was a little known place, with fishpond in the middle surrounded by a ring of shrubs. As he arrived, a couple was just finishing their skating, and gave a friendly wave when they saw him. He waved in return and walked over to the park bench. He brushed off a little snow, then plopped down and looked at his watch. Yamato was supposed to be there in fifteen minutes.

He wasn't foolish enough to skate by himself, a lesson in safety that never let him do something stupid. The sun was high in the sky, reflecting down on the ice -- making it seem so inviting. His breath steamed in front of his face, and Takeru pulled off his gloves and blew on his hands in an effort to keep them warm. As he waited, the scarf around his neck seemed to itch no matter which way he adjusted it -- despite knowing the fact that it had never itched in the seven years he'd had it since his grandmother had made it for him. Cold seemed to creep in through his clothes no matter how hard he tried to stop it and he could feel his body growing numb.

He looked down to his watch. Yamato was fifteen minutes late.

It wasn't supposed to be this cold... Stiffly getting up, he laced up his ice-skates and moved to the edge of the pond. He didn't worry about skating near the edge, it was safest there. His body started to warm up as he moved across the ice, returning feeling to his numb feet. He looked down to his skates, listening to the ice cutting beneath his feet.

The boy was crying, his tears running down from his eyes and landing with fat drops on his feet. With a chubby hand, he reached down in a paper bag and pulled out a handful of bread crumbs. He threw them into the water, and wiped away his tears on the back of his arm. The big goldfish in the pond greedily gulped up the bread. He threw another handful of crumbles into the pond.

"I don't want Mommy and Daddy to move away..." He sniffled and turned to the older boy sitting beside of him. "I don't want you to leave me..."

The older boy reached into the bag of bread crumbs and threw a handful further into the pond. The ducks on the other side flocked around the little fish that had come to eat the food. "Takeru..." He hugged the smaller child and then turned back to the water. "I'm your brother, we'll always be together. Just because Mom and Dad don't love each other anymore doesn't mean we won't see each other." The younger boy had stopped crying. His brother hugged him again, "I'll always be there for you..."

More and more it felt as if he was drifting away from his brother. They hardly ever spent time together, their talks became few and far between, and Yamato spent almost all of his free time with his band. Once -- it seemed like such a long time ago -- he was close to his brother; they were inseparable. Now, they acted more like acquaintances, stranger who barely knew each other.

He glanced back to his watch. Yamato was thirty minutes late.

He chanced a look to the ice below him. He was near the middle of the pond. Almost panicking, he looked around frantically to the edges of the pond. They all seemed so distant. The ice was thinner in the middle, and Takeru could see the water moving beneath him. As gently as possible, he tried to move backwards. The ice cracked with a sickeningly sweet crunch and spider web cracks appeared under him. Another crack. An almost hissing sound as he watched water bubble up through the fissures. His legs seemed frozen in place. He tried to move, but his body wasn't listening to him.

"Somebody help me..." It came out as a whisper. His knees seemed to shake. "Someone please help me." It was a little louder -- not enough to be noticed. "Please!" Shouting now. "Please get me off of here!" More cracks appeared around him, and he could feel the ice begin to sway under his feet. "Help me!!" His fingers were trembling as he tried to move away from the thin ice.

His legs fell out from under him, and he landed with a definitive thud on the already fractured ice. The cracks multiplied in frequency and intensity, and Takeru could start to feel water seeping in through his clothes. Scrambling to his knees, he tried to crawl across the ice to safety...

He screamed as the ice beneath his knees collapsed, sending his lower half into the icy water and large slices of ice up into the air. The coldness swept across his skin like a fever. He desperately tried to claw at the ice, searching for anything he could hold onto. "Please help me! Somebody!" Every place he grabbed crumbled beneath his ungloved hands. "... Anybody..." His voice had died down to a whisper. The water was so cold. Finally finding a sturdy chunk to grasp, he tried to push himself out. His body wouldn't move. He couldn't feel his body... his fingers were a plaster white -- almost blue. He looked down to his watch. He had been in the water no more than seven minutes.

He was dying. He could feel his body slowing down... his mind growing more and more detached. He couldn't pull himself up, could only desperately hold onto the icy wall. He could feel the water slapping against his neck, making what little dry skin he had chill in the winter air. His fingers were slipping off the ice, burning with a numbness that was consuming his whole body.

"Please... God..." He tried to kick his legs but they were dead weight. "Please s-s-somebody... h-help m-m-me." His whispers went unheard. Without thought, he looked to his watch again.

Yamato was forty minutes late.

Yamato wasn't coming.

Takeru let go of the ice.

---

Yamato shrugged out of his coat and shoes and deposited them next to the door as he walked into his apartment. His father was working late again, and his practice had lasted well over five hours. After that, he had gone out to eat with Mimi, and then to a movie. He collapsed on the couch, and with a groan spotted the flashing red light on the answering machine. Deciding that he didn't have enough energy to check the messages, he squinted up at the overhead light and threw his hands over his face.

The phone rang. Yamato ignored it. Eventually, the annoying shriek died down, only to be replaced with his cellular phone's call. Deciding that it must be of some importance to someone he knew well enough to give out his cell phone number to, he summoned up the energy to reach for his phone. It stopped ringing. He hit the 'play' button on the answering machine and walked into the kitchen to get a bottle of orange juice.

"Yamato!" Two voices sang out of the machine: Taichi and Sora.
"Do you want to double date with us tonight?" This time it was Taichi.
"I know this really cute blond you'd love to meet!" Sora was grinning into the phone -- he was sure of it.
"Call us back if you get home before five!"
Click.

"Hello, Ishisa family." A telemarketer. Yamato groaned and started drinking his juice.
"We have a great deal on life insurance just for you --" He tuned out the rest of the offer.

"Yamato! This is your mother." There was something wrong in her voice.
"Is Takeru still with you? I'm starting to get worried --"

Yamato choked on his juice and dropped the bottle with a thud. Takeru. He'd forgotten all about meeting his little brother. He ran over to the phone as the next message cut on.

"Yamato, please call me when you get back. Takeru promised to be home twenty minutes ago. I can't get either of you on your cell phones --"

Yamato picked up the phone and dialed his mother's number. She picked up on the first ring. "Mom! Has --"

Takeru was home. Takeru was home. Takeru was home. The wish fell on deaf ears and the bitter truth eased in. Takeru wasn't home yet.

"Yamato, oh thank God. I was so worried..."

"Mom, Takeru and I didn't go skating! I haven't seen him all day!" Worry and panic crept up from the phone and wrapped itself around him like a cold blanket.

"What...? What do you mean? He told me this morning the two of you were going skating --"

"Something came up! I'm going to go look for him, call some of his friends to see if he's there instead!"

Click. Yamato raced to the door and scrambled to get his coat and shoes on. He grabbed his cell phone and started calling Takeru's number.

---

Dusk was settling into the sky around the park as Yamato came to a skidding halt on a patch of ice. He groped for balance, and then continued his run. He knew his destination: the fishpond dead center in the middle with the hand-painted wooden sign 'Piscina' staked in the ground in front of it.

He dialed Takeru's number, and heard it ringing a short distance away. "Takeru!!" He looked around the park, catching no sign of his little brother. "TAKERU!!" There was no reply. He half-ran-half-jogged to the pond, and heard Takeru's cell phone ringing on a park bench. Going over there, he discovered the said cell phone and a pair of gloves. Dread worked its way into his stomach. He was going to be sick. Takeru's bag was propped up against the bench, his regular shoes and a packed lunch inside. "Takeru! Answer me!"

He looked out across the ice, a knot of nausea twisting in his gut. He saw something on the ice, and immediately started to run there. Takeru wouldn't skate by himself... Takeru wouldn't skate by himself...

He would if thought you were going to show up in a few minutes... The snide voice inside whispered.

He slipped on the ice and slid across till he was somewhere near the middle. The object in question became nearer and nearer... Yamato almost retched as he realized what it was. His scarf. Takeru's scarf that their grandmother had hand-stitched for him when he was six. Takeru loved that scarf... The ice was the next thing he noticed. Several shards of ice were lying on the solid sheet below him, frozen in place. The water shining with the fading sunlight caused the knot in his stomach to do a painful twist. Throwing caution aside, he moved to the thin spot in the middle as fast as the ice could slide him, and he looked down.

A pale blue hand and dull blond locks were pushed against the ice that had already frozen over the hole where his brother had fallen.

Yamato beat his hand against the ice, desperately trying to break it apart. It wouldn't budge. "... Takeru..." Tears welled up in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. He collapsed against the ice, part of his mind still reeling in shock, the other part wondering why Takeru was floating against the surface. With numb hands and a detached mind, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed the only number he could think of.

The phone rang. And it rang. And it --

"... Ishida."

"Dad. Takeru's dead."

"Yamato? What are you talking about?"

"He fell through the ice and died and now he isn't here anymore and it's all my fault 'cause I wasn't there to go skating with him like I promised I would and now he's dead because of me and he's not coming back and it's my fault because he depended on me and I let him down and my little brother is dead --"

"What?!" Some small part of his mind realized that he need to get some sort of help, and his father was not the person to give it. "Yamato, start over and go slower --"

The phone landed on the ice with a sharp click as Yamato broke out into muffled screams and sobs.

---

He wasn't quite sure when the ambulance came. Whatever small part of his brain that wasn't frozen in shock realized that his father must have called his mother to find out what he had been saying, and she would know, and she would call the ambulance.

"... Sir, what's your name?" He dimly realized that they were talking to him. He stared up blankly, unable to answer. He looked back across the ice. They had moved him when they had arrived, wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and told him that he was in shock. The ambulance team was still there, along with the firefighters and that police. All of them working on a way to get his dear, sweet little brother out of his icy tomb. The firefighter in front of him gently squeezed his shoulder, "Sir, we need your name."

"Ishida Yamato." He didn't turn around to see his father standing behind him. He could all too well imagine the scene. He would be standing there, that tired expression on his face, his jacket draped over his shoulders and not on, despite the cold. He had seen him, and his mother, earlier talking with the police and his mother crying. Yamato had stopped crying some time ago. Had merely sat on the cold ice and listened to the dead signal from his phone.

"We've got it!" he turned to look at the firefighter who had just thrown a large slab of ice away from the immediate area. They reached into the water and pulled out an arm, and then another, and then his head came up along with the rest of his body. And they checked his pulse just for the record while the whole time they were shaking their heads and signaling for a stretcher. He heard his father gasp from behind him, his mother break out into a fresh wave of tears. Yamato just closed his eyes and started hiccupping.

---

He'd never been good at funerals, he reflected with a bitter feeling. Everyone was wearing black, standing around the grave of the boy that they had all agreed had been ripped away from them all too soon. All of his friends were there, giving him sympathetic looks and whispering that it was all his fault when they thought he wasn't listening. People that had known Takeru from school, people he couldn't place a name to, were gawking as the casket was lowered into the ground. His parents were standing on opposite sides, both with that dull and helpless look.

He looked down to the fresh dirt clinging to the sides of his shoes. A snowflake fell against the black leather and instantly melted. They'd just finished packing that last bit of dirt away. And with that, Takaishi Takeru was no more. He looked up to the polished headstone: Son, brother, friend... and so much more.

He had been so much, so damn much to so many people, and with one broken promise, he had taken that away. His little brother, the one he had vowed always to look after was forever gone, and it was all his fault. If he hadn't practiced with his band, if he hadn't forgotten his promise...

"I'll always be there for you..."

Liar.

Taichi had walked up next to him, "I know this is going to sound stupid, but are you going to be okay?" The snow started to come down a little faster, melting in his friend's hair.

Yamato looked up with eyes not quite his own, "I love the snow."

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owari