One-sided Daikari, Takari mentioning, Kensuke hints (this means shounen ai, boy x boy love. don't like, close this window!) I don't own Digimon, not the characters mentioned.
Flying on Glass Wings
by Natsumi
One day, I looked up at the sky and I saw two angels fly by. They were beautiful and perfect, everyone who looked upon them couldn't help but sigh. "How sweet." They said. "They were meant for each other."
I think I know why so many people loved those two angels so much. They brought hope and light whenever they flew over us, deigning to grace us with their perfection. These two angels brought back the ideals of childhood, lost innocence and dreams, the sweetness of young love. They liked it so much that they fell in love with the idea of it.
I know I fell in love with the idea of her.
I envied them, perfect and secure in the knowledge that they had each other, a flying mate. They were so free basking in the sunlight and traveling with the winds. Nothing could touch their golden perfection, no not us mere mortals who scrabble and fight each other for the chance to catch one of their falling angel feathers, to catch a dream.
And what was I but a pathetic earthbound creature, only meant to look up at them. And to wish.
But I was more ambitious than that. My dreams would turn into dust if I didn't fight for it. After all, dreams are only fragile if you don't turn them into reality.
I wondered what it would be like to fly with them, with HER. To be the one receiving her smile, holding her hand as we flew, dancing with the sky as our palace ballroom, listening to the symphony of birds, sunlight gilding us until we became radiant sprites.
Forgive me if I lapse into my fantasies and prattle on. You see the long days and nights are spent in my dreamworld, where I was with her, her the rainbowspun angel, the essence of all that was good and beautiful.
Sometimes I run, you know. I run through the fields, as fast as I could. And as I felt the wind whipping through my hair and at my clothes, I could pretend that I was flying. Was that how it was for them? No, I don't think so, no wind would dare caress them with more than a gentle breeze, like a lover's soothing touch,
Sometimes I would run quickly, until I reached my favorite spot, where the fields jutted off a low ridge. Running as quickly as I could, when I reached the edge, I would jump and for a few magic seconds in the air, I AM flying. It was worth every scrape and bruise I ever got when I landed badly.
I told this one day to a friend of mine. Few people ever tried to get close to him, to really know him, content to simply look upon him, He is beautiful, you see. So very beautiful. But he wasn't joyful, not like the angels I so loved to watch. He had this air about him, like perfection painted over fine blue and white porcelain china, fragile and achingly lovely.
I think he was one of them once. One of the angels that had flown high, and arrogantly, until they tried to touch the sun and their wings burned off. Like that mythical boy, Icarus. He just came to us one day, with a sorrowful smile. He had fallen, learned too late the price for arrogance. He never told us his name, so I simply called him Icarus.
I try to imagine him with wings, once in a while. I would take out my precious feather, an angel feather that she had dropped, and which I treasured, and try to picture him in my mind. Strange, but those pure white wings never seemed to suit him, in my imaginings. No, I think his wings would be violet, like his hair, like his eyes, mournful and grieving. The color of repentance and of contrition. The color of royalty.
There I go again, wandering off to another path. It's just that I like to think of him, my Icarus.
So one day, I spoke to him about it. At first I tried to speak of it in general terms. I spoke of dreams, of wishes, but he knew me too well, my Icarus. He gave me that smile of his, shy and mysterious and looked so knowing, that I blushed. Maybe I blushed for other reasons…I was the only one he smiled at after all.
My Icarus told me that dreams were wonderful things, that they painted our heart and our world with brilliant colors. His eyes took on a distant look, and I knew then, that he was thinking of his own dreams. I wanted to ask him, what his wishes were, but he spoke up before I could. He told me that I should not continue with just wishful thinking. And he looked so sad then, so I asked him why. He whispered something about my wish taking me away from him, but that was silly.
So I told him, that one day, I would fly. Fly across the land, smug as I soared across the sky, proud wings splitting through the air. It felt wonderful, being able to share this dream with someone, someone who understood and encouraged me.
And so I dared. It took me weeks, collecting the angel feathers that fell whenever they passed. I couldn't fly, not without wings, so I would make my own. It seems foolish now, but not very surprising. I am not the kind of person to give up easily, and I was willing to use unconventional means.
But the angel feathers weren't enough. They didn't hold, as I ran, feather by feather they were lost, leaving a forlorn dreamer. And my dreams were scattered, like the wingdrops that I lost.
When I returned to town, the people there mocked me and laughed at me. How dare I even think to fly with the angels? To ruin the beauty and purity of the heavenly creatures. Each word struck a blow to my already wounded heart, and it was all I could do to not break down and weep before them. So I walked by them, trying ignore their jeers. Fool, idiot, soft-headed, halfwit. They couldn't call me a name that I hadn't already called myself though.
So I went to my favorite field, and lay there. Before I slept, I felt tears trickle from my eyes as I looked at the darkened sky. And for once, in my dreams, I didn't see an angel flying. Instead, I saw beautiful violet eyes, that told me not to stop dreaming.
I woke up, feeling fingers brushing against my cheeks. It was my Icarus, his skin felt like silk as he traced the track of my tears on my cheeks. He watched me with serious violet eyes, waiting. I didn't speak, wanting to stay that way. One finger slid over my lips, and I heard him gasp. He moved away to sit beside me, and turned his face up to the sky.
I felt my heart crash with disappointment. And I knew why I felt that way. When he had touched me, I had gotten that same feeling whenever I was in the air for those few seconds. But…
He murmured to me an apology. I asked, what was he apologizing for. He shook his head and said that he knew what it felt like to have lost a dream. Again, I wanted to ask what his dream had been, but he looked so devastated then. Why? For my dream? So I gave a laugh, cheerful and loud, and said that I wasn't going to give up yet. He tilted his head, and looked at me with those bittersweet eyes, and nodded. It was all I needed.
I started collecting angel feathers again, this time, I had learned from my mistake, and was filled with a new determination. Because I wasn't just working for my dream anymore. My Icarus' dream depended on my success too. I wanted to show to him, that dreams could be fulfilled, and he could try again. I so wanted my Icarus to be happy.
I had created these wings made of glass, and used the angel feathers to decorate it. Glass, it was still beautiful, especially when sunlight struck it, and gave off different colors, shining and brilliant with light. And it was stronger than the angel feathers. It would work. It had to.
The people laughed at me again, glass wings! But I ignored them. Only my dream mattered to me now.
I went back to the field. For a few minutes I only stood there, breathing hard. This was it, I would either fly or crash again. Only this time, I wouldn't get up to try again. Anticipation and anxiety warred within me. Finally, I started running.
Over the verdant fields, I ran so quickly, that I would have sworn that my feet barely touched the ground. The endless sea of green beneath me, the cerulean sky above, my glass wings, behind me… and there it was. The ridge was coming up, closer, and closer…the moment of truth had arrived.
I reached the edge and bent my knees and… jumped…
Again I was in the air, but this time I didn't fall. My wings caught the updraft and I *soared*.
I was flying…
If only I could feel like this forever. Those magical seconds were… indescribable.
But the wind could only carry me so far. As my body began to sing with joy, sunlight blinding me, I crashed.
My wings shattered as I hit the ground, and the shards flew, cutting through my skin. And the wind mockingly stole away my angel feathers again. No they weren't MY angel feathers. As they drifted, dancing and whirling before me, I knew in the deepest part of my soul, that I was never meant to fly.
I was shattered, like my glass wings. My dream had been lost, my heart broken, I could only stare up at the sky, feeling this awful hollowness inside me. My dreams had filled me, and the truth had washed it away with the tears I shed.
I had fallen.
I don't know how he knew, but my Icarus came. And like always, whenever we would talk, he sat beside me, and stared up at the sky. I think he knew that I didn't want anyone to look at me at the time. I was on my back, bleeding and broken, vulnerable and shattered. A dreamless fool I may have been, but I still had my pride.
He began to sing, a sorrowful song about a foolish angel. The seraph had once been the proudest and most brilliant of all the angels. And this seraph had a dream too. More than anything, he wanted to touch the sun. He knew it would burn, he knew it would hurt, but he still yearned for it. He *wanted* to be burned. And so one day he did. His wings stretched out behind him, he took off, flying straight to the sun. It became hotter, and hotter, and his gaze was filled with white light, but still he continued. He was an angel, after all, nothing could stop him, he was the mightiest. He reached out to touch the sun, feel it's hot core seething and blazing. He wanted to burn…
And burn he did. His wings caught fire, and he plummeted to the ground, embraced by flames. The song ended with the angel lamenting his arrogance, and yet still… he was happy. He had touched the heart of the sun.
He then looked at me with that strange half-smile of his. And then he told me.
"You are not an angel, my friend. If anything, you are a dragon. Noble, fierce, brave. Be proud as you tread the earth." He knelt beside me, and touched my face, the way he did the morning I had wept.
"My dragon." he whispered. "My sun dragon." His eyes were bright, and I could see that for him, he was touching the heart of the sun again.
I no longer look up at the angels when they pass and wish. Now I simply smile at them, then look at my Icarus and stomp my foot on the earth. The warm, welcoming, nurturing earth. Now I walk on the earth proudly, with my Icarus by my side.
And I will never forget the moment when I had flown on glass wings.
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A/N: So how did you like it? Actually, this was titled "Flying on Glass Wings [or why Natsumi should not be allowed near a keyboard]." Yeanyway, this is the product of one night and one afternoon's work. One night because I first got hit with this before I went to sleep, so I scribbled down the first part of this (up to the bad landings part) then just wrote down what the sun dragon would do (collecting angel feathers. Icarus telling him he was a dragon). And this afternoon when I finally got off my arse and started typing it.
Yes, I am done! My first finished Digimon fic! Okay, so it's not exactly set in the Digimon universe we know and love. Oooooh, AU! *considers turning the whole setting into another story* And yes, I know you really can't fly on glass wings. Don't take this too literally.
I have no idea what possessed me to write it, so don't ask, just review. I'm fairly certain you can figure out who is who in the story just by the descriptions, and the symbolic stuff (angels of light and hope, I mean who didn't see *that* coming?) As I said, one-sided Daikari, Takari, and Kensuke hints *beams* Aaaahhh, Kensuke. I'm thinking of writing a companion fic for this, from Icarus' POV this time, titled "My Sun Dragon" If you couldn't tell, Icarus achieved his dream with Dragon/Daisuke. And the last part about never forgetting when he flew on glass wings, it doesn't mean that he still loves the angel. It just means that he will never forget having worked to fulfill his dream.
Honestly, I hadn't really thought of including Icarus until the very end, after Daisuke's crash with the glass wings... *grins* but Icarus-kun just managed to worm his way into the story somehow... we-ll.
...so feedback, please! I'm addicted to feedback! Especially when they're positive *winks* Seriously, I probably messed this up, and comments are most appreciated. Yeah, I know I probably invented a few words here and there (wingdrops... *grins*) Thank you for reading!
Info on Icarus: He's a figure from Greek mythology. His father was Daedalus, the architect who designed the labyrinth for the Minotaur in Crete. A little background about this. King Minos of Crete had a son Androgeus who died while visiting the Athenian king, Aegeus (source of the name Aegean Sea, mythology-wise). The King Aegeus sent the young Cretan prince out on a dangerous hunt, and when he was killed, King Minos was furious. He demanded a tribute from the Athenians, of 7 youths and maidens and sent them into the labyrinth. This maze contained the Minotaur, a half-bull, half-man monster born from the union of Minos' wife Pasiphae and a bull. This bull was given to Minos by Poseidon so that it would be sacrificed to him, but since Minos did not do so, Poseidon punished him by making his wife fall madly in love with the bull. I did say madly.
The newly recovered prince Theseus, son of Aegeus, had volunteered to be one of those to be sacrificed. Ariadne fell in love with him and so helped him out. (gave him a ball of string to follow if he made the wrong turns etc.) When Minos discovered that the Athenian had escaped the labyrinth (and had killed the Minotaur), he knew that only Daedalus could have helped him. So he imprisoned Daedalus and his son, Icarus in the labyrinth. Daedalus created two pairs of wings for the two of them. Daedalus warned his son to keep a middle course as they flew over the sea. If he flew too high, the wax would melt from his wings, and he would fall. Foolishly, the young Icarus disregarded his father's warning (flying went to his head) and flew up. His wings were destroyed and he fell into the sea. Sad ne?