By Amai
Disclaimer- Digimon and all it's characters are not copyright me, but copyright Toei Animation/Bandai (there probably are others, but I can't remember offhand). I wish they were, but sadly, not all wishes come true. The only thing that's copyright me is this fanfic, so no stealing, kiddies.
Author's Notes- I guess this is the beginning of a semi-series for me. Highlighting things in the digi-destined's (or a least the younger ones hopefully) life. Frankly, I don't like the way this ended. But that's just me. Please read and review!
The boy had picked a perfect spot on the bench to watch him play. Kamiya Taichi. What a wondrous name to the small boy's ears. If there ever was a mortal god, Taichi had to be him. At least that's what it seemed to the seven-nearly-eight year old Motomiya Daisuke. And really, how could it not be true? The boy wondered if he squinted long enough, would he be able to see a halo around Taichi's head? He was so magnificent it was hard to think him human.
Daisuke's legs swung idly along the wooden bench he had chosen to sit on. It was child intuition: The bench was mahogany and his hair was mahogany meaning that if the bench had a perfect view of Taichi playing soccer, so would he. Simple, right? This was that of which was Daisuke's thought process. He never imagined things the same way other people did, yet, it was all correct in itself. An alternate process. Ingenious in its awkward way. Not really saying that Daisuke was a genius, in reality he was far from it. Just a unique child.
And as any seven-nearly-eight year old he had his dreams. And his dreams were to be just the wondrous, beautiful, immortal, utterly perfect Kamiya Taichi. Or at least get somewhere close to that.
But Daisuke was shy, despite his boisterous attitude and seemingly shameless being. He couldn't just walk up to Taichi and talk to him, now could he? He bit his lip, staring as the elder boy made a goal in the dew marinated grass. He was past the age where he could do anything he wanted and not get in trouble, and he knew it. Sure, it was alright getting in trouble with his parents, and his older, bothersome sister Jun, but Taichi? Why, the thought of it was absurd! No. Never. Daisuke had made up his mind that he wouldn't embarrass himself in front of his idol, and once his mind was made up, it was final. He would have to find another way to address his problem, patiently.
Too bad Daisuke wasn't a patient person.
There was rarely a day were he wouldn't go rushing into things, and today proved to be quite that day. He watched on, chocolate eyes wide in admiration as he observed the seemingly professional way that Taichi took the field in his hands, and manipulated it into his own making. Daisuke almost felt embarrassed sitting there watching him. But of course, that didn't last long. As said before, Daisuke was a very shameless boy, holding his head high and taking all of the hits.
Until they started hurting him, of course. Of course, then he would have to use a different method. But the days that they would hurt were not here yet, and he could bask in his lingering proudness for longer.
Reaching up, he felt his unruly mahogany hair and looked at Taichi's chestnut hair, and the goggles that were strapped along his forehead. So that was what he was missing! To his young mind that seemed to be the missing link. But how in the world could he get goggles of his own? Daisuke was yet again in another rut.
His mind solved another equation: The goggles symbolized Taichi. Taichi was god-like. So if he could obtain the unobtainable goggles, he would be god-like as well. Exactly. To Daisuke's seven-nearly-eight year old mind this question was the equivalent to the meaning of life.
Life was to be just as great as Kamiya Taichi.
Daisuke watched until Taichi and the others he was playing against were ready to go. And watched when the left the moist soccer field. Sigh. Yet another day of watching his dreams go by. 'Twas unfair in itself. He looked up to see a leftover from the game he had just watched on the field. A soccer ball, no, the soccer ball that his idol had played with. Of course, if Taichi had played with it, so would Daisuke. It was only the way of nature. He stood up and walked towards the ball expectantly.
Daisuke wasn't really a soccer player himself, so his kicks came out wobbly and careless as he began to kick the ball, trying to at least get close to the skill level of the majestic Taichi. There was once a saying that mentioned "Rome was not built in a Day." Daisuke would learn to appreciate this saying as he toppled on to the soft soil, his soccer playing getting the best of him.
He simply laughed and lifted himself up from the damp below, for that was what shameless people did: laugh at their troubles and try again. If it could get him closer to his goal, then by all means he would try again! Daisuke's build was but still in development, he would need time to perfect his playing. For this child was not one who was originally born of athletics, but of mere stamina. Each time he fell down, he up himself, hoping the next time he would succeed. Although this was not to say he was not disappointed that he wasn't good at this god-like sport the first time around. Being seven-nearly-eight enabled him with thoughts that he could conquer the highest height in a matter of five minutes.
In reality, it took six minutes.
No, Daisuke did not achieve his goal of being the greatest soccer player next to Taichi, but he received a pleasant start to his mission. Only a few words spoken softly granted that wish onto his youthful soul.
"You're pretty good for a l'il guy." Praise the heavens, it was Kamiya Taichi himself. At such a fruitful age, seeing such a person...a celebrity was a miracle to Motomiya Daisuke! So he did what any seven-nearly-eight year old would do.
He flashed an impish grin and said, "I know."
Thus was the start of a friendship that would be branded on Motomiya Daisuke's memory for all eternity.
---
When one grows older, they tend to feel like they have lost something dear to them. The unobtainable had become almost meaningless to Daisuke as he sat, again on the mahogany bench, yet his legs did not swing like they had done earlier in his life. For he was older, stronger, and more confused than he had ever been in his entire life.
Oh, how he missed his days of innocence, when he could do whatever he wanted and not care. Yes, he still carried along with him that dear courage and shamelessness, but it had seemed to...diminish a bit as he carried on into puberty. He had no care then, but now everything seemed to bother him. He bit his lip as he stared yet again at his mentor, Taichi, who still played the fields like he was a god. Of course, now he knew better than to believe that the wild brown haired boy was a god, but it was nice to dream once in a while, right?
It was the only thing left of his infant innocence that he had left.
Daisuke fingered the goggles that now bordered his forehead. The unobtainable were now just a device for unwanted thoughts. For some reason now, not before, now, wearing them seemed like a taboo. They weren't his. They weren't him. Maybe he felt this way because in his attempt to be just like Taichi that he had lost someone that had seemed to be the most important person in his life.
Sigh. Hikari. Sweet, innocent Hikari. Oh how he had courted her in the past, but lost to her true love. Yet, now he wasn't quite sure his new feeling was because of that. It just didn't feel right trying to be Taichi. True, there were sometimes where his actions could be called upon him as being obsessive...when he was smaller...but at now it felt like he was trespassing private property.
He pulled his hand from the goggles and looked at them. Was it so long since those hands were the infantile cubby hands of a child? Flicking his head up, he looked again at Taichi. People spoke of he resembling Taichi, much to his interest, but as the two grew older Daisuke began to notice the definite differences. One tanned hand stroked the mahogany bench's wooden surface. As a seven-nearly-eight year old, he was blind to such things as differences, and tried his hardest to flatten out the differences between he and Taichi. Now, as a seventeen-nearly-eighteen year old he realized how incredibly stupid that was of him.
Elder minds process things different than youthful ones. Daisuke's mind had solved yet another dilemma. He was not Taichi. Thus, he would never be him.
And the irony of it was that at this age he really didn't care.
Mahogany. The color of the bench. The color of his hair. Chestnut. The color of the trees. The color of Taichi's hair. The fact was it was different, unique in its own way. Daisuke had failed to value his own self whilst in the act of valuing someone else. And if there was something that had ever ashamed him, that was it.
Funny, how one could be so innocent and shameless in youth, but when gaining age can grow to be ashamed of the very things they were shameless about. 'Twas confusing, even to Daisuke's elder mind.
He cradled his head in his hands as his mind processed this new information. Shame. Such a new emotion for him. He looked yet again at Taichi's form. 'Twasn't just he who felt shame at his goal to become Taichi, 'twasn't it? He bit his lip. Of course Taichi would be ashamed...who wouldn't? Having someone what to become you? Assimilate your being? Why, of course!
Shaking his head slightly, Daisuke stood up, rather shakily. Walking up to Taichi, he intended to end this silly goal that he had followed since he was a young one.
"Anou...Taichi?" He spoke with such trouble, as if he were shy. Full of innocence like his younger self. No, but even the seven-nearly-eight year old spoke to his idol like they were equal. It seemed just correct to do so. So why was he so nervous? Was it because he was ashamed?
"Hai?" Taichi answered, picking up the ebony and ivory sphere that had been the start of this journey for his younger friend, and student in a way.
"I...just wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being such an idiot. I wanted to be like you so much, but I kinda confused that with being you. I'm sorry for being so obsessive, it's just...you were so cool to me! Still are.." With that said, with a flick of a wrist he had his, or rather, Taichi's goggles in his hands. "Take them. They're more yours than mine."
Taichi listened. And looked. And did the thing that he thought most people in his position would do.
Laughed.
The other looked on, even more confused than before, but before a sing syllable could make its way out of his mouth, Taichi began to speak.
"Listen, Daisuke. You shouldn't be sorry about anything. You were doing what most people do when they have someone to look up to. Looking up to them. Why should you be blamed?" Daisuke stared at him. Ah. The mysteries of the world. He couldn't believe this!
"But- but I followed you! I was like a zombie or something.." The chestnut haired elder gave him a rueful smile.
"And who said I didn't like it? Truth is, I loved the attention. Sure, now I'm glad that you're finally being your own self, but it was nice having someone looking up to you. I really was. Besides, whether you like it or not, that was still you acting like that, not me. "
Daisuke stared at Taichi in wonder. Was he really real? No, he had to be a god. He felt like he was back in his innocent filled days as a child again, staring at this mentor, and friend.
"Thanks Taichi."
"No prob." A pat on the back always makes things better. Be it for a child or adult. And today that still held true to Daisuke. Nevertheless, he still prodded Taichi to take the goggles that now lay in his tanned palms.
"Take them."
"But why? Weren't you listening?"
Another rueful grin was mirrored in front of Kamiya Taichi's eyes as he stared at the mahogany haired boy, no, young man, in front of him. Daisuke simply flicked it on Taichi's head and said,
"Those goggles are yours. I'm not you. I'm my own self."
And he was. He was Motomiya Daisuke, the seventeen-nearly-eighteen year old. He wasn't ashamed. He would never be. But with that he would never be that innocent child again either.
As one grows older they might loose their innocence. But with that loss comes knowledge.
So what was the knowledge gained in his journey?
He was Motomiya Daisuke. And wasn't ashamed of his actions. Why? Because they were simply his mistakes. No one else's. He was finally himself.
And he wouldn't have it any other way.
