Hey
Here I go again with another song fic. Made it a short one this time and based on Elvis' "My Boy". Let's not forget The King - he was great. ^_^ The fic itself tells about Yama's and Ishida Masaharu, his father.
I don't own Digimon, I don't own Elvis... you know.
Any reviews are welcomed,
God bless!
THE BIRTHDAY PRESENT
It was half past midnight when I stepped into the dark, quiet appartment,a bit dizzy from all the sake I've drunk at the party. Yama was already asleep, so I removed my shoes at the door and trying not to make noise quietly continued into the salon. Lying on the desk and glittering in the moonlight was some flat square object; as I approached, it appeared to be a CD box, which had a tiny piece of paper attached to it with a duct tape.
"Happy Birthday, Dad. Hope you like the present. Matt."
I smiled. Sure I liked the present. It was "Hits of the 60s" CD, after all.Tom Jones, Paul Anka, Engelbert Humperdink, Loui Armstrong. My type of music. But what was making it even more special is that the present was coming from my son. Frankly, I never expected it. Not after Natsuko and I divorced, and Yama was separated from her and Keru, which happened merely a few months ago.
The divorce hurt him a great deal; not that he ever complained about it or something, but it still could be easily seen.Yama has always been a quiet boy who tended to keep all his troubles to himself, but after Natsuko and Keru moved out of Odaiba he became even more introvert and less talkative. There were days when we barely exchanged a few phrases. Well of course I was not home most of the time, staying in the studio late and often returning around eight or nine p.m., but when I'd arrive he'd usually say "Hi, Dad" and retreat to his room to read, play video games or practice on his harmonica. Sometimes I'd ask him about school, and he'd say "All's cool, Dad" and I'd leave him to that.
As for holidays and weekends, he'd spend most of them either visiting his mother and brother or hanging out with his friends (I reckon that's where he got his nickname, "Matt", from; they all used to call one another American names), so we still were not seeing each other much. Once or twice I suggested we go to see a movie or visit an amusement park or something like that, but he'd decline. He was not rude or anything like that - just looked down and said politely, " Thanks Dad, but come on, you break your back working all week long, you deserve a little rest, don't you? And besides, I think I've seen this movie already."
Yamato... He's such a nice kid. Mature for his age - and he's only 10 - , respectful, obedient and endlessly polite; and yet he never smiles, never looks me in the face when we talk... and I'm afraid deep down he hates me.
I hesitated for a few seconds, then opened the box, took the CD out and placed it into the CD player of a boom box standing on the same desk. Of course, not wanting to wake Yama up, I put the volium low and closed the salon's door. Afterwards I settled in the armchair and closed my eyes to the quiet, soft song filling the room...
You're sleeping, son, I know, but really just can't wait
I wanted to explain before it gets too late
For your mother and me love have finally died
It's been no happy home, but God knows how we tried
I sat in the darkness, thinking, yes, Yama, we tried, but failed. I probably was not a good father for you and Keru. I was never home,and when I did, all I used to do was fight with Natsuko. Money, her new clothes, my car, a broken toaster, not enough salt in the dish... any reason would be ok for us. Why did we marry each other? What we thought was love turned to be just a little crush, but by the time we realized it, she was already pregnant with you, so I could not leave her, could I? I stayed and put you, Natsuko, myself and later Takeru through another ten years of suffering.
I know, it's hard to understand why did we ever start
We're more like strangers now, it's acting all out of part
I laughed and I cried, I lost every game
Taking all I could take, but I stayed just the same
And yes, good old Elvis is right again. No matter how hard I tried to love Natsuko again, at least for the boys, I could not do so. The very sound of her voice, very sight of her were annoing me. I used to be glad when she'd spill some soup on the table or hold the fridge's door open for too long - it was giving me an excuse to snap at her and start another fight.Not that my wife was all that poor and innocent victum - she had her own little ways to get back at me - but it's not the point. Bottom line is, while trying to make each other's lifes a living hell we were making our sons' lifes a living hell as well. How many times Keru would cry, pleading us to stop yelling at each other;how many times Yama would lead him back to their room and then angrily reproach us and demand we make up; but it all was for naugh. And then, during what appeared to be our last quarrel, he tried physically to pull us apart and I pushed him away, causing Yama to fall and hit his head against the fridge. He passed out for a couple of seconds and Natsuko threw me out of the house, threatening to call the police and tell them I tried to kill the boy. A week later we were husband and wife no more.
Yes, Yama, you have all the reasons to hate me...
I got up and stepping quietly, walked along the corridor and into my son's room. Yamato was lying on the futon mattress on his back, shoulder-long blond hair tousled all over the pillow, eyes closed, face carrying calm, peaceful expression.
I stood above him for a while, observing a sleeping boy, the whispered,
"I'm sorry, Yama. Sorry for everything. I don't deserve to have such a kind son like you."
You slept on; you haven't heard a word - perhaps it's just as well
Why spoil your little dreams and put you through the hell?
Life's no fairytail as one day you will know
But now you're just a child, I'll stay and watch you grow
All of a sudden, Yama winced, then let out a groan; a beads of sweat formed on his forehead, as he began to writhe and thrash around on the mattress. I got scared. Was he sick and in pain? Or was it just a bad dream? Anyway, have to revive him. Crouching nearside the futon, I touched the boy by the shoulder... second later he tensed and let out a cry which terrified me so much I lost balance and fell on my butt.
"No!" Yama cried out. "Please, no... Stop! Dad! DAD!!.."
My head dropped on my hands.I was afraid of it. He's probably dreaming of Natsuko and me fighting; or of me pushing him down. He will never neither forget nor forgive. And it's all my fault...
"Stop it! Stop it! Dad! Please make him stop! Dad, help me! HELP ME,DAAAAAAAAD!!!..."
Huh?!
I raised my head in a flash. Yamato was still thrashing around, his head was shaking from side to side like a pendulum, tears streaming from underneath the eyelids. I again took him by the shoulder and shook gently.
"Yama, wake up... It's just a dream, it's not real. There, there, come on, wake up..."
"Ahhh!"
He jerked himself into a sitting position, his eyes wide open, beads of sweat glittering on his face, throat, neck, back and chest and breathing fast. I waited, not sure what to do... and then he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and burried his face in my chest.
"Whoa...", I heard him whisper, "It was scary, that monster I dreamed of..."
"Come on, son, relax, it's over." I said, patting him on the back and stroking his hair. "It wasn't real anyway."
... Did he just do that? Did Yama just do what he haven't done in months?... Yes, raising his head and smiling, he looked me in the eyes.
"Hey, Dad, thanks for waking me up in time. I was going to wet my pants, I think..."
His smile grew wider, he hugged me again and mumbled, a little shyly, into my chest,
"I love you, Dad."
I hugged him back, feeling like I've just recieved the greatest Birthday present ever and hearing Elvis' voice still sounding from the salon.
Because you're all I have, my boy
You atre my life, my pride, my joy
And if I stay, I'll stay because of you,
My boy...
The END
Here I go again with another song fic. Made it a short one this time and based on Elvis' "My Boy". Let's not forget The King - he was great. ^_^ The fic itself tells about Yama's and Ishida Masaharu, his father.
I don't own Digimon, I don't own Elvis... you know.
Any reviews are welcomed,
God bless!
THE BIRTHDAY PRESENT
It was half past midnight when I stepped into the dark, quiet appartment,a bit dizzy from all the sake I've drunk at the party. Yama was already asleep, so I removed my shoes at the door and trying not to make noise quietly continued into the salon. Lying on the desk and glittering in the moonlight was some flat square object; as I approached, it appeared to be a CD box, which had a tiny piece of paper attached to it with a duct tape.
"Happy Birthday, Dad. Hope you like the present. Matt."
I smiled. Sure I liked the present. It was "Hits of the 60s" CD, after all.Tom Jones, Paul Anka, Engelbert Humperdink, Loui Armstrong. My type of music. But what was making it even more special is that the present was coming from my son. Frankly, I never expected it. Not after Natsuko and I divorced, and Yama was separated from her and Keru, which happened merely a few months ago.
The divorce hurt him a great deal; not that he ever complained about it or something, but it still could be easily seen.Yama has always been a quiet boy who tended to keep all his troubles to himself, but after Natsuko and Keru moved out of Odaiba he became even more introvert and less talkative. There were days when we barely exchanged a few phrases. Well of course I was not home most of the time, staying in the studio late and often returning around eight or nine p.m., but when I'd arrive he'd usually say "Hi, Dad" and retreat to his room to read, play video games or practice on his harmonica. Sometimes I'd ask him about school, and he'd say "All's cool, Dad" and I'd leave him to that.
As for holidays and weekends, he'd spend most of them either visiting his mother and brother or hanging out with his friends (I reckon that's where he got his nickname, "Matt", from; they all used to call one another American names), so we still were not seeing each other much. Once or twice I suggested we go to see a movie or visit an amusement park or something like that, but he'd decline. He was not rude or anything like that - just looked down and said politely, " Thanks Dad, but come on, you break your back working all week long, you deserve a little rest, don't you? And besides, I think I've seen this movie already."
Yamato... He's such a nice kid. Mature for his age - and he's only 10 - , respectful, obedient and endlessly polite; and yet he never smiles, never looks me in the face when we talk... and I'm afraid deep down he hates me.
I hesitated for a few seconds, then opened the box, took the CD out and placed it into the CD player of a boom box standing on the same desk. Of course, not wanting to wake Yama up, I put the volium low and closed the salon's door. Afterwards I settled in the armchair and closed my eyes to the quiet, soft song filling the room...
You're sleeping, son, I know, but really just can't wait
I wanted to explain before it gets too late
For your mother and me love have finally died
It's been no happy home, but God knows how we tried
I sat in the darkness, thinking, yes, Yama, we tried, but failed. I probably was not a good father for you and Keru. I was never home,and when I did, all I used to do was fight with Natsuko. Money, her new clothes, my car, a broken toaster, not enough salt in the dish... any reason would be ok for us. Why did we marry each other? What we thought was love turned to be just a little crush, but by the time we realized it, she was already pregnant with you, so I could not leave her, could I? I stayed and put you, Natsuko, myself and later Takeru through another ten years of suffering.
I know, it's hard to understand why did we ever start
We're more like strangers now, it's acting all out of part
I laughed and I cried, I lost every game
Taking all I could take, but I stayed just the same
And yes, good old Elvis is right again. No matter how hard I tried to love Natsuko again, at least for the boys, I could not do so. The very sound of her voice, very sight of her were annoing me. I used to be glad when she'd spill some soup on the table or hold the fridge's door open for too long - it was giving me an excuse to snap at her and start another fight.Not that my wife was all that poor and innocent victum - she had her own little ways to get back at me - but it's not the point. Bottom line is, while trying to make each other's lifes a living hell we were making our sons' lifes a living hell as well. How many times Keru would cry, pleading us to stop yelling at each other;how many times Yama would lead him back to their room and then angrily reproach us and demand we make up; but it all was for naugh. And then, during what appeared to be our last quarrel, he tried physically to pull us apart and I pushed him away, causing Yama to fall and hit his head against the fridge. He passed out for a couple of seconds and Natsuko threw me out of the house, threatening to call the police and tell them I tried to kill the boy. A week later we were husband and wife no more.
Yes, Yama, you have all the reasons to hate me...
I got up and stepping quietly, walked along the corridor and into my son's room. Yamato was lying on the futon mattress on his back, shoulder-long blond hair tousled all over the pillow, eyes closed, face carrying calm, peaceful expression.
I stood above him for a while, observing a sleeping boy, the whispered,
"I'm sorry, Yama. Sorry for everything. I don't deserve to have such a kind son like you."
You slept on; you haven't heard a word - perhaps it's just as well
Why spoil your little dreams and put you through the hell?
Life's no fairytail as one day you will know
But now you're just a child, I'll stay and watch you grow
All of a sudden, Yama winced, then let out a groan; a beads of sweat formed on his forehead, as he began to writhe and thrash around on the mattress. I got scared. Was he sick and in pain? Or was it just a bad dream? Anyway, have to revive him. Crouching nearside the futon, I touched the boy by the shoulder... second later he tensed and let out a cry which terrified me so much I lost balance and fell on my butt.
"No!" Yama cried out. "Please, no... Stop! Dad! DAD!!.."
My head dropped on my hands.I was afraid of it. He's probably dreaming of Natsuko and me fighting; or of me pushing him down. He will never neither forget nor forgive. And it's all my fault...
"Stop it! Stop it! Dad! Please make him stop! Dad, help me! HELP ME,DAAAAAAAAD!!!..."
Huh?!
I raised my head in a flash. Yamato was still thrashing around, his head was shaking from side to side like a pendulum, tears streaming from underneath the eyelids. I again took him by the shoulder and shook gently.
"Yama, wake up... It's just a dream, it's not real. There, there, come on, wake up..."
"Ahhh!"
He jerked himself into a sitting position, his eyes wide open, beads of sweat glittering on his face, throat, neck, back and chest and breathing fast. I waited, not sure what to do... and then he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and burried his face in my chest.
"Whoa...", I heard him whisper, "It was scary, that monster I dreamed of..."
"Come on, son, relax, it's over." I said, patting him on the back and stroking his hair. "It wasn't real anyway."
... Did he just do that? Did Yama just do what he haven't done in months?... Yes, raising his head and smiling, he looked me in the eyes.
"Hey, Dad, thanks for waking me up in time. I was going to wet my pants, I think..."
His smile grew wider, he hugged me again and mumbled, a little shyly, into my chest,
"I love you, Dad."
I hugged him back, feeling like I've just recieved the greatest Birthday present ever and hearing Elvis' voice still sounding from the salon.
Because you're all I have, my boy
You atre my life, my pride, my joy
And if I stay, I'll stay because of you,
My boy...
The END