Disclaimer: Let's go over this again: I don't own Digimon. I'm not profiting from this work, and I'm way too poor to sue. The Tale of Genji, the flagship of Japanese literature, was written by Murasaki Shikibu.
Warning: Contains poetry. I sincerely apologize.
Gloom
Chapter 1: Uji Matsu
"This is going to be so much fun!" Yolei declared. "All of us hanging out together, especially Mimi!"
Mimi blushed. "It's good to see you, too, Yolei."
"It's too bad the digimon couldn't come," said Matt.
The collective mood sobered at that comment. The digimon couldn't come because they were searching for Daemon in the digital world, a fact which hung like a dark cloud over their heads.
"On the other hand," Tai joked to lighten the mood, "now we'll have some food left for us."
"Especially since Joe and Sora have to work. Don't tell them I said that!" Davis laughed as Kari swatted him playfully.
Cody turned to talk to Izzy. "How many people besides us are going to be there?"
"Just Tsukiyo and her brother."
"Is her brother cute?" Yolei asked hopefully.
"I don't know; I've never met him."
T.K. shook his head at Yolei. "You just broke up with Tommi two weeks ago. Take some time off, Yolei."
Ken quietly listened to the banter as he watched the passing scenery out the train window.
They arrived at the train station in Kyoto in late afternoon. Tsukiyo was waiting for them. Her brother stood beside her, but she purposely faced the approaching train at an angle that kept him just out of sight. Her parents were letting her use their cabin on condition that she let Fuyutora come with her, which she was not happy about. She'd worked so hard for so long to distance herself from her family—financially, physically, emotionally, and psychologically—that even bringing her new friends to her family's cabin felt dangerous. She wondered why she suggested it in the first place. There must have been some subconscious reason behind it. Maybe part of her wanted Izzy to accept her for who she had been, as well as who she now was.
The train came to a stop and its passengers filed out. Tsukiyo sought out Izzy and they bowed to each other in an ostensibly formal but clearly heart-felt greeting. She then introduced her brother to the group. "Izzy, Ken, Yolei, Cody, Kari, T.K., Davis, Matt, Tai, Mimi: this is my younger brother, Fuyutora Nishiyama."
"Everyone calls me Tora," he said as he stepped forward to meet them. Tora was taller than his sister by a couple of inches, and while Tsukiyo was merely pretty in the best light, Tora was ravishing. His sharp features were perfectly proportioned and symmetrical. His straight black hair was cut short except for the bangs, which hung in clumps down his forehead, across his thin, angular eyebrows, into his wide-set eyes. (Yolei nearly swooned when he brushed the hair out of his eyes with his long, elegant fingers.) But in spite of their differences, that Tora and Tsukiyo were siblings was immediately obvious. He was the image of his sister refined and polished. And perhaps that was part of why Tsukiyo resented him. Izzy noticed she never looked directly at her brother, and while he was in her field of vision she wore a vague sneer.
"A pleasure to meet you, Tora," Yolei said quickly, stepping forward to take his hand. "I'm Yolei."
He smiled at her. His smile could have been either suave or condescending. "Nice to meet you, too." He looked over her shoulder at Mimi and Kari, who was trying not to smile at Yolei's enthusiasm. "Mimi and Kari, right?" He pointed to each of them respectively as he stated their names.
"Yes, and we're happy to meet you, too," Mimi claimed.
"Are all digidestined girls as beautiful as you?" he asked. His eyes slid from Mimi to Kari, then flickered to Yolei as though extending a token of inclusion to her out of politeness.
Ken, watching the greetings from the back of the crowd, frowned. He instantly disliked Tora. He tried to figure out why: was it because Yolei was fliriting with him, or because Tora was better looking than himself (he doubted that was it), or because Tsukiyo—who had become a close friend—clearly hated her brother?
Tsukiyo had rented a van, which they all squeezed into. They drove up a winding mountain road east of the city of Uji. By the time they reached their destination, the sun was setting.
The cabin had two stories and a terrace that enclosed with sudare screens. Though rustic, it had electricity and running water. The downstairs consisted of a narrow hallway, a kitchen, a living room with a large fireplace, two large closets, and a pantry. The upstairs had two bedrooms, each with an adjoining bathroom.
"This place was built by our great-grandfather," Tora said proudly. "But of course I've had it recently renovated."
"With my money," Tsukiyo added under her breath.
"Which you loaned me, and I will pay back," Tora reminded her.
Tsukiyo rolled her eyes, but dropped the issue. "We brought pizza for dinner," she said. "It will be ready in approximately thirty minutes."
While Tsukiyo prepared the pizza, Tora started a fire.
"This is a nice place," Mimi complimented.
"It looks like something right out of the Tale of Genji," Kari added.
"Thank you. I meant to give it that ambiance," Tora said. "We're so close to Uji, I though it would be appropriate. You know," he added in a near-whisper, "some people think this whole mountain is haunted. Sleep with one eye open tonight; you might see a ghost."
The digidestined smiled, scoffed, and stifled snickers.
"I'm not kidding," Tora said, sounding a little bit offended.
"Dude," said Davis, "we've been fighting monsters for years. You think we're scared of ghosts?"
Tora huffed. "Monsters are nothing. You can see monsters. Ghosts, though, you only see ghosts in dreams. And by the time you wake up, it's too late."
The smell of pizza distracted them, and in a few minutes Tsukiyo arrived with dinner. The hungry digidestined converged on her.
"If Veemon were here," Davis mentioned, "he'd eat a whole pizza in one bite!"
"Are you trying to give us a demonstration?" Yolei asked as she snatched away what would have been Davis's fourth slice.
"Do those two always eat so much?" Tora asked Ken loud enough for Davis and Yolei to hear.
Ken didn't answer; he wasn't in a joking mood.
As the night progressed, he pretended not to notice Yolei taking every opportunity to flirt with Tora. Somehow, Tora's indifference made him a little angry; how dare he reject what Ken so desired? And Yolei, who seemed to fall for every handsome boy who crossed her path except for him...
He quietly quoted a poem from the Tale of Genji:
"Let us blame the wisteria, of too pale a hue,
Though the pine has let itself be overgrown."
He felt tears sting his eyes, and knew he couldn't stay in the crowded room without risking awkward questions. He went outside, and into the tall pines that surrounded the cabin. He shouldn't be angry at Yolei, he told himself: she had no way to know how he felt about her. He'd never told her. If he had, she would at least have had the consideration to not flirt in front of him.
Why had he never told her? What was he afraid of? Nothing. He knew she would be flattered, and wouldn't end their friendship over it. Then why? And why had the girl who, by her own admission, fell in love at every opportunity never shown an interest in him? He didn't like the answer that came instantly to mind: because he had been the emperor. And perhaps that was the reason that he never told her. Not only did part of him feel like he didn't deserve to love her, but he feared finding out that the others still secretly blamed him.
"Ken!" Izzy called.
He wiped his tears on his sleeve and retreated into the shadow of a tree before answering. "I'm out here."
Izzy came toward him. He was holding a small notebook and a pen. "So this is where you went. I was wondering if you could help me with something."
"What?" Ken asked. He kept any trace of his turbulent emotions from his voice.
"I'm writing a poem for Tsukiyo. Can you think of something endless and constant?"
"You're writing a poem?"
"Yeah. I guess this place makes me feel poetic."
Ken nodded understandingly. "Let's see...something endless. The universe?"
"No good. It might collapse someday. And the word needs to be one syllable."
"Hmm..." Ken's thoughts drifted back to his own heartache. He plucked a sprig of the pine tree and contemplated how, because its name was a pun on 'to wait' and because it was evergreen, in poetry it was used to suggest longing, constancy, and unrequited love. A similar homonym occurred in English; I pine for you. But that wouldn't work in Izzy's poem, since Tsukiyo loved him in return. But as Ken considered the tree's rings, which formed unbroken circles, the answer came to him. "Pi," he said.
"Huh?"
"3.14159. The ratio of a circle's circumference to its diameter."
"Perfect!" He finished composing his poem.
"May I see it?" Ken asked.
"Sure." Izzy handed him the notebook. He noticed the evidence of tears, but didn't comment.
The preceding pages of Izzy's notebook contained quickly-scribbled mathematical equations and hypotheses. The sudden appearance of the poem—in the traditional waka structure—was comical.
Moonlight—mirrored sun—
Paints the landscape platinum:
Beauty incarnate.
Though its light may wane, my love
For you, is constant as Pi.
Ken smiled. "I think she'll like it."
Izzy nodded. "Are you thinking of Wisteria?" he asked, using the code name for Ken's crush.
"Yes," Ken admitted. "May I write a poem?"
"Of course." Izzy gave him his pen.
Ken had learned long ago that the fastest way to ease overwhelming emotions was to put them down on paper; that way they were no longer inside of him.
Gloomy mountain pine,
Still frosted from winter's chill,
Longs for springtime warmth,
Bright wisteria flowers,
And thawing summer sunlight.
He tore out the page, rolled it up, and tied the pliable pine sprig in a knot around it. Then he handed the notebook and pen back to Izzy.
When they got back to the cabin, Ken tossed the pine and poem into the fireplace, but he didn't see it bounce back out, unscorched, onto the floor.
