a/n: ...hi? (ducks) I'm sorry for the super late chapter! But it's here! If my readers from last year are still here, I'm very thankful that you haven't given up on waiting! Enjoy, and I promise I will try not to slip into hiding for another five months!
Trigger warning: Implied death of young children. And this is unedited. Please continue with caution.
Ch 07 || Heartbeat
Yamato blinked, sleep-glazed eyes sweeping over his surroundings. It took several moments for him to properly focus, and when the world finally stood still, he blinked once more in utter confusion.
Because seconds ago, he was in his classroom, head pillowed in his desk, trying not to give in to the inviting call of slumber. Now, he was lying belly-down on a grassy plain that stretched for hundreds of feet. The sun was setting, clouds decorated with pink and orange hues, hanging low around trees that shuddered under the wind's soft caress. A glance around showed him that his school was nowhere to be seen.
This, understandably, terrified Yamato. Where the hell was he, and how did he get here? It was barely ten in the morning when he was at school, and now it was suddenly getting dark? And it wasn't even spring yet. It shouldn't be this warm.
"Another weird dream," Yamato muttered under his breath after a few moments, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. Ignored the fact that the ground beneath him felt inexplicably and undeniably real. "Perfect. How do I wake up from this one?"
Chewing the inside of his lip, Yamato pushed himself to his knees. Just lying here wasn't going to do much good. His fingers curled into fists, crushing tiny blades of lush green grass and separating them from their roots. It did not matter that he'd only had these dreams for only a few days—he was already annoyed with them. It was infuriating. Confusing. Unsettling.
What was worse was he couldn't figure out how to stop them. How was he supposed to control his own dreams?
With an agitated sigh, Yamato drew himself up to his full height and dusted off his pants. Felt the breeze tickle his skin and shivered.
At least I'm not in the grocery store, a part of his mind mused as he looked around again.
Then again, Yamato was not sure if this place was much better. Sure, it was warm and beautiful, but he was the only one here. At least in his other dream, he had been with his father and younger brother.
His brother.
Yamato's breath became trapped in his throat for several suspended moments. Over and over, he saw Takeru stepping off the curb and into the street, where a rush of vehicles awaited, ready to sweep him into the sky. If Takeru had been hit, he would have been killed, for sure. Takeru was only twelve years old—he was still small. Those cars were moving so fast.
Shaking his head to rid the thoughts from his mind, Yamato decided he should at least have a look around. Dream world or not, he wanted to figure out where exactly he was, and if there was anybody beyond the trees. He couldn't just stand around and wait.
Without a proper destination, Yamato's legs began moving. Even if he didn't know where he was going, there was a small chance that he'd find something—maybe someone?—of interest. Perhaps he would wake up before he made it too far. Or at least, he hoped he would.
Brows crinkled in confusion, Yamato traversed the field that contained too much green for comfort. It was all crisp leaves and hushed tickling breezes and unfurling flower petals, as though they were well into spring. He was unsure why his surroundings made him uneasy. The whole terrain seemed magical and fairylike, which only intensified his desire to investigate it even further. He felt like he was trapped in a video game.
The grass whispered underneath his feet as he walked, humming under his breath, pretending his dread was curiosity. What lay beyond those trees? Something sinister, or just more trees? There was only one way to find out.
The closer he got to the trees, however, the heavier the dread seemed to become. Like a snowball rolling down a hill, growing in size and volume, ready to wreck anything that stood in its path. Thoughtlessly he slowed his pace, casual steps becoming measured, soundless, careful. He peeled back a branch, peering into the forest and listening to the susurrus of the leaves, squinting as he glanced around. Yes, he decided, this place was far too eerie and mysterious and mythical for his liking.
I don't think I should go any further.
"Nii-chan?"
Yamato stilled. It was a tiny whisper—a low breath of a sound—but Yamato would know Takeru's voice anywhere. Even if he sounded too young.
"Takeru?" He whirled around, eyes blowing wide, ignoring how heavy he felt all of a sudden, wondering where his little brother could be. This field was so huge compared to a kid like him, and Yamato swore that when he woke up there was nobody here. He hadn't imagined hearing his sibling's voice, had he? Fearing the answer, he repeated, "Takeru? Where are you?"
There was no verbal reply. Yamato strained his ears just to be sure. Takeru had called for him. He knew Takeru had called for him.
But where had the whisper come from? It was so quiet, and it sounded unnervingly close to his ear, like Takeru had been right next to him when he spoke. But all that surrounded him were trees. In the silence, he felt like the trees were mocking him, gossiping fervently alongside the breeze. He had no idea which direction to go.
"Takeru?" he tried again, taking a few attentive steps forward.
Once again, he received no response. The fine hairs on the back of his neck prickled. An uncomfortable pull-like sensation started somewhere in his collarbone, crawling all the way to the base of his shoulder blades. Like something was resting on his shoulders.
Except there was nothing there. Yamato chewed the inside of his cheek, torn between venturing further into the woods and turning back to the field. Then again, this was a dream. What did he have to lose? Yamato had a feeling just sitting in the field until he woke up would not do any good.
Pulling a shuddering breath into his lungs, Yamato pursed his lips and forced himself to move forward. His eyes strayed skyward, tracing the cracks in the canopy of leaves where the sunlight shone through. How could such an elegant and beautiful place like this stir up almost every ounce of fear that lay dormant inside him? Every tiny sound, every sigh of wind, made his heart stutter uncomfortably, like he was watching a movie that spent most of its run-time building up suspense for its viewers. If something was going to jump out and scare him, he hoped they would just hurry up and get it over with. He didn't like this dreadful feeling in his chest at all.
I don't understand why I can't just wake up already, he thought with a frown.
And he heard Takeru's voice once more: "Nii-chan?"
Yamato shuddered violently. This time, there was a disturbing echo, like Takeru's voice was being mimicked by somebody after he said the name. His blood seemed to freeze inside of him, and for several painstakingly long moments, Yamato didn't dare breathe. In that instant, he felt like his organs had suddenly shut down. He felt extremely cold, and he did not know why.
"Takeru, please," he begged, terror bleeding into his voice, "tell me where you are."
Yamato waited for him to speak again. Waited. Waited. Takeru was silent.
Yamato kicked off into a run. He wasn't sure why. He had no idea where his brother was. Maybe he just wanted to give his heart a reason to pound. Maybe he wanted to get his blood moving again. Maybe he wanted a reason to feel breathless, a reason to feel heavy. There was no excuse to feel like he'd overexerted himself if all he was doing was standing still.
So he propelled himself forward, pumping one leg in front of the other without direction. The faster he moved, the louder and sharper the wind became, nipping at his face, roaring in his ears.
"Nii-chan!"
"I can't find you," he shouted into the woods as he ran. "You have to tell me where you are!"
An awkward weight settled on his shoulders once again. He felt like he was being pulled backward, and that stopped him cold. Panting, Yamato staggered, trying desperately to regain his balance after halting so abruptly. Why did he feel like something was resting on top of his neck, something that was the equivalent of a pile of bricks?
Fingers twisted into his shirt. Fingers that were not his own.
Yamato's eyes popped wide.
Very slowly, Yamato moved his hand to find out what the hell it was. His breath became a prisoner inside his throat. A hand. A tiny hand, which was connected to a tiny arm. An arm that was connected to a tiny shoulder. There was a person hanging off of him.
Was that the heavy, painful weight he had felt earlier?
"Nii-chan," Takeru murmured, "don't worry, I'm right here."
Yamato's whole body felt weak. Takeru was so small, but he felt like he weighed just as much as Yamato did. His legs shook with the threat of collapsing, and it did not help that he'd just hurled through himself the woods like he was being chased.
"What're you doing here, Takeru?" he said, heart roaring in his ears.
"I'm here with my friends," his brother answered. "Hibiki... Ichirou..."
Yamato frowned as Takeru continued to list off names. Why did they sound so familiar? Regardless, Takeru was scaring Yamato. A lot. He said, "I... I don't see any of your friends here, Takeru."
"They're at the park," Takeru explained quietly. "I heard your voice, so I came to get you. Will you come to the park with me, Nii-chan?"
Yamato drew in a quivering breath through his nose as a chilling shiver rippled down his spine. His fear skyrocketed when Takeru's grip on him tightened. "Will you, Nii-chan?"
"Sure," he whispered hoarsely, offering a very quick, very stiff nod. Tried to ignore the fact that he had no idea where this 'park' was. "Sure, Teek."
Takeru hummed softly, and Yamato felt the vibration of the sound on his shoulder, where his brother's face was currently nuzzled. Takeru's breath was cold, causing his skin to prickle again.
Yamato did not mind carrying his little brother on his back. But what was unsettling to him was the fact that Takeru was not supposed to be this small. Takeru was twelve years old. He was supposed to be many feet taller. Except this version of Takeru, even judging by the size of his hands and arms, was only a toddler.
Despite his fear, however, Yamato felt compelled to take care of him. He knew that this was not normal somewhere deep inside, but this little kid was still his sibling. Even though he was terrified, he had an obligation as an older brother to look after Takeru.
Just like in his last dream.
"Takeru?"
"Mm?"
"Which way is the park?"
"It's just past the trees," Takeru answered calmly. "We're not that far away."
Yamato swallowed. "Ok."
Silence reigned between the two, with the only sounds being the haunting whispers of wind and rustling of leaves. Yamato forced himself to move forward, purposefully ignoring the fact that his brother seemed three to four times the weight of somebody his size.
As he passed more trees, the sinking feeling in his chest from earlier was crawling back into his skin, latching onto him like an unwanted parasite. The snowball of dread was growing bigger. Bigger. Bigger. The only thing keeping him going was Takeru's tiny fingers curled into his shirt.
"We're almost there," Takeru informed him in a voice that lacked the excitement and innocence of a three-year-old boy. He sounded hollow.
This made Yamato incredibly suspicious. His eyes narrowed. "You sure?"
Takeru hummed again in response, pressing his cheek to Yamato's neck.
"You're cold, Takeru."
"I'm cold always," Takeru replied, using that same robotic-like tone that sent another wave of dread through Yamato. Toddlers were not supposed to sound so empty. At least Takeru wouldn't. Even as a tiny child, Takeru was happy and outgoing. "But don't worry. I'm used to it, Nii-chan. We all are."
Sunlight soon became more prominent. Stronger. Brighter. They were almost out of the woods. Yamato had to cover his eyes with one of his arms to block out the light, not expecting it to be so harsh. Despite knowing the sun should have provided some warmth and scattered the shadows of the trees, Yamato felt another series of chills crawl all across his body. Something was wrong.
Something was deeply, terribly, irrevocably wrong.
Achingly slowly, Yamato lowered his arm and peeled his eyes open again. With the trees now behind him, Yamato could see everything more clearly, although as soon as he drew in what lay beyond the woods Yamato wished he hadn't uncovered his eyes.
Indeed, there was a park. Playground equipment. Wood chips. Swings. Slides. There was a street about twenty feet away with traffic lights and road signs, but there was no traffic. The roads were entirely bare: an unsettling sight.
The wind suddenly roared, and through the heavy breeze Yamato heard a low, mechanical whisper that echoed repeatedly around him as though he was in a cave: "He's back!"
"Nii-chan," Takeru murmured quietly, without emotion. "Do you remember me, Nii-chan?"
Yamato blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"
Without warning, Takeru slid off him. Before Yamato could even turn around to see if he was hurt, Takeru was reaching for his hand, fingers closing tightly around Yamato's thumb. Yamato glanced down and automatically wished he hadn't.
It was the first time he'd caught a glimpse of young Takeru's face. Rather than the sky blue eyes he expected, Yamato was greeted with two tiny, gemlike spheres that looked like they had been shoved inside Takeru eye sockets. His face and body was covered in a spiderweblike pattern of shadows, spiraling around his arms, fingers, cheeks, neck—every part of skin that Yamato could see.
The creature that was staring back at him was not Takeru.
It cocked its head to the side curiously and repeated, "Do you remember me, Nii-chan?"
Terror seized Yamato in massive waves. Automatic instinct was to backpedal—and he did just that, pulling loose from the creature's grip and stumbling backward in a quick, jerky manner, head moving back and forth hysterically. "You're... you're not—"
"My friends' families don't remember them, either," the thing went on, walking toward Yamato without breaking eye contact. "It's like we never existed, Nii-chan. We died and nobody cared."
A loud thumping noise echoed all around him as though the sound was being projected through speakers on a stage, taunting and horrifying. It was rapid and rhythmic, almost like a heartbeat, thumping faster, faster, faster.
Because of his desperation to get away from it, Yamato hadn't notice the thick tree root bulging out of the ground. His foot was caught in it and he was sent to the ground with a painful thud. Despite feeling horrified and confused, his eyes and body suddenly became very heavy, like he'd been drugged. His vision swam with inky dark splotches as his head collided with the park's prickly, hard floor. The world was a whirlwind of a dusking sky and tree limbs and quivering shadows and thumpthumpthump, thumpthumpthump, thumpthumpthump.
There were shadows of all shapes and sizes with crystal eyes, coming from every direction. Crossing the bare streets, crawling off of the swing sets, sludging through wood chips and climbing down trees, coming up through the ground in a zombiesque state. Walking toward Yamato who was pinned to the ground by some unknown force. Color exploded around him.
"You don't remember," echoed around him, flat and machinelike. "You don't remember... you don't remember... you don't remember..."
Faster. Closer. Red.
"You don't remember."
Faster. Closer. Blue.
"You don't remember."
Faster. Closer. Purple.
"Why did you forget me, Nii-chan?"
Yamato's body burned. Badly. He wished desperately to close his eyes but it was like something invisible was keeping them open, eyelids peeled back, pupils dilated. Something flickered, fluttering rapidly like the wings of a butterfly. Yamato willed his vision to clear so he could see what it was.
After an aching eternity, Yamato was able to make out the distorted shapes. A few feet away from the shadow creatures stood a short, trembling, undoubtedly human body, arms outstretched toward Yamato.
A much older, emotion-filled voice called, "ONII-SAN!"
"Ta...Takeru..." He'd tried to shout it, but his voice would not surpass a whisper. "N-no... no...!"
Suddenly the heartbeat around him dulled and slowed drastically, and Takeru's quaking form sank down to the ground, fingers still reaching for him. Slower. Slower.
"This is just a dream," Yamato murmured hysterically, groggily, fighting against whatever had him pinned. "I'm going to wake up soon, and you're going to be just fine, Takeru. You're going to be fine! I'm going to be fine..."
Slower.
"This isn't just a dream," Takeru said to him, voice crackling like a fire, as the inky shadows around the children slowly inched toward him like worms. His expression bled sorrow and panic. "You're in the past, Onii-san."
Slower.
For a split second, his eyes changed. Gone was the blue, and instead Yamato was looking at two mirror-like orbs that were identical to that of the other children's. When they returned to normal Yamato saw streams of tears.
Slower.
"Please don't let them take me again," Takeru pleaded brokenly, and even though he was back to his normal age and size, he sounded as young and vulnerable as the toddler Yamato had walked with in the woods. His fingers brushed against Yamato's shoulder, and for a brief seconds, Yamato swore he saw some sort of burn mark snaking up Takeru's neck. "I'm scared, Nii-san. Don't let them take me—"
Gone.
[1 March 2004; 10:43 a.m.]
Someone is still touching his shoulder when Yamato opens his eyes. A burning sensation crawls over his skin and in an instant, Yamato yanks away violently from the offending fingers, head snapping up to look at the person with shaky, dinner-plate eyes.
Taichi looks equally shocked, hands immediately rising to show that he means no harm. "Hey, Yamato, dude, it's ok. It's just me."
"Are you all right?" Sora asks immediately, concern stitched into her voice.
Yamato takes only a few moments to quiet his racing heart and studies his surroundings. He's in a classroom. A mostly empty classroom, save him, his friends, a stray student or two, and Hattori-sensei. They all look as worried and confused as Sora sounds.
"Fine," he says in a hushed voice. One glance at the clock tells him that he has slept through his entire second class and now the students have left on their ten-minute break placed in the schedule to act as prep-time for the following class. Without hesitation he stands, offers a quick bow, and mutters, "I'm sorry, Hattori-sensei. I have to go."
His teacher looks incredibly surprised, but before he can even say a word, Yamato is grabbing his bag and bolting out of the classroom. Students are everywhere, and Yamato automatically searches for a place that isn't crowded by his peers. Outside. He needs to get his shoes and go outside.
Footsteps echo behind him—an indication that he's being followed. Sora shouts, "Hey, Yamato—"
"Not now." His voice is much harsher than he intends it to be.
"Can you at least tell us why you're leaving?" Taichi asks, soon falling in step with him. Sora follows shortly after, and it reminds Yamato that they're both very athletic teenagers, so running away from them isn't going to do much good. They'll catch up.
Still...
"Takeru's in trouble," he says firmly, grip tightening on his bag. His shoulder still burns and he has no idea why. He doesn't really care that much; he knows slowing his pace isn't an option.
"Wha—?" Taichi sounds baffled. "What do you mean? How do you know?"
"I just do, ok?" Yamato snaps. "I have to find him. Fast."
"Yamato, hun," Sora starts, "slow down, all right? We need to have a talk."
"I don't—"
Taichi cuts in, "Well, could you at least explain to us why you seemed dead to the world for the entire class? When everybody left and you didn't wake up, we were ready to call an ambulance!"
That makes Yamato's steps falter. He pauses briefly to look at Taichi with his eyebrows raised. "What?"
"Sensei noticed you dozing toward the end of class," Sora begins to explain. "He tried shaking you awake, but then gave up when you didn't respond. He seemed annoyed at first, and just continued explaining the assignment. But then class ended and... you still wouldn't wake up. Not even when Taichi shouted at you." Her eyes meet his, and he sees the fear glistening in them. "We were worried."
Yamato blinks. He imagines Hattori-sensei's hand on his back, but it just catapults him back into his dream, when Takeru was resting on his back. The image makes him shudder, something which both of his friends notice immediately.
"Are you sick?" she whispers, one hand extending to touch him.
Pain explodes in his shoulder when her fingers make contact, and his whole body jerks, fingers loosening around his bag. It falls to the tiled floor, and it's then that he realizes that it's not even zipped. His belongings tumble out in a blizzard of writing utensils and loose pages, and he hisses sharply. Sora pulls away, bug-eyed, and Taichi swoops down to collect Yamato's things, if only so they can get away from the crowd faster. Yamato doesn't care. Barely notices the circle of students at the end of the hall watching and whispering in curiosity.
Taichi and Sora, however, do notice. Sora reaches for Yamato's bag and helps Taichi shove everything back into it, lacking the time to care about proper organization, and when they come back up to eye-level Taichi says in a stern voice, "Ok, Yamato. You win. We're leaving. But you've got to explain what's happening between you and Takeru."
He grabs Yamato's arm and pulls roughly, and Sora clutches his bag to her chest as they start moving. They barely remember to switch out their shoes. Yamato doesn't care that they'll miss class, and judging by the expressions of his friends, he realizes that it's the least of their worries, too.
"I can't explain it, ok?" Yamato finally says as they exit the school. "There's... I just have a feeling that's something's wrong. Very wrong. And you didn't... you didn't see him this morning—"
"I saw how scared you were when Takeru and Hikari came back from the digital world on Saturday. It was like you thought he was dead or something!"
"He's gonna be dead if I don't find him, damn it!"
Both Sora and Taichi stop walking, drawing in collective gasps of horror. Yamato is breathing harshly, hands curled into fists, eyes remaining cold and fierce. In the back of his mind, Takeru's fading heartbeat still echoes, growing quieter and quieter and quieter until it disappears entirely. The sound is terribly haunting, almost like the sound of the shadows repeating the same thing over and over...
In a lower, calmer voice, he says, "Something bad is about to happen. I just know it. I know Takeru's involved."
"O...ok," Taichi says, nodding solemnly. "We'll help you find him."
Sora, however, is still in shock. Her expression is laced with fear and confusion as her gaze drifts from Yamato's face to his neck. "Wait. Yamato...what's that...on your neck?"
As she says the words, the burning sensation returns. Spreads down his arm and up his neck in fiery tingles.
Briefly, Yamato is stunned. One hand comes up to touch it gingerly. It stings, which makes his eyes pop. "That's... that's where..."
That's where that thing was hanging on me...
"Yamato?" Sora says anxiously, eyebrows still furrowed with concern.
Yamato hears her and looks at her, but she seems so far away despite the fact that she's standing right in front of him. He murmurs distantly, "Takeru had...the same mark..."
"What do you mean?" Taichi is waving a hand in front of his face. "Hey, Yamato! Snap out of it, will you?!"
"In my dream," he says quietly, almost to himself. And then, louder: "Oi, Taichi."
"What?" He sounds a little exasperated now.
"Have you ever had dreams that...seem like they've happened before, in your life? Like...dreams that are real memories?"
This time, Taichi just seems confused. "Ok, dude, you've completely lost me now."
Yamato's gaze weaves over to Sora as if to ask her, but her expression remains the same. With a sigh, Yamato works his jaw. Whatever. He can figure this out after he finds Takeru. "Forget it. Let's just go."
He turns sharply, ignoring the hot, tingling sensation creeping across the upper part of his torso, and flings himself down the steps of that lead to the front entrance of his school. Tries to ignore the lingering sense of dread in his chest, an unpleasant echo of the terrible feeling in his dream. Takeru should be in school, right? Right. It's barely eleven in the morning. He'll just stop by his brother's school and pick him up, and they'll talk. There's no need to panic. Not yet.
However, as soon as he makes it across the schoolyard, Sora frantically reaches for his hand. "Yamato, wait. You're going to want to read this—"
"What is it?" He doesn't mean to snap, but the words come out harsh and quick once again.
For an answer, Sora thrusts his d-terminal into one of his hands. She must have pulled it out from his bag, which is still dangling in her hands. He'd already forgotten that she was holding it for him. He takes the bag from her grasp, and glances down at the device. The screen is lit up with a message that reads:
S.O.S. in the digital world.
Daisuke
Yamato's eyes widen again. The message includes the names of all of the Chosen. Except Takeru's.
Another beep sounds through the air, signaling that another message has been sent. This one is from Takeru, sent to only Yamato. Relief filters through him until he actually reads the words.
I'm with Daisuke. I need your help, Onii-san. Please.
