Bright Sky, Dark Clouds
The insidious glare of fluorescent signs and streetlights cast glaring light into every corner of the city, soft moonlight projecting muted shadows far from the reaches of the incandescent filaments lining the asphalt streets. Though the hour was late, traffic still hummed in the metropolis, the hustle of the day carried over into the night shift. Exhaust sent up choking smoke into the sky, dark blue-black and ominous, and the patter of commuters on foot nearly drowned out the bellow of car horns. In an apartment complex, one of thousands in Tokyo alone, a young teenager lay in bed, trying to sleep. The sounds of the city and the glare of the light filtered in through the blinds, drawn tight against noise and light pollution. In another apartment nearby, a television blared, pumping muted laughter in through the walls. He shivered, drawing his knees to his chest and clutching the sheets around his slightly muscular body. Perspiration broke out on his forehead, and the heat of a small fever made his dreams delusional and twisted. He cried out, jolting awake and sitting up with a start.
"No!" he shouted before realizing where he was. The door creaked open and a tired-looking man with short chestnut hair peered in, his white dress shirt rumpled and his tie hanging loose and crooked.
"You okay, sport?"
Taking a deep gulp of air, the young man nodded. "Yeah, sorry Dad."
His father nodded and shut the door, leaving the boy alone in his room again. He sat motionless for some time, waiting for his heartbeat to slow. Clad in an oversized cotton shirt and a pair of washed-out sweatpants, drenched in sweat, he slipped to his feet and onto the balcony adjacent his room. Standing on the concrete, leaning onto the metal railing and embracing the cool night air, he closed his eyes and uttered a deep sigh.
"Why won't this dream leave me alone?" he whispered, touching a hand to his forehead. A dull pain throbbed behind his temples, indicating either exhaustion, the first symbols of an oncoming bout of flu, or a combination of the two.
He crept back inside, sliding the door shut, only to turn and find a pair of deep brown eyes staring at him in the darkness, the owner of such eyes silhouetted by more darkness. The young man jumped, almost shouting again, before he realized who it was.
"Don't scare me like that! I could've woken half the city!" he hissed, climbing back onto his lumpy mattress.
"Sorry, Yamato. I didn't know you hadn't heard me. The dream came again, I presume?" Gabumon questioned, seating himself at the foot of the bed.
"It came, all right. And every time, it gets worse. I don't know what I'm going to do. And," Ishida Yamato added sleepily, "I think I'm coming down with something. Maybe I'll skip rehearsal tomorrow and just sleep. I could use it."
"Right, you haven't had a Saturday off in some time. Good night, my friend. Sleep well."
~*~
Gabumon sighed sharply from his place on the floor. This was not his world, and he was not accustomed to the manners and mannerisms of this world. He was perfectly content in sleeping on a pile of spare quilts and pillows from the linen closet. Beside the fact, it was Yamato's room and Yamato's bed and he was entitled to it. The young man above him was tossing in his fitful sleep. He whimpered pathetically, convulsing with shudders. He moaned in agony, then bolted upright and screamed. Gabumon pounced onto the bed and grabbed his companion by the shoulders, realizing he was still asleep.
"Yamato, wake up!" he commanded. Yamato's sapphire eyes snapped open, and still haunted by the visions of night he shrank back from Gabumon's touch, thin sheets clutched tightly to his heaving chest.
I have never in my life seen such fear in a young man.
Yamato could hardly breathe, his heart pounding in his breast. "Help me," he gasped, pain exploding through his being. "Help me, Gabumon."
"I don't know how, Yamato. But I won't let you be harmed. I'm sworn to protect you and that's what I'll do, so help me Gods of the Digital World."
Yamato flashed him a childlike smile, fear still brimming in his eyes, and plunged back into sleep.
~*~
Brilliant color, like a rainbow, surrounded the young woman in a comforting swathe. Soothing green was the most prominent, but vibrant pinks, sunny yellows, explosive reds and oranges added wailing high notes in this symphony of pigment. Muted blues, violets, and whites contributed a dulcet harmony as well. Sweet aromas hung in the air, a thick perfume blanketing everything in a mix of honeysuckle, rose, lilac, jasmine, and several others that weren't very discernible. The teenage girl sat on the service counter, swinging her legs back and forth impatiently. She knew it would annoy her mother, but she did it anyways. She tucked a piece of poppy-colored, throat length hair behind her ear, staring out the glass door through amber-brown eyes.
"Sora, have you unpacked that shipment of irises yet?"
"Yes, Mom. They're already in the case with the roses."
"All of them?"
"Yes, Mom."
"Put some into the case with the daffodils and forsythia, break up all that yellow."
"Yes, Mom."
A bright pink figure darted over the counter, ready to aid the girl, called Sora, in her small endeavor. Sora laughed as the creature tripped over the apron she sported, falling flat on the well-swept floor.
"Piyomon, I think that's a little big for you."
The fuchsia bird giggled, picking herself up. "I know, but your mother promised she'd take it in for me, that way I look like I'm one of the staff members…which I am, right Sora?"
"Of course, Piyomon."
Sora answered commands and questions absentmindedly now, gazing longingly at the clock, and then to the door again. It was almost that time, the exact moment she anticipated every Saturday. The second hand crept in infinitesimal motions towards the painted-on numbers, moving the other hands in turn. Just as that little hand reached its destination at the top of the clock and began to wheel around again the door opened with a musical jingle.
Sora yelped and vaulted over the counter, turning and leaning over the cash register nonchalantly, as if she had been there all morning. She smiled at the "customer," knowing what to say without conscious thought, their every word a line in a well-rehearsed play.
"Good morning. Can I help you with anything?"
"Just browsing, thanks. I'll let you know if I need anything."
She counted to five slowly in her head, waiting for him to turn his back. Piyomon watched their actions with great amusement, never realizing that their every movement was a trite ritual of flirtation. But the next portion of the scene was unrehearsed and ad lib. Sora would generally next point out that something was half off, and he would respond that he'd keep it in mind. But before the words even left her tongue, Sora noticed he hadn't moved, and a pained expression cut across his face.
"Are you all right?"
His sapphire eyes were bright with unshed tears of throbbing agony, his face sallow save the dark rings around those eyes. His playful expression had vanished, leaving one of fear and torture. Even his hair, a soft golden halo framing that handsome face, seemed limp and lifeless. He shook his head, casting his eyes towards the ground.
"I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do…"
"Actually, Sora, there is," Yamato mumbled, leaning against the counter for support as his knees went weak.
"I'd be glad to…" her voice trailed off as she became mesmerized by his haunting blue eyes. Her hand went to touch his, but he pulled it away at the slightest touch, panic shooting across his features.
"Will you…" Yamato's throat tightened as glimpses of his nightmare flashed across his memory, a waking horror that caused his words to freeze. He looked for an escape and found it in a green florist's bucket. Scooping up a handful of whatever flowers happened to be there, sunny roses of gold and crimson, and handed them to Sora.
"Will you accept these as my gift to you?"
Sora didn't have time to voice her answer. He had already tossed a wad of money onto the counter, turned on his heels, and fled. Piyomon looked up in confusion.
"So…does this mean he likes you or no?"
Sora shrugged, separating the bills and placing them into the cash drawer. There was a slip of paper mingled in around the money, one with perfectly formed script spelling out her name.
Sora~ Please meet me in the café three shops down from here when you can, in regards to an urgent matter that I cannot speak of at this time. I'll be waiting. ~Yamato
"Mom!" the girl cried, throwing her apron onto the counter. "I'm taking my lunch break!"
"But it's only ten o'clock, Sora," her mother pointed out.
"I'm meeting someone for brunch!"
"It's a boy, Mrs. Takenouchi!" Piyomon supplied.
"Well, in that case…" her mother appeared from the depths of the back room, a bright smile on her face. "Have a wonderful time, dear."
~*~
The café down the block was quite crowded, it always was. Sora stepped inside and felt as though she had been transported to another world. The walls and ceiling had white trellis over it all, with tiny white lights and sheer fabric draped from the ceiling. Silk vines crept up the walls, with soft silk flowers gently nodding towards the small, round tables. There was a little spot in the corner where a stone fountain gurgled melodiously, and the proprietor's choice of music was birdsong. The whole coffee shop had the appearance of an evergreen summer, and it was quite a popular little business venture. Sora glanced around quickly, then nodded at someone in the corner, approaching the table with care. Yamato's sapphire eyes flicked up at her in greeting as he nursed a cup of herbal tea.
"Hi," she murmured, pulling up a chair.
"I wasn't expecting you for another few hours. Go ahead and order something."
"You're not having anything?"
"I'm not feeling well, I think tea is all I can handle," he admitted.
They sat in silence for a few moments, both feeling equally awkward. Yamato set his mug down onto the table and started tracing the rim with a finger.
"Hey Sora? Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
Yamato took a deep, ragged breath before continuing, his eyes closing briefly. "What would you do if you knew the person you have loved all your existence showed no signs of reciprocating those feelings? That the only person you were sure they loved was anyone but yourself?"
Sora's heart skipped a few beats. She had always thought that about him, but how could he have known that? Was it possible he felt the same way?
"Well," she said slowly, "maybe you should talk to that person, get to know them better. See if maybe, deep down, they've felt the same way and the both of you were too scared to ever say anything. I don't know, I'm not good at questions like this."
Yamato smiled at her, letting his mask of poise slip, revealing for the briefest of moments the affections he had for her.
"I think you're right. Can I ask you something else?"
"Would I say no to you?"
"I guess not. Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night? My dad's working late, so it'll just be us…well, and Gabumon too but…um, yeah."
Sora flashed him a warm smile. "I'd like that. Sixish?"
"Sure."
She slipped her hand into the one he had resting on the table involuntarily, and this time he didn't shy away. He gave it a small pulse, left money on the table for the two mugs of tea and Sora's coffee cake, which she hadn't touched the duration of the half hour they were together, and headed for the door.
"See you tomorrow night," he whispered.
"Until then, Yamato."
Sora sighed happily, resting her head in her hands.
I think that's a date. Oh dear Pyokomon, I have a date with Yamato. Tomorrow.
It took all of her willpower to refrain from shrieking with happiness inside the little café.
~*~
Yamato sighed, flopping down onto his bed. Gabumon, who had been reclining on his mattress with a thick book, glanced up at his human partner.
"I thought you were sick. Why'd you go out today?"
"I am somewhat sick, but I'm feeling a little better, thanks. Besides, I didn't want to let a friend down. Oh! And Gabumon?"
"Hmm?"
"I have a favor to ask of you."
"Name it."
"Will you, um, kind of be my, um, waiter tomorrow night? I'm having company and I want it to be…nice?"
Blushing, Yamato begged Gabumon with a pleading look in his eyes.
"It depends. Who are you having over?"
Now Yamato was bright red. "Sora."
"Oh. Do you have any idea what you're cooking?"
"I hadn't thought that far. Maybe Mimi has some ideas. I'll give her a call."
"That's using your noodle!"
"Hello?"
"Hi Mimi."
"Yama-sama! Hi. What's up?"
"You're the cooking buff, right? I can't think of anything to whip up for a, um, date I have tomorrow."
"Home-cooked meal for your little lady, eh? Who's the lucky girl that snagged you?"
"Well, she hasn't snagged me yet."
"But who is she?"
"Sora," he said cautiously.
"Yama! I'm soooo happy! I've been waiting for like forever for you to make your move on Sora I don't know how she couldn't see that you were like totally staring at her all that time but then again Taichi was like making eyes at her and I have the perfect recipe I'll email it to you right now."
"Great, thanks so much Mimi."
"No problem. Now get off the phone, I only have one line."
~*~
Gabumon watched Yamato with one open eye, making sure the young man fell asleep effortlessly, without any signs that his dream would return. He hoped it was just his subconscious trying to tell him something, perhaps about his love life.
Maybe that's it. Maybe Yamato's dreams are telling him to hurry up and ask Sora out.
Yamato had even seemed confident that his troubled visions were over now that he had invited the girl he secretly admired over. But sure as the sun rises in the east, only a few hours after slipping into unconscious repose, Yamato found himself caught up in his dreams again.
The
forest? Again? Please, please not again. I know what will happen. I'll be
revisited by my former, callous, evil self and my devil-may-care form will maim
me, toss me to his hoard of slutty whores who ravage my body and kill me. I
wait for the sound of someone treading on fallen leaves, the shriveled corpses
of summers gone by, holding my breath. The sound never comes.
"Stop it! Stop it!" What's this? This isn't what should
happen. What's going on?
A boy stands in front of others, a malevolent grin on his
pale face. That boy…that boy is me. This is the battle I provoked. I
can't live this day over!
"Yamato, what is with you?"
Taichi. Foolish Taichi. Run while you can, Taichi, before
I hurt you, my friend.
"Yamato, this is silly. Fighting will get us nowhere,"
Sora's gentle voice added.
"Yamato, I'm going to tell Momma you've been fighting!"
Takeru whined.
My younger form lunged at Taichi, who went sprawling. We
grappled on the ground, throwing punches and instigating bruises. Above the
verdant canopy, Wargreymon and Metalgarurumon clashed.
"Terra force!"
The blinding surge of energy was streaking towards my
body. I froze in panic, and from the corner of my eye I caught a flash of red,
and blue, and yellow hurtle towards the blast. To protect me.
"SORA, NO!"
My preteen self was indifferent, standing in a huff in
the corner. I cradled Sora in my arms. Tears flow down my cheeks. Her figure
wavered from her tomboyish eleven-year-old body and her lithe, graceful
fifteen-year-old one.
"Yamato…I…I…love you."
Her body went limp in my arms. Gennai appeared, whipping
me to my feet.
"Murderer! You killed her!"
"No! No, I love her!"
"You destroyed a life! You're no better than the monsters
you fight! You shall pay for your crime, pay with your life."
Gabumon was shaking the teen's shoulders, trying to force him from his nightmare. Yamato was howling in agony, writhing and convulsing.
"Yamato! Wake up!"
His sapphire eyes snapped open instantly, and he uttered a bloodcurdling moan as tears spilled down his cheeks, heaving sobs wracking his body.
"I didn't…I didn't…I didn't!" he wailed, clinging to Gabumon like a small child.
"Didn't what? Yamato?!"
The boy suddenly leapt to his feet and bolted for his bedroom door, and moments later Gabumon could hear him gagging and coughing. Yamato returned, looking wretched.
"I can't do it, Gabumon. I can't tell Sora I love her. I can't ever tell her," he whispered wildly as his tears dropped like the rain that had started to pelt from the heavens outside.
~*~
Sora stared nervously at her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth. With a mouth full of mint-flavored foam and a stomach full of butterflies, she listened to Piyomon chatter about her evening plans.
"Sora, it's so exciting! A date!"
"Mm-hmm," she answered through a mouthful of toothpaste.
"I wish boyfriends weren't such a human thing. I'd kind of like to have a boyfriend."
Sora spat out her mouthful of foam and stared at her digital companion, taken slightly aback. "He's not my boyfriend, Piyomon!"
"Well, maybe he will be after tonight. You never know. That Crest of Love may be of some use to you other than allowing me to digivolve to ultimate."
"Piyomon!"
"It's true!"
Maybe it is true. I sort of hope it's true. I mean, why
else would he come into the shop and pretend to flirt with me all the time?
Sora picked up a bottle of perfume and spritzed the air in front of her, stepping through a floral-scented mist. She flicked a strand of gingery hair behind her ear and executed a small turn to show off her outfit for Piyomon. The fuchsia bird nodded in approval at the sheer, pale green, sleeveless shirt, denim pedal pushers, and sandals.
"Too informal?"
"Nah, this is Yamato we're talking about. He's probably in a black turtleneck and khakis."
~*~
Sora struggled to resist the temptation of giggling hysterically when Yamato opened the door, dressed in a black turtleneck and khakis.
"Hey."
"I'm not too early, am I?" she asked nervously, wringing her hands.
"Oh, um, no. C'mon in."
Yamato waited patiently for Sora to slide her shoes off, then courteously led her to the dining room/kitchen/living room. Sora gasped in surprise at the décor. Someone had draped a linen tablecloth over the Ishidas' rough kitchen table and set it for two. Candles winked in the dim light, and a vase of roses showered petals down onto the tablecloth. Soft music filtered in, classical, string quartet with piano. Gabumon appeared almost magically and pulled their chairs out for them.
"Hello, I'm Gabumon, and I'll be your waiter for the evening. I suppose you'll be wanting the entrée du jour."
They nodded, Yamato winking slyly at his partner.
"Very well. I'll have those out shortly."
"Yamato, this is so beautiful. You really didn't have to do this."
He smiled, the action causing him to wince ever so slightly. "I wanted to. You're always doing kind things for the others so I thought I'd return the favor."
Gabumon expertly slid the plates down onto the table and dragged a stand with a bottle of sparkling water chilling in it next to the table.
"I'll be in your dad's room watching American imports if you need me. I want to see what crazy antics Drew Carey gets into tonight," Gabumon whispered hoarsely.
"Thanks."
"Yamato, you didn't do all this yourself, did you?" Sora asked, fiddling with her napkin.
"Um, well, Mimi helped a little. She's a real cooking connoisseur."
"Oh?"
Gabumon slipped into the master bedroom and pressed an ear to the door.
"You should have just left the door open," Piyomon hissed, entering through the open window. "Don't mind me, I just want to eavesdrop, same as you."
"Well, keep your voice down, or else Yamato is going to hear us and bust us!"
The pink bird and the reptilian dog leaned against the wooden door, silently praying it would not suddenly swing open, sending them into the hallway and revealing themselves to the subjects of their eavesdropping.
Sora got up to put her dishes in the sink, only to have Yamato wave her off, taking them with his own.
"Yamato, really, why are you doing all of this?"
"I told you, Sora. I felt like I owed you something."
I have to tell her, but I can't. I don't want my nightmares to come true. You always hurt the one you love.
Sora knew he was hiding something from her. There was some underlying motive for all his insinuations and subtle flirtations.
"Write any new songs lately?" she questioned, trying to ease the mounting tension in the room. He nodded curtly, as though immersed in thought.
"I've got half of the chords written for a piece on acoustic. No lyrics yet, though."
"Can I hear it?"
Yamato flashed her a bright smile. "Really? Yeah, I guess. Sure."
He led her down the hall; she noticed the sparseness of the apartment's décor. It reminded her of a prison. To Yamato, it nearly was.
She sat on the edge of his bed, the sheets rumpled and hastily thrown back onto the mattress. He pulled up a desk chair and unpacked an acoustic guitar, dipping his hand into a pocket for a pick. His fingers nimbly ran along the frets, and the humble beginnings of a beautiful song poured from the instrument. Sora closed her eyes and listened intently, only opening them again after hearing Yamato sigh with annoyance and strum a sharp chord in frustration.
"That…that…I'm speechless."
"I'm, uh, writing it for you," he mumbled, blushing.
"Hey Yama?"
"Hmm?"
"Yesterday, you asked me what I would do if the person I loved showed no sign that they loved me in return. I think I can answer that a little better today."
Yamato shot her a puzzled look, sliding the guitar strap off his shoulders and placing the instrument back into its case. Sora grabbed the chair back and dragged it across the room, so Yamato was nearly nose-to-nose with her.
His eyes are so blue. A beautiful blue, a blue I fell in love with.
Sora leaned closer to him, her lips just barely brushing over his. Yamato panicked for an instant, but realized deep in his heart this was what he wanted, and yielded. He leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her slender waist and pulling her onto his lap. She wound her own arms around his neck and shoulders and kissed a little more hungrily.
"Yamato…I…love…you…" she managed to say around kisses.
Now, tell her now, you idiot.
The words leapt from his throat, he was about to utter them when the shatter of glass caused them to die on his tongue.
~*~
Sora jumped, forcing her to break their kiss. Yamato held a finger up to silence her, and together they crept down the hall. There they found Gabumon and Piyomon sprawled across the hallway floor, the remains of a broken juice glass scattered around them. A guilty look spread on both creatures' faces.
"Um, hi, don't mind us, we weren't listening in on you or anything," Gabumon said nervously.
"Smooth, Gabumon. Really smooth," Piyomon groaned.
"Piyomon, what are you doing here?" Sora asked.
"Yeah, about that. I was coming to tell Gabumon that V-mon was throwing a party at Daisuke's over the weekend and that he had to bring the soda," she fibbed.
"Liar," Yamato said. "Pick this mess up and find something better to do than listen in on us."
"Right away, Mother," Gabumon sighed in annoyance.
Yamato and Sora trudged back to the room, shutting the door. Yamato sighed and flopped down onto the bed, next to Sora. She glanced over at him and smiled.
Now, Yamato. Tell her now!
"Sora?"
She turned her head, and Yamato nearly forgot how to breathe. The pale light from a few dim lamps cast a copper-colored glow to her ginger hair, and set lights in her amber-brown eyes that reflected the love in her heart.
"Sora…"
She smiled again, and Yamato lost his cool. He felt sick with tension, panicking.
"Yamato, you're so articulate," Sora teased, touching his hand with hers briefly.
"About that kiss, Sora, and you telling me you loved me."
She blushed, the rosy glow spreading across her face. "Oh, that."
Yamato was a brilliant crimson, looking ever so sexy. Sora stared at him, her heart racing in her chest. The lights in the room highlighted his golden hair, soft tendrils framing his beautiful face. Deep sapphire eyes so full of affection and a touch of nervousness stared back at her.
The next move was his. He turned and grabbed her by the waist, gently sliding her closer to his own body. She could hear her heart beating louder and louder, and then realized his heartbeat was pulsing in time with hers, just as loudly. He leaned over and whispered to her, with all ardor and conviction, "I love you with all my heart, Sora."
And with those words he kissed her, raking his lips over hers. He wrapped his arms around her possessively, cradling her warm body against his. She toyed with a few locks of his hair, her own lips moving just as fervently as his.
Neither heard the soft creak of Yamato's bedroom door, nor did they hear quiet giggling as Piyomon and Gabumon watched from the hallway.
"See? The Chosen Children of Friendship and Love belong together. It's like Hope and Light," Piyomon whispered.
"Yeah, but I don't recall Patamon or Tailmon ever mentioning Takeru and Hikari kissing like that," Gabumon hissed, motioning at the two teenagers.
Yamato broke the kiss gently, Sora nuzzling him tenderly. He
smiled at her, thinking to himself, my nightmares are over because the girl
in my dreams, the girl of my dreams, is part of my life and no one can ever
change that. My bright sky has driven off the dark clouds.
~*~
Did you get the
little word play? Bright sky, Sora is the Japanese word for sky, oh, nevermind.
I hope y'all liked this; it went through a whole lot of revisions before the
final product. It originally was supposed to be darker but li'l Iori (Cody)
protested because he's not too fond of the dark. So I put a nightlight the size
of the Bat Signal on it.
Sorato forever,
two hearts together as one, Love and Friendship. ~Lia