Yamato is 20.
Miyako, Hikari and Takeru are 17.
Special Thanks: Goes out to Ivy (Daikari-chan), who gave me the
idea to write this in the first place. She's my odd couple muse.
I hope I did the idea justice.
Confessions of a Broken Soul
by Melissa
Have you ever thought about the irony in life? Sometimes it's funny, and other times it can be down right painful. For example, it was the funny type of ironic when we thought we had defeated Myotismon. We thought we had won, but then we had to turn right around and fight him all over again. I didn't think it was funny at the time, mind you, but I can look back on it now and laugh.
And an example of a painful type of ironic is when I fell in love.
I'm sure you're wondering why I say that. To be perfectly honest, the painful part was because she was in love with someone else. The ironic part was that it was with my younger brother.
Miyako and Takeru had been dating for nearly two years. While she loved my brother with all her heart and soul, I always got the impression that those feelings were not returned. Takeru liked Miyako, but was not in love with her. His heart was taken by Taichi's little sister. I think the real reason Takeru was dating Miyako was because Hikari was dating Daisuke at the time.
You can chalk that up to envy if you like, or resentment. Maybe it even was for a while. I wish that that's all it was now.
My suspicions were confirmed a week ago.
*Flashback*
It had been all over the news for the past couple of days. The worst storm of the year, and possibly the decade, was bearing down on the city. Reports had said that there would be anywhere from 28 to 36 inches of snow along with sub zero temperatures due to wind chill.
Yamato stepped out of a house that belonged to the drummer of his band. They had a late practice and the snow had already begun to fall. Yamato shielded his eyes from the torrent of flakes descending from the heavens. Even thought the storm had just started, the snow was piling up rapidly. Slinging his guitar case over his shoulder, he began to walk quickly in the direction of his house.
'Tis no night out for man nor beast,' he thought, paraphrasing a cartoon movie he and Takeru used to watch when they were little.
Yamato could barely see a few feet in front of him. The wind whipped up suddenly, causing him to clutch his coat tighter to his body.
"I'm glad I don't live much further," he mumbled to himself, concentrating on the little icicles that were forming on the ends of his spiky blonde hair. He didn't notice someone was walking directly at him until it was too late.
Yamato's knee hit the pavement hard after he collided with the stranger.
"Why don't you watch where you're...." Yamato cut his sentence off as he got a better look at who had run into him.
It was Miyako, her face was streaked with tears.
Yamato's brow creased with concern. "Miyako? What are you doing out in this storm? And without a coat?" he asked, eyeing her up and down.
"S-sorry," she stammered, starting to back away. Yamato couldn't decide if it was from the cold or the fact that she was obviously upset.
He reached out and gently grabbed her wrist. "Wait. It's ok, there's no harm done. You still haven't told me what you're doing out here."
"I...um...," a fresh wave of tears flowed from her eyes.
Yamato removed his guitar case, set it down, and then removed his coat. He then draped it over Miyako's shoulders.
"Why don't you come with me back to my house. That way we can get out of this mess and then you can tell me what's bothering you."
"I don't know....," she managed to choke out.
"Please? I'm worried about you."
After a moment, she nodded numbly. Yamato picked up his guitar with one arm and wrapped the other around Miyako's waist, leading her towards his home.
***
Once inside his home, Yamato went over to the fireplace and lit a fire. After warming his hands for a second, he turned to his guest.
"You can come in out of the doorway, you know."
Miyako stepped forward tentatively, while looking around.
"This house is yours?"
Yamato smiled. "Yeah. Being a young, successful musician does have some perks."
Miyako went over and sat on the couch that was perpendicular to the fireplace. She ran her hands through her hair several times.
He went over and sat next to her. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"
"What makes you think something's wrong?" she asked, trying to play dumb.
"The fact that you were out in a snow storm with no jacket. Plus the fact that you keep running your hands through your hair. I've noticed that you only really do that when you're nervous or upset about something."
She laughed. It was a short, bitter sound. "Why do you have to be the one that's so damn observant?"
Yamato's brow furrowed, both from confusion and the sting of Miyako's words.
Miyako looked at him and then sighed. "I'm...I'm sorry, Yama. I'm just really angry and upset right now. But that doesn't give me the right to take it out on you though."
The young musician went over and sat next to the keeper of sincerity and love. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"
"Might as well," she said with a bitter edge to her voice. "You'll find out soon enough anyway."
Yamato sat back and waited for her to continue, staring at her with cobalt blue eyes.
"Takeru and I broke up."
"Oh Miyako..."
She went on. "It appears that he's in love with Hikari. I can't say that it comes as a shock to me. I've seen the way they look at each other, but I didn't want to believe it. I want so badly to be able to blame him or her for this, but I can't. You can't blame someone for how they feel or don't feel. Takeru just wasn't in love with me."
"You loved him though?"
"Yes," she said as tears began to trace their ways down her cheeks.
Yamato hated to see the girl he loved in so much pain. Reaching out, he hugged her. She didn't respond at first, but then broke down completely. Choked sobs emanated from her as she clutched him tight. He could do nothing but hold her, knowing that nothing he could say would make her feel any better at this moment.
"Why?" she asked through her tears. "What did I do to deserve this?"
"I don't think it's a question of being punished, Miyako. Sometimes these things just happen. I wish I could offer you a better answer, but it's like you said, you can't control who you fall in love with, or who falls in love with you," he replied. 'Something I know all too well,' he added to himself mentally.
Miyako's crying slowed and her eyelids had grown heavy. She was mentally and physically exhausted.
"I'm so afraid...." she whispered, gripping Yamato's shirt tightly as if he was going to disappear.
"Of what?"
"That I won't find someone to love, who will love me in return." Her eyes closed as sleep finally claimed her.
Yamato didn't reply because he knew she couldn't hear him. He simply watched the rhythm of her breathing and the tear stains that were beginning to dry on her cheeks.
'I love you,' he thought.
Just then, Yamato heard the soft whirring of his cd player. He had it on a timer. As he listened, one of his favorite songs began to play.
Yamato drifted off to sleep as 'Song For A Winter's Night' by Sarah McLachlan played and he held his beloved in his arms.
The lamp is burnin' low upon my table top
The snow is softly fallin'
The air is still within the silence of my room
I hear your voice softly callin'
If I could only have you near
To breathe a sigh or two
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
Upon this winter night with you
The smoke is rising in the shadows overhead
My glass is almost empty
I read again between the lines upon the page
The words of love you sent me
If I could know within my heart
That you were lonely too
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
Upon this winter night with you
The fire is dying now, my lamp is growing dim
The shades of night are liftin'
The mornin' light steals across my windowpane
Where webs of snow are driftin'
If I could only have you near
To breathe a sigh or two
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
And to be once again with with you
To be once again with with you
The next morning, the young musician was awoken by a severe draft. As he got his bearings, he noticed that Miyako was no longer beside him. He looked around frantically and it was then that he saw the source of the cold. The door was swinging back and forth due to the wind.
He ran to the door and looked outside, hoping that she hasn't gone far. The blizzard had grown worse though and Yamato couldn't see anything past the wall of white that confronted him.
*End Flashback*
That was the last time I would see her.
I searched my house for any signs of her, even though it was pretty obvious that she was gone. All I found was a piece of paper on one of my end tables.
I still hold that little folded up note that bears my name. I look at it again for what must be the millionth time.
'I'm sorry,' and 'Please forgive me' where the only words written on the inside.
She was looking for forgiveness, for some sort of closure, be it from me or maybe from some Higher Powers that she had somehow angered. Why else would she be punished with a shattered heart and broken soul, if she didn't do anything wrong?
Days went by and no one had heard or seen anything of Miyako. I sat by my phone nearly 24/7, hoping, praying that someone would call and tell me that she was all right.
That call would never come though. The one that did brought me unparalleled grief.
You see, her body was discovered yesterday only a few blocks away from my home. She had frozen to death out in the storm. Well, that's what the official report had said anyway. Her soul was dead long before the cold penetrated her body and stopped her breathing and her heart.
I wonder if she ever found the answers to the questions she posed to me while I held her. I hope she finally found peace.
Maybe I should have vanquished my demons and told her how I really felt. Perhaps then she wouldn't have left and would still be safe in my arms, rather than gone from this world forever. I had my chance and I let it, and her, slip away.
The irony of it all makes me want to break down and cry. That is, if I had any tears left to shed.
I thought confession was supposed to be good for the soul.
The End
More Author's Notes: Questions? Comments? Concerns?
"Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets."