The Eyes of a Child
"All I want is to go home… I want to go home and see my mother and grandfather. I want to see my mother in the kitchen, fixing her wonderful food. I want to practice my lessons with Grandfather, learning helpful hints in life as well. He is so wise, so wise… What would he say in a situation like this?
He wouldn't be in a situation like this. He wouldn't be able to give me advice to a problem this immense. Immense… big… large… confusing… He wouldn't be able to help me at all--because he can't. This is my battle. This is my fight, my obstacle, my life. Now why is everything so… dark?
It wasn't so dark a moment ago. What happened? Where am I? Why is it so dark? And it's so… thick… I can't breath so easily… too thick. What's going on? Why can't I see anything! It smells so much like… like…" the dark green eyes of Iori flashed open, fear increasing as he saw nothing but black. His hands dug into the ground beneath him and his heart raced into his throat. Nothing but black. He saw nothing but black.
"H-help!" he shouted through the darkness, hoping for a ray of hope to guide him out and into safety. His breath drew in a fair amount of the thick smoke and he tried to cough it out. It burned his eyes; made his mind pulse tremendously to prevent him from thinking clearly. Fear caught him by the neck and squeezed hard. Iori felt around the ground for any clue to where he could be; only found dirt--maybe it was ashes? He rubbed his eyes and smeared the dirt or ash onto his skin.
"Anybody!" he tried again. He began to crawl blindly through the thick haze, trying to take in as little breath as needed. What had happened? Yamato. He remembered Yamato's voice before the deafening crash sounds.
He managed to find a lower stretch of land and fell onto it, breathing the little fresh air he had. His eyes still burned from the smoke, but he had gotten out of its thickness. Pushing himself to move again, he began to look for another clearer area; didn't seem to find one. After a fair amount of minutes, he collapsed onto the ground, another twang of pain filled his mind. Iori then felt his mind cave into blackness.
Ishida Yamato felt the roots of a tree underneath his fingers and his eyes blinked open. They adjusted to see the smoke above his head; the flames were nowhere in sight. The smoke itself wasn't too thick. How in the world had this happened?
"Damn it," he swore, half because he was in pain, half because he knew he had lost someone. Takeru/Iori/Taichi/Takeru. How could he have let his little brother slip into the world that never ceased to amaze oneself? He let his brother down. For all he knew, Takeru was freezing to death--or he could have already been dead. No… his brother was stranger than that. He was stronger than that.
Yamato rolled onto his side and gazed through the burnt grass. Smoke, smoke, fallen trees, the ruins of what was perfect, smoke. Staring into a world of death, he then convinced himself to get up. He convinced himself to find Takeru, to find Iori, the child who he lost under his watch.
His mind led him through the blankets of ash. It also caused him to stop when the pain became too unbearable. Just when he was about to give up altogether, a darkened figure was displayed through the toxic mist. Takeru…no… Iori. A smile fleetly decorated his face as he gathered the energy to get to the fallen youth. Yamato's arms fell over Iori and pulled him close for comfort. At least he wasn't alone.
Iori's eyes flashed open again. They searched for an answer; he got Yamato. "What happened?"
"Ah, the DigiWorld is in shambles, we're all separated from each other. I can't find Gabumon, I can't find anyone…. Can't find Takeru…" Yamato rambled on for about a minute, listing all the things that he thought was happening. "People are still debating on whether a tomato is really a vegetable or a fruit. Oh yeah, and the London Bridge is falling down."
Giving him a look, Iori raised his eyebrow. Yamato chuckled and pulled Iori into a hug. "Are you okay?"
"Just peachy," he remarked, the same kind of sarcasm that Yamato had.
"Then let's…" Yamato's eyes trailed off and squinted into the smoke. He discovered the flames and sighed. "Well, let's go the other way. Maybe we can--"
A loud snap broke his words in half like a toothpick and a branch fell lifelessly beside them, a couple feet away. Fire danced on the dead branch and Yamato looked up to see that the fire had been above them all this time. He whispered into Iori's ear, "Whatever you do…" he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with smoke rather than air, "I warn you, do not look up."
Once the child nodded, Yamato rose to his feet and began to rush ahead. Iori lingered for only a brief minute. He then began to run right behind Yamato, jumping over the same branches and fallen trees, ducking around the limbs and pushing through the bushes. No matter how many times Yamato looked up, Iori never did.
Iori felt his heart pulsing within every inch of his body-- or maybe it was pain? It could have been the fear that lurked in his mind. Or the tension that cut off the feeling in his legs, causing his steps to be weak and clumsy. His feet pounded the ground in a mad fury, trying his best to keep up with Yamato. A strange feeling swept through his mind; wasn't fear, wasn't pain or confusion. It was the kind of feeling a youth would get when he was finally doing something on his own.
Pride.
He had been carrying himself without anyone holding his hand. At last, he was able to convince himself that he could do it on his own. All on his own. His act of pride would have continued, but the older, stronger, and more determined blond in front of him collapsed onto the solid ground. Iori halted his steps and looked down at him.
"Yamato!" he reached for his hand and tried to pull him up. The weight brought the child down instead. Yamato's face was red from heat and exhaustion. Beads of sweat drenched the teenager's face and his lips were dry, his breathing unstable and short. Iori searched for his pulse on the nook of his neck and darted his eyes around for any sign of danger.
Unfortunately, there was danger. Bright flames danced in Iori's eyes. They did a dance of fear, seemingly moving its way towards the two helpless boys. Iori's green pools faded into a dark color, widening in fear, carrying tears from pain. His hands wrapped around Yamato's face frame and he shook him gently.
"Yamato! Please get up!" Iori's voice cracked and tears slipped down his cheeks, cleaning off a trail of ash. The blond slowly blinked his eyes open, but shut them tightly as if it caused pain to see. "Come on, Yamato. You have to get up!" he called to the fallen one.
Yamato recognized something about that voice. A child's voice. A plead. Takeru! "Takeru?" he mumbled, inhaling a gasp of polluted air.
"N-no," Iori answered, glad he could at least speak. "It's me, Iori… please get up, now…" He looked up again at the deadly fire. A hard squeeze pulled his attention back to Yamato, the blue eyes greeted his green.
"Let's go," he pushed himself off the ground, holding his head. "We have to find them." Takeru.
Again, Yamato led the way, coughing into his hands and holding his sides/head. Iori followed his steps carefully, keeping his eyes sheltered from the smoke. Soon, they found themselves lost in a blanket of smoke on their hands and knees. Bother were exhausted from this disaster. Both were ready to go home.
Their lungs ached; yearned for fresh air. The burning in their eyes didn't help much, either. Yamato's mind was clotted with pain and confusion; an ache he never felt before. Never had he thought this would happen; never thought of being separated from his brother… again. It never occurred to him that this feeling was some type of failure. He had failed to keep Takeru safe. And now, Iori was in danger, yet he couldn't do anything to repair the mistakes. He let Iori down. He let Taichi down--and Takeru. Everyone.
A loud crack broke Yamato's thoughts while the sight of an enflamed tree branch broke from its tree. Within a split second, the Ishida jumped towards Iori and tackled him to the ground before the flaming branch collided with the ground, just three feet away. Another branch fell behind them a ways and surrounded them in flames. Iori's eyes grew wide and his hands clamped down on Yamato's arm.
There was that dance of death again….
"Thanks, Yamato…." Iori whispered, not sure why. It could have been a … good-bye.
Yamato shook his head, sensing the fact that he was trying to say his farewells before they were needed. "Don't start saying that--we're going to get out of this."
As much as Iori wanted to believe him, he couldn't. Not this time. For minutes they tried to get out of the danger zone; led themselves to even more flames and smoke. Half of those minutes they spent on the ground, trying to keep their spirits high, trying to get a breath of fresh air, trying to survive. If they were going to get out of the mess, why haven't they gotten out already? Yamato led them into complete danger; danger wrapped around death.
"Yamato," the child looked up at him, tears beginning to slip from his eyes. "I don't want to say it… But we can't get out of this one."
The blond looked down at the kid in his arms; stared right into the green eyes that were full of perturbation and youth. It reminded him so much of his little brother. Takeru. The day that Takeru depended on Yamato to pull him out of jeopardy was the day he realized there was always a way out of things. Back in the days where the seven Digidestined were lost in the Digital World, struggling to survive, struggling to get back home, was when Takeru needed his older brother the most. And Yamato always was there, always holding him in his arms, always telling him things were okay.
Yamato furrowed his eyebrows and felt his eyes burn with tears. Back in the Digital World… back in the situation that placed him in charge of a young life… back to the thoughts that had entrapped him in doubt. He wanted to think he was brave again, but he wasn't as brave as he thought he was… Thanks to him, he and Iori were trapped in death's grasp.
Another branch dropped down near them and Yamato tightened his grip around Iori and looked down at him again. "I… I'm sorry, Iori…"
The youth winced from hearing another branch tumble and jerked his head around to get a face full of embers. A painful cry came from Iori as he turned his head back to the other, burying his mildly burnt cheeks in the cloth of his shirt. Yamato felt the grip of his younger friend and stared hard at the fire. He clenched his eyes shut and set his chin on Iori's head.
"We shouldn't give up…" murmured Iori. Again, Yamato looked down and stared into the gentle green eyes that were destroyed by the fright. Those eyes. The eyes of a child had more power than a sword; more meaning than words. Branches crashed into the already fallen ones and blew cinders and sparks towards the two. Yamato winced with Iori and took him into his arms, standing up.
"No matter what you think is happening," he said to the boy, "keep your head tucked and don't look up."
Iori stared in confusion before nodding. Forcefully, Yamato cradled him to his chest and jerked his head to rid the hair in his eyes. He prepared to jump but Iori looked up and caused him to stop.
"Don't you think your gel is flammable?" he questioned.
Yamato froze in his stance and looked down at Iori, giving him a look. "Stop trying to crack jokes in the middle of a ring of fire," he shook his head and held onto the friend tightly. He took a breath and stepped towards the flames. Within the next step, he pushed himself into a half-sprint and jumped towards the weakest part of the fire. Tucking his own head onto the youth's, they progressed through the heat, their cheeks being burnt and their clothes beginning to singe. Just as Yamato couldn't take it anymore, he started to fall towards the ground--there was no sign of the end of the pain.
They hit the ground hard, Iori above Yamato, and rolled into the flames. The blond fell on his back, unsure of how he ended up that way and felt his grip on Iori slip. Rolling to a halt out of the flames, Iori lifted his soot-smeared face to look for Yamato… only he couldn't find him at all. Flames started to spread throughout the area, provoking Iori to back up. His eyes searched for the familiar form but failed on every account.
"Yamato!" he dug his fingers into the ground and struggled to his feet. "Yamato!" He began to crawl back into the flames, but a loud thud sounded to the right of him. Jerking his head to the noise, Iori caught the glimpse of a smile on Yamato's face before he dropped to the ground. Smoke rose into the air while the two pulled each other away from the fire.
Minutes later, the edge of the forest was seen through Yamato's misty blue eyes. A smile lurked onto his face and he gazed down at Iori. Without words, he took the tired child's hand and walked towards the end, the place where death could no longer grasp them in its chilled hand. The place where they could be safe, be together, be able to find the others. They reached the last of the trees and Yamato heard the empty gasp of Iori.
Before them laid no land of green and wondrous things. There was no picnic basket, no radio, none of the other Digidestined. No smiling faces, no laughter, no food of any sort… nothing. Within their eyes, they saw destruction. The land was torn from place from the impact of the crash. Flames enriched the large crater, the smoke rising in sign of death and devastation.
One could only wonder how much demise was spread throughout the Digital World. The cessation of sound crawled through the land, only the snapping of branches and the crackles of flames filled the minutes. To the left, the mountains remained standing; no flames had caught up to that area. So maybe they're safe. The right was the endless valley; a drop off that led down to the lowlands of the world, also untouched by flames, but also dark with death. In front of the two youths remained the other forest, burnt… ruined… left to die forever.
Yamato looked behind him, his cheeks smudged with soot, his eyes now shining from tears that read agony. The flames behind them still burned with great power, seemingly never-ending, taking down the trees and searing the shrubbery. His hands clamped down on Iori's shoulders as he turned to look at the destruction in front of him. A sickening jerk of pain twisted in his stomach and he lurched forward.
What if Takeru didn't make it?
Iori looked up at Yamato, knowing what was running through his mind. Though he couldn't relate, he knew that it was hard of thinking the worst of a loved one. He stared at his feet, then, thinking of the others. Wondering if somebody was somehow looking down at them, he turned back to Yamato. "We made it, Yamato."
The blond eyed Iori and had to crack a smile at how much the kid tried to relieve him. "Yeah… we did." There was a strong moment of silence where even the fire seemed to die away. He looked down and felt his eyes burn with worry.
Iori winced mentally at the look of his friend and fastened his arms around him in a tight hug. He knew that no matter how hard he would try, he couldn't shake the feeling of worry off of Yamato's mind about his little brother. All he could have done was offer an act of kindness in a way of saying things will be okay. To his surprise, he felt Yamato's arms around his body as the hug was returned. He didn't say anything when he sensed tears fall onto his head; didn't say anything when he heard the older boy sob. All he did was shed a tear with him.
Utter fright was shared between the two. Neither knew where the others could be, whether they were alive, or whether they were looking for them. They just knew that somehow… they had to find the others. Somehow…
And with that thought in mind, Yamato pulled away from Iori and cupped his hands to his mouth. "Takeru! Taichi, Sora! Can anyone hear me!"
His echo replied faintly, drifting away just as his courage had. Iori watched him begin to stagger towards the left, apparently going to try to find Takeru. He rubbed his eyes to be brave and started to follow him, calling out for names, hoping for responses. When they didn't get anything but the wind, they tried again. Soon, they wandered towards the valley side of what used to be their picnic place. Yamato called again but was returned with nothing.
When life refuses to deliver an intermission in destiny, Yamato made his way through the ruined land, clear a path for yourself.
"Yamato," Iori whispered, his voice tired and wanting a break. "It's getting dark…"
The blond turned his head towards the sky, observing the smoke, noticing the darkness. He then looked at the forests, both burning angrily in the distance. His hand released itself from a tight fist and dropped to his side.
"First thing tomorrow, we find Takeru," he muttered and started to walk over the rubble.
Iori started to follow, but he immediately froze. "Did you feel that?" he said lowly.
"Feel wh--" Yamato's words were suddenly cut off by the rumble of the ground. Both snapped their heads up to the sky, expecting to see those fireballs all over again. Instead, the ground only shook some more.
"An earthquake?!" Yamato yelled above the noise. The ground shifted tremendously, knocking them both to the ground. The blue-eyed child tried to stand up; failed. Then tried to move; it didn't work. His eyes shot in the direction of the younger boy, seeing the fear rise all over again. What happened to the safety? Sounds of cracking ground widened his eyes and his hands dug into the ground. Just as soon as the quake started… it ended… but strangely, it seemed as if it weren't over.
"Are you okay?" Yamato climbed to his feet, stepping towards Iori.
Iori looked up and didn't respond.
"Iori?"
He shook his head, his body beginning to tremble.
"What's going on?" Yamato glared over Iori's shoulder and down at the valley. He stretched out his hand, still meters away, and took another step.
Iori shook his head again and his throat released a near silent whimper.
"Just give me your hand…" he took another step towards the child. Both of their eyes grew large when another crack of earth filled their minds. Behind Iori, the ground that was supporting him began to fall towards the valley. Yamato lunged forward, grabbing for his hand but fell short as Iori was brought down with the burnt soil.
"Iori!" Yamato yelled, his hand still reaching down for him. The large, tear-filled green eyes screamed out 'Help!' but his voice was drowned out from fear. His hand reached out for Yamato's but as he fell down, Yamato grew distant. The green pools of the child stared in terror at the eyes of the older teenager.
The eyes of the child sent a memory through Yamato's mind. A plead. Takeru… And without thinking, he pushed himself off the broken edge of the cliff and dove through the darkness to find that child…
Eh, well… I was hoping for something more dramatic. It turned out okay I guess. I have to apologize, first off for being so short, and second for being so late. The first version I had of this was longer… but loosely written. Then the second version seemed too cheesy. I combined a few things from each rendition and add a few things and I came up with this. Short, I know, I hope it still seemed okay.
Why all the versions? …Somebody just told me that maybe I should take more time on my writing or stop writing altogether. And since I love writing, nothing can keep me away from stopping. …^-^… Yeah… that's it. So anyway… did it strike your interest? Still want to read? Think I did okay? Should I continue with these two or halt this story and jump onto the next? ^-^ Oh the possibilities.
So, from now on… I'll be taking time to make my stories better for you all to read. Mmkay? Mmkay. ^-^ Now, be a responsible reader and review like the little box thing says.