*bursts into tears*
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Shi-chan: *heaves a sigh* Too little sugar and too many Krillin death scenes leave Shi-chan very depressed...
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Silence
By Shimegami-chan
AUTHOR'S NOTE: AU, Taito. Rated for angst and death. Not part of a series, but part of a set. You can read the others if you desire, and they can be read in any order at all. See the links below. ^_^
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Now-customary shameless plugs.
'In Your Shoes,' Kenyako, chapter 5 updated on June 11.
'Sadness-Colored Sandglass,' Kensuke, chapter 12 updated on May 26.
Thanks minna-san! On with the fic!
I was the friend of Friendship.
Or so he always told me.
I am a free spirit, damned by my responsibilities.
I am a bird trapped in a cage.
I am broken beneath other people's needs.
I never lived for myself, not that I can remember. I lived for my parents, for my friends, for Hikari, for Agumon and the world I was supposed to save. I never minded. But the only person who I ever really wanted to live for was the one person who couldn't live himself.
I have to trudge forward because that's what's expected of me. They say, "He wouldn't have wanted you to be sad," or "What a shame, he just had too many problems," or "I'm so glad you're still with us, Taichi."
Two brothers.
Two lives.
Two deaths.
Snuffed out like candles at their brightest hour.
Yamato didn't want to go this way, I know. To die honorably, sacrificing himself, maybe. But to die alone in his own house, blood pooling around his body, perhaps regretting death, perhaps welcoming it? Yama-chan was a fighter to the core. He wouldn't have wanted it this way, before Takeru left.
He never thought he'd have his younger brother die in his arms.
I was both crushed and glad that I was the one to find him. I had a key to the apartment still, Takeru's keys. There were five in total. One for the front door of the Ishida apartment. One for the Takaishi apartment. One for Yamato's car--the elder Ishida had been teaching his brother to drive. One the looked like it could have been for a bike lock, or maybe his locker at school. And one tiny key that I could never find the origin of. I thought Hikari might know, but I dared not ask.
The apartment was dark.
It shouldn't have been; unless Yamato was at Jyou or Koushirou's house. Both parents were visiting relatives, something that Taichi knew Yamato wouldn't want to take part in. All the condolences, all the pain. He couldn't stand to see his mother cry. Even worse, sometimes his father did too.
I had never seen Yamato cry.
So it was me who stepped into the musty apartment, turned on the lights, and left food for Patamon, who slept soundly on the couch. Gabumon sat as still as stone nearby, as though guarding the smaller digimon, but his breathing was deep and even and his eyes closed. I smiled and sighed, backing away so as not to wake the grief-stricken digimon up.
I went into Yamato's room, stopping in the doorway, afraid to turn on the light. Ice flared in my stomach, a sure sign that something was wrong, that something was going to happen that I wouldn't want to see. A sweet smell was in the air. The scent of a mixture of things, soft perfume, harsh cologne, and the metallic tang of blood.
I couldn't turn on the light.
The moonlight snuck in through the closed curtains, illuminating a shape on the floor. I didn't want to look. I already knew.
He was curled up as though sleeping, eyes closed, face serene. A white square of paper was folded up in his hand, fingers relaxed just enough so that I could pull it out. When I did, I slipped my hand into his, the limp fingers pale and sickly-looking. Still warm.
I knelt in the pool of red in the moonlight, refusing to cry, willing him to open his eyes and laugh, say that it was all a joke. I held a finger to his neck. No pulse. No rising and falling of his chest. Nothing.
How long had he been lying here, dying alone? He was white as a ghost, drained of life and moonlight illuinating his pale features. I couldn't look away.
"You shouldn't have died alone," I said tenderly, placing a hand on his cheek. Hesitating, I bent and kissed him gently, breathing in his scent and dripping tears on lips that still clung to warmth. "Not alone," I repeated.
Somehow, I'd imagined that I might bring him back to life, like a fairy tale. He remained still.
"Oh God, Yamato..."
I called the paramedics, never taking my eyes off the smooth curves of his face, his ghost of a smile. Then I read the note in his hand, out loud.
"I'll be with Takeru. Tousan, Kaasan, minna...I love you all. Taichi...please don't cry for me. Forever with you, Ishida Yamato."
"I love you." I whispered hoarsely, clinging to his hand. "Yamato..."
I would not cry.
"I love you..."
The silence was deafening in my ears.
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Shi-chan: That is enough for tonight. I will not be depressed. I will not be depressed. I will not...