Fly Away From Here
Chapter 6
Yamato had always imagined that he
would tell his father about being gay when he was older and had moved out
of the apartment. He imagined that he would sit Masaharu down and calmly
explain that the older man would have to turn his hopes to Takeru if he
wanted any grandchildren. It wasn't that Yamato was afraid of telling
his father, per se, it was just that he didn't think his prospects for
being accepted by the man were very good. By 'not very good' he believed
to be less than one in a million.
"Yagami," Masaharu said after a few
moments of expressionless scrutiny of the scene before him, "if I'm not
mistaken, this is still a school night. I think you'd better go home to
your parents." Taichi was visibly pale, but he gave Yamato one last squeeze
on the shoulders and a hopeful half-smile before quickly slipping past
the elder Ishida and out of the apartment entirely. Yamato winced when
he heard the front door close, because it seemed to be the signal his father
was waiting for. Slowly, deliberately, Masaharu took a cigarette out of
the pack in his front shirt pocket and lit it with a lighter. He took a
long drag and exhaled noisily.
"Well," he said. Yamato looked down
at his lap, his arms behind him, supporting his half-sitting position on
the edge of the bed. He waited for his father to go on, but the man only
stood in the doorway smoking for a long, tense minute. "I didn't raise
you to be like this."
Yama's head snapped up as if he'd
been struck. "What?" he croaked, shocked. Does he think that being gay
is some sort of choice?
Masaharu took another drag on his
cigarette. "I didn't raise you to be staying out late on school nights,
or to be drinking so young - I saw the beer cans on the couch, before you
ask how I knew. I also didn't raise you to start your college experimentations
in high school, not while you still live under my roof," he continued dispassionately,
his fatigued eyes strangely sad.
Normally Yamato would have either
kept quiet or snapped a sarcastic remark. The alcohol in his blood had
not completely left him, though, and it made him bolder than usual. "Who
says you've even raised me at all?" he asked coldly, narrowing his eyes
at his father. "Don't keep deluding yourself that you've had any influence
at all in my life. Don't dream that you're still going to win the Father
of the Year Award. Don't stand there looking smug and superior and tell
me that what you just saw is 'just an experimentation'! Dammit, you're
never here! You don't know me, or who I am! You have no idea what
I am, none at all!" Yamato felt fresh tears stinging the corners of his
icy eyes, and he wiped them away angrily.
Masaharu continued to smoke his cigarette
in the doorway of his son's room. He was silent for a minute, then he turned
as if to go. Stopping halfway, he said over his shoulder, "You're gay,
son. I know that. I've known for longer than even you have, perhaps. Just
because I work long hours doesn't mean I don't know my own child. I'm sorry
if I haven't done the best job raising you." He paused, looking down at
the hand clenching his tobacco stick. "I do know a thing or two about trying
to figure out you are, though, if you ever want to ask." With that calm
speech, he walked away, shutting the door behind him.
Yamato sat on his bed for a long
time afterward, trying to make sense of his father, of Tai, and, most importantly,
of his life.
"Hey, Jaded,
you got your mama's style,
but you're yesterday's child
to me.
So, Jaded,
you think that's where it's at,
but is that where it's 'sposed
to be?
You're getting it all over .
. ."
The music floating in the breeze
slipped away from Yamato's ears as he walked to school the next day. It
was Friday, thankfully. If he survived it, the weekend would come and he
could escape for a little while and find a way to forget his troubles.
Instead of taking a bus to school,
he was walking. The air was chilly, but not so cold as it had been during
the last few days. Yamato could still see his breath in front of his face,
and he kept his hands buried in his pants pockets. He carried only his
bookbag, not his guitar. He wouldn't need it until Monday, because he had
told the guys in his band to take a few days off to practice independently.
As soon as Yamato reached Odiaba
High School, he put his defenses up full force. I have to watch out
for Taichi. I still don't know what to make of last night. Did he mean
it? Does he really like me back? His heart beat faster whenever he
remembered the feel of the other boy's lips pressed against his. He absently
reached up and rubbed his bottom lip, wishing Masaharu hadn't come home
at the wrong time.
The halls were busy, but not as full
as they would be once the school day officially started. Yamato slipped
between his classmates, all of them laughing and chattering like monkeys
in a banana tree, as they traded secrets and homework assignments. He felt
disconnected, alone. He wasn't a part of the crowd, for several reasons.
Most obvious to him was his sexual preferance, but as far as he knew, only
Taichi was in on that little secret. Beside that, Yama was in a successful
local rock band, a dream that very few people every attained. Finally,
he was part of the Japanese team of Digidestined, and had saved two worlds
from destruction over four years ago.
When Yamato reached his locker, he
turned the combination as usual. The handle refused to pull up, though,
which was odd. It's never gotten stuck before. Maybe I should just pull
harder.
With effort, the gangly blond teenager
yanked his locker open. The door banged into the locker next to it loudly.
Yama's heart pounded in his head as the kids around him laughed. He forced
himself to smirk, nodding at the ones nearest him.
"Guess I'm tougher than I look,"
he remarked, knowing that his embarrassment would be lessened if he looked
like he could laugh at himself. The high schoolers quickly dismissed the
incident, resuming their annoying yapping at each other. Yamato stepped
up his locker and unloaded two books from his bag, then took out a different
one, for his first class of the day.
Because of his locker, he'd forgotten
that he was supposed to be watching for Tai, so that he could avoid dealing
with the too-skilled kisser for a while. Thus it was no surprise that Yamato
jumped and stifled a yelp when he felt a warm breath against his ear, a
hot body leaning against his, and a possessive arm around his shoulders.
"Hi there," a sultry voice tickled
his right ear. Yamato turned, hoping it was one of the girls who had a
crush on him because he was in a band. It was not his lucky day; Taichi's
grinning face was only a few inches from his own.
"Hi, Tai," he whispered, looking
down at the bookbag in his hands, his back to the kids milling about in
the hallway.
"What'd your dad say to you last
night?" the brunnet asked in a low voice, his arm still around Yama, his
body still so close. Every touch seemed to set Yamato's nerves on fire.
The blond shrugged and Tai took the
opportunity to entwine a few golden strands between his fingers. "Not much."
I hope he can't tell that I'm lying out my ass, Yama thought desperately.
He could feel intense chocolate eyes starting at his face, and it added
fire to his anxiety, as well as to his desire for the other boy.
"Well, I was thinking," Taichi said
slowly, glancing at the kids around them, a spectulative glint in his eyes,
"That if you wanted to come over my house after school today, we could
finish what we started."
Yamato's heart bottomed out. His
pulse was racing fast and furious and his throat felt dry.
Tai was looking at him again, the
fire burning behind his brown orbs hotter than any inferno. Yamato swallowed
and looked down again.
He nodded.
Taichi broke into an ear-splitting
grin. "Great!" he exclaimed, slapping the taller boy on the back. Yamato
staggered forward under the blow as Tai sauntered off down the hallway,
calling out to one of the players on his soccer team.
The boy of Friendship wandered off
to his first class dazed, feeling as if his world had been turned upside
down.
