Notes: Yeah, another chapter. I've decided that I'm going to make an attempt to get one out every weekend. Of course, I'm not sure how long that'll stand but we'll see. Anyway, this one's kinda short and fairly depressing. I dunno, that seems to be my mood lately.
As for the whole couple thing, I'm not really sure who Yama's going to end up with. I used to know exactly who it was but then something happened. There are currently three people that I've got in mind and my preference seems to change daily. So I guess I'm just going to let Matt pick who he wants to be with. But one thing's for certain, Yama is the uke. Just haven't decided on the seme yet.
Anyway, enough of my jabbering. Enjoy, and let me know what you think (hint, hint).
* * * * *
"You're avoiding me."
"What? Taichi, it's seven a.m. on a Saturday. Call me back in five hours."
"I will do no such thing. You're avoiding me, and I want an explanation."
I sigh loudly into the phone. While I absolutely love hearing his voice, it's too early to listen to him interrogate me about something that I don't wish to discuss. "I'm not avoiding you. What makes you think that I am?"
"You haven't been in the cafeteria all week, and you don't sit by me in geometry anymore. Actually, you sit in the seat farthest away from me. I know you're avoiding me, don't even try to deny it!" His voice is steadily getting louder.
"Do we have to talk about this now?" I really don't want to explain that eating lunch in the bathroom and sitting next to the forever-blowing air conditioner are my two latest plots to get over Taichi.
"Yes." Great, he's not budging. Why do you have to be so stubborn?
I pause, not really sure what to say. "I'm not avoiding you." I wonder if he's sick of hearing me repeat that. I know that I'm sick of saying it.
There's a crackle on his end, and I can tell that it's him sighing into the phone. "Four hours."
"Excuse me?"
"Four hours. In four hours, I expect to find you standing at my door. Then we're going to sit down and have a nice, long talk."
I nod quickly before realizing that he couldn't see me. "All right, four hours."
"Good. I'll see you then." He hung up before I could respond.
With a groan, I lay back down on my bed and stare at the ceiling, silently rehearsing what I was going to tell Taichi. This is just like in drama, where they make you memorize your lines and then perform them. Yeah, that's what I'm doing. I'm memorizing my lines for a play. A play called life.
* * * * *
It's been about three hours and fifty minutes, and I'm standing face to face with his door. I've never really considered his door a menacing one, although at this moment I believe I've changed my opinion. It's the most intimidating thing I've ever seen in my life.
All I have to do is reach up and knock. That's all, one simple movement. But I can't do it. What the hell am I supposed to say to him? Well Tai, the reason I'm avoiding you is that I think I've fallen in love with you. Take me now! Yeah, that'd go over real well.
Of course, I could just lie. No, I couldn't do that. I can't lie to those eyes. It's beyond my power.
Dammit, Ishida, stop being a wimp. Just march on in there and tell that gorgeous freak that it's none of his business.
Suddenly feeling extremely powerful, I lift my hand and knock. After a long while, the door opens.
"Hey, Yama." He called me 'Yama.' My heart melts. It may mean nothing, but that won't stop me from swooning every time he says it.
"Hi, Taichi." I subconsciously reach up and smooth my hair down before following him into his apartment.
"So," he says, sitting on the couch, "talk."
I groan and sit on the other one. "What do you want me to say?"
"Well for starters you can tell me what I did to make you angry." Taichi leans back and stares at me intently. I suddenly feel like the suspect in a murder case.
"You didn't do anything." Doubt flickers in his eyes. "No, really. It wasn't anything that you did." Besides, of course, being you.
He cocks his head to one side. "Then what is it?"
"It…." Then I stop, having no clue what to say. The truth is obviously not an option, and I'm not going to feed him some meaningless lie. "I don't want to talk about it."
He stands up suddenly. "What can be so horrible that you can't even talk about?" He's started pacing slowly now.
"Taichi…" I start.
"Don't 'Taichi' me. Let me tell you something, Yamato. When we first met, I tried to be nice to you. I tried to be your friend. But you pushed me away, told me to screw myself. So I pushed back. But then we grew up and became best friends, the best of the best. We could trust each other with anything. And now something's wrong and you obviously can't trust me enough to tell me about it. You're pushing me away again." He's pacing violently now, and I'm sure that he's about to catch the carpet on fire. "I thought we were friends!"
By now I'm staring at Miko who's sitting quietly on the floor, gazing at us sleepily. "Maybe we're not friends anymore." The moment that it was out of my mouth, I began to pray that he didn't hear it.
Unfortunately, he must have. "Maybe we're not."
Silence fills the room. I can feel him glaring at me, but I refuse to look at him. If I do then I'll break. I can't let myself do that.
"Look," Taichi says coldly, "I've got a date with Sora for lunch. So you might want to leave."
Without so much as a nod, I get off the sofa and tread tiredly to the front door. Just as my hand touches the knob, I glance back at him. He's staring at the couch that I'd just gotten up from, an unreadable expression on his face. And with that, I open the door and walk out, attempting to ignore the dull ache in my heart.
* * * * *
My father has to choose today to come home early and find me lying idly in the middle of the floor, fighting off tears. I jump up as soon as the door opens.
"Get off the floor. All you ever do is mope around this house, getting all emotional like a stupid woman. That's what you are, a woman."
"Oh fuck off," I snap back at him, with just as much venom, and begin to head towards my room.
But he reaches after me, grabs my left wrist, and pulls me back to face him again. "Now, you listen here. I work the whole damned day so that there's enough money for you to live in this house. I do not need your smart-ass little comments." His grip on my wrist tightens sharply and I let out a gasp. "I should just throw you out into the streets. Then maybe you'd appreciate what I do for you." His grip continues to tighten, causing me to cry out in pain. Finally, just as I'm sure he's going to break it, he lets go and strolls out to the kitchen as if nothing ever happened.
Cradling my throbbing wrist, I make my way back into my bedroom. I'm going to have a heck of a bruise.
Despite the early time I crawl into my bed, completely exhausted. Glancing at my wrist, I notice that it's already beginning to turn black. Hmm, how fitting, I think dryly as I drift off into sleep. Black…
Just like the small black flowers that grow in the sky.