Notes: I'm going to apologize in advance for this chapter. It is supremely evil, in more ways that one. It starts out cute and cheerful, but ends up angsty and depressing. I was originally going to make this two small chapters but decided to combine it and make one big one.
Also, I would like to mention that the song "Archives of Pain", which this chapter is named after, is in my opinion one of the greatest songs of all time. I actually sat for twenty minutes with the lyrics, trying to find a way to incorporate them into this story. And I succeeded too –audience groans-. Oh hush. They're all in italics, once between the ***s (actually those aren't really lyrics, but they are used in the song) and once at the end.
Anyway…enjoy.
* * * * *
"He did WHAT?!"
I groan and push my hair out of my face. "He kissed me."
A sound that resembles a fangirl squeal comes loudly through the phone.
"Takeru, I sincerely hope that I did not just hear what I thought I heard slip out of your mouth. In fact I am going to pretend I never heard it at all."
"I'm sorry, Yamato. It's just that it's so cute, you and Daisuke." More giggling. My brother is obviously half-female. "I knew it, I knew it, I knew it."
One of my eyebrows raises up in confusion. "Excuse me? What do you mean 'I knew it'?"
My question only induces more giggling. Obviously there was a joke that I was not in on.
"Are you quite finished?" I ask once he seems to have calmed down.
"I'm not entirely sure. We'll see." I can almost see him wiping the tears out of his eyes. "Hikari and I had a bet going on how long it would take you two to get together. She said that it would take a while, maybe a year or so, for you to get over Taichi. But I said that it would be sooner. After all, how long does it take to get over that mass of brainless fuzz?"
I can do nothing but gape at the phone in my hand. "Did I miss something here? What makes you think we would ever start dating? Wasn't Dai totally in love with Hikari? What about Tai?"
"Kindly do not use that name in my presence or I'll be forced to wash your mouth out with soap. But seriously, it was so clear. You two are all over each other."
My mouth drops open. "All over each other? You'll have to excuse me, but I have no memory of being 'all over' him."
Takeru pauses to ponder my words for a second. "Hmm, I suppose you aren't all over each other. But it is painfully clear that there is something between you guys."
"Like what?"
He snickers. "Two words: Blue Eyes."
"So what? It's just a nickname. I have lots of them for you. And Tai called me 'Yama' and we all know where that lead."
A loud groan rings in my ears. "Yes, but I read once that when you really like someone you start to notice the little things about their appearance, like the color of their eyes. He obviously noticed that your eyes are blue."
I shake my head. "I still say it doesn't mean anything."
"Fine. How about this? He stopped flirting with Kari after that one soccer game where he got your autograph. Speaking of which, he never gave it to Jun. Ken said that it's hanging in his room by his bed. Right next to a list of every single one of your scheduled concerts. Shall I go on?"
I open my mouth to give a response, but Takeru continues on without waiting for one.
"He told Taichi to go to hell the day after I told him that Tai was a useless, self-absorbed jerk. Somehow I don't think that's a coincidence."
"Probably not," I agree.
"He asks about you everyday. I swear every time I see him, it's 'How's your brother?' or 'Hey Takeru, is Yamato all right?' And that's another thing. He calls me Takeru now."
I furrow my brows. "I don't get it."
"Daisuke has never called me by my real name. He's never even called me TK. It's always TC or TM or TP. But now he calls me Takeru."
I groan and sit down in the kitchen chair. Why am I always two steps behind everyone else?
"So then I was over at Hikari's the other day, and out of the blue she said, 'Is there something going on between Yamato and Daisuke?' And we got to talking and then we came up with our bet. And thank you, by the way, for helping me win that."
I roll my eyes. "Hold your horses, squirt. You haven't won. Dai and I aren't together."
There's a pause. "And why the hell not?"
"I don't know. We're just not together yet."
"Aha!" he shrieks suddenly, causing me to jump. "You're not together yet. Yet, meaning you will be soon."
I put my head in my hands. "That's not what I said."
"Yes it is. You said, 'We're just not together yet.' You said yet."
"Well that's not what I meant. We aren't going to be getting together."
"So I repeat, why the hell not?!"
I lean back. "Two words: child molestation. He's way too young for me."
"Yeah, three years younger than you. Ooh, call the police. This is immoral." His voice oozes with sarcasm. "I'm the same age as Daisuke."
"Yeah, and you don't see me screwing you, do you?"
"Yamato, you do not have to have sex to be in love. Some people wait until they're married, and they're perfectly happy. Besides, if he wants it then technically it's not molestation is it?" I can practically see his grin.
"Molest is defined as unwanted or improper sexual activity."
His grin just widened. I know it did. "So you've looked it up, huh? Been considering it, have you?"
My forehead bangs against the table. "I am not having this conversation with you."
"Fine. I don't really want to hear about your sex life anyway. But what are you going to do about Daisuke?"
"Nothing, I guess."
There's another long pause. "Nothing? As in ignore it?"
"Well…" I start. But Takeru interrupts me.
"Nothing as in walk away? You're going to walk away, just like Taichi did to you? Do you have any idea how much that will hurt him? I mean, Tai is straight. You have no conceivable chance with him. And yet it tore you apart. But you are gay. Do you even know how much that will kill him? To know that you like guys, that he has a chance, but that you just don't want him. Could you do that to him? Put him through what you went through?"
"No, I wouldn't but…" I falter, suddenly realizing that there is no 'but'.
My brother sighs, causing static to come through on my end. "You like him, Yamato. You like him a lot. That much is obvious. I heard that wistful tone you had when you told me that he kissed you. Don't think I didn't. And don't even try to deny that you felt something when he did."
"I'm not going to," I admit as I fiddle with my shirtsleeve. "So is that your advice? Ask him out?"
There's silence for a bit before he finally answers. "No. My advice is to talk to him about it. I mean, at least consider it. I know that…disgusting hair ball still occupies most of your heart…"
"Not as much as you might think."
"See, you're getting over him." Another smile, but then it quickly fades. "You claim to have been in love with him. I don't doubt that. I just don't think it's the type of love you were making it out to be. When you're in love with someone, it's not supposed to hurt. At least not like that, Yamato. You cried so many tears because of that thing. And it's not supposed to feel like that. Love is warm and fuzzy and happy. Whether or not you admit it, you're happier around Daisuke than you are Taichi."
"And what exactly makes you think that you know that?"
"I'm your brother. I may be younger that you, but I am your brother. It's my job to know when you're happy."
It's my job to know when you're happy. I squint my eyes in suspicion. That sounds so familiar. "Wait a second. I told you that during the divorce. You're using my lines, squirt."
He laughs thoughtfully. "What can I say? You've said some pretty memorable lines in your time. And you're a hell of a brother. You've given me advice more times than I can count. Now I'm returning the favor."
"Thanks," I say, my voice cracking. Here I go getting all emotional again.
"Anytime, bro, anytime."
* * * * *
I had another dream last night. It was the same as the last one, Taichi and me at the lake. Except this time he didn't call me 'Blue Eyes'; he said 'Yama'. And this time I didn't pull away from him.
No, he pulled away from me and claimed, "I can't do this. I'm sorry but I can't, not like this." And then I woke up.
I had to talk to Tai. That seemed to be the only logical thing to at the time. I had no idea what I was going to say to him, but I had to talk to him. I had to tell him what I was thinking.
So I called him a few hours ago. Or I should say that I interrupted him and Sora, whatever they were doing. Normally I would have backed down and told him it wasn't important, to continue making out with Sora, but not today. I wanted to talk to him, and I was going to talk to him if it was the last thing I did.
"Is it really that important?" Taichi had asked. In the background, I'd heard a feminine groan of annoyance.
"Yes, it's important. If it wasn't, I wouldn't have called."
"I'm busy right now."
"Yeah, so I hear." I couldn't stop the bitterness that seeped into my voice. "So you're choosing her over me?"
"No, of course not. I just…" he trailed off, and I could almost imagine him pushing himself away from Sora. "What did you want to talk about?" Another groan.
"You, me, us. What I told you…"
"No, I don't think so. We've already talked about that, and it was hard enough the first time. I don't want to do it again."
I narrowed my eyes, sensing the fight that was ahead. "No Tai, we didn't talk about it. You talked about it. I just listened to you talk about how you felt and responded to what you said. And I thought that I could live with that, but I can't. I need you to hear what I feel. I need to tell you what I feel."
Taichi sighed, obviously exasperated. "And I'm sorry, but I don't want to hear it."
I growled then. "That is just too bad, isn't it? Because you're going to whether you want to or not."
There was a click.
"Tai?" No answer. "Taichi?" Absolutely nothing. "Yagami Taichi, if you are there say something." Not a word of response.
He'd hung up on me. I couldn't believe it. I still can't believe it.
I chucked the phone across my room. It bounced off the wall and onto my bed. Surprisingly enough it didn't break. And I'd slid down the wall until I was slumped over on the floor.
It's two hours later, and I still haven't moved. I may never move again. I think I feel worse right now than I've ever felt before in my life.
And I hate him for making me feel like this. Hate, a word I never thought I would associate with him. But I do.
I hate you, Tai, I really hate you.
* * * * *
I wonder who you think you are. You damn well think you're God or something. God give life. God taketh it away, not you. I think you are the devil itself.
* * * * *
I took the bandage off for the first time today. Until that point I'd never seen exactly what I'd done to myself. I honestly didn't care to. But now that I have, I can't take my eyes off of it.
There are stitches. That's what caused me to take them off in the first place. A doctor called and started talking about me coming in so they can be checked on.
I didn't know that I got stitches, although I'm not entirely certain how I could have not known. Shouldn't I have felt them? On some level, I must have. Someone probably told me once, and I was just too out of it to process that bit of information.
The skin surrounding the cut is bruised, ironically. It's a strange bruise though, a deep purple instead of gray. It almost appears like my wrist is still bleeding, like it never stopped. In some ways I suppose it didn't.
It's grotesque. The skin that was once completely flawless is now marred with a self-inflicted scar that will never fade; at least in my mind it won't.
And yet in some inexplicable way, it's beautiful. Completely beautiful.
My dad's going to be home soon. He said that he'd be home early. And I'm nearly positive that I'll be dead before the night is over. Don't ask me why I think that. I couldn't explain it if I wanted to.
I contemplated calling Daisuke and asking him if I could stay with him for a day or so, but then I reconsidered. I'm going to have to face my father sometime, and it might as well be tonight. There's no use in putting it off.
I haven't seen him since that wonderful night when Dai was over. His work is keeping him busy, or so I assume.
A piece of blond hair falls into my eyes. With a sigh I push it away with my right hand, catching a glimpse of my injured wrist as I do. Once again, I find myself staring at it.
I should put another bandage on it. Maybe then I won't be compelled to look at it. I swear this is turning into an addiction. What am I going to do if it heals? Then what will I spend hours on end doing?
A door opens, causing me to abandon gazing at my arm.
Let the games begin.
"Yamato." Dark eyes glare at me from the doorway. "I would like to speak with you."
Speak with me? Well that's new. He's never wanted to speak with me before. "Look, Dad, if this is about me being late the other night then I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
"Well that's nice to know." He's too calm. He should be yelling by now or at least getting close to it. He didn't even interrupt me. "But that's not what I want to discuss."
"It's not?" Then what is it?
"No, I wanted to talk about your new friend…Daisuke I believe his name is."
My dad is asking about Dai. Why do I not like this? "What about him?" I have a bad feeling about this.
A grin spreads across his face as he moves to stand directly in front of me. "Well, a funny thing happened the other day. I came home from a long, hard day at work to spend some quality time with my son. But if you remember, I walked in the door to catch a glimpse of you and him in a very…interesting position. Of course, you moved out of that position so quickly I'm almost not sure that I saw it."
Crap, he did see it. I start to back up, realizing exactly what's coming. "Interesting position?"
"Yeah." He takes a step closer. "Kinda looked like I interrupted something. My son doesn't happen to be one of them, does he?"
"One of them?" I squeak as I back into the wall. Great, now I have nowhere else to go.
"Mm hm. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. A homo, a fairy, a queer, a faggot, a pansy. Shall I go on, Yamato?" He pauses briefly but doesn't let me respond. "So tell me, are you one of them? And don't lie to me."
Don't lie to me. Fine, I won't. Ishida Yamato, untouched and alive. "Yes. Yes, I am. I'm gay."
Nothing happens. Our eyes meet and his burn dangerously into mine. I suck in my breath and await the blow. But nothing comes.
"No you're not," he says finally.
I stare at him in shock. "I'm not? And how the hell do you know what I am and what I'm not?"
My father's expression hardens even more. "You're my son. You're not one of them."
"Would you stop saying that? 'One of them'. I'm gay, and nothing you can say will change that." Somehow the idea of my dad trying to tell me that I'm straight just because I'm his son angers the heck out of me.
In a swift movement his hand is around my neck, a position that I'm beginning to get used to. "No, you're not."
"Yes, I am." Honestly…who does he think he is telling me that I'm not? I'm quite well aware of my attraction to guys.
His grip tightens. "No. You're. Not."
I grit my teeth. "Yes. I. Am."
"No. You're. Not."
Obviously having enough of me, my dad shoves me full-force to my right, causing my arm to smash into the television set. The glass shatters on contact. An excruciating pain shoots through my arm and I hastily jerk it out of the electronic device just as sparks begin to fly.
Various swears flow out of my father's mouth as he inches closer to inspect the TV, pushing me carelessly out of the way in the process.
Tears start to well up in my eyes as I quietly stagger to my room, cradling my now bloody limb. As the door closes, I immediately collapse into sobs. My arm begins to pulsate. There's glass stuck in it. I'm sure of that.
I look down to examine it. Sure enough, I can see the glass. With my left hand, I attempt to dislodge one of the larger pieces. The pain flares once again. I let out a cry and push my arm closer to me, only succeeding in sliding the glass further into my skin. I moan in agony and lean my head against the door.
I continue to weep before idly noticing that there's a wetness on my stomach. Oh God…my arm's bleeding through my shirt. That's too much blood. My wrist didn't even bleed this much. I need to do something. I need to call someone.
I push myself weakly off of the floor, stumble towards the bed, and grab the cordless phone that's laying on it. I stare at it blankly for a minute. Who the hell am I supposed to call?
I can't call Takeru; he can't see me like this. I hate Taichi right now, so he's out of the question. And I'm not close enough to anyone else, except…
A light bulb goes off in my head, and I scan the room quickly, looking for the piece of paper Takeru gave me yesterday. Spotting it next to my guitar case, I wobble tiredly over to it.
I hold up my phone and dial, deciding to ignore the fact that the once white telephone was now completely red. I fall back down to the floor and wait for someone to pick up.
"Motomiya residence."
"Is Daisuke there?" I make my best attempt to sound normal but fail miserably.
There's a yawn on the other end. "Speaking."
"Dai? It's Yamato." Fresh tears fall down my face as another wave of pain flows through my arm.
"What?" Well if he wasn't awake before, he is now. "Blue Eyes? Are you okay? You sound like you're…crying? Oh God, what happened?"
"Dad came home…I told him th…and my arm…and the TV." Another wail expels from my throat. "There's blood, so much blood. And it hurts, Dai, it hurts." I'm blubbering. I'm blubbering pathetically, and I don't care.
"You're bleeding?" he whispers.
"My arm hurts so bad. My dad…" I trail off, hoping that he'll get the idea.
"Oh shit. Your dad…oh shit. Okay. Okay, I'm going to get my mom and we're going to go get you and take you to the hospital, okay?" His voice cracks. "Everything will be okay, okay?"
"Stop saying 'okay'," I whimper pitifully.
"Okay."
I smile despite my anguish. "Please hurry."
"I'll be there as soon as I can, Blue Eyes. And everything is going to be all right. Just hang on. I'll be there in a little bit." Click.
"Okay, Dai," I mumble as I hang up. "I'll hold on. It's not like I've got anything better to do."
I glance down at the limb pressed against my stomach. It's completely covered in blood now. There's absolutely no skin that isn't red. I can't even see my stitches anymore. My stitches…
Well so much for those. I guess I was just meant to have glass stuck in my arm for the rest of my life. Either that or someone just really doesn't want me to wear short sleeves ever again.
Man, I wish Daisuke would hurry up. I'm losing feeling in my arm.
I wonder what my dad's thinking right now. Probably about the television, not about me. Does he regret it? Of course not, why should he? He never regretted anything before, why start now?
And what about Takeru? What's he doing right now? In fact, what are any of the Chosen doing at this moment? Hopefully they're having more fun that I am right now, well, except for Taichi and Sora. They can both burn in hell for all I care.
I must look disgusting right now, all covered in blood. And my hair's probably a mess. Just my luck, I'll die with my hair looking horrible.
No, don't be silly. I won't die. Daisuke's gonna be here soon. I'm not gonna die. Besides, even if I do my hair can't look bad. It's a physical impossibility. Tai told me that once. Tai…may you burn in hell. Why does it seem like I've said that before?
And why am I so tired? Oh, I remember this. I felt like this before I went unconscious the last time I was bleeding to death. So it should only be a matter of minutes now before I lose consciousness.
Isn't that sad? That I'm actually thinking about when I'll lose consciousness? When did my life turn out like this? I used to be able to handle it, my dad, being gay, Taichi, myself. When did it get out of hand?
Why me? Couldn't it have been someone else? Couldn't it have been Tai or Sora or that damn smiling nurse? Why did it have to be me?
Things are blurring now, and I can't feel my arm anymore. Hey, now that I think about it I can't feel most of my body anymore. And I've stopped crying. That's good. I always hated crying.
This is it. Hurry up, Dai. Everything's going black.
And as I close my eyes, a pair of strong arms raps around me.
* * * * *
The center of humanity is cruelty.
* * * * *