Learn to Fly

Learn to Fly

three - how it feels to be free

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Couldn't see how much I missed you
couldn't see how much it meant
now I see my world come tumbling down
now I see the road is bent

If I only once could hold you
and remember how it used to be
If only I could scold you
and forget how it feels to be free

: -: -: -: -: -:

The air was a surrounding, dampening mist. Kojiro was playing near his mother's feet at first, with a small soccer ball that he was attempting to kick around. Sora smiled down at her son, mostly because of her son's interest in sports when she had herself lost interest oh so long ago. She found herself humming an old tune, the words forming in her mind.

'You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy, when skies are grey. You'll never know dear, how much I love you, so please don't take my sunshine away…'

She cringed a moment, realizing that this song was one that her mother would often sing to her when she was of that age. She had found herself singing it to Kojiro a few times in her off-key voice. Shaking her head she returned her gaze to him. Yet the words weren't true. She couldn't love this boy as if he were she own. He was more Jyou's son than her own flesh and blood.

"Don't go too far, Kojiro." She said to him, finding a reason to smile if only for a second as he finally managed to kick the ball a few feet away and toddled after it, tripping over his shoelace. But he didn't cry, but smiled back, fiddling with the laces and tucking them into his shoe.

A familiar stranger walked by and picked up the ball.

"This yours?" He asked Kojiro, who smiled. Recognition seemed to settle in the young man's face as he raised his head to look at Sora. "Is that your mom over there?" He asked the boy, who nodded.

"Yep." The man handed the ball back to him and walked over to where Sora was sitting.

"Sora?" He asked. She looked up from her book with a look of surprise.

"Izzy! Wow, it's been ages." She said, recalling the last time she had seen Koushiro, pale faced in a hospital bed. 'Well, well, if it isn't the miracle patient.'

The halls were grey and white, depressing colors to her. But she knew that she would be here a lot, visiting her spouse-to-be. She figured that she would go in and check on the boy, Koushiro. It would give her another reason to be there.

She saw him. He was so pale. 'You didn't deserve this, Koushiro,' She thought, and patted his hand. 'But as things go, you need to stay asleep until everything is over.'

No, there had been that other time at Hikari's funeral. He was there, she saw him, but didn't want to catch his gaze, knowing her small part in all that had happened to him. And yet she still felt sorry for him in some strange way.

"Sora?" He asked tentatively once again, a little startled by her response. He did see her at the funeral, her radiant red hair covered with a black scarf, clinging pathetically to her husband's arm. She seemed pretty weak then, and he wanted to talk to Jyou, and had a small conversation with him before leaving and he hadn't seen the family since. He had been able to walk away unscathed without leaving anything behind, except closure, and the knowledge that his life was his and his alone. Perhaps he had liked Kari in some way…but it was too late for her now. Too late. And yet she had been pretty and intelligent.

"Sorry, I just drifted off for a minute. Care to sit down?"

He seemed uncomfortable, but sat down near her anyway. "So. How's life?"

"Life's just dandy," Sora slid the book into her bag. "I haven't seen you in ages," she said, repeating herself. "What have you been up to?"

"Getting myself back on track," He said, patting a briefcase next to him. "Never leave home without it."

A small chuckle escaped Sora's lips, though the words didn't seem to ring true. She was a master at disguising herself. "Good for you, I'm glad to hear it."

"Your son, I guessed?" Koushiro asked, as they both glanced out to the boy who was still where he was, staring curiously at the ball.

"Yep. That's my Kojiro." She half-sighed; pushing strands of copper colored hair away from her eyes.

"You must love him very much."

"Of course I do." She replied semi-indignantly, but he didn't seem to notice and she relaxed.

"How's Jyou?"

"He's just fine, and proud of his son," As she said these words she looked down into her lap, twisting her hands awkwardly. 'This feels so strange, but it shouldn't. Maybe it's because I haven't seen Koushiro in years. Maybe it's because saying the words "Jyou" and "son" together make me want to cry. Tai, I wish that you could be proud of your son. Sometimes I wonder if you really wanted it to be this way.' "So how have you been doing, Izzy?"

"I've been okay, I guess. Trying to put my life together but not feeling quite 'together', though I've never really needed much except my wits and laptop."

Sora laughed, a hollow sounding-one. "Knowing you, that doesn't seem too off the mark."

"You feeling okay, Sora?" Koushiro asked, concerned. Maybe it was because of his new appreciation of life that he was able to feel comfortable while talking to her.

"Yeah," she looked up at him and plastered on one of those fake smiles she made trademark, though at the moment it didn't seem too realistic. She turned her head forward and gave a little half-gasp. "Kojiro?"

"Huh?" Koushiro turned his head swiftly. The child had just been there less than a minute ago…maybe it was because children were easily distracted. Sora had leapt to her feet, crying out, "Kojiro!"

Nothing.

"We'll find him, Sora," Koushiro said, who had leapt to his feet as well, his eagle-eyes darting around quickly. "You know kids at his age like to explore. He couldn't have gone too far."

: -: -: -: -: -:

The ball rolled to the feet of a man whom the little boy had seen a few times, if only in brief glimpses. The boy wondered if he had even seen him in his dreams at one point. The man smiled upon seeing the ball, though Kojiro hung back a few steps, watching him pick up and examine it.

"I know you're there," The man spoke, his eyes passing quickly over the face of the boy, who found his voice to be a tired, once-commanding voice. His hair a dark ravenous chocolate, his eyes dancing coals tinged by fire. "Don't be afraid, I wouldn't hurt you."

Kojiro took a few shuffling steps forward and stared up into his face; the man smiled.

"You look so much like her," he ruffled a largish hand through the small mass of hair, though his eyes seemed to pause as a flash of hatred seemed to flash through them, then replaced with a sort of self-satisfied glance. "So much like me…"

He stopped ruffling the boys hair. "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

"Uh-uh," The boy said, shaking his head. "But I should know you…right? I've seen you before."

"I know you have. I've been watching after you for quite a while. I can't stay for too long now, now is not the time for us to talk, and fully understand each other. Just do me one favor, Kojiro. Don't tell your Mommy that you've seen me," he gave him back the ball. "Some day, you'll become a fantastic soccer player. It's in your genes, son. You're a Kamiya. Maybe you can't understand me now, but you will, someday."

"Kamiya," the boy struggled with the pronunciation. "Is that a club?"

The man laughed, once again tousling the child's hair. "Yes. A special kind of club. You and I are the only ones left, now, to preserve it. But I'll tell you later. About your right to destiny. But I must go now."

And as the boy watched with widening eyes the figure slowly stepped back into the trees, his eyes glinting one last time before he turned, ultimately obscured by the shadows. Yet the child stood there, holding the ball, wondering to what extent he could what it all had meant, wanting to find out more about the mysterious stranger. Yet he was too young to understand fully.

'You're a Kamiya…' the phrase wouldn't let his three year old mind alone. A secret club that he belonged to… it would be fun. And he knew that he mustn't tell his Mom, because she wasn't a Kamiya… she did not belong… 'But what about Daddy?' he should tell daddy, but this seemed something that was too important, a secret that he had to keep to himself, even from the ones he loved…

"Sora! I found him!" he heard a male voice call, the one that belonged to the person that his mom had met in the park before he wandered off.

"Kojiro!" and suddenly his mother was there, tears streaming down her face as she wrapped her arms around him and he was pulled into her grasp. "What were you doing all the way over here?"

"Playing." His words were muffled against her chest and finally she let him breathe.

"I told you to stay near me, honey." The last word added as an afterthought.

"Sorry." He looked down and began digging in the dirt with the left big toe of his sneaker. Sora turned to Koushiro, relief flooding her.

"Thanks for finding him."

"You're welcome." Koushiro shrugged, and they walked back towards the bench.

"I fee like such a bad mother," Sora admitted to him.

"You aren't. I sense that you love him, very much, and if you still have the same instincts that you did ten years ago you'll be fine." Koushiro smiled this time.

'Or maybe I won't, Koushiro, just maybe I won't.'

: -: -: -: -: -:

'She couldn't have gone that far.' The blonde paused in his running a moment to catch his breath. What was he doing, chasing after Miyako like that? She couldn't talk to him, besides.

'I begged her to say something and she didn't.' he thought, then he stopped to look at his surroundings. He was at the park. The park. He closed his eyes for a moment. The essence of the sweet innocence of youth. It was too late for innocence now.

"Hey! Takeru?" A voice called out to him, and he raised his head in surprise, recognizing the voice.

"Izzy? Is that you?" he spotted the man waving him over and he changed his course. "Well, you look like your life has gone a lot better than mine has…" he then saw who had been sitting next to him, then shifted uncomfortably. "…Sora."

"Takeru." He found himself flinching at the sound of her voice. He had seen her at the funeral…and the hospital, when she had come into his room and spoke to him although she believed he couldn't hear her. He remembered the days preceding that so well…him trying to protect Mimi, the girl he would always carry a torch for, and the sound of Sora's angry voice before she fired the shot. He absently raised his hand to his shoulder, the wound healed, almost forgotten.

"Tai, you get her. We can't have any loose ends. I'll take care of TK."

Taichi went over to Takeru and pushed him onto the ground, as he was just struggling to his feet. "I expect you not to say one word of this-" he said menacingly; but Takeru managed to be firm.

"I will say what I damn please. You two won't get away with this."

"No one would believe you if you tried. We all know you have this crush on Mimi, and want to stick it to Jyou because Sora left your brother twisting in the wind." A hurt look crossed his face.

Takeru sighed; he had a feeling that Tai was right. And he had just told Matt that it was hopeless. Joe wouldn't believe him.

"I'm surprised you aren't letting me die here." Takeru winced at the pain.

"Well;" Tai said coldly, "I realize it is not up to me to determine your fate. Someone else shall handle that, no matter how much it would pleasure me in watching you die." He kicked him in the stomach and Takeru tried not to yell out in pain as Tai and turned to Sora. "You won't kill him, will you? Although nothing would give me more pleasure than to see Matt suffer, I don't want his blood on your hands. I may not love you, but I do care for you."

"Don't worry. Toss me your cell and go." Sora caught his cell-phone and watched as Tai ran after Mimi. Shaking her head, she dialed the police. "Hello...? Yes, I'm in the parking lot of the Odaiba Shopping center... A friend of mine has been shot... No... No, I didn't quite see who it was... His name is Ishida, Takeru..." The look on her face could make milk sour. "All right, I'll stay on the line..." She used her shoulder to hold the phone up to her ear and stuck the gun in her purse, stuffing the bag in behind it.

"Why are you doing this?" Takeru asked.

She didn't answer him.

Looking at her brought the entire memory back, and inwardly he cringed, imagining that look on her face, yet she was different, a mother now. Looking back he couldn't imagine Matt ever having a child with her…or realize how different she had become at the wedding. But he did want to talk to Koushiro, so he put the thoughts out of his mind.

Koushiro was looking back and forth between them, noticing the tension. "…Anything wrong?"

"No, nothing at all." Sora replied, raising from the bench and lifting her son into her arms. "But I think that we'll be leaving now. It's almost time for Jyou's lunch break; we'll surprise him."

"Tell him I said hello."

"Will do," She threw one warning glance at Takeru as her eyes returned to Koushiro's face. "Thanks again."

"You're welcome."

And Sora was gone, and the two men were left in silence for a few moments. Koushiro seemed to be considering the tension, and suddenly his eyes widened.

"Takeru, I'm sorry, it's been a long two years. Maybe it was because so much was going on that I pushed what you had told me out of my mind. You didn't do anything about that shoulder, did you."

Takeru shook his head. "Nope. But I've pretty much forgotten it, and apparently so has she…it doesn't matter anyway. It's the past, and we are who we are now. She wasn't aiming for me, at any rate. I wasn't able to tell then and by the time Kari died it really didn't matter."

: -: -: -: -: -:

She had been running for a long time but she didn't know where to go. She felt foolish, even more than before. He wanted to talk, and she ran away from him.

They had both needed some solace and given it to each other and now they were being pulled in the same directions again. Away. Maybe the comfort was in vain only; it was there and now it was gone. For a minute she imagined his face looming in front of hers, the forbidden golden fruit of the Garden of Eden that she had willingly took. Yet bits and pieces of the night had drifted back to her and for a moment she ached, through the alcoholic haze she recalled the tenderness of his skin beneath her fingers.

Maybe now it would be the time to run to the one place where she could share her pain. The one who had left her and now was gone eternally from her and the one she hoped that one sweet day they might have a second chance. The grass became lush and the gates to the cemetery loomed ahead. She had left here the night before in hopes for a new start, yet she was pulled again by an imaginary rope that was tied firmly around her abdomen. A sharp pain burned in her forehead, probably because of yesterday's alcohol intake, and she found herself staggering forward, past the gates.

She fell to her knees in front of his headstone, kissing it, imagining his mahogany filled orbs to be there, hovering, and watching her. Yet she never knew if he wanted her the same way. If it even did cross him mind at all, and yet she was morning his loss. There was that kiss…was it really for a show, or for what he said it was. She remembered that kiss so well, so well, it wasn't very romantic, but he had pulled her forward a little and planted his lips on hers.

Maybe because it came as a shock it didn't last longer. Maybe the taste of his lips seemed to fade because she had lost him, and now all she had was Takeru's essence clinging to her, refusing to go away. 'He couldn't want me anyway, and even if he did, I'm not good enough…but that wouldn't be right to say…though maybe I wasn't good enough for Dai either…that's why I couldn't hold on to him when I could have.'

She turned, resting her back against the stone, her eyes looking upwards.

It was going to be a long day…