Learn to Fly

four - I Wish You Were Here

: -: -: -: -: -:

I dig my toes into the sand

The ocean looks like a thousand diamonds strewn across a blue blanket

I lean against the wind

Pretend that I am weightless

And in this moment I am happy.

: -: -: -: -: -:

It had been a long time since he had last been here. The old apartment building, the strange familiarity of coming back to a place he hadn't called home in years, and it almost felt, as it never had been. Placing one of his trim hands into his pocket his fingers brushed against a set of keys that he hadn't used but always kept with him. The metal was cool in his hands as his fingers closed around it and he took his hand out of his pocket, and he glanced at the young woman next to him. "Are you ready?"

She nodded as the wind tousled her ginger colored hair, blowing it in front of her face, her serene amber gaze comforting him. "It's now or never. We should just get it over with." The calmness that had developed around her over the years was one of the things he loved most about her; how they learned to become two different people from when they first met, to find new things to enjoy about each other.

The key still fit in the lock, which was a surprise, insinuating that the locks hadn't been altered for over three years and that maybe his brother was still living there after all. "TK?" He called out, peering in, but was greeted by the chilling aura of silence and emptiness.

"I guess coming early wasn't too bad of an idea. It gives us more time." He glanced around what had once been his old apartment with interest. It appeared intact, neat, and it was obvious that Takeru hadn't been there for some time, and it stirred the old brotherly worry that had once existed strongly within him but had faded as the years passed as they were obviously now two very different people.

She could tell that he was worried somewhat. It had been over three years since they had last seen him; would it have had that much of a change of Takeru? Surely the two of them were free from some burdens, but this was entirely different. All that they had been running from would soon be rushing back at them again. Suddenly the old dream felt nightmarish. She watched Yamato as he surveyed what had once been his half of the room, virtually untouched, from the old guitar laying across the bed to his books, and his old notebooks in which he contained the old songs he had been working on and since abandoned.

Of course he had his harmonica with him. It was his trademark; he would never leave it, and he kept it with him as some kind of memoir from the past. She often found the simplicity of it beautiful and intoxicating; and yet quietly relaxing, so she would feel safe. It had been something she first heard when she was ten years old and never thought would hear again.

"Do you think he'll come back?" She asked softly, watching as he was going through the piles of old mail, some of which was addressed to him, untouched in perhaps the hope that he would return and be able to look at it himself.

"He'll come back," The young man decided. "We can wait here until he does."

: -: -: -: -: -:

Her form lay undisturbed by the large stone tombstone, bearing the inscription, 'To Daisuke Motomiya with much love: he deserved so much more and died with honor.'

She lay there for quite a while, asleep, as the morning drew on into the afternoon, and the heat of the day was full upon her, yet the shadow of the stone shielded her from becoming aware of it. Her body appeared rather fragile, as she lay wrapped up in dreams of the past, yearnings for what could have been. This is what made her vulnerable.

The ominous mist that had been hovering near Hikari Kamiya's headstone crept along the ground, mist like in appearance, unnoticeable to the eye, save those who were observant, however, none of those were around. This mist, which thickened as it rolled along the ground, wilting everything in its path as it absorbed the energy, now rose slowly, rising up to the young woman's body, surrounded it in its entirety before sinking in with ease, and then vanished as if it had never been.

Miyako yawned and opened her eyes to the radiance of the afternoon sun. She was feeling quite refreshed, almost feisty, that weariness from the morning departing. Her body felt lighter, somehow, her mood satiated. Remembering and continuing to yearn for the interesting breakfast that she had had in the morning, she only wished that she had more. Perhaps she would still have access to it; it wouldn't be much of a problem. She might tire of it though; or languish going too long without it. But that could be fixed easily. She pressed her hands to her lips and then pressed them onto Daisuke's headstone, making a silent vow to herself and maybe to him too; that she would succeed and not languish like this, 'and soon we'll have what we want'.

"Miyako?" A voice called, and she turned her head around, the lavender hair whirling around her shoulders. "Is that you? What're you doing here?"

"Who's there?" She replied, not recognizing the voice for a moment, taken aback at how hollow her voice seemed to sound, and also slightly discouraged that it hadn't been Takeru.

"It's Ken." And now she could see the indigo haired young man walking towards her, next to him a shorter young man with gleaming green eyes, but she recognized him as well. Of course she did. Ken may have been a good friend, and perhaps she did understand his preference, and knew right away that he would never love her. Yet some strange new instinct was awoken in her as she drifted towards the pair.

"Ken, Iori. What are the two of you doing in a place like this?"

The green-eyed one exhaled intensely as his eyes stirred to look at the gravestones. "We come here every year to pay respects to my father and his brother. Now that we have friends here as well. it has become sort of a grim custom."

"I never knew that, and I'm here a lot." Miyako inhaled sharply. "How come you never told me?"

Ken shrugged. "We figured it was pretty much our business. How we truly connected on a spiritual level, that is."

"You two really are the quiet types," Miyako laughed. 'Just like Koushiro,' something added in her mind, though she didn't understand where it had come from. "I don't understand how I was so lucky to at least have your friendship."

'When you really want so much more, don't you? It's all there for the taking. Take, and then destroy. Until you figure what you really want.' The words were pressed into her mind strangely, as if she were seeing them unfold before her eyes inside of her mind, and suddenly her vision was obscured for a moment, and she was seeing everything entirely different. 'Why should I suffer when I can take all I can get?' she reasoned.

"Miya, you okay?" Ken's voice was concerned. "It's not healthy to stay here the whole day. And something seems different about you."

"Oh, it's nothing," Miyako tossed her mauve colored hair over her shoulder. "Just doing some thinking. And this is always the best place. Yesterday I thought I'd never have to come here anymore; today I realized that this is where my heart belongs."

Ken and Iori glanced at each other. "That really doesn't sound like you."

Miyako smiled, her tawny gaze hovering first on Daisuke's stone, the depressing slab of gray representing her new vow, then again at the two young men, each so handsome and deliciously tempting. How fun it would be until she could get what she really wanted. Something to calm the strange fever which was stinging her forehead, which could have been another after- affect, but she knew it wasn't. This fever could control her, but she would have to stay ahead of it, because everything she did from now on would bring her one step closer.

"You're right. You're looking at the new Miyako Inoue."

: -: -: -: -: -:

After spending a good few hours of conversation, Koushiro finally left to go to his job, leaving Takeru alone to lean back and stare up into the sky. It had been a strange and peculiar day, strange in that he didn't know how it was going to end. Should he look for Miyako after all? Koushiro had proven a good sounding board, and told him to let it cool off for a few days, until his mind was cleared.

"After all," He had said, "You aren't sure how you feel about her. You two clung together in a time of desperation, comfort. Maybe neither of you were ready. And remember you were drunk. You'll figure it out. Drink lots of water at least, try to let your head clear more. You deserve as much."

"Thanks Izzy. You'd make a great philosopher, you know that?"

The auburn-haired one smiled at this. "I guess these last three years have made me this way. Before I never was really interested in the workings of the mind in connection to the soul, but somehow computer science doesn't seem as important to me. It's your life. It's my life. We should be living it, instead of analyzing it. But it's also best not to rush into anything too quickly."

He watched the leaves as they blew around, then pushed the ones that had fell into his blonde hair and admired the many colors, of rich reds and oranges and even those of bright yellow, and then looked up at the sky, which was a pale blue as the white clouds were rolling in again, yet the sun was bright on this autumn day as he tried to find some peace within himself that Koushiro seemed to find, but one that he couldn't. Maybe he should go back home. "Yes," he thought to himself. "Yes, I think I'll go home." It had been a few days since he had been, and there were things he had to take care of. His apartment wasn't too far from the park, and he would get a good walk out of it, besides.

He had attempted to busy himself with college, but grew bored with it easily, finding no hope in that, just eternal tediousness. Perhaps once he discovered his vocation it would be easier. Yet the only thing that came to him was writing, and he didn't want to go the same path that his mother had went, wanting to stay the most away from her as possible. He missed the days when he was younger and free, and could wander the Digital World with his best friend. But the worlds were forever separated and besides, he had to learn how to deal with the harsh realities.

She didn't have to die, though. For all that she put him through; she didn't have to die. No matter how much she changed. His light. She still hindered him from gaining his own life. Still haunted him even when he wanted her to disappear. It almost made him feel sorry for Sora. Maybe he did forgive the shot to his shoulder. It was just physical pain, and that eventually did recede.

She was right though, she always was, he thought. She had her obsession; at least, to keep her feeling satisfied.

Leaves were in his path and he kicked at them slightly, sticking his cold hands into his pockets, bending his head slightly against the wind.

: -: -: -: -: -:

The young man returned to the place where he had been keeping his residence, pleased to find his way out of the sun.

He hated and despised the light now, for what virtue did that ever do for his sister? Yet she hated it too, and had let her soul become one with the darkness, because it was useless to fight it in vain.

Who would have ever thought him to become the seeker of souls? Him, fearless, courageous, strong, independent.him? He laughed when he thought of it, the way he used to be. It wasn't that long ago. He had once been leader of the chosen children, chosen to be the leader, not the follower, to lead the struggles against the evils.

He who was so least likely to become evil himself.

A smirk crossed his lips again. He had a new purpose in life now. Evil wasn't birthed; it was the recycling of old spirits never vanquished, reusing their prey.requiring only fresh souls to work with. When they had taken his own he was at a point of desperation. It was perhaps this desperation, the necessity to become a hero.how ridiculous that seemed now. The only thing that was important now was securing himself so he could get exactly what he wanted.

"Kojiro.and Mimi." He mused, the names delicate on his lips. "It won't be too long."

He had waited long enough.

: -: -: -: -: -:

At least an hour or so had passed, and the two of them had made themselves comfortable by some means. Yamato had slipped into his old role as the older brother preparing a meal for his younger brother to surprise him when he came home. Mimi had found an old deck of cards and was lying on her stomach on top of Yamato's old bed, shuffling them as she prepared for another game of solitaire. The emptiness of the apartment made her tremble somewhat, at its quietness, its lack of life.

The sound of jangling keys could be heard easily in this silence, as Yamato continued to cook in the kitchen, and Mimi looked up with surprise and quickly stepped inside of the kitchen.

Takeru opened the door and it creaked slightly. For a moment he was unable to speak when he entered his apartment to the fresh scent of food cooking.he was reminded almost instantly of the days when Yamato would cook for them. After he disappeared take-out had been what he had been living off of, and day-to-day jobs. His current one he hadn't gone too in nearly a week, and probably lost it by this point.

"Matt." He could hardly believe the name had crossed his lips, and suddenly his brother stepped out before him and he was gazing into the quieting dazzling blue. But to look into those startling eyes again, the ones that matched his so perfectly.

"You're.you're." Takeru's words faltered, and he didn't know whether to be happy, angry, or to commit himself to some asylum. Either his over-active imagination was playing tricks on him, or his brother was actually standing there, in the same way he always would, even if looking slightly different.

"Yes, TK." He swallowed. "I'm here."

For a moment they stood there, as two strangers. Then without thinking the younger flung himself into the arms of his brother, and suddenly he was a quivering mess of blonde hair and tears. Yamato cradled his brother towards him, starting to cry himself. "I missed you, so much."

"I thought you were dead, Matt;" Takeru's voice was a whisper. "I.I thought, you were gone. forever."

Mimi watched the reunion from the kitchen archway, smiling slightly despite the tears that were forming in her own eyes. 'I wish I had some family to turn to.' But she was perfectly content in watching those two; it just seemed so wholesome, so right. Yamato glanced towards her, and stretched out his hand, pulling her into the warm embrace. And the three of them stayed that way, for what felt like a long time, and yet was cut short too soon.

"Why did you stay away for so long?"

"We had to start over again. We couldn't stay here. You were right, all along, and I was just a failure. Now we both have new jobs and new lives, and even though it's not what we're used to, it's just perfect TK." Yamato paused. "It's the city, and we work in a restaurant, and Mimi also works in a boutique, and we're always saving up, so we were able to pay for our trip here."

"You and Mimi." Takeru smiled at her. "Married yet?"

"Nope." Mimi giggled. "We want to wait until our future is at least secure."

"Oh, don't be stupid," said Takeru, half-laughing. "It's been three years. You've been living together. How much more secure can you get?"

Yamato shrugged. "It's just the way it is. But what about you.? The last time I saw you, you were in a relationship with Kari. I'm surprised she hasn't moved in. Or is that why you haven't been home?" He stopped speaking when he saw the pained expression reflected in Takeru's eyes and his face.

"Kari's dead," He said flatly. "She had completely lost it, and was hung up over Jyou. She thought that to secure something with him, she had to kill us. Me, Daisuke, Koushiro. Daisuke ended up dead, distracting her so Koushiro and I could run away. And Miyako was in love with him all that time and it just broke her. Kari ended up getting hit by Sora's car, but we aren't supposed to talk about it."

"Sora?" Mimi shivered, and glanced over at Yamato, who was clearly replaying what had been Taichi's last moments in his mind.

"What happened to Sora?" He asked, trying to seem undaunted.

"She and Jyou are still married. I just saw her in the park today. I haven't seen her since the funeral, nor gave her much thought since then. I had been struggling to find my own path and I really thought I needed you. Were you dead? That sort of thing."

"Takeru." Mimi breathed. "I'm really sorry. About the last time that I saw you."

The younger blonde smiled, for a moment. "My shoulder, you mean? I'd long forgotten about it. It pains me, sometimes, like it did earlier, but I will never regret it." For a moment he seemed to be in quiet reflection. "What about Tai? The bastard never showed up for his sister's funeral. Figured he was still chasing after you."

Yamato glanced sharply over at Mimi, who was looking directly at him. Takeru witnessed the exchange, confused.

"The only thing he will be chasing after," Yamato said decidedly, "Are fish. Let's leave it at that."

: -: -: -: -: -:

For some people, it was a beautiful day. Ken Ichijouji happened to be one of them, as he stood near the water's edge, oblivious to the things that occurred there in the past years. To him the water gave him an immense feeling of calm, and it made him feel good, not having that sensation for years.

His companion also felt the same, looking out into the water. Ken smiled when he looked down into his face. The serene gaze in those green eyes was enough to make him melt. "You're too quiet."

His companion smiled. "You know me. I like to get caught up in my thoughts, that's all."

"I hope they're good ones," Ken laughed, and returned his gaze to the water. "Something's strange about Miyako. Have you noticed?"

The younger nodded, absently picking up a few rocks and tossing them across the bank, watching them skim the waters surface before sinking to the bottom. "It's a strange feeling that I got. It's as if she has death on her."

"What do you mean?" Ken raised an eyebrow.

The ponderous one shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I have so many questions about it, but I don't think she's in any condition to answer. She seemed to be in a good mood; I guess that's what mattered."

Ken shook his head. "It was as if she were trying to come on to me. And she knows about us."

"The new Miyako Inoue," The younger mused, as the breeze blew through their hair, the dancing strands of indigo belonging to his companion bewitching him. He was an elegant structure of beauty, exquisite features notwithstanding. "I can see why she'd show some attraction towards you."

Ken laughed. "I guess. But it's a waste of time on her part."

His companion grinned for a moment, before his expression turned. "I feel as if we didn't finish with our respects. Should we go back, and finish this morbid day?"

"Did I mention that I find your new method of speech highly intoxicating?" Ken asked with a smile as the two turned their backs to the glittering water and began walking away.

His companion smirked. "And to think, that I once didn't want to trust you."

"We were children then. It feels so long ago," Ken heaved a sigh as he put his arm around his friend. "It's getting chilly. We better get back there soon, before it gets too cold."

"You're right."

"Seeing Miya really put me on edge. I hope she's okay."

"She probably is, knowing her." The younger chuckled as they continued strolling.

: -: -: -: -: -:

Back at her apartment, Miyako wandered around it, almost as a stranger. Feeling light and carefree, bound by some new purpose. She paused, as she looked in the mirror, surprised by her reflection. She could see a pale outline glow for a moment, before sinking in.

"I will never drink again." She said aloud to her reflection, which mouthed the same words back at her.

Or maybe she would, she reasoned internally. The first few drinks had tasted good; it was only after the next few fully encompassed her that she had become completely under the influence. She was surprised that she didn't feel ill. The strange fever and headaches were her only apparent symptoms, and as soon as she had gotten away from the light did they ease up.

She stretched across her bed and closed her eyes, attempting to fall into a full, undisturbed slumber. Just to have one tranquil moment before going out into the world again. Without any interruptions. Who did she want? Daisuke, obviously. But he was gone now. Or was he? Perhaps there would be a way of contacting him again.

But until him, there was always the notion of 'pure' Takeru, which she had already the satisfaction of corrupting. Was it satisfaction? No; she had been lucky. She flopped over in her bed again. Thinking was becoming too strenuous. She was confused and asking herself questions that she couldn't possibly answer.

Until a different voice answered them for her.