AN: *A-hem**deep breath**singing* Aaaaa…VERY merry un-birthday…to you? Yes you! A VERY merry un-birthday for you! For you! Now blow the candles out my dear and make your wish come trUUUUUUUEE!! A very merry un-na-BIRTH-a-day! To! YOOOUUU!!!
^_^ See, I'm so nice. Didn't even make you wait for the big 100. Demo…review more better, ok?! Definitely more.
Pineapples, people! Pineapples!
Oh, yea! And I just remembered that I've been forgetting my disclaimer! So here goes:
Disclaimer: …If I owned them…you think they'd be in English? o_O Naw. Would I work at a pineapple patch? (grr) Naw. So, logically, here. Do I own them? *laughs hysterically* I wish! Oh, that's a good one…do I own them…hee…*wipes tear* So funny.
How'd I do?!
(By the way, this and the chapter before it have been a test in HTML code. ^_^;; Explaines more than it doesn't, huh?)
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Chapter…Nine? *shrug* We'll say nine.
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As the days melted into weeks, and the weeks into months, Matt's wounds slowly healed. While waiting to get better, the two occupants of the room talked and soothed each other's fears.
Matt was afraid because he couldn't remember anything about himself, his family, or his past.
Sakura was frightened because she was dying.
When she first told Matt, he was shocked. "You're…you're what?"
The girl took a deep, shaky breath. "I'm dying."
"But…but why? How?"
"I have cancer…and they can't operate on it."
"But what about-"
She shook her head. "They've tried everything. They tried chemotherapy once, but all it did was send the cancer into remission. It came back worse than it was before. There's no hope now. My death will be lingering, painful, and unavoidable." Something about the idea of her having no hope sat badly with Matt. A deep frown creased his forehead. Sakura, seeing his distress, asked, "What's the matter, Matt?" She called him that because he had requested it, hoping the supposedly familiar nickname would jog a memory. Even after all these many weeks, if he was deep in thought he didn't instantly recognize the name as his own and wouldn't look up. Sakura called him three more times in various tones before he looked up. "What's the matter?" she asked again.
He sighed and looked down. "Nothing," he murmured. "It's just…there's something so familiar about that word…'hope.' The feelings behind it are almost recognizable. For just a second, I got an image, a picture of myself as I might have been when I was little…but it's gone now." He sighed. "Anyway, I don't think it's right of you to give up on even hope."
"I'm going to die," she responded gently. "There's no way to avoid it."
"Well, everyone dies," he pointed out. "I might even die this very day."
Sakura looked pained. "Don't say that! Don't ever, ever say that! You're not going to die in this place! The doctors all say you're going to make a full recovery. You'll be fine and live a good, long life."
He smiled patiently. "Sakura, if the doctors really believed that, if they really believed I was fine, why have I been in this hospital for three months? I haven't regained my memory, I remain ill, and I haven't got the energy to even stand. I sleep most of my days away. That isn't normal."
The girl looked desperate. "So many people worked so hard to keep you alive on the night you came in here, and so many people are still fighting for you."
His face darkened and he looked over at the numerous machines, wires, tubes, and needles attached to him. "I know," he agreed darkly. "In fact, they should be here for my daily blood sample soon."
Sakura sighed. "Mine too." She shook her head. "But that isn't the point! The point is, you've got to fight, Yamato. You've got to fight whatever's going on in your body until it gives up. You can't loose faith! You…you…"
"You've got to keep hoping that things will turn out right," he finished with a smile.
She blinked and sighed. "Ok. I get it. You're making another point. You might not have any memories, but you're still smarter than I am."
"Naturally." She glared at him and he grinned back. "So here's the deal," he said finally. "I won't give up if you don't. Ok?"
She smiled and nodded. "You got it!" They smiled for a moment, then he blinked and looked confused. "What?" she questioned warily.
Usually when he looked like that he was about to ask a question she couldn't answer. "I was just wondering," he began and ignored her wince, "why you told me that you were dying."
She blinked. "What?"
"Yea, I mean, you didn't have to. We could have just gone on the way we have been. You didn't have to say anything at all. Why did you?"
She sighed. "For once, you've asked a question I can answer." He looked extremely pleased with himself, and she smiled. "I told you because I learn from my mistakes."
He stared at her. "What do you mean?"
"Well, I once had a very good friend-"
"You once had? What happened to him?"
"Wait for it, I'm getting there."
"Oh. Sorry."
"It's all right. Anyway, I had this very good friend, maybe even my best friend ever-"
"Did I have a best friend?"
"I should know that? May I finish my story?"
"Oh, of course. Sorry."
"It's ok. So I had a best friend, and we'd known each other for a very long while before he figured out I had cancer. I never told him. He was very angry, because I had spent our entire friendship trying to get him to be totally honest but I wasn't being honest myself. The night he found out…we had a fight. A very bad fight. It was all my fault, and he left my house angry."
"What happened?" Matt asked gently. Whenever he got emotional or passionate about something, his voice softened, and Sakura had to concentrate to understand his question.
After she finally pieced together what he was saying, she sighed. "He left."
The boy looked offended on her behalf. "Why'd he do that? Weren't you just trying to protect him from the pain of having to deal with your…illness?"
Sakura sighed again. "Matt, that may have been my intention, but I don't think he appreciated it. He wanted to know…needed to know."
"How'd he find out?"
"He figured it out little by little. Just slip ups here and there. He found a document in my house…it isn't important."
"Oh…well, where'd he go?"
She glanced at him, then out the window. She could never look at him when she lied. "I don't know. I heard that…that he died, but I don't think he really did. I know he'll come back eventually. I just know it."
Once again Matt was offended for her. "That's terrible!"
Sakura quickly looked over at him. He was getting agitated, thinking about the cruel boy who had left her with only a rumor of his death. "Matt, don't work yourself into a state thinking about it, I'm fine. It wasn't his fault, it was mine, and-"
"But it wasn't!" he exclaimed, looking at her indignantly. His chest rose and fell in quick, shallow, raspy breaths. "It was his fault! He never should have left your house with bad feelings!"
"Matt-"
"Sakura, it's not true. It's not your fault. It's not my fault, either, though, right?"
Sakura stared at him. Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead as his chest labored for breath and his eyes glazed over. "What?"
"I mean, it's not my fault, is it? It's because he's never ridden before. He's obviously not ready for that, don't put him on Stargrazer! She's my horse anyway…it isn't fair." Worried, Sakura called to the boy until his hazy, half-lidded eyes turned to her. "It isn't my fault he fell."
"Who, Matt? What are you talking about?"
"Takeru," he explained dazedly. "It isn't my fault Takeru fell off Stargrazer. She's my racing horse and T.K.'s never even been riding before, I don't think. So it's not my fault he fell off when they jumped." He looked worried. "Is it?"
Sakura's concern mounted. "Matt, T.K.'s never even been to your ranch. How could he have ridden your racing horse?"
Matt laughed. "Silly Sakura! I don't own horses. But I own a wolf. Oh, and two bears! And a squirrel, I think." A drop of sweat slid down Matt's face to drip onto his hospital bed. A tiny cough escaped his lips.
Suddenly Sakura's confusion disappeared and she understood. The fever had reasserted itself again and he was lost in its grip. Delusional words and half-formed thoughts tumbled from his mouth. A look of fear slipped across his face.
"Sakura," he whispered, looking at her. "Sakura, I'm on a cliff. I hate cliffs. They hurt terribly. I…I'm going to fall." He shut his eyes and covered them with his hands. His entire body shook violently, as much from fear as the fever. "I'm falling! It'll hurt when I land. I'll die and my wolf won't be able to save me this time! I'll stay dead…forever and ever and I'll never get to…to say I'm sorry." He jerked suddenly and his eyes flew open. The beginnings of a scream were cut off sharply as a thin line of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Matt sunk back into his pillows, his chest heaving in shallow breaths. Dangerously intense coughs assailed his weakened body. His vacant eyes stared unseeingly out the hospital window.
Terrified, Sakura hit the intercom button on her bed. "Hello?" a slow voice answered. Apparently Sakura had woken the nurse from a deep sleep. At this point she really didn't care. "This is Sakura in room 210! It's happened again! Matt…Matt's in trouble! Please come quickly, he's coughing and bleeding. I think he's dying!"
The nurse didn't even answer. After a very few moments, doctors came pouring into the room. Matt's coughing had redoubled and he was curled into a tight ball, one hand clasped over his mouth, unable to breathe. After several minutes, during which the doctors attempted vainly to calm him, they finally used sedatives. Once Matt was sleeping, they quickly checked him for external injuries. While two did this, a third listened to his chest.
"His lungs are filling!" the doctor exclaimed suddenly, moving his stethoscope slightly to listen to the other lung. "Only the right lung, actually, and that's an improvement, I guess. Still, somebody prep surgery!" The three doctors wheeled Matt out of the room followed by a trail of interns and nurses, all babbling about the boy's condition.
When they were gone, only Matt and Sakura's normal nurse was left in the room. She sighed and looked over to her last remaining patient. The girl sat in her bed, very quiet but trembling violently.
"Oh, you poor thing," the older woman murmured, sitting next to the child and gathering her in her arms. "You poor little cherry blossom. You have to see so much, don't you?"
"Why are these things happening to him?" she asked, fighting tears. "What did he do so bad to deserve all these things that always happen to him? Why him? Why isn't he getting any better? Why isn't his chest healing?"
The nurse sighed sympathetically. "Well, dear, it's nothing that he did or didn't do. These things aren't happening because he was a bad boy. It's because of the nature of his ailments. It would have been hard enough for him to recuperate from the sickness he has or the fall he took, but both? My dear, it's a hard thing for anyone to survive the things he's been through. Be happy that he's alive."
"But for how much longer?" Sakura demanded, irate. "How much longer can he just hang in the balance? How much longer can he knock on death's door before the door opens? How many times can he just barely escape? Why is he always just one step ahead? Why isn't he getting any better?"
The nurse smiled gently. "Why, dear, weren't you listening? He is getting better. His left lung was fine this time. Remember how much trouble he used to have with it? And his heart didn't act up either. I think that's wonderful progress from last time, don't you?"
Sakura sighed. "Yes…I guess it is. But why is it taking so long?"
The nurse sighed. "Well, it's hard to explain, so if it's alright with you, I'll bring the terms down a level. Do you mind?"
"Not as long as I can know what's going on."
"All right, then, dear, let me see how I can phrase this. Now, he had a very dangerous disease of the lungs. Phlegm and the like is building in his chest and making it very hard to breathe. There isn't really anything the doctors can give him, because this illness is rather rare, so he just has to get lots of rest and let his body take care of him. However, when he fell off that cliff, his ribs broke and punctured both lungs in several places. Normally that would be painful but not too threatening, as long as he can be observed closely. And he has been observed, but illness and injured lungs are a bad combination. The phlegm is affecting the way his lungs are healing. Its aggravating the wounds. When he gets upset and his breathing quickens, his lungs can't fill entirely because of the phlegm and he coughs. But the coughing reopens the puncture wounds. Do you see how it is complicated? He needs to cough to get rid of the phlegm, but he can't because it will open his wounds. He is a difficult case."
Sakura sighed sadly. "He's going to have to spend so much time here…I'm worried about him."
"We all are, dear," the nurse agreed, hugging the girl. "We all are."
The scene shifted again. The Digidestined were in the same hospital room, but it was now dark. A digital clock on the table by Sakura's bed labeled the time 1:37 AM. Matt was back in the room, sleeping deeply but fitfully. He kept gasping periodically and moving slightly. Sweat gathered on his forehead and slipped down his face to drip onto his pillow. His breaths were labored and shallow. He moaned gently, his face contorting in pain, and tried to roll over. The IVs in his right wrist caught and he winced in his sleep, settling for merely turning his head to the side rather than actually rolling over. On the other side of the room, Sakura sat up in bed, her legs pulled up to her chest, watching him fight for every breath he took. She knew that if he weren't so heavily sedated he would be awake, lying very still so as not to wake anyone else, staring at the ceiling. He would probably either be concentrating simply on breathing or thinking about his missing past. Sometimes she woke in the early morning to find him lying in bed, smiling sadly at her, having gone sleepless the entire night. Matt hated drugs and the idea behind them, and refused to tell the doctors he needed help getting to sleep and staying in that state once achieved. The doctors were all quite fond of him and his gentle smile. They would have loved to ease his sufferings, especially one female doctor who was convinced that Matt was the single cutest being on the planet. However, Sakura knew he would never ask for medication or mention his many sleepless nights. She also knew that if she told the doctors, he would accept the medication but be wary of her from that moment on. To grant him an easy sleep she would have to betray his hard-won trust, and the situation hadn't fallen to that point yet. A sharp pang of pain shot through Sakura. She winced and clutched her stomach. It hurt so badly. She wanted to cry out and call attention to herself. She wanted pain medication and something that would knock her out so she wouldn't have to feel anymore. But she didn't, and she knew she wouldn't. Once again she looked over at the other occupant of the room. Matt gasped in a shallow breath. His hands clenched into fists on top of the wrinkled bed sheets. Sweat slipped onto his pillow. Obviously his fever was back in full force. Sighing, she rolled over in her bed and hit the intercom button.
"Hello?" The voice was crisp and efficient with a southern accent, but quiet. After all, it was an ungodly hour of the morning and the nurse didn't want to wake anyone up.
"Hi, this is Sakura in room 210."
"Oh, I was warned about you. Is that boy actin' up again?"
Sakura sighed. "Well," she whispered back, "yes and no."
"What?"
"See, he has a really bad fever and he's on medication for it, even though he doesn't know that, because he hates medicine."
Pause. ""Uh-huh. I think I understood that. What's your problem, honey?"
The girl sighed again. "I think the medication's wearing off."
"Oh?"
"Yea. He's not sleeping as well, even though his anesthesia still has him under. His rest is very fitful. Plus he's sweating and this room is an ice box."
"When I come with another dose of medicine, do you want me to turn the temperature up for you, sugar?"
"Oh, no thank you. I think that it'd just be too hot for him if it were warmer for me."
"You might be right. The last thing he needs at this point is heat stroke, right?"
"Exactly."
"Well, that's very considerate of you. I'll be right there with his medication."
"Thank you. Oh, and, um…if he wakes up while you're…you know…medicating him, could you…I mean, would you please…"
"Don't worry, darnlin'. I won't tell him who tipped me off that he was tossin' and turnin'."
Sakura sighed in relief. "Thank you."
"No problem. I'll be right over."
Time sped up. Scenes flashed by in rapped succession. With growing concern the Digidestined watch first Matt then Sakura begin sleeping more and more, and eating less and less. Sakura deteriorated before their eyes. Her face lost its color as her weight seemed to evaporate and her eyes grew dim. The cancer invading her body tore down her resistance and seeped into the very core of her being. The Digidestined watched her wither. However, no matter how distressing Sakura's condition was or became, Matt was always leagues ahead of her. When sleep finally became an impossible feat for him to achieve on his own, she asked him to consider using the highly recommended sleep-inducing IV. He was too tired and weak to resist any longer, and that scared her more than his deteriorating physical appearance. He was still beautiful, though now he was so in a definitely ill way, but his fighting spirit started weakening along with his ailing body, and that worried her. Matt no longer opposed drugs or medication; he didn't have the strength or the will to. He seemed tired of fighting. Finally Sakura confronted him about his lack of spirit.
"I'm too tired," he admitted faintly, staring at the bumps on the ceiling. Recently he couldn't even sit up in bed. His voice was so soft when he had the gumption to say anything that it was hard for her to catch what he was murmuring, but she strained her ears and made herself hear him.
"Tired of what, Matt?" she demanded. "Tired of fighting? Tired of living?"
"Tired of…everything," he gasped. His illness, the doctors noticed, was not receding. It remained in full force, growing in strength every day, as though fed by some outside source. To combat it they added more medicines to the growing list.
"You can't mean that!" Sakura exclaimed.
"I…do."
"But…but you can't! We promised we'd never give up, remember? We said we'd always fight our illnesses and we'd win. Remember?"
He smiled faintly at the ceiling. "Remember? I can't even remember my own name most of the time. The fever comes and goes, taking anything I might have recalled with it. Most every time a nurse comes in I can't remember if I've seen her before. She'll smile at me and say, 'Hi, Matt,' and I have to guess if that's my name. I remembered something very important last night, but those damn drugs- which I can't even fight against because I'm so pitiful- knocked me out and took my memory with them. I can't even remember what it was I remembered. I'm nobody. I don't have a name or a birthday or a family or a home. I don't even remember you some of the time, Sakura. Sometimes I look at you and I can't even remember your name or how I met you or if I've even met you before. The only reasons I pretend to remember you are because you smile so warmly and talk so gently. Other times, when I'm not sleeping in a drug-induced coma, I think I've gone insane. I can't tell what's up or down and doctors come in to ask me if I want another drug and I'm so confused and lost and crazy I just smile and nod. I hate this, Sakura. I hate being drugged, I hate not knowing who I am, I hate not being able to take care of myself, I hate being defenseless, I hate the wires and the plugs and the machines and the bandages and the blood samples and the IVs. I hate the doctors and the nurses and the interns. They're all nice people, but I hate them. I hate being poked and prodded and dissected and cut up and sewn back together, like so many pieces of a quilt. I'm not a damn pincushion. I'm not a loon who needs to be sedated for his own good. If I'm in pain, so be it. It means I'm alive. I know I should be in pain, but I'm not because of the medication. I feel slow and stupid and dead. I'm not even sure I'm alive at all until I recognize the beeps of all those machines or hear my own raspy breaths. Is this all I have to fight for, Sakura? A life of lying in bed surrounded by machines and medical staff? Going day by day pumped so full of drugs I should be arrested? It's not worth the effort anymore. I'm tired."
Silent tears slipped down Sakura's face. "Please don't give up," she begged, choking on sobs. "Please don't leave me here all by myself. You're a strong person, strong and brave. More so than I. You're not afraid of pain or death or anything that you face. If you are scared, you face up to it. You always have. I…I'm a coward. I like the drugs that dull the pain and help me to sleep. I like them because I hate to suffer. I hate pain. I'm terrified of dying. I wish I were brave like you! I wish I could hate the medication and the machines and the care they're giving me. I wish I were strong enough to hate the doctors for giving me drugs, the interns for pampering me, the nurses for doing anything they think I can't, even if I really can. I wish I could look at death and not start crying in absolute horror. Oh, Matt, I wish I were half as brave as you! Then maybe I could sit here and understand what you're going through. Maybe then I wouldn't be so very selfish. But I am a coward and I am selfish. I don't want you to die. I want to be very selfish and keep you with me forever and ever. I don't want to be in this hospital by myself. I'd be too frightened to live on another minute after you, and I'd just die. But I'm so afraid to die! So very, very terribly afraid. Won't you please let me be a selfish, scared little girl for a bit longer, Matt? Please won't you stay with me and fight to live this life you hate so much?"
Another small smile curved Matt's lips as he stared at the ceiling. "All right, Sakura," he murmured, his eyes drooping closed. "All right. It's ok. I don't mind. I'll keep living for you. I hate it when you're scared more than I hate all of this."
Tears continued coursing down the girl's cheeks as Matt slipped into another deep sleep. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry I'm so selfish."
"You're not selfish," he returned softly, his eyes closed. "I just wish…"
"What do you wish, Matt?"
"I wish I wasn't on any drugs. I wish they'd all be taken away. I didn't feel so awful before them. I might not be in any pain now, and I might sleep deeper, but they're hurting me. I just know they are…and I hate them."
"How are they hurting you?"
He didn't answer. His head dropped limply to one side. A lock of hair fell over his eyes and she knew he was asleep.
"Sweat dreams, Matt."
He moaned unhappily in his sleep and shifted slightly. Sakura suddenly understood what he was going through, even if she didn't feel the same way, and an intense pity for him well within her. He truly hated the position of abject helplessness he was in. She wished she could do something for him. The scenes sped up again, though not so dramatically as before. Three days passed, and though Sakura rose every morning, Matt slept on. The doctors believed him to be recovering, but Sakura knew something was wrong. Though she was told not to, one day she decided to wake him up. She tried everything from screaming to chucking a pillow at him. Nothing worked. Finally she sat and watched him sleep in a huff.
"You know," she informed him, "if you were going to drop into a healing coma, you could at least have let me know. I would have joined you." Something about their hospital room was suddenly and desperately wrong. Whatever it was, it was important. Sakura concentrated and pinned it down. One of the monitors was slowing. "Funny," Sakura murmured, craning in her bed to see which it was. When finally she could see it, she gasped. "Oh, my God!" Throwing herself over, she clicked the intercom button.
"Hurry, hurry! This is room 210. Yamato Ishida's heart monitor just slowed down!"
The voice that answered was new and masculine. "May I ask what the problem is?"
"Aren't you listening? He's about two seconds away from flat lining!"
There was no response. Within seconds the room was filled with medical personnel.
"We should just set this kid up with a room in surgery!" one of the doctors exclaimed.
"He's not there yet," another countered. They worked feverishly on him. As they did, Sakura's new personal nurse- the intercom lady with a southern accent- slipped into the room, carrying a bag of blood. She approached her patient's bed while watching the ruckus around the boy.
"Poor darlin'," she murmured to Sakura. "The little guy goes through so much, havin' to do and take all that stuff he doesn't want to, and now this! The poor thing…"
Suddenly an idea presented itself. "Megan, could you do me a favor?"
Surprised, the nurse looked back at her patient. "Sure, hon. What'd ya need?"
"Could you go to wherever it is you keep the records and check Matt's blood sample from yesterday?"
"Well, no problem, sugar, but what about-"
Sakura waived her hand impatiently. "I'll hold it, just go check!"
"What'm I lookin' for?"
"Signs of poisoning." Sakura took the bag of blood from her nurse.
"Poisonin's easy enough to spot if you- Wait a minute, poisonin'? Darlin', I know your friend's condition might be a tad odd, but who'd poison him? Why, he's just the sweetest little thing any of us ever did see, and we all love him to death! None of us'd harm a hair on him."
"Yes, but I don't think it's intentional. I think it's an accident."
"Oh?"
"Yes, but there's no time! Please go check for me."
"Certainly, hon. I'm on my way."
Sakura was right. Matt was poisoned, and very badly at that. He was extremely resistant to sleeping drugs for a reason. No one could have guessed how violently allergic he was to them. As the days dragged on and his condition steadily worsened, they had upped the dosage dramatically, slowly weakening his immune system and opening him up to several complications, including an advanced stage of his disease and infections in several of his wounds, both external and internal. The doctor who looked at his latest record was floored.
"Look at this!" he roared. "All of these reports are bad. Didn't anybody ever check these?"
"No time for blame," a nurse replied quickly. "We have to get this kid to the OR STAT or he's going to die."
The scene shifted. Matt was again lying in his bed, watched from across the room by Sakura. She was studying him seriously when her nurse came in.
"You won't do him any good just starin' at him, darlin'."
"I know," Sakura sighed. "I just can't help it."
"You gonna tell him how you feel when he wakes up?"
The girl hesitated. "Well…yes. I think so, anyway. But what if he wakes up and doesn't remember me?"
"Hon, just because he don't love you doesn't mean you can't love him. Tell him how you feel and then be patient. He'll come around to you. I mean, he did again and again, right?"
Sakura sighed. "Yea…I guess so. But what if-"
At that moment, the specialty doctor assigned to Matt's daily care bustled into the room.
Megan sighed. "Darlin', you have a way of makin' me feel slow and unimportant."
The doctor turned to look at her, surprised. "Megan!" he exclaimed, and blushed. Megan smiled sweetly at him, which didn't help the doctor's blush in the least. Finally he got control of himself and coughed. "What're you doing here?"
She quirked an eyebrow, lifted the bag of blood she carried very slightly, and pointed at Sakura, who waved.
The doctor blushed again. "Sorry," he muttered. "I was too preoccupied to notice you ladies."
He sighed and Sakura sat straighter in her bed, concerned. "Preoccupied with what? With Matt or with something else?"
"Oh, with Yamato, definitely."
"Why?"
He looked sharply at her, then sighed and rubbed his face harshly. Turning to his patient, he examined the bags hanging around the boy filled with various fluids attached to him through IVs. Finally he sighed and stared sadly at the unmoving figure in the bed.
"It was seven hour surgery," he explained. "Seven hours. That's a very long time. The poor kid…he lost a lot of blood and he was so weak to start out…"
"So?" Sakura demanded, terror seeping into her. "So what? He can survive. He's Yamato Ishida, he always survives!"
The doctor shook his head slowly. "We may have won that battle, but we're loosing the war. The disease in his lungs is caused by rheumatic fever, which is a very bad complication of strep throat. However, this thing he's suffering from…it's a mutation unlike anything we've ever seen before. It's an entirely new strand, resistant to every type of medicine we have for it. Not that our medicine ever helped him. We'd prescribe sleep normally, but he's so afflicted he can't, not well, anyway. We can't give him anything to help with that because he's so violently allergic to some component in the drugs it'd kill him. He might still have had a chance, but…he lost so much blood. We discovered that he had been hemorrhaging for quite some time. Add that to the seven hours of surgery…he just lost too much blood to replenish it himself in his state."
"So? Just give him some through an IV!"
The doctor shook his head sadly. "This hospital isn't made for cases like his. We've sent out word for help, but…it's the dead of winter. We're snowed in, and there's nowhere for a helicopter to land. Nothing can get in and nothing can get out."
"So? What does that mean?"
"It means we're screwed," Megan replied softly, staring with sorrow at Matt's prone form. "It means that there isn't enough blood for him in the entire establishment. The people of this town are pricks and never come in for the blood drive, and we're only issued so much. It's enough usually, but not for him. Poor baby. Poor, innocent baby."
A drop of sweat slipped down Matt's temple. He was too tired even to fuss in his sleep. I can't loose him, Sakura thought suddenly. He can't die. He can't. I-I have to do something. I have to save him. No matter what. In that instant, inspiration was born of desperation.
"Megan!" Sakura gasped. "Matt and I…we have the same blood type!"
Megan stiffened. "So?" she asked cautiously, moving to set the girl's IV up.
"So. Give the blood that would have gone to me to Matt! There's enough tucked away for my case to save him, right?"
The nurse shook her head, not in denial but in exasperation. "Look, Sakura," she began, hooking the new blood of bag to her stand, "it's a nice thought, but you need this. Without it, your cancer will win in no time."
"Megan." Sakura's voice was so strong, so confident, so decided, that the nurse had to look at her. "I know that you care about me, and that my doing this will shorten my own life, but the only reason I'm even in this hospital is to keep me comfy while I die. I'm almost there anyway, and I'm not afraid anymore. Wouldn't it be great to go out doing something wonderful for the boy I love?" Megan shook her head. "If you don't do this for me, I'll do it myself when you leave. Even if you take me out of this room and move Matt too I'll find him and give it to him. He needs it more than I do and I'll see he gets it. No matter what."
Seeing the girl's resolve, Megan turned to the speechless doctor. "Well, Doc. It looks like you won't be loosing your patient after all."
The scene shifted. No one knew how much time had passed, but they were all still in the hospital. Lying in his bed, Matt moaned slightly and rolled over as best he could. There was something loud in his room. Loud, long, and obnoxious. It was a high, steady beep. Finally he could stand it no longer and opened his eyes. Instant recognition flared in his mind. This was his room in the hospital, room 210. The room he shared with Sakura. Wincing at the shrill sound still in the room, Matt sat up. His head spun.
"Ow…Sakura, what's that noise?" His voice was horse but loud. There was no answer. Blinking, Matt leaned over to look at her. She was sleeping peacefully in her bed, a slight smile warming her face. The boy blinked again. He couldn't remember…did she usually sleep this deeply? "Sakura?" Matt attempted to push himself out of bed and winced. Looking down, he saw two needles in his left arm and a third in his right. Numb with some unnamed urgency, he pulled them out and climbed weakly from the bed. At first his legs wouldn't support him and he crumpled to the ground. Determination had, however, always been one of his strongest qualities. He stood and hobbled to her bed. "Sakura?" Still she remained motionless. He shook her gently. "Sakura, wake up. You promised. Wake up!" Lifting his gaze, the beeping machine caught his eye. Realization flowed like shock through him. Terrified, he pushed in intercom button on her bed.
"Hello? Hello, this is Matt…Matt…oh, I don't know! But I'm in room 210 and…and Sakura…she's…could you send someone over here, please? Right now?"
No one answered, but two doctors and a nurse were soon in the room. They worked quickly and efficiently on her for fifteen minutes. At that point one of the doctors pulled out a clipboard.
"Call it," he said sadly to the other doctor.
"4:01 PM. I hate loosing them so young. She's a pretty little thing, too."
The first doctor shook his head mournfully. "Time of death: 4:01 PM. Who's going to let her parents know?"
"I will. I worked with the little cherry blossom a few days ago. She was so happy! I can't believe it…"
"Doctors, quick!" Surprised, the pair turned to find a nurse holding the other temporarily forgotten occupant of the room in her arms. Even though he had passed out, a tear of loss and sorrow slipped down his cheek.
Time shifted. Place changed. It was night and the Digidestined were in a dark area outside the hospital. Matt knelt on wet grass, tears slipping slowly down his grief-stricken face.
"Hello," he murmured, though he was alone. "I'm not sure you remember me, but I actually remember you quite well. My full name's Yamato Ishida, but I've been called Matt since I was two. I used to live in the city with my brother and a very special group of friends, but I fell upon bad times with my dad and we moved way out into the country. I have a brother, did I tell you? He looks a lot like me, only smaller, and he's always smiling. He was the Chosen Child of Hope, but that's another story. My dad moved me even further out into the country a long time ago and got me some horses. My favorite is Stargrazer because she's very fast, but I hear she's due to have a colt with my second favorite horse, Clover. I already know what I'm going to name her. Anyway, I…I…I'm very glad…to meet you." Matt voice broke and he leaned forward, resting his head on a large stone before him. "I'm honored to know you." His sorrow and loss, mixed with his still active illness, ate his energy until he could barely speak. He forced out one last sentence that was the total sum of his misery. "I loved you so much, Sakura."
It was Mr. Ishida who found Matt some time later, collapsed on the wet grass in the gentle, sorrowful rain, curled up against Sakura's headstone. He carefully scooped his boy into his arms and turned back towards the car. Matt shouldn't be in wet weather of any kind, the doctors said, for a very, very long time. Mr. Ishida laid the unconscious boy in the front seat of his car and reclined it. With one last glace at his son he drove back to the hospital. Matt's face was wet, covered with tears and raindrops. Though which was which no one could tell. A tear dripped onto the seat cushion.
As the scene dissolved back into a large, dark chamber, the Digidestined stood motionless, frozen with astonishment at what they had witnessed. T.K. was the first to regain motor functions. Numb with shock, the boy turned to stare at his brother. Matt was in worse shape then any of them had thought. He had, at some point, dropped to his knees, where he remained to this moment. Kneeling on the ground, head bowed slightly, his eyes were wide and unseeing.
Anamnemon tsked lightly. "Wow. Isn't that sad?" No one could answer. Since their arrival in the Digital World, every single one of them had wanted to know what Matt's problem was and how they could help. Now they knew, and they almost wished they didn't. Seeing what he had gone through, experiencing what he held as precious memories, revealed another layer of his personality, making him more than a convenient enigma to be solved and understood. He was now beyond any help they believed themselves capable of offering. What did one say to a boy who had, at some point or another, lost everything he held dear?
Anamnemon frowned slightly. "Hey, Yamato. Aren't you listening to me?" Slowly he turned his sorrowful, shocked eyes on her. She grinned. "Still hurting, aren't you?" He couldn't move to nod. Everything hurt too much to move. The Digimon of Oblivion sighed. "Well, I can understand that. She was very pretty, though."
Matt opened his mouth to speak, but no sound emerged. He swallowed and tried again. "It's my fault."
Anamnemon nodded, but T.K. broke in before she could say anything. "What's your fault?"
Matt stared at him. "Weren't you watching?" he whispered.
T.K. nodded. "We all were."
"Then you know. It's my fault. I didn't want it to be…sometimes I dreamed it wasn't, but it was."
"What was?"
"S-Saku…" He couldn't even say the name. "Her…death. It's my fault."
"What?"
"It's my fault that Sa- that she died."
"No it isn't!" T.K. cried, recognizing the dead look in his brother's eyes. "There was nothing you could have done!"
"Not true!" Anamnemon chirped. "There's lots he could have done. He could have listened to her and talked to his father, he could have been stronger and refused the sleeping drugs, he could have just gotten it over with and died when he fell off that cliff. Right, Yamato?"
The broken child of Destiny nodded miserably. "I…I could have just listened to her. She didn't want me to go out in the rain…when I did, she warned me to keep warm…when I didn't, she told me to go to my dad and tell him I was sick. I didn't. I was stupid. And now she's dead. It's all my fault."
Various protests and refutations to those statements rose from the throats of the Digidestined, but Anamnemon cut them off. "Yamato, it's your fault." He stared at her. "It's your fault she died. It's your fault she's gone. Imagine what she could have been, what she could have done. Now, because of you, she's dead. No one will ever see her again, Yamato. And it's your fault. No one will ever know her, and it's your fault. Her parents are lost and lonely without her, and it's your fault. If you had never been born, she would still be alive. The doctors could have paid attention to her, and she'd be alive. It's your fault, Yamato. It's all your fault." He chocked back a dry sob. "Do you accept it?" Miserably, filled with self-loathing and despair, he nodded. "Do you accept it?"
"Yes," he whispered, barely audible. "Yes, I accept it. If not for me…if not for me, she'd be alive. It's all my fault."
"No!" The cry had torn itself from the throat of every Digidestined present.
Matt stared at Anamnemon as though he hadn't heard them.
The Digimon smirked. "He's in my illusion now," she explained, maintaining eye contact with her prey. "He's almost exactly where I want him. Soon, very soon, he'll beg to die. And with his death, I will have the fuel I need to destroy the rest of you." She giggled cruelly. "Watch, he's almost there!" The Digimon regained her poise and addressed Matt again. "Where is she?"
"Dead," he whispered, miserable. "Gone, forever and ever. Dead."
"Why?"
"B-because…"
"Why?"
"Because I killed her!"
Anamnemon smiled. "Did you?"
"Yes," he whispered. "Yes."
"You've blood on your hands, Yamato. The blood of a Digimon, the blood of a girl. What will you do?"
"I…I…don't know…"
"How will you live with yourself? You're as good as a murderer. You've robbed the world of a beautiful life, filled with grace and kindness. You did that. It's all your fault. Do I tell you lies?"
"No…no, you speak the truth."
"She loved you more than anything in the world, and you used that love to kill her. What can you do to atone?"
He stared up at her. "Atone?"
She nodded solemnly. "You owe it to her family, friends, and future to atone for the evil you have done. What will you do?"
He spread his hands, helpless. "What can I do?"
A triumphant smile played across her lips. "Look. Your right hand holds the answer."
Perplexed, the boy shifted his gaze to his unbroken hand…and discovered that it held a dagger. He looked startled. "You…you want me to…but-"
"Are you afraid?"
A misguided fire sparked in his eyes. "No. I am not afraid to die. She wasn't."
"Is she not worth this atonement?"
He stared. "What?"
"She is dead; you can never be with her as long as you live. If, however, you die, too…"
The pieces fell in place. He looked at the dagger with something like awe and readjusted his grip on it. A life for a life.
"Through your heart," Anamnemon murmured with unholy merriment. "Through your heart with the Digidestined watching, so they feel your still warm blood on their souls!"
He lifted the dagger.
A strong hand grabbed the blade and wrenched it out of his grip. Bright red blood ran along the dagger's edge to drop three times on the stone floor.
Surprised, Matt looked up. "Tai?" The leader stood, livid, gripping the blade tightly in his hand. More drops fell to the floor. "What are you-"
"Coward!" Tai cried, cutting him off. Matt winced. "You're a coward!"
Matt's empty, spellbound eyes turned sadly away from his friend. "You don't understand," he murmured. "None of you understand. It's my fault that-"
"If you say just one more time that it's your fault she died, I'm going to beat the living crap out of you!"
Matt stared at him. "But…it is. You saw…you all saw. It's my fault."
"Bull, Matt! You were unconscious. She knew what she was doing."
"But-"
"But nothing! It was a gift to you. She knew she was dying anyway, and that you didn't have to. So she helped you the only way she could. You sit here, wallowing in self-pity, about to throw her last act of love away like it's yesterday's trash! I didn't knew her, Matt, and I don't know much about your relationship, but I could have sworn she meant more to you than that! To just…just throw it away…throw away her life…"
"But she's dead," Matt cried, lurching to his feet. "She's dead! I can't throw her life away, that's already been done!"
"You're wrong!" All eyes turned to Mimi, who stood, trembling, hands clasped in front of her. Dry tear tracks shimmered on her face. "You're wrong, Matt! She isn't dead! And her life's not gone!"
"But…but…"
"I know this sounds like a bad sap movie, but she's still alive! She's living in you! With every breath you take, with every beat of your heart, she's living! Because without her gift to you, you'd be dead!"
"It's her blood running through your veins," Joe added. "Even though it was never actually in her body, it would have been. It was hers, to keep her alive a little longer, but she gave it to you, willingly and totally."
"They don't know what they're talking about, do they, Yamato?" Anamnemon purred, glaring at the knot of people fighting against her for the life of one boy. "They don't understand the pain…the fear…the loneliness…"
"Maybe not," T.K. agreed firmly, ignoring the Digimon and striding over to his brother to look him dead in the eye. "Maybe we don't understand how it feels, or what it's like. Hopefully we never fully will. But that's not what's important. What's important is the emotion behind what she did, what she offered. That we understand perfectly, even if you don't, Matt."
The older boy shook his head, unable to accept what his brother way saying. "You don't understand."
"No," Tai corrected, tossing the bloody knife away. "It's you who doesn't understand. You've lived all these years without understanding what she did and why."
"Did you ever say thank you, Matt?" He turned to look at the speaker, and Sora smiled kindly back at him.
"What?"
"Did you ever thank her? For her gift of life to you."
"How can I?" he asked dully. "She's dead."
Sora smiled gently. "Oh, Matt. You think you know everything, don't you? But you're so confused, so totally wrong, about such a basic thing. Death isn't an end, it's a beginning. You don't have to see her to know she's there. Did you ever stand under the trees on the days when cherry blossoms are falling and just smile and thank her?" Matt shook his head and Sora smiled again. "Did you ever say goodbye?" Again, no. "Did you ever really let her go? Did you cry for her?" No, no. Never. Not after that night at the cemetery.
"It's time to let her go, Matt." Izzy smiled sorrowfully at his friend when those empty, lost eyes turned on him. "It's time to let her go and move on. She wouldn't want you to live wishing you could die because you miss her."
"But I remember…every day I remember waking up and seeing her dead. Each time I wake up I'm back in the hospital, listening to her still heart, seeing her pale, smiling, beautiful face. I can't just forget that!"
"Exactly," Anamnemon hissed angrily, picking up the dagger Tai had tossed away earlier. She threw it and held it hovering in front of Matt with her power. "The memories tear at your sanity. They make you hurt so badly you feel like you're going to die. Why live with that kind of pain? Escape, Yamato. Escape to a place where you can be with her."
Matt stared at the dagger floating before him, and the Digidestined knew, finally and irreversibly, that this decision was Matt's. But they also knew they could help him.
"Why are you running, Matt?" Joe demanded suddenly. Matt blinked at him.
"Running?"
"From your past, your memories. Why are you running from them?"
"You don't understand," he said desperately, looking away. "None of you understand. You've never been there. You've never seen someone you care about, someone you love, die right before your eyes."
"Ah," Izzy began with a slight smile, "but haven't we?" Matt stared at him. "We were here the entire time, Matt. We witnessed your and Sakura's history, and to some extent we felt what you did. We understand enough to help you. We know enough to be your friends through whatever turmoil you're facing, if you'll let us."
"But…"
"She was very pretty, brother." Matt looked at T.K., who smiled gently, sorrowfully.
"Yes," he admitted, not bothering to fight the tears that welled in his eyes.
"I would have loved to meet her."
"I…I know you would." He looked around the room. "You all would have loved her."
"Do-" T.K. paused, unsure. "Do you think that…you could tell me about her?"
A gentle, sad smile warmed Matt's face. "I'd like that, T.K. If you could ever find enough time to listen to all I could say, I'd like that." A tear slid down Matt's face to drop onto the floor. It was followed, first slowly then with growing speed, by innumerable others. Wearily Matt sunk to the floor again. This time, however, he was not alone. The other Digidestined gathered around him, crying silent tears of compassion, and surrounded him with their unwavering friendship. His voice echoed around the room as Anamnemon's spell was shattered.
"Thank you, Sakura. Thank you for everything. Sleep in peace."
The dagger clattered to the floor.
Anamnemon, Digimon of Oblivion, watched in dumb disbelief as her hard won victim was torn from her clutches by such imaginary things as 'friendship' and 'love'. It was asinine! She screamed as much. The Digidestined, all save two, had the gall to ignore her. They merely remained where they were, clustered around the brat that got away. No matter. She'd have them all in her clutches soon enough. The two who had risen turned to her. She blinked.
"Knowledge and Reliability? What are you doing?"
"You threatened our companion," Knowledge answered flatly. "Your mere presence is a continuous threat to our well being."
"We cannot allow that threat to remain," Reliability added easily. "We will defend ourselves. It is time to end this."
Anamnemon laughed. "You? You think you can stand against the Mistress of Oblivion? Is this some kind of cosmic joke? It's ridiculous! What can you possibly do to me?" She recognized the error of her words almost the instant they left her mouth. A lesson she had learned long ago popped to the front of her mind: never ever issue any form of a challenge to an opponent when that opponent is mad or dead serious. Bright signs flashed from beneath the boys' shirts. The signs stilled for a moment. Then, suddenly, they burned again, powerful and undeniable, on the boys' foreheads. Knowledge and Reliability reborn. Anamnemon swallowed as the two began approaching her. Shaking her head, she scowled and stood her ground.
"You're children!" she cried. "You can't beat me! I'm the Mistress of Oblivion!"
"Do you even have the slightest clue what that word means?" Knowledge asked calmly, standing resolutely before her. Reliability stood by Knowledge's side, impassive and powerful. Anamnemon swallowed again and threw a spell at them, hoping to catch them in a memory-dream warp. The spell failed completely.
"Oblivion is less even than death," Knowledge informed her blandly. His eyes were blank and impassive, looking at her only because she was a threat. Anamnemon felt, just for a second, that she knew who and what he was, even more so than he did, but it passed fleetingly. "It is the lack of basic things. Because it is not the specific lack of any one thing, it falls under many categories. You are the oblivion of memory, which leads me to the conclusion that your original form must have been Memory."
She bristled at the sound of that word. "I'll kill you for saying it!"
"I don't think so."
She turned her head sharply to glare at Reliability. "Oh? And what are you going to do?"
He shrugged, and again Anamnemon got a flash of nostalgia. It, too, soon passed. "I will stand and fight you."
"Wow, tough guy. Any particular reason you feel like kicking my Digital butt straight to hell?"
"I will not kill you."
She blinked. "Oh?"
"No. I will stand and fight you because it is what is needed, demanded, and expected of me, but your death is not necessary."
"So you're going to let me go?"
"No."
"…"
"Anamnemon." She flinched and turned to look at Knowledge. "Do you remember what you were?"
She threw her shoulders back defiantly and shook her head. "And I'm glad, because it couldn't have been good!"
"Do you remember what you did?"
"No!"
"You were the Basic Digimon of Memory. You lived for nothing save easing the pain of sorrowful remembrances and enhancing the joy of beautiful dreams. The past was your home. You knew more about every Digimon than they knew about themselves. You held all of their secrets in your hand and watched, as in a movie, their past lives unfold before you again and again. Do you not remember that?"
Anamnemon trembled as pale memories floated around her. "I…I do."
"And do you not also remember," Reliability continued in his even, mature voice, "when the Evil tricked and betrayed you? Stealing your memories and robbing you of your joy?"
"I do."
The two Digidestined wove Anamnemon's own true power in a spell around her. "Do you not miss it?"
The Digimon sighed blissfully, feeling the caress of a sweet memory play against her skin. "I do."
They spoke in perfect unity. "Accept, unwavering, your destiny."
"I will."
They reached out and touched her, each placing a hand on one of her shoulders. Their power coursed through her. The room was filled with power, bright and immeasurable.
"Where…who am I?"
Knowledge answered. "You are Anamnemon, Basic Digimon of Memory."
"What is a memory?"
"A gift," Reliability stated, calm and certain, "to keep lost friends close. A gift to be accepted."
"A gift to be embraced," added Knowledge.
Anamnemon, a mere shadow of off-colored light, trembled. "It…it is not enough. Your power…your memories…they're not enough. I can't…remember what I was before. I don't understand."
A third voice rose to complete the spell woven by Knowledge and Reliability. "Memories are a gift," Sincerity whispered, resting a cool hand on Anamnemon's forehead. Her sign was radiant on her forehead as her power raced to join with the others. "A gift to be shared."
Anamnemon was awed. "What are you?"
"I am Knowledge."
"I am Reliability."
"I am Sincerity.
"What…what are those?"
"Knowledge is Memory of existence."
"Reliability is the Memory of integrity."
"Sincerity is the Memory of truth."
Three voices combined to issue Anamnemon a challenge. "Do you accept it?"
The Digimon answered without pause or doubt. "Yes. Forever and ever, yes."
The five remaining Chosen Children watched unblinkingly as light filled the room. The Digimon covered their eyes. When at last they could look, Joe, Izzy, and Mimi all stood smiling happily, once again only themselves. The power that had poured through and from them had gone, leaving them drained but oddly fulfilled.
"It is our honor and privilege," Mimi began wearily but smiling, "to present to you the newly rediscovered Anamnemon, Lady of Memory."
The Basic Digimon peeked out from behind the trio to smile worriedly at the others. Her hair was long, billowing out far behind her in a gentle, rippling white cloud. Her eyes, by contrast, were ebony, framed in a lovely, classic face. The cloths floating lazily about her like a dress matched her hair perfectly. She looked, appropriately, like the teenaged daughter of Father Time. Crinkling her fingers in a wave, she smiled shyly and stepped into full view. "Hi," she murmured. "Sorry about…before." Her voice, like the rest of her, was timeless, and the Digidestined all felt themselves smiling.
Matt rose and rubbed his right forearm over his eyes to clear the tears. Looking up at Anamnemon, he smiled warmly and stuck out his hand. "Hi. I'm Matt. I know your sister, Meloremon. She speaks highly of you. It's nice to meet you, Anamnemon."
Her worry melted away and she gently accepted his hand. "Thank you," she murmured, looking down.
He rubbed his broken arm, smiling gently and shaking his head. "It's me who should be thanking you. I learned so much…and not just about myself." Looking back at her, he tilted his head slightly. "Oh, by the way…do you have any pillows or blankets?"
She blinked. "I don't know. I never really had reason to check. Probably. Why?"
Smiling, he turned and pointed at the trio of Digidestined that had brought her back to herself. At that exact moment, their knees buckled and they crumpled to the ground in an undignified heap. T.K., Kari, Tai, and Sora all gasped and dashed over to them.
Matt just smiled and shook his head. "So…got any pillows?"
Anamnemon smiled.
AN: K. If it isn't good, don't say it. Otherwise, review! I hope you enjoyed this un-birthday present, because it's almost one o'clock in the morning and I would feel REALLY DUMB if I went to ALL THIS TROUBLE and no one even cared. ^_^;; So review and may the Dole Plantation Pineapples always smile upon your fortune. O_o I think I should get some sleep now. Night!
I remain
As always
With pineapples and hibiscus
-Angel Baby (May the Big Island's chickens be sent to KFC and long live the Nene goose!)
…I'm going to bed now.