Well here I go, off on another spiel again. And you're all invited for the ride!!! Whatever. This fic uses their real names. And Takeru's about 15 in the story.
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Takeru carefully picked his way through a maze of beer bottles and patches of old vomit. The room smelled so foul it made his head spin. Quietly tip-toeing past a form sprawled on the couch; he asked himself how it had gotten this bad. Yamato had gone away to college this year. His mother, Netsuko Takaishi, had been offered an international job covering the recent events in the Middle East. Knowing that it wouldn't be fair to drag Takeru into a dangerous situation, she had him stay with her ex-husband, Mr. Ishida. Mr. Ishida was having a tough time at work. Lately he had taken to drowning his sorrows in a bottle and blaming his problems on Takeru. At 15, Takeru was at an interesting state of life. He was getting decent grades and was captain of the JV basketball team. Hikari and Daisuke were currently going out, which didn't faze Takeru at all He was Hikari's best friend. He had long since abandoned his old wardrobe, opting for darker colors than the bright ones of his youth. His favorite outfit was his ratty blue sweatshirt and beige corduroys, both passed down from Yamato. He had replaced his fisherman hat with an old navy baseball hat turned backwards, this was the gift his father had given him at his thirteenth birthday, saying that he had worn it 'as a kid'.
Wearing this, he slunk towards the kitchen hoping not to awaken his sleeping father. Throwing a Pop-Tart into the toaster, he glanced out the window to see if the bus had come yet. It was Friday, thank god. On Fridays, their school had recently allowed casual clothes. He munched on his Pop-Tart he checked the window again. Unfortunately for him, he saw the yellow bus pull away from the stop. Groaning, he ran into his room and grabbed his skateboard. He slammed his door out of habit and realized his mistake. A drunken curse followed by mumbling came out of the other room. Takeru ran towards the door, hoping to get out of the house before a confrontation. Luck wasn't with him, he ran right into an irrationally angry Mr. Ishida. Glaring at the teenager, he raised his hand and struck him hard in the face.
"What have I told you about waking me up?"
The color had drained out of Takeru's face when Mr. Ishida had yelled. As he backed up, he stammered an apology.
"I-I'm sorry Dad. I, the bus, it-"
Mr Ishida sneered and mocked him
"I-I-I, Takeru, you're pathetic.
Mr. Ishida pushed Takeru into the wall and punched him in the face.
"Dad, I have to go to school. I'll be late again."
Takeru's dad kneed him in the stomach,
"That's your fault now, isn't it?" It's not like you try anymore, is it?"
Slamming Takeru into the wall again, he repeated his question,
"Is it you jerk?"
Takeru avoided his father's eyes,
"No."
Suddenly Mr. Ishida's mood changed again,
"That's what I thought T.K. Now go get cleaned up and ready for school."
Ruffling Takeru's hair, he went away happy. Takeru tasted blood on his lips. Damn. He went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. Ignoring his lip's stinging protest, he saw a large bruise forming over his right eye and cheekbone. He sighed and made his way to the door with his skateboard. He would be late for school again. That would be the second time this week. Damn.
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Well, that's the first chapter, if you like it, review. Now you can't say I'm being mean cuz I've never said in summaries OR in stories to review before.
I don't own Digimon OR Pop-Tart. Toei Animation and Kellog does. Sigh.
Ja ne and hail to the rebellion.
Arynnl
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Takeru carefully picked his way through a maze of beer bottles and patches of old vomit. The room smelled so foul it made his head spin. Quietly tip-toeing past a form sprawled on the couch; he asked himself how it had gotten this bad. Yamato had gone away to college this year. His mother, Netsuko Takaishi, had been offered an international job covering the recent events in the Middle East. Knowing that it wouldn't be fair to drag Takeru into a dangerous situation, she had him stay with her ex-husband, Mr. Ishida. Mr. Ishida was having a tough time at work. Lately he had taken to drowning his sorrows in a bottle and blaming his problems on Takeru. At 15, Takeru was at an interesting state of life. He was getting decent grades and was captain of the JV basketball team. Hikari and Daisuke were currently going out, which didn't faze Takeru at all He was Hikari's best friend. He had long since abandoned his old wardrobe, opting for darker colors than the bright ones of his youth. His favorite outfit was his ratty blue sweatshirt and beige corduroys, both passed down from Yamato. He had replaced his fisherman hat with an old navy baseball hat turned backwards, this was the gift his father had given him at his thirteenth birthday, saying that he had worn it 'as a kid'.
Wearing this, he slunk towards the kitchen hoping not to awaken his sleeping father. Throwing a Pop-Tart into the toaster, he glanced out the window to see if the bus had come yet. It was Friday, thank god. On Fridays, their school had recently allowed casual clothes. He munched on his Pop-Tart he checked the window again. Unfortunately for him, he saw the yellow bus pull away from the stop. Groaning, he ran into his room and grabbed his skateboard. He slammed his door out of habit and realized his mistake. A drunken curse followed by mumbling came out of the other room. Takeru ran towards the door, hoping to get out of the house before a confrontation. Luck wasn't with him, he ran right into an irrationally angry Mr. Ishida. Glaring at the teenager, he raised his hand and struck him hard in the face.
"What have I told you about waking me up?"
The color had drained out of Takeru's face when Mr. Ishida had yelled. As he backed up, he stammered an apology.
"I-I'm sorry Dad. I, the bus, it-"
Mr Ishida sneered and mocked him
"I-I-I, Takeru, you're pathetic.
Mr. Ishida pushed Takeru into the wall and punched him in the face.
"Dad, I have to go to school. I'll be late again."
Takeru's dad kneed him in the stomach,
"That's your fault now, isn't it?" It's not like you try anymore, is it?"
Slamming Takeru into the wall again, he repeated his question,
"Is it you jerk?"
Takeru avoided his father's eyes,
"No."
Suddenly Mr. Ishida's mood changed again,
"That's what I thought T.K. Now go get cleaned up and ready for school."
Ruffling Takeru's hair, he went away happy. Takeru tasted blood on his lips. Damn. He went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. Ignoring his lip's stinging protest, he saw a large bruise forming over his right eye and cheekbone. He sighed and made his way to the door with his skateboard. He would be late for school again. That would be the second time this week. Damn.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Well, that's the first chapter, if you like it, review. Now you can't say I'm being mean cuz I've never said in summaries OR in stories to review before.
I don't own Digimon OR Pop-Tart. Toei Animation and Kellog does. Sigh.
Ja ne and hail to the rebellion.
Arynnl