Hero Worship

Part Seven

+ Natsu +

A/N: I can't apologise enough for the hugely long delay for this chapter. But I've just been completely and utterly uninspired to write this fic lately. I've lost my grasp on the character of Daisuke and whenever I sit down and try to write, I can't think of anything to say. Blergh. Anyway...here it is. And hopefully, it should only take one, maybe two more chapters to finish the job. Although how long it will take me to finish those one or two chapters, I don't know. Hopefully, the next chapter should be finished within a few weeks, as I know exactly what I want to happen and how it's going to happen. And I'm really feeling like I want to finish this, so I'm going to make a big effort. However my efforts may be hampered by the fact that I am currently living in Japan for six months and finding the time to write is a bit of a challenge.

As a side note, I'm just becoming aware how many of my stories encourage the terrible abuse of alcohol. What can I say? I'm an eighteen-year-old student who grew up in small-town England. The only thing to do in small-town England is to go to pubs and house parties and get fantastically drunk. But for the record, it's a VERY BAD THING that you shouldn't do. Yes.

This is for my faithful reviewers who I love very very much and feel horribly guilty about keeping waiting. And especially for babydragon who always reviews, and who I just think is lovely, for Jheya because she's my friend and for my sister, who has bullied me to keep writing this.

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"I feel like doing something drastic," Yamato said, for no apparent reason, as we were walking to school the next morning.

"You want to what?" I replied groggily. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not much of a morning person.

"Do something drastic," Yamato repeated.

"Drastic how?" I asked warily. "Like, throw yourself off a cliff drastic or…wear a new colour shirt drastic?"

Yamato raised an eyebrow at me. "That's not drastic."

"Well it might be if it was like…a really bright new colour or something. I don't know. It's too early for thinking of things."

"Yeah, so school is just the right place for you then, huh?"

"Shut up. Drastic how?"

"I'm not really sure. I'm just…bored, I guess. Same old routine, you know?"

"Um…yeah," I replied vaguely. For me, it was really still a pretty new routine. "So…what are you going to do? Dye your hair? Go…purple?" I grinned, and Yamato snorted.

"What is this colour thing you have suddenly? Is there some terrible problem with my perception of colour that you never told me about? Dai, how could you?"

I shrugged. "Didn't want to hurt your feelings. You know how it is."

"Mm. Seriously though, don't you feel kind of bored by…everything? Kind of…restless?" Yamato asked, looking at me as he walked.

"Well…I don't know. Maybe a little…but…I don't know." Honestly, I didn't really know what to say. It's hard to be bored with something that you've only just started to experience. The conversation pretty much grinded to a halt after that.

"Oh." Yamato said, and I felt bad for not being able to give him the answer he wanted. But I learned a long time ago that if you don't understand something, pretending you do doesn't get you anywhere. You only get caught out and even more confused and end up being embarrassed horribly. So what was I supposed to do? We walked in silence for a minute or so before I began to feel uncomfortable and decided to use my amazing conversational skills to fill up the empty space.

"So what do you have first thing today?"

"Music," Yamato said instantly, obviously more than happy to change the subject. "Thank God," he added, "if we have one more Maths class first thing in the morning..."

"Yeah. I think I have sociology..."

Our discussion proceeded civilly from there until the school swept into view from amongst the uniform buildings lining the streets. And with it swept Tai, who was standing at the gates as we approached.

"Hey!" he called, waving, just in case we had somehow not noticed him. Which you wouldn't think possible, except I had actually managed to not notice him since I was at the time staring upwards at an interesting shaped cloud. Try it some time, it's a lot of fun.

"Hello," Yamato returned. He didn't stop sharply but I almost walked into him anyway, since my eyes were still glued skywards. Taichi's grin widened.

"Hey," he said again, staring at Yamato in a shamelessly obvious way.

"Yes. Hey. Did you want something?" Yamato replied and I felt a laugh bubble up inside me, which I quickly squashed before it could leap out and embarrass me. I've a lot of practice at that. I often find things funny that most people wouldn't. I like to think of it as just another of my loveable quirks.

"Yeah," Taichi replied, shifting the weight of his bag on his shoulder, but still managing to look composed, "I just wanted to remind you about Miyako's party tonight. You still coming?"

"That's tonight?" I asked incredulously, having completely forgotten about it. "Man, time sure flies, doesn't it?"

Unfortunately nobody seemed to hear me since Yamato had spoken at the same time.

"Of course we're coming. We said we would, didn't we?"

"Great. Just checking. See you there then!" Tai gave a careless wave as he turned and jogged off towards the school.

"Does he always run everywhere?" Yamato asked, without looking at me.

"Dunno. I guess," was the eloquent response that escaped my lips. 

* * * * *

We said we were coming and coming we were. We were late, but fashionably so, as Yamato assured me. The weather was unseasonably hot and muggy for April and the air was heavy around us. Thick clouds hung suffocatingly low and the visible patches of sky were an ominous yellowish colour that warned of a coming storm. It looked to me like the kind of evening that you wouldn't want to remain outside in for too long unless the idea of getting soaked and probably struck by lightning really appealed. Everything was a little too still and a little too quiet, something that I was made more aware of by the fact that Yamato and I walked in silence. I hadn't seen much of him during the morning, but he'd been acting kind of weird from lunchtime onwards. Tonight, as he marched determinedly beside me, he seemed to fit in pretty well with the sullen, brooding storm clouds and the breathy, spiteful breeze, which was restraining itself until it could explode in full force later. He was wearing jeans and a white shirt, open at the throat and cuffs. I spent part of the walk to Miyako's considering whether he spent ages carefully choosing something to wear that would make him look so effortlessly perfect or whether he just grabbed something from his wardrobe like I do and the whole perfection thing just happened by accident. Pretty nifty accident if that was the case. The only accidents that ever happened to me in the clothing department were things like spilling cereal down myself. As I have previously demonstrated.

We turned off the street together and climbed the steps up to Miyako's apartment wordlessly. On the doormat, Yamato ran a precautionary hand through his hair and rang the bell.

"Well, here we go then," he said cryptically as our eyes met for the first time since leaving his apartment. The door was thrown open almost immediately by our beaming hostess who ushered us inside.

"Glad you could make it!" Miyako said, after greeting me, and a Yamato who was now all smiles. "Come through, there's drinks and stuff in the kitchen." We were ushered some more, this time into the kitchen, where one of Miyako's older sisters was ready with more welcomes. I forget her name, but I know she's in the same year at school as Taichi and Yamato. She's Sora's friend and they hang out a lot so she's one of the few people (who haven't fought monsters and saved the world, that is) who know about Taichi and Yamato's couple status. Which was a good thing to know. Hopefully I wouldn't have to worry about getting shoved off any benches tonight.

"I'm playing barmaid," she explained, gesturing to the assorted glasses and bottles that littered the worktops, "I'm supposed to be making sure the younger ones don't get too much to drink."

"Very responsible of you," Yamato said with a smile. 

"Yes, I thought so," she grinned back. "So I guess I'm safe to assume that you guys are going to help me dispose of some of this stuff before any young'uns get their hands on it?"

"I reckon we could manage that, right baby?" I replied, turning to Yamato and trying out a new pet name while I was at it.

"Dai, don't call me that," he said, wrinkling his nose slightly.

"Why?"

"Because it's sappy, that's why. What are these?" Yamato asked Miyako's sister, gesturing to a collection of stumpy little shot glasses jumbled together on a tray.

"Shots," she replied shortly.

"Of?"

"Of...things. I can't remember. They are assorted shots. There's some Tequila, some vodka, some...whatever this stuff was..." she held up a suspicious-looking bottle and peered at the label, "I think the green ones are this stuff. I wouldn't drink those if I were you. But take your pick from the others." She offered the tray to Yamato who took one and promptly tossed it back.

"Whoo! Yeah, that's what we like to see," Miyako's sister crowed, beaming.

I automatically touched Yamato's arm as he reached for a second shot glass. "Hey, I don't want to have to carry you home," I warned, thinking how not fun it would be trying to handle Yamato when he was drunk, considering how high-maintenance he seemed to be even when completely sober.

"I'm not asking you to," Yamato replied calmly and swallowed the contents of the glass briskly, pulling a face as he handed the glass back and started in the direction of the lounge.

"And what can I get you? You want a shot too, Dai?" Miyako's sister prompted me seeing as I had yet to ask for anything. I'm not much of a drinker, mostly because getting your hands on alcohol when you're underage and of my height is pretty impossible, but I've tried it enough times to know that spirits really aren't my thing. They just make my eyes water and my face screw up. Not pretty.

"I'll just have a beer," I said and, having been handed one, followed after Yamato.

The first thing I heard as I stepped into the room was Tai's voice.

"You sure took your time!" he cried, more loudly than necessary to be heard over the music.

"And?" asked Yamato as he took a seat near Tai on the sofa. I followed suit, sitting on the sofa and smiling at Ken, who was perched on a footstool in front of me.

"And we've been sitting here waiting for you. Right Ken?"

"Mm-hm," was Ken's response.

I was about to make an amusing comment about Ken's lack of enthusiasm when Takeru decided to grace us with his presence. Which is probably a good thing really because in hindsight Ken might not have found my amusing comment all that amusing.

"Hey!" Takeru blurted happily. He saluted us by touching the bottle he held in his hand to blonde hair that was looking messier than usual and winked one unnaturally bright eye. His grin faded slightly as his gaze travelled over us and settled on Yamato, who was looking at him with calmly raised eyebrows. Takeru glanced guiltily at the bottle in his hand. "I'm only having one," he said defiantly.

"Did I say anything disapproving?" Yamato asked.

"No...but you were looking at me. In a disapproving kind of way."

"That sounds like the talk of a guilty conscience to me, TK," Yamato grinned.

Takeru pouted in response, an expression he must have picked up from his older brother. I'd seen that pout on Yamato's face more times than I could count. As if having noticed the similarity himself, Yamato said, "Whatever, TK. Do what you like. You want to be careful though. You don't want to end up turning into me," Yamato smirked, "It isn't a good thing to be."

"Sure it is!" Tai said, leaping into the conversation.

Yamato looked at him then patted his knee condescendingly. "Yeah. Okay."

Takeru opened his mouth, looking prepared to launch into a speech. He only got as far as "I..." before he was cut off by Hikari, who burst unexpectedly from the surrounding party atmosphere and threw herself at him. From what then ensued, the two had obviously finally taken that last step and made their couple status official.

"Looks like he's turning into you already," remarked Jyou, who had been standing nearby, listening to the conversation at a safe distance.

"Yeah," Yamato winced slightly and leaned towards me. "I apologise in advance for anything untoward my brother does to your sister," he said.

"I'd be more worried about what she might do to him, if I were you," I returned, glancing at Takeru in amusement. He was struggling valiantly to return Hikari's uncharacteristically ferocious advances without falling over and/or spilling his beer. Yamato grinned warmly at me. It was the kind of smile that you can't help but return.

The mood Hikari and Takeru were setting pretty much became the mood for the entire party. Amid the flowing alcohol and the pulsing music, the night seemed to grow increasingly wilder, louder and more frantic. To my immense relief, Yamato had stopped drinking pretty early, with the precision of someone whose limits have been tried and tested many times before. Taichi stopped drinking when Yamato did and I didn't have any more after my first. Hikari and Takeru, on the other hand, had been devising increasingly inventive ways of conning Miyako's sister into giving them more drink and were currently bullying other unsuspecting guests into playing Twister with them, which they would then proceed to rig so that people ended up in the most compromising positions possible. Jyou, who was driving and utterly sober was distributing strategically placed glasses of water around the house on any available surface in the hopes that people would drink them by mistake and thus re-hydrate themselves and sober up. So far the plan hadn't been successful. Largely because Miyako and Koushiro had joined forces against him and were spiking every glass of water they came across with lashings of whatever spirits they could lay their hands on.

Taichi and Yamato were both sat on the floor, engaged in a playful argument which had been triggered by a round of Takeru and Hikari's patented Twister. Next to me on the sofa Ken sat watching them, his cheeks flushed, drink in hand. I don't think he can have had more than two drinks but he was still managing to look kind of glazed and merry. My best friend, ladies and gentlemen, lightweight extraordinaire. All of Ken's hazy attention was directed at the couple on the floor, which meant I was free to look at him without having to worry about him running screaming. Definitely a bonus. And the more I looked, the more I noticed that Ken was looking particularly picturesque that night.

I'll be the first to admit that Ken is attractive. I'm allowed to say it because he's my best friend and it's my privilege to sing his praises. But he's the kind of attractive that people don't always notice instantly. He's not classically handsome, like Taichi or glaringly sexy, like Yamato but he definitely makes you look twice. And once you start looking, you can't seem to stop. His face is all sculpted angles and fascinating curves and tonight it was in a rare state of relaxation. There were no thoughtful furrows between his eyebrows, no calculating frown twitching down the corners of his mouth. Instead there was just a blank canvas of a face, devoid of the usual sketch lines of expression.

My fingers itched for something to draw with, pencil, charcoal, ballpoint. I could see the clean page in my mind's eye; feel the creative static pulling the tip of my pencil to its surface. Start with the slope of the brow, trailing down in a sweeping stroke to form the bridge of the nose. Then, tracing the delicate curve of slightly parted lips, the precise flick of eyelashes. And finally, shading ever so carefully, each stroke barely brushing the page, to build up just enough depth to capture the glazed look in the velvety irises.

Had I actually been drawing, my sketch would have been half finished by the time I properly registered that Ken was looking back at me.

Oops. Busted.

I grinned charmingly, step one of my standard plan of attack when caught doing something I shouldn't be. Ken frowned, blinked at me and brushed the side of his hand self-consciously across one cheek.

"Do I have something on my face?" he asked.

"No," I said, around my grin.

"Then why are you looking at me like that? What's wrong?" Another self-conscious hand, this time passing haltingly through his hair.

"Nothing's wrong. I was just thinking. I can do that too, you know."

A withering look. "I know. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that you're really…" I groped for a suitable word.

"Really what?" His words were far too quick and his voice contained too much offended suspicion for him to be as intoxicated as I'd first thought.

"Really…drawable." Ken raised one eyebrow, somewhere between confused and scornful.

"Really…what? Drawable? That isn't a word."

"It is so."

"No it isn't. Show me it in a dictionary."

"Well it won't be in a dictionary, no."

"Then it isn't a word."

"Sure it is. I just made it up. It's my word." Ken's mouth quirked upwards into a smile.

"Oh. Well in that case…" Ken trailed off and I couldn't help but grin over my small victory. We sat together without speaking for a few minutes and to my surprise, Ken was the one to break the silence first. And when he spoke, the frown lines were back in place and his voice was unusually bitter.

"Look at him," he said.

"Look at who?" When Ken didn't answer, I followed his gaze and realised he was watching Tai again. "Tai? What about him?" He was still sitting on the floor with Yamato, where they were engaged in the tail end of their argument, batting insults back and forth to one another.

"Does he have to be so obvious about it?"

"About what?" I said, feeling my face arranging itself into Confused Daisuke Look (number 11). Ken turned his gaze briefly in my direction.

"You do know he has the hots for Yamato, right?"

"Of course," I replied and then grinned. "Yeah, you're right. He is pretty obvious about that."

Ken glanced back in the direction of the pair on the floor and then looked hard at me.

"Doesn't it bother you?" he asked.

"No. Why should it? It's only a crush. I'm sure it'll wear off eventually." At least that's what I always believed about how I used to feel for Yamato. Yeah, I liked him, but it wasn't as if I could realistically see myself remaining devoted to him for the rest of my days. Far from it.

"Yeah. I guess you're right," Ken said in a way that told me he actually thought completely the opposite. Before I could say anything else, he was standing up. "I think I'll go see what's going on in the kitchen," he informed me and moved away without another glance.

I'd only just begun to be confused by Ken's hasty departure when I was distracted by Takeru, who climbed over the back of the couch and plopped down heavily into the seat Ken had just vacated. He was looking distinctly less sober than when I had seen him last.

"Alright?" I enquired, trying not to laugh at the way he was swaying slightly even while sitting down. Waking up tomorrow morning was sure going to be a fun experience for him. He ignored my question and said instead,

"Poor Ken."

I had to try even harder not to laugh. He couldn't even talk without slurring his words. "What?"

Takeru waved a hand haphazardly in the direction of Tai and Yamato and looked at me pointedly. "Tai doesn't have a clue."

"What are you talking about, you drunk idiot?" I asked calmly. It makes you feel so superior to talk to a drunk person while you're still sober. Plus you can insult them as much as you like and they tend not to notice. It's great fun.

Takeru sighed dramatically. "Tai has no idea how Ken feels about him."

"What do you mean?"

Another sigh from Takeru, this one possibly even more melodramatic. "How the hell my brother puts up with you all the time, I don't know," he said. I was about to reply with a scathing comment (as soon as I'd managed to come up with one, that is), but Takeru barrelled on, this time speaking very slowly and clearly as if talking to a child. Or just to someone very, very dense. "Tai still hasn't figured out that Ken's crazy about him."

I guess I really must be very, very dense.

"Crazy about him...how?"

"In love with him!"

"What? No way." Takeru nodded.

"Yes way. He's completely head over heels. How can you not know? Everyone knows. Except Tai, obviously, and that's the whole problem."

"Oh," was all my brain supplied me with to say.

"Yep," was what Takeru's managed to come up with. And then we sat in silence, or as near to silence as you can get in the middle of a party full of pulsing music and laughing voices.

I think my brain must have been hurtling along faster than it had ever done before. One confused, unresolved thought after another zoomed past amid a multitude of question marks. Takeru and I sat there together, both engaged in our own private battles. His; to balance the cap of his beer bottle on the end of his nose and mine; to pick up all the pieces of my world, which had suddenly just crashed to the ground into a big jumbled pile. Personally I think my challenge was slightly harder, but then I've never tried the bottle cap thing, so I can't say for sure.

And all the while Tai was sitting there on the floor in front of me, and all I could think was 'you bastard'. At the time, I didn't even know why, I just knew that it was the only coherent thought in my head. You bastard, you bastard, you bastard. And all the while, the party raged around us; the abrasive laughter, the menacing rumble of the music, the barking conversation. The whole evening was beginning to make me feel as though I'd stepped into a parallel universe within a parallel universe. The feeling was only enforced by what happened next. Even at the time, it all seemed a little hazy and I've never been entirely sure exactly how it really began, just how it ended.

Yamato was talking to Jyou, who was patrolling the room and promoting his glasses of water to anyone who would listen. Yamato was also determinedly ignoring Taichi, his next offensive step in their argument, and Taichi had been trying desperately to regain his attention for the past five minutes. Then, giving in to Jyou's argument, Yamato turned in search of one of the precious water glasses and, spying one by the fireplace dismissively asked Taichi to pass it to him. I'm sure the whole thing would have been better if I was able to blame what happened on Taichi being drunk, but he wasn't. So it can only be blamed on Taichi being...Taichi.

"Can you catch, Yama?" he asked, grinning wickedly. Yamato had just enough time to voice a confused 'What?' before Taichi promptly hurled the contents of the glass all over him. Dripping wet and spluttering assorted violent curses and insults, Yamato grabbed another water glass from the table beside Takeru and tipped it over Taichi's head. Naturally, a full blown fight ensued. It was nothing I hadn't seen before. I'd watched Taichi and Yamato fight a million times. Their fights could escalate from the tiniest things imaginable and were like summer squalls. They began unexpectedly and while they were ferocious while they lasted, they were over quickly, and dissolved into the brightest, freshest kind of sunshine. But here it felt different, somehow out of place. I can't really explain why. But everything that happened was so fast and furious that I didn't get a chance to work it out.

The odds were uneven because of Yamato's age advantage and the blows were vicious without the safety buffer of the deep, underlying friendship that the other Taichi and Yamato shared. They were struggling against one another bitterly, wrenching, tearing, tugging. Then all of a sudden they stopped as if by mutual agreement. They were pressed close, fingers still clutching at shirts and eyelashes still spiky with water. They were staring at one another so intently you could have thought that their pupils had become fused together by glass rods, like the ones we used sometimes in biology. Or that Yamato used while I watched. And then their lips were touching and it was straight off a movie screen. The room was staring in shock and everything but the music had fallen silent. They didn't seem to notice. I'm sure I must have had my mouth hanging open like an idiot but my mind had abruptly turned to mush. I didn't know what it was that I was supposed to be thinking. I suppose I should have been thinking that it was wrong, that there was no place for this event in the story that I had woven around myself. But I didn't think it. It never even occurred to me at the time, because nobody in their right mind could have looked at them then and there and thought that it was wrong. They fitted together like pieces of a puzzle.

Then just as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. They broke apart with a movement that if it could have been heard would have sounded like shattering. Fingers jerked, eyes widened, breath came in pants and gasps. They were further apart now. Taichi was swallowing hard and Yamato's fingers were running automatically over his hair. And then Yamato was on his feet, was leaving the room and it took me too long to realise that I was supposed to follow him. It took me until after Ken had walked back into the room, smiling and holding a bowl of potato chips. It must have looked strange to him. The stereo was still playing aimlessly, but no one was moving. No one was even talking, everyone was just staring at Tai still kneeling in the middle of the room. Yamato was gone and I was scrambling for the door.

A/N: Nearly there…have a new idea in the works that I REALLY want to start, but I am going to make myself to finish this first. So hopefully that will be enough of an incentive to make me write! Next chapter of this will be out ASAP.