Sugar Sickness

and to the winding vines the pretty boys dive / and thru the pinhole stars into the shadow mind / will you loose him then on some gentle dawn / this boy is here and gone / you love him
(Daphne Descends, The Smashing Pumpkins)

-

How do you know that love is true? It's not always like it is in your mother's paperback novels that would make Kazu piss himself laugher if he knew you read; in fact, those novels are the exception. Love doesn't always come from eyes meeting across a room, or arms winding around a waist to save from a dragon; few people fall in love because of such things. Some may meet in a smoky club somewhere, intoxicated and only out for a night of fun. Some look at each other one day over the desk of an office, or offer their seat on the bus, and some might even meet through text messages gone wrong, or e-mails that were forgotten when meant to be deleted. But some didn't meet in love; they may have met a long, long time before that, being friends and allies for years before the love comes.

Friends being in love with others, comforting each other through wins and losses and girls and sometimes, although not spoken out loud, boys, and friends who without even knowing are changing. But can such a love be true, when you're not even aware of it for real? How can you know that it is love when nobody else is like the two of you, when you have nothing to compare to? And when there is somebody else loving you, adoring you the way you always thought you loved her, and maybe once did as well.

Takato…

How can you know that it isn't her that you truly love? Is it enough to know that her kisses feel like rain on your face, to be endured until she thinks you're happy and the clouds drift away to break way for the sun, and he smiles at you as you meet in the streets still slippery from the spring rain that postponed your meeting. Is it enough to know that you sometimes thinks that she gets too close; that her arms without her knowing are choking you, pulling you down with the sinking stream of time while all you want is to flee to him. He was the one who saved you before when you thought life was drowning you like you always saved him, if he would ask for your help.

You know that you love her, because you always did, but also that it isn't the same, no, not at all. You would surely cry if she left your life, but the emptiness dwells within you as you leave him behind to walk her home. You would much prefer to walk beside him and listen to his Digimon's senseless chatter through the heavily trafficked streets of Shinjuku than have your arm around her while leading her up to her father's door and letting go just soon enough so that nobody will spot you through the windows, and smile as he meets you at the door, pretending that he doesn't know as she hasn't told him. You know that you will smile at her as you leave because you do love her, but also that you will run to catch up with him because you know all sorts of shortcuts that lead you further away from home, but that doesn't matter because he'll insist on walking back with you anyway. You're alone, after all, and he isn't. Terriermon is still there, and yes, Terriermon is good company, and no Terriermon, this isn't some sort of secret date of any sort and no you aren't sweethearts, sometimes good friends will walk each other home out of pure kindness, but he supposes that Terriermon doesn't know what that means anyway? And he didn't make a double statement out of nervousness because Terriermon hit a nerve, it is in the human nature to do things like that. And you can loose track of the conversation, if it can be called such, as you look at the people you walk by and wonder if it you ever have been this happy.

How can you ever let him know, when you don't even know for sure yourself? He can't not know, he is too intent on watching the world to miss such a thing in his own life; you know because he has told you. He dwells on things that were forgotten by all others, actions regretted for years afterwards and always being so painfully aware about how they affected him. He knows, as much as you do, and he knows that you know as well. You don't need to say anything, because that would be awkward – making words out of what exists between the two of you isn't only difficult, it's dangerous. Saying it out loud would mean to acknowledge that it is real, and not some sort of dream living in the air between the two of you when you look at each other. Telling each other means telling the others, telling your parents, telling her, telling the world. And the world isn't the wonderful place it so often seems like around her because she always wanted to believe it to be the best place you could ever be and nobody, not even Rika, can stay unaffected by her. So instead you keep quiet, you pretend that it's a game like when you played house as children and you were always the wife and Kenta always the baby because no girls wanted to play with Kazu who pulled their hair. You pretend that it is nothing more, that you and he aren't doing anything you shouldn't be when you're lying in the grass and smile at each other like you only smiled at Guilmon before, and your hands are touching. Fingertips pressing together in a secret pattern that only the two of you know and eyes looking into each other and knowing that until somebody else comes there is only you and him and the two of you, because no kiss of hers can ever compare to his smiles in moments such as this.

And so your life goes on and time passes, and Terriermon doesn't speak about those times you spend with him, never asks and never teases, because even Terriermon knows the danger of those words. You keep on meeting her every Friday at eight and kiss her when you're stepping away from her, and she blushes prettily although she's not really embarrassed and smiles at you; and you smile back and know that you love this girl so much that you would give everything you have except maybe Guilmon to make sure she is happy. And you keep on running back to where he is waiting for you to walk around with no direction while the backs of your hands touch until it is late and he takes the route by the bakery on his way home so that you won't have to be alone; and you'll sleep at night with the smell of his hair in your nostrils although the clothes carelessly dropped beside your bed are pervaded with her perfume from when you entered her room.

But you never tell; you never say it out loud, never let the others know or even pretend that there is anything different with you when you're with them. Only in the few moments you can be alone do you let it slip, and he will smile at you the way he smiles at you and you only, and life is wonderful like it always is when you're with him. These few moments are the color in your world; they make life a little more worth living and yourself a little more special. Without them, you'd be just Takato, the same boy as you always were, hanging out with the friends you always did, getting the same average grades as when you were younger and not-quite dating the girl you were in love with as a child. But he lifts you up from the dull, brown world that used to be your life and into the sky, pulling you with him up through the feathery white clouds so high that you can drown in sunlight and him. And you love him for this, you know that you do.

But the question you ask yourself remains without an answer, because finding that answer will require you to dig deeper than you want to. Dangerously deep, so deep that it all might collapse above you and trap you within it forever, and maybe so deep that not even he can find you there. And you didn't want to risk it like that, you never did. She asked you if you didn't want to let your parents know. After all, it has been years now, and it's not like they haven't guessed already, really, haven't you seen the way your mother smiles at you whenever she is visiting? And all your friends know; it's only a matter of stating what everybody else knows already. It's been fun to pretend to be shy children, but shouldn't it be time to stop doing that now? So like that, she wants you to make it known to the world, to make it a rule that you'll hold her hand when you walk together like you nearly always did before anyway, and to let your mother start talking about grandchildren and weddings and all those things that are years in the future but something she probably has been dreaming about ever since the first time she saw you blush because of her presence.

And it wouldn't be so hard, would it? Except for him, who also has a life and will want to live as well, to find a girl to hold hands with and let his mother gush over or maybe even a boy because nobody really expects him to marry any girl that you know; and the thought makes your inards hurt. He is yours, that much you know, and you can't bear the thought of somebody, anybody, girl or boy, holding his hand like you do when it is so late that dawn nearly is breaking or kissing him like you did that night you were sleeping in Rika's garden. That night Rika sung about stars and Ryo wept on her shoulder, and they all fell asleep except you and him, who walked to the other side of the house and sat down by the wall, almost falling over while doing so. You sung Rika's song about the stars, and he started pointing to them, telling stories about their names and making you laugh when he did because some of them were so stupid… a lady sitting in an upside-down chair?

Yes, you laughed, but not really for long, and he told you more, and talked so long, even long after you had stopped listening. But he stopped, and it was so late but Rika was alone at home and it wasn't like her mother would have said anything even if she'd been there, you're not kids anymore after all. He said something about going back while his hand was tangled in your hair, but you clung tighter to him and wanted to be like that forever, and your faces were so close and you kissed him.

So this is where you are now, sitting with Guilmon sleeping beside you and wanting for him to come by because things are changing, both with him and with her. You never were that good at being alone, were you Takato? You always depended on your friends to be there for you, be it Kazu or Rika or her or him, always assumed that they will help you any way they can. But nobody can help you with this. Nobody but him and Guilmon and Terriermon knows, and Guilmon can't help, Terriermon won't help, and you can't let him know, because it would destroy it all. You cried in your helplessness last night, and the relief that followed is gone now. You can't solve this problem with crying alone or telling Guilmon to blast it; that's not how it works.

He looks relieved when he finds you, but you can't tell why. The way he smiles seems to indicate that he's been walking around the city searching for you for hours, something you know can't be true; everybody knows that when you're not to be found at home, the first place to look is in the park with Guilmon.

What is wrong?

Nothing, you mutter without looking at him, nothing at all. Yes, you are sure. This doesn't stop you from latching onto him the moment he sits down beside you in an attempt at forgetting those things you know you can't. There is still a comfort in his body, and you know that he doesn't mind that you're taking it now.

Where is Terriermon? At home, sleeping. Suzie made him eat some bread-thing she made and nobody else wanted to try, and he became sick. In a way, you wish he was here – maybe you could have talked to him instead before he managed to run off, and pretended that there was nothing to worry about. That life was just like it used to be before you finally asked her to be yours and realized how much he means to you, back when you only longed and didn't have to be responsible for your feelings. But Terriermon isn't here, and Guilmon is snoring somewhere near you, and you know that he'll ask you what is wrong sooner or later.

Later, you tell him. When the night is turning into morning and the moon is at is highest, you let him know what she wants. You don't tell him about your hesitation or anything that relates to him – he knows that. You only whisper in his ears the simples of ways to tell the story, say that she wants to make it official while you cling tighter to him and wants him to hold you like this forever. You don't want to do that, do you?

No, you agree, you really don't. You're about to ask him for advice when you remember that you can't do that, so instead you wait for him to make his reply, trying to somehow ease the tension you felt growing in his body once you told.

He can't help you. His voice is strangely weakened, and his fingers are touching your hair.

You know. It's just so hard to decide what to do, because she really is the only one, but…

His hand stops, and you stop talking. It's so close, too close. Since you never talked about this, you never made any sort of agreement about what would happen if anything like this would occur. You can stop talking now and go on with your life like nothing ever happened between you and him, but once you say it to him, there's no way back.

He thinks that you shouldn't do anything if you're not entirely sure about it. If you're not sure you… love her, then maybe it would be better to wait? For her sake, if nothing else. So cleverly avoiding his part in this.

But…

You can almost feel his heart beating through the fabric beneath your hand, and feel the skin of his face against your own. Being close to him like this gets too much, and you can't hold it back any longer.

But that's not all, is it?

For a moment you think that his body is collapsing, but you realize that he only relaxed. The hand leaves your hair to pull your closer, and he agrees in a regretful voice.

No, it is not.

And like that, you ruined everything. No, just that you don't want to be serious with her isn't all; he is there, too. It wasn't as bad as you'd thought, in a way it's relieving, and more than that, it makes you feel good. He knew, of course, and you did, too, but when you try to pretend that something isn't there, even though you full well know that it is… but it isn't like that now. You let him know, and he let you know, and you can feel your chest tightening because of it. So different from what it was like before, and so very much more intense and ardent.

But she's still there, and you still love her, too.

You don't say anything more, just stay close to him because you know that after this, you probably won't have the chance again.

When does she want you to tell?

You don't know. Soon. You really don't want to.

Is it… because of him?

And why deny it? It is. You don't want to… yes, it's him.

Do you want to be with her?

You love her! Of course you do!

Why are you hesitating, then?

Yes, why are you afraid of going with her when you love her that much? You can't answer that, but he probably knows, anyway. He's talking to you like a small child, asking you questions you just didn't want to acknowledge the answer to. You don't want to make everything with her real because that would mean letting go of him, but she is the sweet and soft and safe life you always wanted. Maybe he could offer that, too, but it wouldn't be the same, because he can't make other people think what you want them to. Would they hate you for leaving her? Probably not, they'd understand that it wasn't what you wanted except maybe her father. For choosing him? And that is where it is, isn't it? You know that they are your friends. You know that they don't seem to mind, and that at least some of them are mature enough not to hold that against you. Your mother? But she 's not the one that matters here.

What matters is that the thought of a life with her, one day when you're both grown-up living in a small apartment, with two children and Guilmon, and maybe a cat or something, it doesn't work with him. You can't even imagine what sort of life it would be with him, because life isn't meant to be like that. And you're back where you started. You can't know if this sort of love is real when you don't know how it is supposed to be. The only thing you know for sure is that the way you felt about her when you were children is the way you feel about him now. You don't think it's wrong, but you don't know if it's real.

And as such, he did nothing to help you. You're still going to choose between her and him, and now you'll be loosing him for sure if you go with her, because you made those things come true. You said those words that changed it from a mirage to firm substance, and if you turn away from it, you can't go back, and you can't keep telling yourself that mirages are only hot air. He isn't, you aren't, and what happened somewhere between your heart and his is real now. More real than you and her, because you still have the choice of telling her no and plead to still be friends. That's a choice you don't think you can make, because you do love her deeply, as much as you love him, only differently. You don't always want her to touch you, you don't always want her close, but she stays on the ground and doesn't take you flying so that you can fall down. Maybe you would drown in her and loose yourself among all the other normal people, but you don't think you'd be entirely unhappy with doing so.

He has to go. Why? He smiles sadly at you, and says that you'll have to decide for yourself what to do. It's not for him to say anything about your life, after all.

But it is about him, too!

And her? Shouldn't she have anything to say here? Takato, you can't ask him to do this. What he wants really isn't what should concern you know – He'll make it anyhow.

But you… you… and you stop talking before you tell him more of the truth than you already have. He's moving away and making his leave. You really don't want to…

The affectionate smile fades again, and he only stares at you with a raw desperation you never really noticed before. Whatever way the things you've admitted tonight affected you, they affected him as much. It's not like he'll only shrug and go on with his life if you'll choose her, because there are nobody else, neither girls nor boys, and you were so stupid not to realize before.

He knows. But this choice isn't his to make; he knows what he would like, and his hands are so warm around your cold fingers as he takes them. He knows what he would like, but he isn't going to make your decisions. Always so impartial and understanding, and while you know that he is doing this out of kindness, you want for him to do something, anything, just to make sure you'll choose him.

Then he kisses you. Not like she kisses you, but the way you always thought kisses should be, or maybe you only thought so because it's from him. He pulls back, and you can't take your eyes away from his. But just as you're about to reach out and latch onto his arms to pull him close again he turns around and walks down the steps without even looking at you as he says his goodbye.

You sit there like the idiot you are, feeling oddly empty. You sit like that, only staring at the spot you last saw him until time has passed, you don't know how long, and then you climb to your feet and scream. You scream all those things that you wanted to tell him, cry for all the world to hear that you love him, you love him, you love him and you don't want to tell your mother that you're with her because you love her too much to hurt her like that. Guilmon wakes up and says that he knows already.

But he didn't hear what you meant to tell him; he has probably gotten home by now anyway.

-

Your mother doesn't seem as happy as you thought she'd be when you shyly tell her that her little boy is growing up, gripping the hand in yours a little tighter.