*Disclaimer: This work is NOT meant for sale or any other way of profit, it was created for entertainment only. All rights reserved to Digimon belong to Toei and other people that created and realized the project. If Digimon belonged to me it surely wouldn't end the way it did. =P
Digimon fanfic: Proud – The Right Thing
(various pairings)
Kitsune
December 2002
"When have you found out?"
Iyou's eyes dropped from Koushiro's back down on the wet sky-blue tiles of the bathroom. Without his glasses they were a bit blurry all in all, but he could still sort out the lines. He was kneeling on them, dressed only in his boxers with a towel underneath him preventing them to dig into his skin. His hands stopped washing his friend's back. The question seemed to be formed on a double-edged base. Either was Koushiro asking him from mere curiosity or pure disgust, repressed barely by their now thin-lined friendship.
"I'm not sure I'm what you're labeling me," he replied quietly. It was quite intriguing what he was feeling. His body remained limp next to girls and boys, no matter the age, no matter the appearance. He was totally asexual for anybody and anything, with no exceptions. So it was that much of a wonder, mostly to himself because no one else really knew about it, how his body seemed to burn when Koushiro was in his sensory range. Infact, he was quite glad he was sitting out of the boy's sight at the moment. He was so bloody trying to think unsexy thoughts and still he was fighting between half-arousal and stiff hard-on. To add spice on that, the red-head turned the almond-shaped hazel depths to him.
"You always understand me," Iyou heard him say, dragging his eyes up from the tiles, wondering where this leaded. It was quite true, he normally always figured out what the problem was, but at that moment he couldn't recognize Koushiro, nor he could sort out the reason of his change.
"... you always know how I feel," Of course, if Iyou was excellent at something, it was sympathy. The link with Koushiro had always been the strongest if not the only. But the boy's feelings were a total enigma to him at that point. He simply couldn't open that link at any rate. Perhaps he was just too scared to face his friend's feelings?
"... you're always there for me," Iyou couldn't dream of ever not being there. But things seemed changing, evolving into something... different. He still wished he could keep supporting his love anytime and in everything. Would he still be able to?
"But now, Iyou..." Trough the steam and heat Iyou tried to sort out on Koushiro's face the boy's feelings. Without his glasses he could only barely guess. But then the red-head turned forth again, and the feeling that shot trough the blue haired boy was most like a mind numbing slap. He felt empty, like if all of his being, all of his painful feelings shattered into shreds of a broken mirror.
"Iyou..." he was given a glimpse of those foxy eyes as the red-head glanced at him over his shoulder, as if wanting to acknowledge the boy hadn't moved. Koushiro reached behind him, getting the hold of the older boy's hands and slowly drawing them up under his own arms in front of him, around his waist, scooting back slightly. He leaned back tentatively, blushing as his skin met Iyou's. The boy was totally numb, stiffened, he barely acknowledged. Tangling his fingers with his, Koushiro leaned his temple against Iyou's cheek, he closed his eyes acknowledging the rhythm of the boy's heartbeats synchronizing with his own. "... now I want to understand you."
Iyou's grip suddenly tightened around his waist and he was hugged close. It felt right. And not just soothing... It was as if he could suddenly feel all of Iyou's feelings, as if they have become equals. Iyou was always the comforter, the shoulder to cry on till then, now he was too. Only now they would really begin to work things out.
Iyou couldn't decide where to start. He wanted to do so many things, make Koushiro experience so many feelings, ... His hands moved all by themselves upon that perfect skin, caressing it softly. "Izzy..." he breathed. It felt natural to plant a kiss in the spiky fox-brown locks at that point. "What do you want to know?"
"Everything," the red-head drew away tuning his whole body to face him better. Hazel depths found ebony-black.
"Until I feel all there is to feel, over and over." [6]
~o@o~
The klaxon horned out three times, just like every Sunday morning. At quarter to seven, precisely. Iori quickly laced up his blue Adidas trainers and straightened before the big full-size mirror in the hall. His new denim jeans weren't exactly the best choice for a motor ride and his black sleeveless turtle neck under which the long sleeves of his favorite sky-blue cotton shirt peeked made him look all but a paper delivery boy.
Details! It didn't matter... He smiled dreamily at his own reflection, his fingers grazing trough his long hazel locks. Kendo and long hair didn't mix very well, but if they served to please a certain somebody, a very special somebody, then all of his grandfather's punishments were a worthwhile price to pay. Iori watched his fresh hazel locks, falling in perfect silky falls tucked behind his ears at the front. Too bad he had to wear the helmet...
"See you later, grandpa!" he cried out grabbing the object in question from the small hall wardrobe. The anticipating smile that kept curving his otherwise serious features fell as soon as he caught in sight the silhouette of the old man.
"Does your wisdom advice you to go?" clear eyes dug into his own, in the same cast of emerald green. The old features, scared from time and wisdom turned hard and sharp. Iori sighed. They had had this conversation before, been there - done that, and still here it was, brought up again.
"I borrow wisdom only form my heart," he replied quietly, eyes never leaving the old man's.
The thick gray eyebrows twitched as the oldest Hida regarded his grandson. His disciple was only twelve, nothing more than a boy. A boy involved with a person who counted nearly four years more. This was not how he pictured his clever student to start life with. He was to be the head of the family, the stabile base of the relationship, the main force to keep things going and not...
"You are naught but a fool," he hissed, irritated by the stubbornness of his heir. They were an old royal family, only their own blue blood strained their honor. Therefore they couldn't dream of letting the new head of the family get wont of hiding his face in the mother's skirt - getting a wife older then he was!
/ realize that to question is how we grow /
Iori smiled faintly, calm as he always was. "Your judgement is your own, grandfather." Oh no, he wouldn't let it spoil this wonderful Sunday that started up so perfectly. Today nothing could shatter his excellent mood, not even the accusing glare his granddad was shooting him. "It is what you taught me, remember?" Smiling up in the old man's face he felt so young and full of life. And he felt loved, a feeling which he doubted the old man had experienced for an eternally long time now. But even so, he couldn't pity him - he was his teacher. Still that wasn't the main reason. It was just becoming so obvious the envy that his grandfather nutrished over his relationship. "Goodbye, sensei," he said playfully, lightly, tossing the words over his shoulder carelessly. The moment left him with a feeling of unreality, of dreams. It stroke him slightly, as a memory from far away. He was suddenly flooded with a feeling that he was seeing the old man for the last time. His smile fell as he was clawed by fear. But he didn't stop for the momento had already brought him over the threshold.
"Iori!" His head snapped forth onto the road, hair flowing.
His love stood there, or rather sat, like he knew she would. Miyako was looking up at him from the road, from where she was sitting on her heavenly white scooter, the color seemed even more bright compared to the mock-white newspapers tied on the back. But there was, as always, enough place for him to sit behind her. She too was dressed to match the whiteness of the scooter, in her simple but elegant white miniskirt and a soft, furry looking woolen pullover, just as white, so her indigo locks were even more bolded out, spilling in long falls along her back from under the white helmet.
For a second her gray depths lingered on his face, noting worriedly the sudden flow of already passed fear. A familiar feeling. It seemed just like the one she'd been flashed over while mounting her scooter. But if Iori was scared, she couldn't allow herself to be too. For as long as she could offer him her love and protection there was nothing for him to fear. So there also was nothing for her to fear, she had plenty of them both to give.
"C'mon," she smiled warmly up at him, "we mustn't be late." The boy's eyes, still a bit uncertain, flew back to the house, sending his boyishly brown locks flying. But as he turned to face her again a slight smile was warming his lips too. After all, wasn't it worthless worrying about things beyond their knowledge? All that mattered at that point was that they were together, and were going to spend the whole day proving it, just like they intended to the next and many more Sundays to come. Right after delivering the Sunday paper to the whole block.
Iory folded on the scooter behind her adjusting the lace on his helmet and slipping his arms around her waist. Delighted as she felt him spoon against her, Miyako was ready to go. Just then a whisper touched her ear...
"Promise me, Yolei..." Softening she turned her head slowly to face him, misty gray bathing in emerald green. "Promise me we'll be together forever," Iori was asking quietly. Her hand stole to caress what was still exposed of his soft cheek.
"I promise, Cody. Till the end of time."
But time was running out.
~o@o~
"Why don't you want to be with me, Takeru?" Kari's eyes were rapidly filling with tears, shaking, "I love you...!"
He didn't know what to say. Was there anything to say at all? Everybody always said it was destiny for them to come together, the two angels, hope and light. But while Kari was gleaming day after day, year after year, in her ever-brighter splendor, he had lost his hope somewhere along the path a long time ago. Hope that he could forget about all those forbidden feelings that gave him no peace...
"Don't you love me, Takeru-chan?"
He couldn't look at her, at all. Why did he have to see this all the time, why did it keep coming back like an apocalyptic déjà vu? He was sure he had lived this before. Or was it just all in his head? He opened his eyes again, wanting to make sure he was only having a nightmare. But Kari was there, so very there. Crying her wonderful clear brown eyes out. Shaking like a leaf in a whirlwind. Waiting for the approval that he wasn't mouthing, that he couldn't mouth.
Why, Takeru, tell me! Answer me! those swollen eyes, titled directly up at his own, demanded of him.
Was it all right to tell? Was it OK to come out of the shell? Was this really the right time? Regarding the bleeding wounds on Hikari's broken heart his soul was ripped apart. All was lost. He had wandered for too long and too far away from her, from all of them. But even if he wouldn't, the path he had chosen was the one with no return. If the truth stroke now it wouldn't matter anymore, the damage was already done. Barely repressing his own tears, Takeru lifted his eyes to lock with Hikari's once more. It is probably for the last time, he told himself... If he could master a tiny flame of hope, he would have used it to light the wish in his heart, that Kari would understand...
And he told her.
/ so I step out of the ordinary /
Her footsteps thudded away from him over the wet asphalt. Numb and feelings he watched her run away, carrying that heavy secret on her small shaking shoulders. Her wounded heart was swelling not only from confusion and desperation, but mostly from the shock of them both. His tears were mixing with the rain that beat upon his face and he knew he should be crying in agony, but inside he was filled with naught other but eternal peace.
His vision blurred almost to black forcing him to blink. But the blur wouldn't go away, so he bated his eyelashes again. He was almost sure somebody had called his name. Lips touched his swelled eyelids gently and kissed the blur of tears away with their soft touch. Leaning over his own, Tai's face was soft and caring.
"'s alright, 'keru." Those soft lips touched his nose, once, before curving into a reassuring smile.
Taichi's bedroom, his memories provided Takeru the lack of information. Taichi's bed. His gaze slid over the room unconsciously. Of course he had told Tai it was not a good idea for him to sleep there, but once the brunette made up his mind there was little left to do. Takeru was not going home with the storm blasting outside. Still he had to promise to wake him up early so he could go home without actually meeting Kari. Takeru drew his arms lazily about Taichi's neck, hugging him down to lay on top of him protectively.
"You're the strangest guy I ever met," he whispered as Tai's ear was near enough to his lips. A surprised chuckle tickled his neck. "I brake your sister's heart and you're here comforting me..."
Slowly, as if in a dream, Tai lifted to loose himself again in the blue of those eyes. Smiling. That's right, Takeru had no need to know that he and Hikari were now growing into strangers, that they couldn't find a common tongue to speak in. Conversations seemed to freeze as they faced each other ever so often. Sure he loved her, but it just wasn't the same. Would it be different if Hikari had been a boy? A straight brother? No, most probably not, it would only be worse. And the best thing was he had no clue of what was he supposed to do, what was the right thing to do. All the advises given, although very rare, were mere bullshit that mostly never surpassed the line between theory and practice, despite their givers assured oh so otherwise. Tell? Hide? How were they to know what his parents and Kari would think of it? Only a fool would go for it. So he settled to struggling trough on his own, with his own rules and theories. At first it seemed easy, too easy to be true infact. As long as he kept his mouth shut and freed the demons as secretly as possible in the night - all was well. The problem was that he couldn't keep doing that forever. Every queer occasionally had to face the daylight...
Kari would eventually struggle trough and lead her life on as if nothing had actually happened, but Takeru could never. All the scandals and slaps were jet to come. The least Taichi felt he could do was stand at his side, next to the small blonde's brother...
"C'mon, lets get something to eat before you head home, Taa-chan."
~
"T- Takaishi... !!" Mimi shot up from the kitchen-table chair, eyes blazing. She gave no credit to the fact that the white T-shirt Kari had borrowed her to sleep in didn't ride not even to her hips, let alone to cover her white laced knickers and not to mention that with the lack of her containing bra her prosperous chest was a rather appealing appendage. Or at least it would be for a women-loving audience. She watched the younger blonde freeze in his steps, exactly where he had exited Taichi's room, dressed up like a little fairy-boy slut that she knew he was. Skintight snow-white show-or-no CK T-shirt and low-sling flared brown-denim pants. She felt a strong urge to claw those gleaming blue eyes out while plugging with her nails all over his petite face... All that kept her in check was the fact that Kari was still sleeping. That and Taichi peeked over the boy's shoulder, lifting an eyebrow which she interpreted as a silent commentary on her looks. She settled for sitting back down in silence, eyes never leaving Takeru. Indeed, what was the bastard doing in the Yagami apartment, in Taichi's room? ... the little slut... she bit her tongue not to say it aloud.
"Morning, Tachikawa," smiled Taichi, shrugging off the tension that his sixth sense acknowledged. "Care for some eggs and bacon?" Satisfied when she nodded and thanked him politely, he walked pass Takeru and Mimi both, totally ignoring the way the two of them were staring at each other. While Mimi's was a glance of barely repressed indignation, Takeru's was a pale cast of fear and confusion. What was HER problem? Takeru knew full too well the pink-haired girl nutrished sincere hatred in his regards, but he had no idea why. Well actually he had one. Probably being Hikari's best friend, Mimi already knew what was going on and was plotting revenge on her own knowing Kari would have never be able to do so herself. Oh well, just another name to add on his enemy list...
A dispassionate glance he threw at the silently ticking clock on the nearby wall told him he had no time to fool around. If he got home before his mother woke up, he could just tell her he came home sometime during the night. "I'd really have to be going soon," he told no one in particular even if it did sound titled at Taichi. But the boy was already rummaging with the pan so it was just kind of left floating in the air. But as soon as he sat himself down by the table, he got the assurance his statement was heard alright.
"Nice to know."
His dark blue eyes glanced sideways over the table towards Mimi. The girl had returned to sipping her expresso, thing that she had probably been doing before the two of them, Tai and himself, walked into the dining room. Her cold eyes were focused on some point on the wall opposite her as she wore a totally nonchalant expression. Truly, what was wrong with her? PMS? Christ, America sure had changed her. It was hard to believe she was one of the few people who took such care of him back when he was seven... But still, Takeru couldn't help but feel a little bit – alright - a reasonable bit insulted. "Pardon?" he asked politely, but he couldn't help but pour some of the girl's own venom into his voice.
The girl's willow eyes, cold like the very ice, pierced him with their gaze. Takeru found himself totally unprepared and bewildered by the sheer force of it as he found out he couldn't turn away. "Indeed. But I still don't think just an apology will do."
Takeru sat very, VERY still. Mimi knew alright. Frozen, he found himself digging up all sorts of possible damage she would be able to do to him now. Shocked, he stopped counting after the twentieth possibility. Yes, there was much one enraged homophobic girl could do to him... But, truthfully, he wasn't all that well shielded and protected as he had grown to believe. All it took to shatter his world to shreds completely was drop a single word to his mother, as simple as that. But then again, this was Mimi, the sweet sincere Mimi Tachikawa with a big fancy pink cowgirl hat. The very same girl that would let him fall asleep in her lap while she would lean on the bare rock in order to afford him at least a bit of comfort, who would whine and protest out loud when he clung to her skirt too tired to go on, who would curl up with him and Kari to keep them warm when the nights fell cold... In some way, he felt like if he had let her down, like if he hadn't lived up to her expectations. As a matter of fact, it crushed him down even more as it did with his mother, for when he needed a soft embrace and a gentle word, Natsuko Takaishi was never there. Thankfully, soon enough Mimi wasn't able to be either, for she and her family moved to the United States. He couldn't bring himself to picture the way her words and glares would hurt if the two of them were closer than they were. Even like that, he felt tears veil up beneath his eyelids. He had totally isolated himself now, all of his friends suddenly regarded him either with hatred or sadness, no one even tried to take a closer look. No one but Tai.
He stood up. The crest of hope? With things laying shattered unmovable all around him, hope floated beyond his grasp. But he couldn't unfold his strong wings to reach it – they had been ripped off. He was no longer an angel that warmed the promises and lightened wishes in the hearts of those around him. He could feel the pressure of the willow eyes upon him, following wearily his moves until they could not do so, until he had moved to stand behind Mimi. Ever so softly he let his arms fold around her and he nuzzled in her soft pink locks.
"I'm not sure I'm able to do anything else," he whispered, feeling her stiff underneath his calm touch.
He had fallen from heaven's gardens. And there was no way he could fly himself up there again. It felt wrong.
/ I can feel my soul ascending /
And he was right. X
[06] - One thing that I'm fond of is finding always new phrases to say 'I love you' without actually saying the words. I trust I'm getting annoying along with them?
off to chapter n°6
mail to Kitsu
