*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 - Collidings
(various pairings)
Kitsune
January 2002


"Where's Takeru?"

Mimi shook slightly at the sound of Tai's voice and her eyes snapped to the boy who was currently busy balancing three nice smelling plates at the same time. He managed to deposit them on the table quite skillfully, proof that he wasn't doing it for the first time. Still he could have do it more gently, Mimi noted. She watched him pull out a chair opposite her and drop down on it, resting his hands on the table. Then his eyes, his heavy-glaring autumn eyes, fell upon her questioningly.

"He's... Well he had to go in a hurry," she half mumbled the answer, eyes dropping on the table beside her now empty cup. Takeru was a heartless bastard! Too bad not even she believed her own thoughts anymore. In that swift hug as the younger blonde put his arms around her, she felt hit by a blasting wave of sadness and despair, of resignation and spleen, all at the same time. It crept inside her heart, icily cold like a deadly venom, jet burning as the strongest of acids. Time stood still, and her fear rose to grip her throat like a deadly vise. They were the same. Both were hurt badly and were desperately trying to pull their head out the gutter. All they had ever tried to do always proved to be helpless. She herself was still dragging her life along in what was left of the now hollow belief that all sometime somehow works out, but Takeru was dying, psychically as well as spiritually. Takeru, little blondie-tressed TK-chan, was fading away. From the others, from her and... And from himself.

"Sorry..." she muttered, never noticing the tear that splashed in the cup beyond her, melting with the dark strains of what was naught more than a memory of the far since dried down drink. Indeed, little TK was the one who she was supposed to love, to guide, to stand beside to, to keep from doing her same mistakes... Then why did she settled for hating him? Because he hurt Hikari? Because he was being honest? Honest as she swore herself she would be?

A light thump forced her to concentrate on what was going on outside her head. Her cup was being pushed away by a big white heavenly-smelling plate. Startled she dragged her willowy eyes up upon the boy opposite her, upon his autumn depths, expectedly.

"We all have our own reasons to chew ourselves out with regret," Taichi forced himself to twitch a smile. It was a bad morning. One of those he wished he could simply curl up in the corner of his room and sleep the whole day long. Or at least that was what he would normally wish to do. But as the days passed by, peaceful sleep and sweet dreams were seemingly nowhere to be found. So with a bad day gleaming at the horizon, the best way to survive it was get up and face it, as simple as that. The only problem remained that practically every day started out in this precise bad way. What way? It was quite indefinable as well as unnerving waking up every morning as if from a nightmare that he know he should be able to remember – but couldn't.

"Do you know Takeru's gay?" shot from the girl's direction, impassively, and Taichi froze. What was to be said now? Woud it save his ass to bottle it up? Would it hurt anybody by admitting he knew? His eyes were locked with Mimi's, unbearably. Only now he realized he wasn't actually given a choice, for she was already reading the answer within his eyes, within his heart. Nonetheless he nodded slightly, now saving his own face despite the carelessness he was suddenly flooded with.

"Do you know I'm gay?"

Somehow it seemed logical to hear that sentence from her mouth. And he found himself saying...

"I could ask you the same thing."

/ What have you done today to make you feel proud? /

Wordless, their conversation became. They were far beyond words, far beyond shock of realization and just as far beyond any other feelings. All that was left inside their hearts was pure understanding, a final settlement of riddleous puzzle. The girl's willow eyes were calm and steady upon his, just like Tai knew his own were against hers. Time seemed freezed up less for the quiet tickling of the swing-clock on the wall, the steady rhythm melting to guide their heartbeats ever so softly.

They were never close friends, they never actually paused to ask what the other thought or believed in, they were strangers. Or rather had been. An abrupt link seemed forming between them then, a familiar flow of otherwise believed to be inadequate questions mirrored in each other's eyes, mixing with answers all the while. Once again, Taichi felt the group was gathering under the same darkened sky. Slowly, one by one, they were coming back to him, seeking his leadership. He was scared of how much a soothing feeling it actually turned out to be.

It was wrong. They had no reason to come together again, no reason for him to lead them again. There was no one to fight now, save themselves of course. So why was it what he felt he was supposed to do?

"Taichi..."

His head flew in a rush towards the source of the voice and he bolted on his feet. In the doorframe his sister was standing in her pale pink pajama, shattered and still like the shadow that was clawing her heart. Her cheeks were far beyond damp with the steams of inexorably flowing tears. Fear slashed trough him. Had she heard them? Was all they had broken now?

"It's begun," she said calmly, but he hadn't failed to notice the way she was trembling. He took a tentative step towards her, frowning.

"What has?"

She let him reach her in his hesitant pace, all the while looking at the shocked-looking pink-haired girl that seemed unable to trust her knees. Mimi understood, she was able to read clearly in those swollen oak-brown eyes the dark secret that lay heavily upon the tortured soul...

"What has begun, Kari?" Taichi put his hands to rest on his sibling's small shoulders, forcing her to drag her gaze straight up into his own.

The darkness within devoured him. "We're loosing."

Behind them, Mimi soundly broke down in tears, heavy pink locks pooling onto the table as her forehead fell upon it. [08]

~o@o~

Takeru froze in his steps. There was no way he was seeing what his eyes assured him he was. Incredulous, he watched across the playground beyond the apartment complex he lived in at the familiar silhouette sitting lazily on the big stony steps that lead to the building's entrance. A familiar pair of twin coal-brown gems spackling back at him, the one and only he thought he could no longer admire nor dream to look upon him in anything else than hatred. Was it hatred indeed what sparkled in them? He couldn't tell from afar. Perhaps he was just getting the deserved ass-kicking out of this. Surrounded by the tale-like oak-framed playground he felt floating somewhere in between his memories and dreams, or a soft melody of both that slowly made his feet move, one step at a time, towards what he thought was the most crucial moment of his life.

It was there, on that very same playground, that he and Daisuke met what seemed a lifetime ago. Little did he knew that the boy who asked him to team-play a soccer game against two random older boys would grow to become his everything. At first a great co-player, then best friend, competitor, his fearless leader and, lastly, his dream of love. Things could really mess up in all the unexpected places and most of the ones left in between. Most times Takeru felt lifeless like an empty shell. What was the use of carrying the most precious of pearls when it couldn't be praised? When it couldn't be bought? Especially after you've spent your whole life breeding it in silent pain, loosing your soul, one piece at a time?

He sealed a promise inside his heart then. He would never write again.

He stopped abruptly in the middle of the playground, eyes dropping on the muddy ground. He knew he deserved every single one of the curses and kicks that Daisuke could master just as well as he knew he wasn't ready to face him. He stepped off of the main path trough the playground, boots splashing in the wet dust as he walked for the swings. A silent screech greeted his weight and his hands limply clutched at the chains. Perhaps it was a dream. Daisuke wasn't sitting there. Daisuke knew nothing of his novels, knew nothing of his feelings, they had never kissed. He and his mother had never been on that Christmas dinner, Yamato wasn't gay and their father wasn't either. All was perfect, every single thing was alright... He was still five and his soccer ball was still so big and round and glowing in the spring's first warm sunrays.

A silent thudding of nearing footsteps.

No, Daisuke wasn't coming upto him and, no, that wasn't his shade that drew in the dust beyond the swing on which he was lulling limply back and forth.

"Takeru..." said the voice that he swore himself he wasn't hearing. He shut his eyes firmly and gripped harder at the swing's chains. Who was he hiding from if there was no one there?

"TK..." the voice struck into him again. The voice that didn't exist...! A single tear stuck down his cheek. No. All was well. There was no problem, no problem at all...

Pressure was added to the swing and he precociously tried to plant his feet flat on the ground, steadying himself before he could loose balance, blue eyes fluttering open instinctively. His eyes were given a clear view on the oldest of the oaks in the middle of the park. his back connecting with what seemed to be a pair of football-built legs. He gazed up in surprise, meeting those unreadably sparkling coal eyes again, from a much shorter distance this time. Daisuke was standing on the swing behind him, slowly rocking them both back and forth.

"Now that you're listening, I think the least you could do is thank me," the brunette grinned down at him, lips parting to show two lines of fine white teeth. Takeru kept gazing up, speechless, uncomprehending. Of course he had a dozen of reasons to thank Daisuke like for forgiving him for the novels, for being there, for accepting him...

/ It's never too late to try /

"... y- you have no idea of how grateful I am..." he crisped quietly, feeling terribly nervous and totally unsure, but surprisingly better.

"'s alright," Daisuke lifted his eyes to gaze at the old oak. It was there where he fist saw Takeru with his big new soccer ball. He remembered how much he wanted to play with both at the same time, quickly provoking two of the older boys nearby... "Only next time, TK," he muttered smiling to the blonde sitting beyond him, "tell me when you need an alibi to stay out late."

He could practically sense the blue eyes widening and the yaw dropping. Infact it was how his sister had remained when he told her last night how he had saved Takeru's guts. As he phoned home, Mrs. Takaishi was already there and in her dragon-mood too. So instead of asking her to pass on the phone the son that he figured wasn't there, he settled for making a quick excuse of a late-stretched study that would beneficially result in a sleep over. His fear that she would want to talk with her son resulted to be worthless, for once Takeru's mother knew he was safe and fed, her over-worked brain moved to the next thing to be done – sleeping. Mumbling an affirmation and a g'night she hung on on him. Quite an adrenaline kicking experience indeed. Who said soccer wasn't a source of diplomatic get-away-withs? Especially the way the frequent morning jogs helped you get up early when you needed to wait for someone to warn him not to screw things up...

~

"Morning sweetie, by the way you look terrible," Natsuko Takaishi smooched her younger son on the forehead after throwing him a quick scan-over. She let him in and only then noticed another form that was standing on her front porch. Daisuke.

She tied tighter around herself her nigh-coat and smiled a little surprised smile at the boy. "Gee, you two are getting inseparable lately, no offence."

"None taken, it's true after all," Daisuke stretched lazily once the door was closed behind him. Being too busy throwing Takeru a reassuring gaze he missed the way the woman's weary eyes looked upon him. Was her little Takeru hiding something? No, of course not, he would never do such a thing, he would never be like... like that. But men proved to be irresponsible and twisted and her little Take-chan was, as much as a devastating thought it may had sound, becoming one. Not only his body structure was screaming with it and his voice was gaining depth, his attitude was changing remarkably. His childish demeanor, dreamy passion for chocolate ice cream, his sudden flashing smiles... Where did it all go all of a sudden?

"Have you boys eaten yet of would you like me to make some breakfast for us all?" she grinned politely, cursing herself. Such thoughts only brought disasters along. And besides, every moment spent with her son now was to be stored in the vast space within her heart only to be remembered as a small sign of parental love and success, one of the few.

Takeru watched her nod triumphantly as she was given their affirmation, already walking to the kitchen. So many people knew his secret that he had no idea if he could or could not trust. Wouldn't it all be better if she would hear it from him directly? A hand was placed on his elbow catapulting him back to the real world. His head flew till his eyes dipped in sea of coal brown.

"Let's get the talking done and over with, c'mon."

The few steps that leaded to the blonde's room were the longest and the slowest Takeru ever remembered having done. Infact, Daisuke's hand on his elbow now actually found it's purpose, leading him on. Settling limply on his bed he glared expectantly at his... well, his friend, as he stood beyond him, at least to how he appeared to Takeru, naturally.

But in truth, Dai felt REALLY tense. A word spoken wrong could make things crack apart when they weren't even fully bind together again. He inhaled deeply looking down at the lost soul that was once, and perhaps could become once again, his best friend. He could do this. He had rehearsed with Jun the whole evening, hadn't he? Even if he bloody knew he was a natural disaster when it came to deep talk, he knew he had to do it. After all, if he had chosen to back away from Takeru, then why bother saving his ass when he knew the blonde was locative enough to come up with an acceptable excuse of his own?

"Uh, look..." he begun but stopped just as soon, hands dancing in the air beyond him, gesturing something totally abstract in a desperate try to make Takeru understand. However, it seemed having the opposite effect for the blonde furred his eyebrows in confusion. "Well..." he tried again. Why the hell was his mind empty? He was supposed to be dropping all those highly intelligent phrases Jun made him learn, in the exact order to build a stabile effect. So where were they?! Glaring at Takeru desperately for a few minutes longer he decided to give up. With a sigh, he slumped next to the other boy and gazed up at him, defeated.

"To put it short, I don't fell the same way but I still wanna be friends," he spat in one breath the whole sum up of the good thirty sentences he kept going over at home but couldn't remember. The frown on Takeru's face disappeared, only to be replaced by a stone-cold mask.

"Sure. Whatever you want, Davis."

He would have winced then, if the ice in Takeru's voice hadn't have freezed him numb. It was a tone he never before heard escape the blonde's lips. So vile and sleek, so filled with sarcasm that the angelic face had a great amount of trouble reflecting. Takeru wanted him, Takeru needed him... and he wasn't willing to hear his plea. What was one supposed to do when put in such a situation? Give up? Play he hadn't noticed?

The phone rang and Takeru, feeling a strong urge to get away and smack himself for letting something like that out, bolted to answer it. Just as he picked it up his mother emerged from the kitchen with same purpose, wiping her hands in a cloth.

"Takaishi apartment." he sang in the phone routinely.

The voice that greeted him was deep and sensual and so very unique that there was no way he couldn't recognize it. Unfortunately the surprise made him yelp the name out loud.

"Yamato!" His brother never called him. If his mother would answer, he would get a hung on in the face. Infact, Takeru could practically feel the way her eyes darkened behind him. What he didn't feel was the hand that wrenched the phone out of his grasped and slammed it off in a burst of pure rage. He glared, shocked, at his mother. Could she really hate her own son so much? Was it truly possible? He couldn't sort out a reason good enough to justify it, wasn't maternal love supposed to surpass everything?

/ What have you done today to make you feel proud? /

Slowly, but firmly, he lifted the phone again, holding her raged glare perfectly. Even if she had a reason strong enough to hate his brother and father, there was no law saying he had to also. So he boldly typed out Yamato's cell-phone number never even throwing a glance a the numbers pad. Ignoring the look on his mother's face, he concentrated on the voice that cracked alive from the other side.

"Sorry, line problems," he lied, "So, what's up?"

What he heard made him totally forget his mother's outrage and Daisuke's egoism and everything else that was rummaging trough his head at that time, even his dark mood. His hand stole to limply cover his mouth in shock.

"Sure. Be right there," he managed to mumble, dropping the phone afterwards. He knew his mother was shooting him a glare, but right then that was of no importance. He swiftly ran to his bedroom's door, gasping in a rush.

"There's been an accident. We have to go to the Central hospital immediately...!" X


[08] - Well as much of a PWP it seems so far, you'll bloody see in the future. I spent 72 hours on library work and brainstorming for the plot x_x It was fun, though.

off to chapter n°8

mail to Kitsu