Schism - A quaint adventure in shounen ai with the occasional flock of strangeness by ShiniJekka
Crazed Author's Disclaimer – Thanks to the South Beach diet, I no longer own any pasta or bread. Or Digimon characters.
Crazed Author's Rant – Doing my best to keep the interval between chapters shorter and shorter. ^^ I'm apparently going to be on a fanfic panel at an anime convention, so I figure I really ought to … write more fanfics. Makes sense, yes? This chapter doesn't really get much done, I feel, but I am happy with how a lot of the interaction worked out. Big sankyuus to Empress Daiken, New Obsessions, a bunch of other people, and my pre-reader Ace.
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Chapter 8 – This Form I Hold Now………………………………………………………………………………………………… …
I don't know why he insists on coming with me, but any further attempt to stop him and ask would just be pointless. Daisuke being Daisuke, he would scold me for pressing the matter and then give some incomprehensible and totally illogical reply, perhaps in the form of a meaningless analogy or some catchy phrase he'd make up on the spot. It happens often that I just have to set aside the misgivings and trust that he'll do whatever he's set his mind to doing, and whether or not it works out there really isn't much on the planet that could have persuaded him into doing otherwise.
Resistance is futile.
So comes the here and now, having all of us piled into Daisuke's room through his computer, parting ways with well wishes and waves, my standing by awkwardly as he writes his parents some quick note that with any luck will explain to their satisfaction the fact that their son will not be home on this evening. My arguments are futile and so I keep them to myself – in this, he will not be moved.
I wonder if someday I could be so strong. The last of the other digidestined depart, Miyako clutching Poromon to her chest tight enough to elicit muffled squeaks from the pink creature; Yamato and Takeru (Patamon, as always, on his partner's head) following soon after with a final quick note:
"If it gets too much, call us. We'll figure out something, okay? Just… call us."
Daisuke assures them that will be the case. I keep my eyes on the floor, listening to the door gently sweep closed.
All is quiet on the Kaiser front. It worries me even as it relieves me, and I'm not sure which emotion to believe in.
"I've got all the stuff I need," Daisuke says, touching my shoulder. As always, his hand is so very warm. As always, he looks surprised at my coolness. A duffle bag is slung over his shoulder, recognizable as the one he brings to his soccer games. I nod. He makes sure that his note is fully visible on the kitchen counter (a very curious smell lingers in the air, but I choose not to question it, nor the incredible mess in the sink), and together we step into the hallway. Daisuke locks the door behind us.
It is nine thirty-seven in the evening, and the streets are dark.
Odaiba has never been a particularly quiet town, not with its multitude of shopping areas and hangouts and the occasional odd roller coaster or onsen. The city has a breathing, moving nightlife, but on this night our path is quiet. We walk through the silence, through warm early summer air, with the glow of the Skywheel and its ever-changing ferris wheel color scheme in our wake. He doesn't live in this part of town, and taking the train would have been shorter and faster, but somehow wordlessly the Rainbow Bridge seems to have called us.
So we walk. Footsteps on asphalt and the hum of electricity and life, punctuated by passing cars; there are no stars out tonight, but the moon is a vague glowing ghost above us. Daisuke shifts the weight of his duffle bag. A sneaker scuffs. Somewhere, someone honks. It's a long trip by foot, but the air is fresh and the dark sky is endless.
We walk silent and useless like prayer.
At the door to my apartment building we look up at each other. He smiles, lopsided and sheepish, letting the bag down from his shoulder to flop on the sidewalk (from within it there is a muffled squeak of discontent).
"Tamachi has such a different air to it," Daisuke says. "You'd hardly think they were sister cities."
"It's quiet tonight," I reply, hushed. "As was your town."
He nods, running a hand through the mahogany juts and spikes of his hair, thoughtful in the soft haze of moon and streetlight.
"That's the first thing you've said since the Digital World," he says finally.
"I know."
"It worries me."
I smile faintly at that, and tilt my head toward him. "Then imagine my concern, Daisuke, at you being just as quiet. You, who never seems to run out of words or stories..."
"Yeah," with a chuckle. "I dunno, I guess there was a mood that I didn't wanna break. It felt sorta… relevant."
"Reverent?"
He shrugs. "Either, I guess."
"Aah."
Another few minutes is spent staring at the front door of the building, and it should be creeping toward ten or ten thirty, depending on how much time I've actually lost track of. I feel very much in control of my senses, which is nothing at all what I was expecting this to be like. I guess I don't truly know what I did expect, but it wasn't this dead silence. A soft laugh, a snide remark, maybe even the glimpse of a tyrant at the edges of my perception – but it's as though he was never there to begin with. Maybe, maybe, he and Gennai were wrong. Maybe he's been left behind, wandering the Digital World and picking up the pieces from the sand. I'd like to believe it was all a stupid dream.
Yet I have the memory of his eyes meeting mine through the tint of his glasses, and the ghosts of his fingertips are still lingering on my skin. A dream? As though I could be so lucky. I only have nightmares, now.
"So, you ready for the hurricane?" Daisuke asks, reaching down to pick up his bag once again.
"Hurricane?"
"Your folks, Ken." His brow furrowed, concern evident. "It is sorta late, and I'm willing to bet Kaiser didn't bother to leave a note or call to let them know you wouldn't be home for dinner."
I forcibly suppress a shiver that tries to dance down my spine; despite the silence so far, I feel as though I'm walking a very thin line, trying not to disturb a sleeping dragon. Rather than plead with Daisuke to not ever say his name again (it would only make him press the issue), I muster up a slight shrug and a shamefully feeble smile.
He stares at me for a long moment, and with a shake of his head enters the building. I follow a step behind, and we two weary soldiers make our way up to the door of my apartment.
There is just enough time to open the door, step inside, and take off our shoes before the hurricane strikes.
"KEN! Where have you BEEN?" My mother comes careening around the corner of the kitchen, slippers barely catching hold on the floor as she attempts to change her trajectory. "I was worried to DEATH, you vanished from your room and then it was time for supper and you didn't come and weren't there and didn't come even after and we thought -- … we thought --…" She takes in a huge gulp of air, trembling all over as strands of her hair distress around her face. I stand absolutely still, as though if I don't make sudden movements she won't be able to see me. I don't know what to tell her, and all of the earlier bravado about coming back to the real world in order to not put them through such an ordeal again is leaking away like water.
"Did you say Ken?" comes my father's voice from down the hall a ways, my father coming right behind it. He skids to a halt beside my mother and they both stare at me. I wonder if they think I'll vanish right here and now if they dare look away. Daisuke is similarly caught in the headlights of the moment – he's got one shoe still half-off and he seems to have forgotten how to close his mouth. It occurs to me he's likely never seen my parents in their most protective phase.
"Tadaima", belatedly. For worrying them again, I even manage a smile.
My father seems to regain himself first.
"Ken, you know when you're going to out like that, you need to let us know where you're going, and when you'll be back!" I wonder if he knows that his face turns shades of mottled red when he's upset.
"Uh, it's my fault!" Daisuke leaps in, stepping forward in front of me and waving his arms. "I had a big fight with my folks.. er.. and I called Ken and he came right over because I was very distraught, and it took until now to .. undistraughtify me."
"Undistrau-… what?", my father echoes, clearly lost. My mother, on the other hand, begins to almost physically ooze maternal protective urges.
"You had a fight with your parents, you poor thing." She's wringing her hands together, unsure whether to take him in or send him back, I guess. "But if it's this late, I don't want to send you back home this late at night, it's dark out there and all…"
"I'll go back tomorrow," Daisuke says, in a hurry to reassure her. "These things never last long, and, I … I don't want to make them worry about me too much."
Ah, the craftiness of he. Somewhere along our history he must have figured out exactly which strings were the ones to pull when it comes to my parents. Strange that he should be able to handle them so much better than I.
"I don't know about this," my father, scratching his chin and rocking back on the heels of his slippers. "It isn't really our way of things to get involved in the troubles of other families.."
No, of course not. Our way of things is to bury all of the problems and keep smiling perfectly on the outside until it rots away and leaves us hollow, leaves us open for other sorts of things to move in and settle. And meanwhile, she worries and wails, he rages and comforts, and I …
Well. I.
"You can use the lower bunk of Ken's bed." My mother stands a little straighter, having made her executive decision and prepared to stand behind it. Her eyes linger on me a moment longer, caught between soft relief and anger; she turns to her husband, mouth set to a firm line. "And in the morning he'll go back home before school, right dear?"
Whatever reserve he had left wilts in the face of a determined wife. It occurs to me that he's usually in bed long before this time, and that he was probably going to stay up until I came home. How many times did he stay up late while I was the Kaiser, waiting for a son that no longer cared to go home at all?
Something stirs, somewhere deep; a snake shifting in its coils, lifting lazy-lidded eyes. I go very still, forcing my mind to go blank as I feel the blood rush from my face.
Daisuke falters in his grateful babbling to my mother; one hand going to his chest as his heart doubtless goes into overdrive. I think mine is about to burst through my ribcage. What a mess that will cause…
Dark thoughts. Stop it.
back to sleep, go back to sleep.. oh, please..
Silence. My pulse slows, but the room is much colder now, somehow. Daisuke plasters his grin back onto his face, his cherry eyes sneaking toward me during the nonsense of it. It really is poor of me to leave him to face the brunt of her mothering alone.
"Daisuke is probably very tired, Mama." Which is a total lie, I don't think he's capable of getting tired; I've never seen it, myself. Just varying stages of energetic. "And I've kept you and Papa up too long as it is; I'm sorry. We'll just go to my room now, alright?"
My father nods wearily, rubbing at his face as he slouches slightly. "It is late," he says, "Ken's right. And, I'm sorry if I came onto you too strong, son; you did right to help out your friend, here. It's just… I thought it was like last time, happening again…" He trails off, eyes going distant, and without another word turns and walks to the bedroom he and my mother share. She watches him go, shoulders dropping with a silent sigh, before tearing her gaze from the wake of his passing to look upon the two of us again.
"You'll call your parents in the morning?" she asks Daisuke quietly, and the smudges of exhaustion below her eyes are suddenly so prominent.
"Promise," he returns solemnly, and I see his fingers cross behind his back. He will call them, of course; I think the gesture is meant toward the whole lie in general. My sweet, silly Daisuke.
Again, that feeling. The background fades, the voices and sounds dimming, receding under waves, the colors mute.
Waves?
Something hot grabs my hand, and I'm yanked forward as Daisuke's voice cuts through the vision. Goodnight, he's saying, Thank you, Sorry, Goodnight, and I stumble over my own feet and into my own room, and I realize that his hand is in mine and he's slammed the door shut behind us.
"Ken," his hands on my shoulders, his face so close to mine that it would only take a small lean and shift, his lips would be so hot because it's so cold here.
Here…?
"Ken", again, urgent. Warm breathe on my face. Things are starting to focus again, the world bleeding back into colors it rightfully owns. Daisuke's eyes are large and sharp, making the world bleed.
"Daisuke," finally, my lips working again, half-numb. I bring up my hands, press to his chest, burrow them in the folds of his warm shirt. He moves his hands from my shoulders, down my back, around my waist, and pulls.
Warmth. The return of the world. Silence. My head resting on his shoulder, his arms around me. We fit so painfully well.
"This… might be harder than I thought." Just a whisper to his neck. He murmurs something, nothing, maybe everything; it's only heat and vibration. I suppose that's all I need. He's here, and real, warm and vibrant. He is, after and over it all, Daisuke.
"We're being watched," he says, a touch of amusement blotting out the concern in his voice. Reluctantly I raise my head, eyes adjusting easily to the dark of my room. From amidst the riot of tousled blanket on the top bunk, enormous blue eyes reflecting what bare light there is, wet and trembling.
"Ken-chan," he whimpers, crawling an inch further to the edge of the mattress. "What's wrong?"
"Wormmon." I let go of Daisuke's shirt, disengaging from the embrace. My green little partner crawls forward to the edge of the mattress, peering down at me, mouth slightly open as all the questions he no doubt has hover on the brink of being asked.
"I was worried about you," plainly, in a small and wobbly voice. "You just got this odd look and you left. Where did you go?" he asks.
Daisuke, behind us, quietly opens the door and sneaks outside into the hallway. Wordless, I reach up for the virus-type, taking him as he pushes forward the few extra inches into my hands. His eyes close with a sigh; I hold him close to me. For another few moments, all is right in the world.
I'm not looking forward to breaking his heart.
The door clicks closed again – a quick glance over my shoulder shows Daisuke returning, this time with his duffel bag that he had left behind when he pulled me in here. He shrugs at me with a rakish sort of smile, deft fingers working to loosen the cords of the bag. More muffled protests emit from it, and Wormmon's antennae perk slightly.
"Do I hear Chibimon?" His eyes blink open, searching my face for a moment before darting about the rest of the room.
"Yeah, you do," Daisuke mutters, reaching through a mess of clothes and fishing around for something. "You're probably gonna hear a whole lot from his as soon as he gets out of here, too."
"Daisuke…", warningly. He grins at me, prying open the bag a bit more and pulling out his digimon by the tail. Chibimon shakes himself, paws scrambling for purchase and finding instead Daisuke's head, which he latches on to. There's a sock stuck to his head.
"You made me ride in the bag," he says. "I HATE the bag."
"Tantrum at me later for it; you've got to keep quiet here or Ken's folks'll hear, okay?"
"Okay, but I'm savin' up the tantrum and it's gonna be huge."
"I'll deal with it somehow," Daisuke sighs, smile still lurking around the edges of his mouth. Wormmon squirms a slight bit – I put him down as Dai releases Chibimon to the floor, and they greet each other on the floor; that is to say, Wormmon nods shyly and Chibimon jumps on him with unrestrained glee.
"Sometimes when Ken brings me to his school, I need to be in a bag," confides the insect. "And then I stay in a locker. But it's just something that has to be done sometimes."
Chibimon giggles, sitting back and wiggling the claws of his feet in front of him idly. "I know that, but I feel better about it after I make Daisuke feel bad about it. And anyway, it was dark out and there weren't people hanging around outside, so I don't even know why I had to be in the bag in the first place!"
"Ken's parents," Daisuke reminds him, poking at his shoulder as he puts the bag in the corner, walking over to the bunk bed and taking a seat on the bottom mattress.
"Sure, once we actually got here."
"Maybe Daisuke and Ken-chan needed some time to talk," Wormmon says, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes. He wants explanations but he's far too gentle to say as much.
"That makes sense," sighs Chibimon. "They probably had a lot to talk about, too, what with Kaiser being alive and living in Ken's head and all."
Wormmon goes utterly still, eyes growing huge as his breath audibly catches. Daisuke starts to shoot to his feet but manages to slam his head on the bottom of the upper bunk instead, falling back onto the bed with pained curses he barely manages to clamp down on in time. Chibimon guilelessly blinks at the three of us.
"What'd I say?"
"Digimon… Kaiser..?" Minute tremors set into his frame, shaking so slight it can only be seen in the way it makes his antennae shiver. His mouth pincers gape, and his eyes glaze with a remembered horror that makes me wish I could simply erase the fact I had ever been.
"Wormmon," I start to say, but the vocabulary all fails me and the comfort dies in my throat. What could I possibly say to him to make this any better? He's remembering all of the things I would do to him when I was Kaiser, all of the abuse and mockery and threats, the careless kicks and snide dismissals. I abandoned him in every way, and he refused to leave me during any of it. And I, the Digimon Kaiser, sent him to his death. A history like that doesn't fade, doesn't slip away after the fact like water in a stream. It's the stain on the rocks, and here I am dashing his hopes and happiness up against them.
"Aggh.. that hurt!" Daisuke, rubbing his head. "And geez, Chibimon, have a little tact would you?"
"Was Wormmon not supposed to know?" The blue vaccine-type tilts his head, waiting for one of us to clear up his confusion. "That's sorta silly; I mean, he's gonna find out one way or another, right?"
"This is the sort of thing you really ought to ease in to…" He trails off; from the corner of my vision I see him glance at me, as though asking me what to do now. I'm trapped staring at Wormmon, waiting to see what he's going to do, waiting to know what I should do, waiting to understand how the world is going to align itself to the change.
"Because it's a big shock, you mean," Chibimon says, patting his paralyzed friend nonchalantly. "I dunno – if it's a shock like a really cold lake, I think it's better to jump in all at once than creep in little by little. Besides, we all found out all of a sudden, didn't we Daisuke? Wormmon's just like us!"
Daisuke buries his head in his hands, and I wonder in a very vague sense if he knows how similar their thought patterns can sometimes be. Perhaps that's true of all partners; it would explain the way my Wormmon and I seem to angst rather endlessly.
He lowers his head, antennae drooping. The tremors have resided, at least.
I don't know what to say, aside from what I forever tell him within my own self.
"I'm sorry."
He shakes his head no, expelling a heavy sigh before looking up with sad, clear eyes.
"Ken-chan, I'm sorry too. If I had been able to help you better than I did, maybe this wouldn't-…"
"Don't say that." He blinks at the interruption; I take great care to soften my voice, kneeling on the carpet before him. "You've always been the best thing in my life, Wormmon; this isn't in any way your fault. I think… I don't know what I think," admitted sheepishly, and it hurts to do so. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong, why he won't just be gone and done with, but I know it isn't you. You're what's right about me."
"And Daisuke too," Chibimon quips in. Daisuke shushes him, sounding a bit embarrassed. I have to smile. "He's whole bunches of right."
"And Daisuke, too. That's true, Chibimon."
Wormmon inches forward, a certain light of trust and absolute unconditional love in the blue of his eyes. Wordless I offer him my arms, and silent he settles into them. The clean, gentle scent of him, like the purifying smoke at temples, comforts my senses. As with Daisuke he is warm - as with Daisuke he fits perfectly with me.
"It's going to turn out alright," whispered delicately into the air. "Ken-chan, it will this time. I promise I'll make it right."
There is no possible right reply for that, in this situation that is neither good nor right. Instead of wasting sincerity or breath on emptiness, I let the moment pass: kneeling on the floor, holding an insect that still whispers promises he has no ability to keep.
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I'm real careful to be absolutely quiet during the minutes or so that Ken spends on the floor with Wormmon, and I make sure that Chibimon doesn't spoil their mood either, with a supremely effective technique I call stuffing his mouth sock. After the tender moments all passed and we got the two beds set up and changed into our PJs and crawled underneath our respective covers, he lets me know in an almost scary sort of voice that between the sock and the bag he's now in a very grumpy way, and to expect lots of pokey claws during the night.
Fa~antastic.
He understands why I did it, though, and he probably would have kept quiet even without the help of a balled up hank of foot-cotton, but that's just me and how I overreact to things. Hell, if Ken's Mom had come to the door with a tray of hot cocoa, I would have stuffed one in her mouth, too. Shortly after that I'd be grounded for life, and by my next parents in my next life for the rest of THAT life. It reminds me that I'm really happy Ken's Mom didn't come to the door, although I do really like cocoa.
Ken's room is weird. In my room in my house when you turn off the lights, the light is gone. It's black. You can close your eyes and then open them and there really isn't much difference, because I have superior window shades and my wall faces away from the majority of the city. Here, though, he's only got those stripey kind of blinds that don't block all the streetlight, so when you turn off the lights it all goes kinda gray instead. I feel bad about that because Ken hates gray.
Chibimon makes these funny noises when he sleeps. I can't really describe them right, but he's curled up on the pillow next to my head (and I'm being real sure to keep those claws away from my face, because he can get revenge even while sleeping if he tries) and when he exhales he sort of snores but it sounds like "weeeb". Sort of. From the top bunk I can hear Wormmon sleeping, he makes a wheezy, nasal, light little snore. I wonder if all digimon snore. Maybe their digi-nasal passages need work.
Ken doesn't snore. When Ken sleeps he's quiet like the dead. He hardly ever moves, too, unless he's having a dream. He's fallen asleep on me a couple of times, when he hang out together for lazy days at the park or in the digital world, when there's no one around and he lets his guard down enough. I love that he can relax that much with me. There's nothing really like your boyfriend dozing off on your lap. Since he doesn't snore, though, it's hard to tell if he's asleep or not; whether he's lying there staring upward like me, wondering, or if he's already gone to dreaming somewhere other than this stale gray room.
I have a very clever way of finding out, though. There's only a bare little mattress between us, after all, and all I really need to do is take my finger like so and start poking at the part of it that slopes down, signifying that Ken is there. Just like this. Poke poke poke. Pooooke. Poke poke po-..
"Daisuke", from the upper bunk, with maybe half the tired exasperation I was expecting. "What do you want?"
"Are you awake?"
"… I've just spoken to you, Daisuke. Yes. I'm awake. Do you need something?"
"Nah," I say in a whisper, stretching out my legs until the toes and knees pop. "I just wanna talk."
The bedframe creaks slightly; I can hear him shift and rearrange his blanket. "You always want to talk," with a touch of his dry humor.
"I dunno, maybe. Are you okay up there?"
"… We'll wake Wormmon. Just go to sleep."
Color me suspicious here, but I think he's avoiding the conversation. There was a little bit more pause after my question than there should have been, and the raspy wheeze of Wormmon's snoring continues. Chibimon is out like a light. No, I don't think that's what he's worried about…
"I can't sleep. Can you?"
"… No, actually, I can't. Someone keeps talking to me just as I get close."
"That must be annoying." I grin, poking at the large lump in the mattress that seems to be Ken. "Maybe you should humor them so they'll shut up."
He sighs and the bed creaks again as he pulls himself to the edge of the bed, peering down at me with tired eyes. They're his "I'm not amused right now" eyes, and my studies in Ichijouji 101 would tell me to back off for now, but I need to make sure he's okay before that happens. I want to make sure I'm the only one talking to him in the gray darkness.
"Fine," he says. His hair is the darkest thing in the room. "I'm humoring you. What are we talking about?"
"Why are you so cranky?"
"I haven't really had the best of days," in a tone so dry it sucks the moisture from the air and I'm thirsty now. "Maybe you'd noticed."
"Any day I spend with you is a good day." For extra effect I make my eyebrows go up and down a couple of times and grin like a loonie. He likes this grin sometimes.
Ken stares for a little bit, then shakes his head slowly from side and side and his head vanishes from the scene as he pulls himself back onto his bunk. I listen to him shift around and try to picture it in my head. I try to picture him settling down for a nice happy sleep with no worries. I'm a dreamer like that, I guess.
He's the next one to say anything, which is a very good sign, and his voice is soft and sort of … just tired. "I really do thank you for doing this," he says. "And I'm sorry you'll be in trouble for it. I almost wish you didn't insist on coming."
"Almost?"
"… Mmn. I'm … glad you're here."
"Then so am I. I'll deal with the parental backlash. I mean, I haven't done anything to get them mad in a while, so they oughta know they're about due."
He makes a little noise that could be a laugh and could be a sigh – it's hard to tell without being able to see him. Come to think of, though, it really has been a while since I've gotten the old parental units up in a tizzy. I must be turning into some sort of good kid, and that's while I'm saving a whole other mirror world on the side. I am just far too cool to be real sometimes.
On the other hand I guess my folks can be pretty cool too. Even though the note said "please don't call his house, his folks go to bed crazy early and they get mad at him when the phone rings", I was worried and wondering that maybe they'd call up anyway to double check my "Ken's family is angsting again and I'm gonna spend the night to help him stay sane." It wasn't all a lie.
"You know you're not coming to school with me tomorrow, yes?" Ken says eventually. I resist the urge to poke at his shape again.
"I know that. I wouldn't want to go to your school anyway. Your school's crazy."
"Any academic establishment will in time take on the afflictions of his students." He yawns; the bed creaks. Wormmon's snoring halts as he murmurs some nonsense things and both Ken and I fall silent for the time it takes for the little guy's wheezy sleep to continue.
"I don't think you should go either." Chibimon is still snoring – he needs one of those pictures of a saw sawing into a log. It takes like a train wreck to wake him up. "It's not good for you, because it's all pressure and social bullshit, and you weren't up to it then and you sure as hell aren't up to it now. It's not good for you."
"I really haven't got a choice, Daisuke. This late in the semester, with all of the final exams coming up? I can't afford to miss classes now. Summer break is in a few weeks – I'll bear with it until then." He yawns through his next sentence, "I always have anyway", and I've got my Protective Boyfriend frown on. Pity he can't see this one, it's impressive.
"Will you at least take Wormmon?"
"He won't be of much moral support from the locker," dryly. "He'd only be miserable sitting in there and waiting; you heard him. It's even worse, apparently, than the bag."
I sigh extra loud so that he knows I'm sighing and knows that I want him to know. "I don't want you to be alone, is all…"
His chuckle at that is maybe a little bit broken. "Daisuke," he says, soft. "I don't believe I'll be alone for a long time yet…"
That one takes a moment, and when I get it I grit my teeth.
"You mean Kaiser."
A twitch from the upper bunk. "Don't… say his name, please. It seems to attract attention."
"Huh?" What, are we distracting him from his television he's got tucked away in brain space or something?
"I don't exactly know why," he says. "He's here, that much I'm aware of… but it's as though he's … dozing. He hasn't-…"
Footsteps in the hallway a moment after he hushes, and I close my eyes and strain my ears. The pair of slippers, whoever they are, scuff by the door and pause. The doorknob clicks softly. I do my best "innocent boy sleeping" act, you know: mouth a little bit open, face lax, little 'poofs' of breathe. I hope she thinks Chibimon's snoring is coming from me, too. Now that I think of it, considering the sound Wormmon is making they probably think Ken has some sort of breathing problem, like that deviated septic whatever that kid in my homeroom was always complaining about.
I wonder how often they come and peek into the room, like some night they'll take a look and Ken'll be gone. It's happened to them a couple of times already, so I can't really blame them for the paranoia. But I still wonder.
A second click as the door closes, and the slippers shuffle back down the hallway toward where his parents sleep. I open my eyes again but it's still quiet. I wonder if he's gone to sleep. I guess it's possible, he was awful tired and the only thing probably keeping him awake has been my jabbering, though if I recall correctly he's been having crappy dreams so maybe I'm doing him a favor. Not that sleep deprivation has ever been considered a good thing in any case. I dunno. Maybe he's sleeping, because he's not moving at all. There's one great way of finding out.
"Please don't start poking me again," Ken says, a quiet and low mutter that sounds half into a pillow. My finger stops. Denied. Oh well.
"So you're awake?"
"We've been over this. My speaking to you is an indication of my wakefulness."
"I like to doublecheck. Some people talk in their sleep." It's true, too. Jun does. She says all sorts of potentially embarrassing things about boys – lately, about boys named Yamato. To that I can only say "ick", and I don't know how she doesn't notice that he and Taichi are so much a thing that it's like Yamato could never be a part of another thing. Because he's already in a thing. Maybe it's because she doesn't know Taichi. Or maybe it's because Yamato's in a band. Chicks lose their brain for band guys. I seem to fall for the brainy types, which I think makes me much less shallow. Take that, Jun.
He replies with a hum. I think he's drifting.
"Ken?"
Another hum.
"You were talking about someone that has a name I'm not going to say because he's dozing?"
"… Oh. I was. Do you remember what I was saying?" Shift, rustle, creak. Wormmon's wheezing and Chibimon's childlike sighs and weeweeb. I think back.
"You said it's like he's tired and dozing, and then you said he hadn't done something, and then you stopped cos I think it was your mom." He must be more tired than I thought to have to ask. "What hasn't he done?"
"Anything, really," and another yawn tacked to the last word. "Not a word, just a few stirrings. I think the transition through the gate disorients him."
"Maybe he's just sleeping? I mean, he had a sort of busy day too."
"Mmm… I think it's the gate, still. I had a similar problem when I went through to the Digital World."
Whoa, wait, that's news. "You had a problem in the Digital World? Aside from the big one that looks just like you, I mean?"
"It was hard to think for a while. Foggy, maybe. Like the whole world was wrapped in gauze. Sluggish." His voice is trailing off at the edges, weighted down. Sluggish, which is ironic. I want to hear more, but he should get some sleep, since he'll have early class that's gonna suck, and no one should have to face suck on too little sleep.
"Hey, Ken?" His reply is a half-there hum, so I keep going before he goes completely. "Go to sleep, okay? I'm done talking for now."
"Mmn.. g'nite, Daisuke." All slurred and far too cute. I suppose his mom would have a heart attack if she came in in the morning and found me curled up there with him. Damnit. If only heart attacks weren't bad.
"Ken?"
Not even a hum this time, not a noise beside Wormmon and Chibimon and the electric hum of the city. He sleeps like the dead, after all. I guess it's just me in this room now. That's okay; I'll say it anyway.
"I love you…"
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
I always wake up just a few moments before the alarm clock, and despite the ordeal of last night this morning seems to be no different. Of course I'm tired, but as always it's a thing I'm prepared to deal with. If Daisuke believes he's the only one of us who doesn't want me to go to school, he's very mistaken, but telling him as much would give him more ammunition in his argument. It's difficult to convince myself to begin with.
Detangling the sheets from my legs with quiet care, I lower down from the upper bunk to the floor, stretching out the sleep from my limbs. I slept surprisingly well, once my ridiculous new roommate actually let me sleep at all. There were no dreams to be had. I'd like to be a romantic and tell myself they were driven away by the rhythm of his breathing. Romanticism has never hurt anyone, I tell myself, though it is a horrible blatant lie.
The alarm clock is silenced before it can begin; there's no reason to wake up if he can get a few more hours or so in. I gather up my school uniform and clean underthings, opening the door with the silent practice of those who don't want to be heard or bothered. The shaft of hallway light that enters the room illuminates the edges of his hair, which seems to be a splatter of dark on a white pillow.
I dress myself in the bathroom, sparing only a glance for the self in the mirror to assess the damage. Bruises under the eyes, skin paler than my normal (which equates to roughly translucent for other people), and hair an unholy riot. That, at least, I can fix, and washing my face and brushing my teeth even makes me feel nearly human again.
I think there was still sand in my mouth. I know plenty fell out of my hair when I combed it. I'll have to change my bedding.
My mother is awake, judging from the sounds in the kitchen. In another ten minutes or so my father will exit his room ready for work, and we will take separate trains to our respective hells. This, I suppose, is growing up.
Creeping back into my room, because my school things are in there and I'll have to leave Daisuke a note of some sort. This time, Wormmon is awake. He watches me from the top bunk, eyes sleepy but shining. I think even if there were no source of light, they would still reflect all of the emotion that his little body can hold; no mean feat, as he has at least twice as much as I do.
"School?" he says in his smallest voice, antennae perking slightly. I nod, glancing around for my bag and finding it rather haphazardly thrown into the closet. I suppose it's good to know that my other self isn't going to wreck my room, though he could be more careful with my things.
"I'll be back after three," I whisper, taking a loose leaf of paper from a folder and a pen from my desk. "You'll be alright?" He nods, gaze never lifting from me. "Good. Tell Daisuke thank you for me, could you?"
"Okay, Ken-chan."
"Thank you." I smile for him, finishing the note and placing it rather obviously on the center of the computer desk. It's brief, but it serves its purpose, saying only that I've gone ahead to school and decided to let him sleep in as he'll need his energy to deal with his situation at home (safe enough terms in case my mother should happen upon it as well). It ends with a simple enough suggestion that we get together once I'm out of classes, and a side-note that he's lucky to have finished his summer semester before I have.
Another downside to going to an institute for the academic elite.
Fastening the bag closed and lifting it over my shoulder, I do as I do each morning I leave Wormmon behind – I step closer to the bed and raise my hand to him, and he places his head to my fingers with a soft sigh.
"Please be okay," he pleads in a tiny voice. "Ken-chan, please…"
"I'll do my best," I assure him. "Maybe ask Daisuke if you can spend time with him and Chibimon when they wake?"
"I want to wait for you here," hesitantly. "So I'll know when you're home."
I can't help but smile. "And the waiting would be miserable. I'll send him a message on his D3 when I'm out of class, and you'll know even sooner than if you'd have had to wait for me to come here." Massaging in light circles along the base of his antennae, and he really doesn't have the heart to fight both logic and what he knows he'd rather do.
"I'll ask," he says. "I hope he says yes…"
Careful not to laugh, I give him one final pat and shake my head. "It's Daisuke; of course he'll say yes." As though anyone could say no to those huge sad eyes, least of all Motomiya Daisuke and his compassionate heart, especially once Chibimon starts badgering him to agree as I know he will.
I linger in the doorway, enough time to cast a glance back into the room. The sun is rising behind the shades, erasing the grays with somewhat friendlier shadows. Nothing would make me happier than to stay.
It isn't until I close the door behind me that I let the smile slip; though it was genuine, it was regrettably short lived. Such is the way of smiles.
"I'll do my best", I told him, and he took it as a positive statement. Wormmon is, after all, an eternal sort of optimist. I've been doing my best my whole life, though, and it's yet to be good enough… not for the academy, not for the public, not for my parents… not for anyone but him or Daisuke. Certainly not good enough for myself, and a laughable effort to one such as the Kaiser. I'll do my best, though at its greatest it's only blowing fragile bubbles into a terrible wind.
What else is there to do?
………………………………………………………………………………………………… …
I suppose this proves to me that if I know where I'm going and sit down and make myself do it, these chapters don't have to take so long coming, do they. ^^;; Actually, they still surprise me. For instance, Daisuke was not supposed to have a pov part in this chapter – I'd planned on making it all Ken, since he had no say last time. I suppose I ought to know better than to think Dai would keep quiet, though, especially by now, which is not to say I'm not grateful for his winding random paragraphs about seemingly nothing. XD They do wonders for my wordcount…
As always, lovies, your input is invaluable…
"So familiar and overwhelmingly warm / (This one,) This form I hold now" is from Tool's Parabol.