Chapter Four: Too Bad
DISCLAIMER: Digimon is owned by Toei and Bandai, and whoever else owns it at this point. Silver Side Up and all song titles are property of Nickelback. Nickelback is property of Roadrunner Records.
The bell rang loudly as the diner door crashed against the inside wall. The various patrons and waitresses looked in the direction of the noise. The man who walked in was a true sight, horrifying and menacing.
Yamato was no longer a rock-star pretty-boy. His blonde hair was tousled and wild, his blue eyes angry and bloodshot. He was paunchy, large and thick-bodied. Stubble covered his lower jaw in a five-o-clock shadow. His blue flannel shirt was buttoned incorrectly, his clothes stained and crumpled.
His feet thudded against the linoleum floor of the diner as he marched towards the front counter.
"Can I help you?" asked the waitress, cowering a little from the wild man.
"Where is she?" Yamato slurred, voice dripping with malice.
The young woman recoiled from the stench of alcohol.
"Who, she?"
"You damn fucking well know!" Yamato exploded. "Where the fuck is Sora!?"
"I don't know," said the waitress. "She just works here, doesn't talk to anyone much. She hasn't come in today, and that's all I know."
"Well if she does, you tell that cunt that she better get her ass home real fucking soon, or it's gonna be trouble."
"I'll do that, sir," the woman said curtly.
"Don't you take some snooty tone with me!" Yamato roared.
The drunken man lashed out, grabbing the woman's blouse. He pulled her close, the stench of booze overwhelming.
"I want to know where the hell she went last night, and if you know a damn thing you'll tell me right now!"
"I don't know where she is!" the woman shrieked.
"Hey buddy, calm down!" a man yelled. "Don't make me call the cops."
Yamato dropped the waitress and whirled on the man, eyes blazing. The eyes that met him were dark and behind a pair of glasses. The man was tall and thin, with short blue hair. He towered over Yamato, but the drunk was far from intimidated.
"Yamato?" gasped the man.
"What's it to ya, stretch?" snarled Yamato.
"I...I...God, what happened to you?"
"Who the hell are you!?"
"It's me...Jyou, Jyou Kido. Kami-sama, you look like hell. Your life has really gone to shit since the reunion, hasn't it?"
Yamato let out a loud roar and his fist swung out, smashing into Jyou's face. The sound of crunching bone, breaking glass, and screaming women all meshed together into a cacophony of noise.
Jyou stumbled back into his seat, clutching his noise. Blood leaked out around his fingers, staining his face and shirt. The lenses of his glasses were broken, though the shards hadn't harmed his eyes. His dark eyes blazed with a fury almost as great as Yamato.
"You hit me?" Jyou snarled, voice muffled by his hand.
"You made me bleed!" Yamato barked, flailing his hand. The glasses had scratched his knuckles. "You faggot bastard, I'll kill ya!"
Another primal snarl rang out in the small diner, overpowering the grunt of pain that Jyou let out as Yamato buried his foot into the doctor's stomach.
"Don't you ever talk to me like that again, you stupid little queer," Yamato sneered, wiping his knuckles with a napkin.
Jyou huddled on the bench seat, his face drenched in red. A pitiful groan split the otherwise silent diner, the crowd shocked beyond all reason.
"You tell me if you see Sora," Yamato barked to the waitress. "You don't, you'll get worse."
And with that, Yamato marched out of the diner. If there was any doubt at all, this dispels it. The Yamato of this fanfic is a brutal, psychopathic wife-beating bastard. Yamato's slurs to Jyou were not meant to be offensive, or insinuate Jyou's sexual preference. This is just more Yamato-being-a-bastard. Things are just going to go down hill from here as we enter chapter five...Just For.
