DISCLAIMER: I do not own Digimon.
WARNING! This story contains homosexual relationships (male x male), aggressive/violent behaviour and excessive swearing. If you're sensitive about any of these subjects, I suggest you don't read. Thanks!
SHADOW OF THE SUN
CHAPTER ONE
He woke to the sound of heavy iron grinding against concrete, and then the sound of his fellow inmates stirring. Springs creaked overhead and then footsteps pounded around him. A moment later, a crackle sounded from the speaker and a booming voice bellowed:
'Alright, ya little dickheads, this is your seven am wake-up call. Get up. Any shit from you guys today, and they'll be trouble.'
There was another crackle from the speaker, and a murmur of annoyance passed through the prison. Overhead, someone threw a plastic cup at the speaker violently and it plummeted to the ground in a clatter.
Yamato remained still in his cell, eyes poised on the crack that ran the length of the wall as the events of yesterday sank in – the court case, the verdict…the 'guilty' that had condemned him to prison for twenty years – and then with a staggered sigh, he pushed himself into a sitting position.
He was calmer than the night before. The initial shock of it all had lessened somewhat, and his mind was clear and sharp. 'One less day to serve,' he thought brightly, only to think a moment late, 'and only seven thousand, two hundred and ninety-nine left to go…'
The cell looked different in day light – smaller. Yamato was sure if he stood upright and held out his hands, he could touch wall to wall with the tips of his fingers. In the corner, a grubby toilet was pressed against the wall, the lid had been ripped off and Yamato could see wads of used toilet paper mounting in a white sludge. A small sink was embedded into the wall just a little from the toilet; the white-china was chipped and stained a dirty yellow-brown, and the tap was rusted and looked to be frozen in place. His bed, if it could be called that, was opposite. Glancing at the thin plastic mattress mounted on a wiry iron-frame and the brown hairy blanket that lay on top of it, Yamato wondered how he was ever going to sleep at night.
Yamato had slept on the floor last night. He'd been too afraid to move in case he'd drawn attention to himself; instead, he'd curled up into a ball on the floor. Now, though, he wished he'd found the courage to move. Every muscle in his body ached from the cold, hard concrete floor, and he'd barely got a wink of sleep.
Groping for the iron frame of his bed, Yamato pulled himself to his feet. For a moment, he felt weak at the knees and his head felt as though it was wedged between a clamp, each thump of his heart sending a wave of searing hot pain shooting through his head. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, pinching the bridge of his nose as the riot in his head began to settle.
After a minute or so, he blinked opened his orbs and nearly gasped out in surprise as his cell blurred into focus and he spotted a man leant against his cell door. He was in his late teens – his golden skin held a youthful glow and his brown eyes were bright and sharp. His burly body was toned and clad in the same neon-orange overall Yamato was wearing (an all in one piece, something similar to a boiler suit), except he had only buttoned the overall to his waist and tied the sleeves in a loose knot around the front. His chest was clothed in a white tank top that showed his muscular physique, and set his tanned skin aglow. The man held no sense of hostility in his demeanour, but as the bushy-haired youth stepped into the grubby little cell, Yamato backed against his bed in fright.
But the brunette posed not threat. He held out a hand in greeting. 'The name's Yagami – what's yours?'
But Yamato was frozen with fear – his heart pounded in terror and his throat was tight – and all he could do was stare at the hand with wide eyes.
After a minute or so, the brunette let his hand fall to his side. Yamato braced himself for irritation or even violence at an extreme, but the man just chuckled. 'Nah,' he said lightly, waving a hand dismissively, 'I wouldn't trust me if I were you either.'
There was a silence then, in which Yagami began to pace around the small cell, inspecting the décor as though it was actually worth inspecting. 'So,' he piped up, after his brown eyes had skimmed over the grotty toilet area and bed that was to be his home for the next twenty years (something which could sadly be done in merely sixty second), 'What you in for? Theft? GBH?'
Yamato's mouth had gone dry. He tried to swallow, but somehow he couldn't. He just stood there, tongue-tied as the brunette stopped at the small rectangular window and peered out. After a moment he glanced back at Yamato and cocked an eyebrow at him.
'Not much of a talker, are you?' Yagami said, his brow crease slightly, 'I guess that's cool I suppose.'
He was pacing again, but this time, as Taichi brushed passed him, Yamato recoiled in fright and lost his footing, tumbling towards the hard concrete floor with a yelp, only to be jolted up right again in an instant. With quick reflexes, Yagami had gripped his upper arm and pulled him to his feet. 'Whoa, steady up,' he said. 'I'm not going to hurt you.'
Yamato felt his face blaze with embarrassment. 'Er…thanks,' he muttered, as he straightened up and brushed at his overall awkwardly.
The brunette just smiled. 'No problem,' he said, his voice cracking slightly. For a moment after, he just stared at him, a look in which baffled Yamato, and then his face creased with laughter. 'You're a first-timer, aren't you?'
Yamato was surprised, and it must've shown on his face because Yagami chuckled. 'It's just…you don't hear 'thanks' often in here, it's just…strange I guess…' he trailed off, shrugging.
Yamato was unsure how to respond to that, but at that moment, a shadow fell over the two. A spunky-looking boy with cinnamon-coloured hair was stood in the doorway. Like Yagami and himself, he was clothed in the neon-orange uniform and had the letters printed C876 on his breast pocket. He glanced at Yamato briefly, before focusing his attention on Yagami.
'Oi, Yagami, let's go,' he said, beckoning him out of the cell with a curt nod of his head.
Yagami nodded, 'Alright, Dai,' but just as he was leaving, he glanced over his shoulder at Yamato. 'Hey, just a bit of advice for you – don't let them see you scared.'
Yamato cleared his throat, finally finding his voice. 'Why?' he whispered gruffly.
'Just trust me – don't.'
There was a hint of seriousness in the boy's voice that unnerved Yamato, and as he got ready to go to breakfast, he couldn't help wondering who he meant by 'them'?
The cafeteria was a horrible dull lime-colour. It was a fairly large room sited on the first floor, and had thick iron bars fixed on the windows and row upon row of grubby green plastic tables to sit at. The food-counter was at the far end of the room, lit up, with a neon sign flashing overhead: 'Queue here'.
Near the front of the queue, Yamato spotted Yagami's wild bush of hair and, a little to his left, Dai, his goggles shimmering in the brisk morning sunlight. The pair were thick in conversation; and as another thickset inmate cut in front – 'Oi, watch it dickhead,' he'd grunted, elbowing in front of him – Yamato suddenly wished he'd been more open to Yagami earlier. Maybe then, they'd call him over, just like at school where Ryu would always let him cut in so they could eat lunch together and scarper off for band practice…
But this was nothing like school. This was prison. And the realisation hit hard and fast as he stared at the grim, cold faces around him. The days of school and band-practise were long gone, and nothing but a long stretch of imprisonment lay out in front of him. He almost felt faint by the very thought of being confined within these sickly green walls for a third of his life, but he was suddenly thrust aside by a beefy-looking man with a bald looking head – 'Get out of my way, cunt,' he spat – and the panic quickly subsided. This was not the time to feel sorry for himself. Not here, not in front of all these people. He would get through this, just like he got through those horrible camps his parents used to send him to. 'Just take it one day at a time,' he thought to himself, 'that's the way to do it.'
When Yamato reached the food counter five minutes later, a dollop of thick lumpy porridge was slopped onto his plate and threw at him. The stocky, round-faced cook was a fellow inmate, but the glare he'd just given him was just as hard as the ones the guards had given him the previous night, and Yamato just knew from the bubbles forming at the corner of his lips, he'd been contemplating whether he could get away with spitting in his food or not. Fortunately, though, one of the guards was loitering menacingly nearby, and all the cook could do was grunt and thrust the plate across the counter (bits of soggy porridge sloping off the plate and onto the counter as he did so) and shout gruffly: 'Next!'
Yamato picked up his bowl of sloop with a sigh and wandered over to the cutlery stand where he grabbed a plastic spoon. Next to the tray, there was a bowl brimming with little packets of sugar. He was just emptying one of the sachets over his porridge when something sharp was thrust into his back.
Yamato froze instantly with fear. For a moment, there was nothing, but then he felt the warmth of a body draw closer, and then a low voice drawl in his ear.
'So you're the new kid. They told me you were pretty, but…' he trailed off with a bitter laugh that sent shivers down Yamato's spine. 'But,' he continued, voice slick and oozing with confidence, 'I never expected this.'
Yamato was unsure what to do or say. He just stood there, his body stiff and heart thumping as he felt a faceless hand slide down the arc of his back and grasp his buttocks forcefully causing him to yelp out.
'So, so beautiful,' the voice continued, drawing himself closer so that Yamato could feel his moist lips brushing against his earlobe and feel his warm body pressed against his back. 'I'm going to enjoy this…every—little—inch of you…'
It was just as Yamato felt the hand slip between his legs (his blue eyes widening in shock as he felt slim fingers brushing against his manhood), did a thunderous clatter of cutlery sound. The intruder jerked away instantly, and Yamato jolted forward, extending his arms just in time to grab the sides of the counter before he crashed headlong into it.
Through the hustle of it all, Yamato heard a familiar voice snarl behind him: 'See you're not wasting any time getting your filthy hands on the newbies, Ichijouji.'
Yamato glanced around. It was Yagami. The loud clatter of cutlery had been the sound of him stacking his dirty plate on the wash pile. He looked different than how Yamato remembered him to be. His bright eyes were now darkened with hatred, and he held himself with a sense of authority that hadn't been there earlier. His bulging arms were crossed over his broad chest, and his jaw was set aggressively. Just behind him, stood Dai. He, too, had his arms crossed, but he seemed to lack the essence of power that Yagami did.
Ichijouji was stood opposite the pair, a little from Yamato himself. He was a tall and lean boy with long black hair that hung just passed his jaw. His face was long and narrow, and his dark, almost black eyes, peered out through loose bangs conceitedly. He was not at all an unattractive man, but the glimmer of arrogance in his eyes and the smug pull of his lips seemed to override his splendour somehow. As he spotted the pair, he sighed heavily, almost as though he was annoyed at being interrupted.
'Isn't that rich coming from you, Yagami?' he drawled. 'I heard you were the first one on him this morning.'
Yagami smirked slightly. 'Only to warn him of you, obviously.'
Ichijouji mirrored his smirk. 'Of course, of course,' he mimicked, nodding. 'Though I wouldn't have blamed you, he is a fine piece of arse, don't you think?'
Yagami's eyes flashed in a way that could mean nothing good, and he opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment, the speaker above them crackled, the booming voice drowned out his words.
'All right, you little dicks, it's time to get to work,' the speaker rattled out, 'all you new 'uns report to the main gate to be assigned to a job. Any messing around from any of ya and you'll be down the hole, hear that?'
The speaker crackled again and the voice was gone. The inmates began to stir grudgingly, gathering up their cutlery and making there way over to where they were stood.
Ichijouji suddenly sighed deeply beside Yamato, drawing his attention back to him. 'Well it looks like we'll have to continue this later, sweetheart,' he purred, and it took Yamato a moment to realise he was talking to him. It took him a moment further to realise that Ichijouji was kissing him. It was nothing more than a mere peck, but Yamato's insides cringe with disgust and he jerked away instantly. To his surprise, there wasn't an ounce of anger on Ichijouji's face, instead, he chuckled heartily, his eyes alight with glee. 'Don't you just love it when they play hard to get?' he grinned, laughter in his voice as he directed the question to Yagami and Dai. He turned back to Yamato and winked. 'See you soon, babe.'
He turned on his heel then, smiling in a gloating sort of fashion as he pushed his way between Yagami and Dai and into the throng of inmates who were all proceeding towards the exit in haste.
As Ichijouji passed, Dai threw Ichijouji a dirty look. 'Fucking prick,' he spat.
Yagami, on the other hand, remained motionless, his face deadpan. As soon as the dark-haired boy was out of view, his attention turned to Yamato. Expecting some concern, or even polite remark, Yamato was surprised when Yagami's voice held a note of hostility:
'If you don't do something about that little shithead soon,' he growled, 'he'll make you his bitch and they'll be nothing you, I or the screws can do about it. You'll be sucking his dick, taking it up the arse or even eating his shit if that's what he wants. No one and nothing can stop him. Is that what you really want to be doing for the next couple of years? Is it? I suggest you think about that.'
And just like that, he whirled round on his heel and strode off. It was almost as though he was angry at Yamato. The gleam in his eye had been nothing short of irritation and Yamato was sure it'd been directed towards him rather than Ichijouji, but he couldn't fathom out what he had, or hadn't, done to stir such a reaction.
He glanced at Dai, who smiled at him kindly, awkwardly almost. 'Just kick him in the balls or summut,' he suggested, shrugging. 'Well, that's what I'd do.'
Yamato didn't answer (partially because he wasn't sure what to say, and partially because Yamato was still in shock from it all). An unpleasant pause drew out between then, one in which Dai shifted uncomfortably on the spot, visibly unsure of what to do or say. After a second or two, the spunky-haired boy gestured to the exit with his arms. 'Well, er, I've gotta get to work before they shove me in the hole – good luck.'
And he left as swiftly as Yagami had left, leaving Yamato alone in an empty cafeteria with nothing but his thoughts and fears for company.
Author's Notes:
Evil Ken :x
I thought I should just mention the reason I made Ken evil before people flame me. Firstly, I'd like to say I like ken, but I like evil ken better, and secondly, I wanted to make it forbidden for Daisuke to like ken (and there I go ruining the plot :x)
Thanks for the reviews guys!
DarkMetalAngel of Destruction: Thanks for your review:)
Xiamandelaine: I'm glad you liked it! Only hope this meets your expectations :s Anyway, thanks for taking the time to review, I appreciate it. :)
Btw, expect an update in about a weeks time – I have a tonne of coursework (cries)
