Author's Note: Thank you all for your reviews/concerns/sympathy. My grandma's doing relatively better now, having completed two treatments of chemo. They are letting her go home for a while, before continuing with the treatments. It's really difficult to treat this type of cancer because there is no tumor, and the doctors said there's no chance of her being rid of the cancer at all. I cried when I heard that. They are trying to extend her life span, that's all they can do. I know death is inevitable. But this is too sudden...too soon. She's only 72 years old. Grandma is as dear to me as my mother. I can't bear the thought of losing her. There's still time though, maybe a couple of years, and I intend to waste none of it.
I'm sorry about your grandfather, YamatoFangirl. I can only offer you and your family my deepest sympathies.
Everything's so depressing these days...including this story...
My Inferno
Chapter Seven
The outside world had turned dark and quiet by the time Yamato woke up. He felt a tiny bit better, comforted, even. He'd dreamed that Taichi was here, that he'd been safe and warm in the arms of paradise. Because that's what paradise was, wasn't it? A soft soothing voice and gentle hands. There's no pain when Taichi's here, not in his dreams.
Yamato was perfectly fine with dreams.
He knew who he really was, despised himself with all his heart. And once Taichi found out how weak he really was, how disgustingly pathetic, then Taichi would despise him too, the way Mother despised him, the way TK...
Yamato drew a sharp breath and stopped that train of thought. He wouldn't be able to bear it if Taichi turned out to be like TK. And he was sure the other boy would. Because that's what people did, wasn't it? Gained power over his heart for the sole purpose of shattering it. And it was terribly amusing for them to watch, when he lay bleeding at their feet like a tiny broken toy, and they laughed when he screamed, because they liked-
Yamato curled up and drew the blanket over his head. He didn't want to be hurt again.
A sudden chill overtook his entire body. How long had he slept? When was Father coming home? He hadn't cleaned the mess of broken china in the kitchen, hadn't done anything, in fact...
Yamato scrambled out of the sofa and dashed for the kitchen, heedless of his protesting body. He turned on the lights.
And froze.
The floor was clean, sparkling, actually. The dishes had been washed and dried, the food placed in proper containers and neatly covered. A quick look around the rest of the apartment told him the bathroom had been cleaned, and his homework was laid out neatly for him on his desk.
His body swayed dangerously as Yamato finally realized the truth. It wasn't a dream. Taichi had been here. Yamato didn't know what he said to the other boy, or even if he talked in his sleep. What if Taichi knew? What if he found out?
"Leave me alone," Yamato whispered to the darkness.
OOOOOO
"There are two of him. The Yama he wants you to see, and the Yama he really is. But what he himself doesn't understand is that over time they've become one, and that throwing away the mask now would be as painful and destructive as cutting off his right hand. It made him stronger, the ice and the walls and the cruelty that sometimes shines so brightly in his eyes. It is also killing him."
- from The Soul of Yama, as was written by Yagami Taichi
OOOOOO
Have to keep going...can't stop...one foot in front of the other...it's not difficult Ishida...
Yamato stopped anyway. His breathing was shallow, and his arms trembled with the weight of the grocery bags. The world passed him by. He wanted to give up, wanted to let go.
Someone bumped into him as he stood in the middle of the sidewalk, sending one of his bags flying.
Yamato stared at it blankly for a moment, feeling detached. He reached over slowly to pick it up with one pale hand, stopping abruptly when a tanned hand picked it up instead.
Brown eyes stared sternly at him.
"What do you think you are doing out here?" Taichi demanded, "And without a jacket!"
Yamato scowled, and tried to get the bag from Taichi. The other boy swung it out of his reach, however, and took the rest of Yamato's burdens as well.
"Answer my question."
Why must Taichi always be so irritating? Couldn't he see what Yamato was doing? What, the blonde was just carrying things in bags for fun?
"I went shopping," he said crossly, but didn't feel like being sarcastic at the moment. It took too much energy.
Taichi set the bags down on the ground, took off his own jacket, and draped it around Yamato's shoulders. "C'mon," he said. "I'll take you home."
Yamato didn't nearly like that idea as much as the alternative, which involved grabbing his stuff and punching Taichi in the face. The other boy was treating him like a child, and whatever else he might be, Ishida Yamato was not a child.
"I'm perfectly fine on my own," he replied harshly.
Taichi merely sighed, picked up all the bags in one hand, and reached out to take Yamato's arm. A brief struggle ensued, in which Yamato was stubborn and fierce while Taichi was patient and gentle. The little fight ended abruptly when a violent and painful coughing fit seized Yamato's thin form, and he lost his balance.
Taichi caught him.
"Let me go," the blonde gasped when he could speak again.
"You can hardly stand," Taichi seemed angry. "You are extremely sick. What possessed you to even think about going out?"
"Had to go shopping..." Yamato mumbled weakly.
He shivered in Taichi's arms and the other boy held him tighter. The part of him that could still think properly knew this was dangerous. Any contact with Taichi was dangerous. He should get away, but his muscles had ceased to obey his will.
Taichi had dropped everything during Yamato's short period of violence. He picked the stuff up now, and keeping an arm around Yamato's waist in a way that was almost possessive, he helped the blonde to a nearby bench.
"Why are you being so nice?" Yamato resisted the urge to simply melt into Taichi's inviting warmth. Frozen. He was supposed to be frozen.
"Is it wrong to be nice to you?"
There was a heavy silence.
Yamato stared at a bit of yellowing grass. "Autumn is the season in which all things die."
He'd wanted to startle Taichi with that phrase. Even now he wanted to push and push until the other boy gave up.
But Taichi smiled kindly, tenderly, and there was that affection again. The meaning behind that smile frightened him more than anything else.
"Not all things die young, Yama-chan."
And Yamato wanted to scream at him, wanted to wrap his arms around Taichi's neck and sob and sob and sob. He felt hysterical, because nothing would ever be all right, nothing had ever been all right. Taichi didn't know, couldn't even guess! What it felt like to want, with every fiber of his being, to die. Because there's absolutely no other way...
He smiled back instead, coldly, because he was still frozen, and whatever pain he felt inside wouldn't leak out. Ever.
Father was home when they got to his apartment.
Yamato felt like laughing. It was so funny. Everything was so funny. But his eyes were serious when he looked at Taichi and asked without words for the other boy to leave.
"Since when are you allowed to bring friends home, Yamato?"
Amazing how malice could be expressed so calmly.
"I'm talking to you, Yamato."
Taichi shielded Yamato from it all, as if he could honestly help.
"Go home," Yamato said, in a way that was not like him at all. And Taichi understood some of it, maybe all of it, because his eyes spoke a thousand promises when he left.
Yamato laughed then, as Father came closer with murder in his eyes, and he didn't know why.
OOOOOO
"He thought he was so clever. He honestly believed I couldn't read his eyes. As if I couldn't see death trapped in sapphire, as if I was blind to the anguish twisting his face...I knew then, clever Yama-chan. You betrayed yourself after all. That night on the bench when you wanted to do so many things, but did nothing at all, that night when I saw the truth in your Father's eyes.
Sometimes I hate myself for not seeing it sooner, for letting Yama suffer so long. But I know it's a miracle that I saw it at all, for he hid so well. And the worst part was he wanted to suffer. He didn't know it himself, but he thought he deserved the punishment when no soul should ever have to live like that, with that. It is both the most beautiful and the most tragic thing about him. Given multiple numbers of roads, Yama would undoubtfully choose the hardest one. You could say he's trying to redeem himself, like Hercules and his labours. But I know better. Yama's lost without pain.
Oh my little Yama-chan, if only you would take the tears I shed for you. If only you had stayed an angel in heaven. If only I could take you away to the river of forgetfulness...
And tell you a thousand times, I love you."
-from The Soul of Yama, as was written by Yagami Taichi
OOOOOO
Author's Note: :::Wails::: Yama, what have I done to you?! Wwwwwwwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!
Rubisco. ::sniff::: Is. An. :::blows nose::: Enzyme.