Author's Note - /Peeks out cautiously at angry readers/ Hee hee, long time no see /Ducks as rotten vegetables are thrown/ Well, there was an...English essay, and...midterms...and...I had...a cold! That's right, a cold which affected my typing capabilities and rendered me creatively helpless! And then I had to have writer's block for a long long time...that's right...
You guys don't believe me, do you? - /Runs away/
Thank you to all those who reviewed.
In response to individual reviews:
Xubose - /Goes down on both knees and begs for forgiveness/ Sorry, sorry. Still alive here. You really don't have to worry about me leaving this story unfinished. I'm a perfectionist who annoys the hell out of me on a regular basis. And I can't imagine leaving anything, even if it's just my crappy writing, unfinished. Worry about how long I take finishing it, though, that's more of a problem...
Hirui: Updating...right now...
FairyofTwilight: I'd take Pocky. I love Pocky. And bribery works...fairly well...
Geminidragon: I'm sorry about your loss, and I guess it is better, in some ways, to know what is coming. Who can live forever?
KazamaFangirl - /Shies away from the super sharp knives/ You said in another review that you didn't like "The Taito Project". I'm not the least bit offended, but I sort of want to know why. Is there anything I should improve on? I would appreciate it if you could give me some constructive criticism. Much thanks!
My Inferno
Chapter Nine
He didn't wake up for a long time.
For days Taichi sat by that hateful hospital bed in that hateful hospital room, watching the feeble rise and fall of Yama's thin chest. The blonde looked dead in the white bed, surrounded by white blankets, golden hair spilled over white pillows. Taichi longed to see the alarmingly pale face dusted with rose, like when Yama blushed, longed to smooth over the cracks of his dry lips.
The doctors had given them a long list.
Severe physical and emotional exhaustion, lack of sleep, malnutrition, extreme illness, infection of various knife wounds, severe bruising, internal injuries...
Taichi wanted to cry.
A hand landed on his shoulder. Taichi looked up to see his mother's kind face. "It's all right," she drew him close. "I won't let anyone hurt him again."
The authorities had been informed, of course. Taichi had made sure Yama was never going to go back to his home again.
Wake up, he thought silently. Hate me if you have to, but please just wake up.
There was something broken about the way Yama slept.
OOOOOO
It hurt.
Every inch of him. He wanted it to stop.
It hurt.
So difficult to breathe properly. He felt as if his lungs had stopped functioning. His eyes were too heavy for him to open. His own heart beat sounded slow in his ears, painful. Thump...thump...thump...
"...Therefore confess thee freely of thy sin. For to deny each article with Oath...Cannot remove nor choke the strong conception...That I do groan withal...Thou art to die..."
He couldn't understand the words. Could barely grasp the existence of the sound. But the voice was familiar, comforting. He clung to it.
"...Then Lord have mercy on me..."
Soft, that voice, so tender. He wished it were speaking to him, speaking for him. He wanted it to caress the torn shreds of his soul, wanted...something.
A pause in the flow of words. Yamato frowned a little.
"Please wake up, Yama. Please." He'd never heard so much desperation in anyone's voice. "I love you."
Something stopped in him. Something made him stiffen at those three little words. A moment of recollection, a moment of realization and heart wrenching agony, and then the darkness conquered him once more.
OOOOOO
"You are reading Shakespeare to him."
Taichi smiled faintly at his sister, not responding to the comment.
"Othello? Really Taichi, you should read him something cheerful. Shakespeare's tragedies are too heavy for the heart. Try a comedy. A Midsummer Night's Dream or Much Ado About Nothing."
She watched as he brushed a strand of Yamato's hair out of his face, the touch of his hand as gentle as a soft breeze. "Yama doesn't understand comedies, Kari. There's so much more beauty in a tragedy. Yama sees that."
She couldn't help it. Hikari bit back a choked gasp and left the room. She locked herself in the bathroom and let the tears come.
Please. Let them be okay. Let everyone be okay.
OOOOOO
The voice was back.
It left him for a while and he felt lost. But now it came back, and things were calm again. It felt strange to not have a face match the voice. He wanted to see...
Yamato tried to open his eyes. The voice faltered.
He opened them just slightly, but the blinding light forced them closed again. The voice stopped.
No! He thought. Don't go. Don't leave me when I haven't even see you.
He forced his eyes open.
Sunlight. Brilliant, golden sunlight. And a tanned face. Chocolate eyes.
It took a moment. Only a moment.
Taichi.
Memories, emotions, tears. Yamato trembled.
"Yama," he now had a face to match the voice, all right. He wished he had never woken up.
"Go away," he whispered hoarsely. Fear made his heart beat faster. He couldn't breathe.
I don't want to be hurt anymore. I don't want...
He shrank away from the other boy's touch and curled up tightly on his side.
I don't want to live.
OOOOOO
"Angels are full of forgiveness. You should know, Yama-chan. You are an angel. And surely you can forgive me for this little sin, of wanting to keep you, forever and ever."
- from The Soul of Yama, as was written by Yagami Taichi
OOOOOO
Yamato sat in his bed, leaning against an impossible number of soft pillows, bandaged hands folded neatly in his lap. The hospital gown hung too loosely over his frame. His room was no longer white. It resembled a garden of red roses, actually. Thanks to his fans.
Years ago, when some part of him was still alive, Yamato might have looked at the flowers. He might have cradled them, now that he finally had time, now that he was finally allowed to touch something so beautiful. But he didn't notice them. For days now he hadn't said a word, hadn't looked anyone in the face. He was determined to ignore the world.
It was strangely comforting to stay in the same position for so long, to be warm all the time, to simply be without having to struggle for every moment of every day. He wouldn't have to think as long as he stayed like this, wouldn't have to admit he needed anything, anyone.
But he listened to Taichi's voice when the other boy read to him, closed his eyes when Taichi touched him. His heart beat too loudly when Taichi wasn't there. His hands trembled when strangers talked to him.
"I got you something."
He almost smiled, could almost feel the tiny sad curve upon his lips, but his mouth remained frozen. What did you bring me, Tai?
Something was brought up to his line of sight, and he focused on it, slowly.
It was another rose, white to contrast the crimson of his room. Yamato looked away as if burned by the beauty of its soft curves, by the innocence of its existence.
Taichi brought it close again. "It's for you."
He flinched when the other boy touched his shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut. I don't want to think about it. Don't make me think.
"Everything's going to be beautiful for you now, Yama. I'll make sure of it."
I don't want anything to be beautiful. I just want to stop feeling like...this.
Soft lips brushed against his cheek. His breath hitched in his throat.
"I'm not going to let you fade, Yama. Never."
A tear slid along his smooth skin. I hate you. I hate you and I need you and I can't stop doing everything you want me to do...
Taichi caught the tear with the rose. "Open your eyes, Yama. You have to try, for me."
"It's too hard," Yamato whispered.
"Sometimes, things have to get worse, before they can get better."
Yamato buried his face against Taichi's chest, and cried.
OOOOOO
"I know him. He wanted to be loved, once. He wanted to be beautiful. He wanted to be free. Perhaps it's not too late. Perhaps I can still save the part of him I love most. My tragedy, that's what he is. My precious tragedy which will never end, so long as I am here, to hold it."
- from The Soul of Yama, as was written by Yagami Taichi
OOOOOO
Rubisco. Is. An. Enzyme.