I'm What?
By theladyknight
Disclaimer: Digimon, Disney, or any movies mentioned—not mine!
Calare: Missing a plane is not fun. I've never had it happen to me, but it almost did on Monday night. Fortunately, the airline held the plane for my class—all 40 of us—and, after it got delayed again, we finally got on.
Mrs. Ishida-to-you: No, I went to OaxacaMexico City and Acapulco, all in southern Mexico. Yep, I wanted something funny, and I watched Rat Race twice this summer; it just fit.
Jilliana: Thanks for all the compliments!
Cute-Funky-guRL: You'll find out eventually.
And thanks to: Twilight, KoumiLoccness, sorato-takari and Wishinstahhz.
Chapter 20: Of Christmas Wishes
Monday December 23
The Castle Dining Room
As a kid, I absolutely loved all those classic Disney movies. Mom and I would spend hours upon hours in front of our television, watching in anticipation, hoping and praying happily ever after would come true.
But the thing I loved above all others—including the humorous characters, dashing princes and heroic underdogs—happened to be the opening scene of every movie. Each sitting, I waited impatiently for the breathtaking castle to unfold on the screen.
The concept of a castle, given its medieval connotation, has always attracted my interest. I would always imagine what a real life castle looked like, secretly fantasizing it would be a bit like a fairly tale image.
While it may not be from the clips of "Cinderella" or "Sleeping Beauty", the royal family's home—my future home—is phenomenal!
We spent the rest of yesterday sunning, surfing, burning (in Tai's case) and resting on the beach. It was nice to be there and relax, forgetting about all the drama and chaos in the world, welcomed into an almost Shangri-La by paradise's warm arms.
The afternoon was spent enjoying Mother Nature's gifts of beauty, tranquility and heaven. I, along with the others, alternated between swimming and building sandcastles. In the midst of things, Dad and I managed to find time to catch up.
"Comó estás mi princesa pequeña?" How are you my little princess?
"Asi-asi." Okay. "I just wish Yamato was here."
Dad's eyes narrowed at the blonde's name. He is still not crazy about the idea of Yamato and me. Already, in a matter of three hours, he's threatened to send the army, navy, air force and royal guards out to get him and bring him here to be interrogated. My father is so protective of me guy-wise. Poor Takeru and Taichi are learning that.
While we've all proclaimed—on more than one occasion—that Tai and I aren't together, Dad seems to bring up the topic quite a lot. And the lone blond is constantly drilled with questions regarding his brother.
"Papá…ser simpático!" Dad, be nice!
His response was a stubborn glare, one Mom constantly blames on him for passing onto me. "It's getting a bit late. Let's go back to the castle…"
The castle.
As cliché as it is, I don't really know where to begin describing it. The place is unlike the gothic architecture normally associated with "the castle."
It was inspired by the local artisans, probably as it was not originally intended to be for royalty. Originally, the royal castle of PPI was a convent for nuns, set in stone when the first people came over from Spain. But things changed after the civil war, my ancestors deciding this convent was the perfect place to call home.
It's really quite unique, this castle. While most castles are gigantic and growing increasingly modern, ours has stayed true to its first roots, for the most part. The front doors are made of a shiny pinewood, accented with rich red paint—the ancient people's color of royalty—and are tall enough for an army of giants to walk through. The main hallway leads into an open courtyard with a huge fountain. All around the bottom floor is a conglomeration of rooms, none of which I've managed to explore.
Yet.
Looking directly up, there is a spacious glass dome that separates the outside from the inside. It didn't used to be there, but Mother Nature had her way. A set of spiral staircases, one on the left and one on the right, lead up to the second floor. It, just like the first floor, contains room after room of who knows what. There's also a nice view of the bottom floor and the humongous pool, separated from the main entrance with the fountain by a wall.
My room is located up the last set of stairs, buried snugly in a corner of the third floor. I nearly missed it the first time Antonio pointed it out. Now let me tell you, it's probably the coolest room in the whole place. Venturing outside it, I have this huge-ass balcony with this phenomenal view of the castle grounds, beach and ocean. I could stand up there for hours at a time and not get bored. I also have access to the outside, as the staircase leading up to my room is actually located outside.
How cool!
And better yet, I'm kind of isolated from everyone. "You are at the farthest corner of the castle. Your room is the most distance from your grandmother's," Antonio informed me with a hint of a smile.
That's well worth it.
To tell you the truth, it kind of sucks having no one around me, but I bet I'll appreciate the solitude later. Inside, my room is as unbelievable as the exterior. The walls are a light shade of crème, and there is a gigantic, old-fashioned canopy bed. The rugs on it have an almost Persian-like look. Shades of bright colors highlight the bed, giving it a look as if the sunrise hits it first, allowing the room to bathe and dance in its glory.
A wooden desk made by artisans on the Isle rests gently in the corner with a comfortable chair beside it. I have a huge table, shining sun inside the glass counter, surrounded by oak. The chairs match the décor of the room. An almost big screen plasma television sticks out like a sore thumb but gives the room a slightly twenty-first century look.
It's amazing how much different it is than my room in Chicago. Chicago and PPI…they're like the antithesis of each other. I, before this ordeal was revealed to the press, made a list of the pros and cons of being a princess and having to move. Dad has told me his decision will come at the Birthday Bash.
Could he make me stay? Does he have the authority to do so? Do I want to stay here? I'll admit it's the epitaph of paradise, but I don't want to leave the Windy City and everything I know.
Yet…
In the whole time I've known Antonio, I have never seen him behave this strangely. Grams pulled me aside, having noticed the same thing. She blamed it on the fact he hadn't seen his family in ages.
It finally happened.
We got to meet his family. They weren't quite what I expected, particularly for Yo.
"Princesa Sora y su amigos…quiero presentarle a mi familia. Ella es mi esposa, Carmen. Sus hijos son Ava y Miguel. Ava tiene quince años. Miguel tiene ocho años." Princess Sora and your friends…I want to introduce my family. She is my wife, Carmen. Our children are Ava and Miguel. Ava is fifteen. Miguel is eight.
"Encantada," I'm charmed.
Carmen curtsied before me. "Antonio has only said good things about you since he began his job. It will be a pleasure to have you as our future ruler."
I blushed, feeling my face match my hair and eye color. I must look like an overripe tomato. "Muchos gracias, Carmen." My gaze shifted to my babysitter. "Yo, you said something nice about me?"
He rolled his eyes, a bit of his normal nature returning. "Sí, Princesa. As hard as it is to believe…"
I studied the two children. Both took after their mother appearance-wise. Jet black hair, dark long lashes and a gorgeous olive complexion complimented their features. They were lucky to have such nice looks.
The girl just stared at me, shooting a do-I-care look in my direction. "Ava, introduce yourself."
"It's an undying pleasure to meet you, Princess."
She's got her father's dry humor.
"Ava, outside now!"
As she suckled off, I noticed another thing. She's got her father's moodiness too.
"Ignore her," Carmen cautioned. "She has been very rude lately."
"Princesa, mi nombre es Miguel."
"Holá, Miguel."
He smiled cutely at me, face flushing a bit. "I think you'll be a good princess. Usted es," he hesitated, "muy bonita." You are very pretty.
Now, I look like a sun burnt, overripe tomato ready to be turned into ketchup. Miguel ran off as his mom and my parents laughed. Tai, Kari, and Takeru—none being too fluent in Spanish—were a bit lost. "It looks like my son has a crush on you, Princesa."
Understanding, Taichi began to laugh. "Go Sora! You're just a guy magnet. Who's next? Uh…hehehe…I'll be outside, uh, examining the garden."
My bushy-haired friend sprinted off as fast as he could run. I looked over at Dad. Yep, he's mentally summoning his top war generals. Tai better watch out…
One ring. Two rings. Three rings.
Pick up please.
"Ishidas…" a voice panted out.
"Mrs. Ishida, it's Sora. Have you…"
"…Yamato showed up a little while ago…"
"…can I talk to him?"
"I'm sorry; he left twenty minutes ago for the airport."
"The airport?" My heart leapt. "Is he trying to…"
"…trying, but I don't know if he'll be able to. With Christmas being so close and…"
"…there's no direct plane to the Isle…"
"…I warned him about that before he left, but he vowed he would make it there no matter what."
I sighed into the phone and could tell Mrs. Ishida was smiling. "Once Yamato sets his mind to something…"
"…he never changes it. That's my stubborn son in a nut shell. I've never seen him this determined before, though. He always puts a bit more effort into things regarding you."
My face heated up AGAIN. Now, in addition to making ketchup, I could supply enough red for tomato soup. What's next? Spaghetti sauce? "Does he have his cell?"
"I'm sorry; it's here charging right now."
I bit my lip. "Can you tell him I called?"
"Of course…do you want him to call back?"
"If it's not a problem…"
"…for you; believe me, he will call. Goodbye, Sora."
"Goodbye, Mrs. Ishida."
Wednesday December 25 Christmas
Main Ballroom
Christmas festivities are slowing down. It's been unbelievable seeing everything everyone does down her for Christmas. It's so unlike things in America.
At home, Mom and I usually sit around the house, opening up presents and relaxing before driving across the city to spend the day with some of her friends. Christmas is a casual affair.
Unlike here.
Starting on the sixteenth, or so Yamato tells me, the children reenact the journey of Mary and Joseph and, later, the nativity of Jesus every night for nine nights. Catholicism is large on the Isle. While Dad may not practice it faithfully, he attends mass two times a year. It was a new experience for Mom, the others and myself, but it was very interesting.
We all exchanged gifts this morning, though it's not customary for this day here on PPI. Taichi, Hikari and Takeru all went in together to buy me a collection of my favorite DVD's. My room here also has an enormous entertainment center, and until now, I had only a small handful of choices to watch.
Dad—considering he is a king and all—has given me a signed permission slip allowing for my friends to come here and visit at certain intervals each year. Apparently he's made his decision regarding my future.
As expected, Grams bought me a huge shopping spree at one of the Isle's premier boutiques. "You'll just love it," she gushed.
I'm sure I will.
Antonio didn't have something for me. Yet. "Wait a few days, Princesa. You will get your present before the gala."
Unsure what he was alluding to, I settled in admiring the card Miguel had given to me. It was adorably sweet. His face matched the evil sunburn that was threatening to peel on Taichi's back.
Carmen gave me a necklace she had made a few weeks ago. Bits of bright, shiny coral highlighted it. Her daughter had nothing for me, not that I expected it. For some reason she obviously hates me. But I'm going to get to the bottom of it.
Mom and Mr. R. purchased some of my favorite candy from Chicago. And get this…Mr. R. brought a GUITAR with him. "I figured you could play your song for us here."
"But I can't! Yamato's going to sing it while I play."
Dad, who had been a bit bored up until this point, suddenly became interested. "What are you going to play, Sora?"
"If I can play an instrument and show that I have a knowledge of it, I don't have to take Mr. R's class second semester. I'm going to play guitar." But if I have to live here, I won't have to worry about Music Appreciation.
"That's wonderful, Sora! I'm proud of you for taking an initiative to learn an instrument. That could benefit you greatly in the future."
Yes, Dad. It was the underlying meaning of everything. I'm taking this class and doing this for that purpose.
"But Mr. Reynolds," I tried, "I won't be able to sing because…"
"…yes, Yamato's not here, but you can do it, Sora. You obviously know the song if you're playing it."
Is the irony trying to bite me in the ass or something?
"Sora, you have a very nice voice…"
Of course you'll tell your daughter that.
"…and I look forward to seeing you perform. Why, I'll schedule it for Saturday. Do you think that would be sufficient, Carl?"
So, they're on a first name, best buddy basis already?
"That's a great idea, King Haruhiko. I'm sure Sora will pass with flying colors."
Pass? Yeah, pass out, maybe.
What am I going to do?
Saturday December 30
My Room
My knees and feet won't stop shaking. I can't calm down. Dad arranged for me to play the unknown song in exactly forty minutes. How am I going to pull this one off?
Things have been crazy here. Yamato still hasn't returned my call. I tried again on the twenty-sixth, but no one was home. The story was the same the following day. So now I have something else to worry about along with the music thing.
Kari came up to visit me once again, but I told her I prefer to sulk in solitude. Apparently, according to her news, it seems like there's a bunch of people there and more are coming.
To watch me fail and flop on my face.
What is the public, whom I'm sure is well represented, going to think when the king boasts about how well his daughter, heir to the throne of their kingdom, can play guitar and sing when they see me actually perform? Why can't things be easy? Why can't I just play this song in a room in front of Mr. R., get laughed at, forced to take the class—should I still be in Chicago to actually take the class—and get it over with? Why can't Yama be here to sing the song for me? His voice would distract people from my nervous, unsure playing, taking a lot of the pressure off of me.
Now it seems I'm the moody, pessimistic one rather than Ava. If nothing else, I at least accomplished what I set to find out about her.
We had literally run into each other the other day. She was going up the same staircase I was trudging down. There are two separate staircases to three separate floors yet we choose to be going opposite directions on one. Obviously the Fates wanted this encounter.
"Watch, oh…sorry Princesa."
She began to get up, ready to move on, pretending my existence wasn't there. Now, I won't tolerate that kind of rude behavior. Me being a princess or not.
"What's your problem?"
"Excuse me?" Her hands found her hips, resting indignantly there, a defiant look burning in her eyes.
"You heard me. You hardly know me, and here you are being a rude…pardon my French…bitch. I haven't done anything to irritate you or deserve this kind of treatment."
She chose not to say anything. Now, we were locked in a staring contest, a battle of wits over words. My eyes, fiery from the anger and passion of my argument, were glued to hers, unwilling to break free. She showed the same venom, dark eyes turning from a light chocolaty substance into dark, bitter chocolate. A grandfather clock ticked defiantly in the background, making it seem like time had somehow slowed down to those slow motion scenes in a movie. If this continued, I was going to break out one of those wild Matrix moves and teach her a thing or two about respect.
But it didn't have to come to that. She was the first to surrender, apparently deciding our battle was too petty for her interests. That or she just couldn't hold on any longer. She turned her back to me, prepared to venture up the steps, probably headed to one of the rooms I still had yet to explore. "You do deserve it,"
My eyebrows scrunched up in complete confusion. "I do? Why?" I grabbed onto her shoulder, keeping her from fleeing the scene of the could-sooner-or-later-be accident.
"Like you don't know," The hesitation in her voice was evident. It was like she expected me to know and really didn't want to breach the subject. But I wasn't going there, and if I was going to be left in the dark about God knows what else here on the Isle—and also soon to make a complete fool and moron of myself—I was going to get to the bottom of this. "No, I really don't know. So would you mind telling me before I get even more confused."
"Because…" I was surprised my little monologue got through to her, but apparently she was squealing like one of the Three Little Pigs, afraid the wolf would catch them. "…you stole my father from me."
Now, there were hundreds of reasons I thought she could have been jealous of me. Most of them resolved on the fact that I was a princess—even though, believe me that is not something to be jealous about, particularly with my grandmother. I even ventured to guess she was jealous I had close friends of both genders and was involved in a—hopefully—long-term relationship.
Her words echoed around the stairs, and I wasn't sure I heard her right at first. Her response was not what I expected. "Stealing your father…um, I'm not sure I understand."
"Dad's been gone for the past five months helping your father with this top secret work. Suddenly, out of the blue, King Haruhiko announces he has a daughter none of us know about, and he and my dad are going to visit her. How do you think I feel when Dad is gone for a few months? Sure, he calls and writes, but it's not the same!" Her anger exploded in her words. The volcano inside her, rivaling the legendary stories of Pompeii, seemed ready to spit and spew its burning lava of hate and jealousy in my direction, burying me forever. "He always talks about you. "Princesa Sora this…she's so intelligent…she'll become a fantastic queen…I worry about the Princesa." Do you know how it feels to hear him talk about you all the time? It's like he forgets he has a daughter of his own. Do I ever hear a "I'm so proud of Ava…she's such a great daughter."? No! All I ever hear about it you and the things you do. I just want my dad to pay some attention to Miguel and me. We're his kids; you aren't! He just met you!"
I let her words sink in. Originally, as I've stated before, I just assumed she was jealous of the new girl—the girl who just happened to, against her will, be a princess. "Well, it's not like I asked for any of this to happen. It just did. Do you know what it's like to have all this happen to me? My life has been hell over the past few months; it's not like things have been particularly easy for me. Your dad has been one of the nicest people to me, one of the few people who treat me for me. Antonio is more like an older brother to me. I'll admit, it's nice to have someone older to act like a protective figure. Before this huge storm of unbelievable news hit, I got to see my father two times a year if I was lucky. Now, I'm still somewhat tied to him but being around Antonio makes me feel like I'm closer to Dad because of Antonio's job for him." The words flowed out of my mouth like a river entering an ocean. "Your dad has been such a great person to me. He got my obnoxious grandmother to change her mind. She tried to force me to have ridiculous lessons day and night. Antonio got me out of them. His reason—it most definitely wasn't because I was nice to him; I was anything but that—was you. Yo's talked to me a couple of times about you and your brother, and he gushes on for hours. I have to tell him to shut up sometimes because he rambles on about the same thing."
A light laugh escaped her lips, one that neither of us had been expecting. "He did?"
"He loves you very much, Ava. You'll see it more as things return back to normal."
She was quiet for a moment. It was her turn to be the sponge, listening to everything I said and soaking it all in. "Thank you, Princesa." She turned and fled like Cinderella after she had lost her glass slipper—only Ava went up the stairs into one of the unknown rooms.
I could understand her reasons for leaving, though. I mean, who wouldn't do the same after accusing someone of doing something they didn't do? I have a feeling things will be smoother between the two of us in the future. It will just take a little time…
So, one problem is done. Now that leaves the rest. I can worry about Yamato and all the things related to him later. That includes the fact he hasn't called. Has something happened? Does he not want to be with me? Is…I need to focus on something else. Don't let worrying get to you, Sora. Right now…
Oh shit. Mom just came in to get me. I'm going to get laughed out of this country. People won't want me to be their future queen after they see what an ass I make of myself. There's no way I can survive this. Do I maybe have a look alike that is a magnificent musician like in all those movies? Is there anyway I can get out of this?
They're calling for me again. This is not going to be pretty…
A/N: Two chapters left! Things are finally wrapping up. This story's been on a long ride—over a year—and I think it's due time for it to end. A lot of this chapter was inspired by my trip through Mexico. I actually rewrote the description of the castle, instead describing the hotel I stayed at in Oaxaca. It just seemed to fit the setting. Well, I won't be going anywhere for awhile so I should be updating things regularly, knock on wood. Please review everyone! Your comments and thoughts are greatly appreciated!