Digimon is not mine.

Betrayal

The Library's bathroom was a rather good size for a library and rather clean to be public. The white tilled floors were clear of mud, dirt or toilet paper; four green stalls next to two simple urinals remained un-grotesque as they were often seen during the day; dark green tiles lined the walls; a white counter across from the stalls with three white sinks shone as though recently polished and above them was a large mirror that took up the rest of the wall and were unmarred by water stains or fingerprints.

As soon as they had entered the bathroom Yamato had placed himself before the first sink, staring unemotionally at his reflexing in quiet observation while Taichi placed his bag to the far side and out of the way. Tai had pulled down a handful of paper towels from the dispenser on the far wall next to the counter and wetted them in the third sink from the door.

Yamato remained unmoving as Taichi did his bit while stared at the damage done to him with mild interest. He felt rather numb about the nights earlier events probably rendering from the upset he had spent awhile expressing. He felt drained of emotion for the moment, exhausted in both body and mind and was well aware of his eyes burning from the earlier tears and the lingering cold in him that caused his body to break into a shiver from time to time for the first several minutes. Strangely he felt no anger or sorrow or remorse for the damage done to him as he stared and observed the few obscurities that marred his features.

Yamato had moved his eyes over his reflexion, going from the before mentioned split lip, to the blood that trickled half way down his forehead before drying from a cut or gash hidden within his hair, to the purplish bruise upon his right temple. The split lip, he was grateful , was minor and he was sure that, after the blood was cleared away, it would be easy to hide therefore his real concern had laid upon that bruise that he'd doubt would be so easy. Though it may cause Yamato to seem conceited with these thoughts of his, for I assure you he is not, it must be reminded that for someone who uses their appearance to feed and shelter themselves these were very real concerns.

"Okay, hold still." Taichi said as he took the blonde's chin in his hand and went to apply the paper towels to his lip. Before he could do so, though, Yamato jerked his head away, turning cautious blue eyes upon the other and blocking the paper towels advance with his right hand.

"It's not like I don't appreciate it, because I do." Yamato began, "But it's alright. I can do it myself. Nothing more then a scratch." With a frown Taichi handed over the paper towels and stood back to watch the gentle work of the other with pensive eyes, leaning against the counter with his hip and folding his arms over his chest.

Yamato dabbed at the cut tenderly, moistening the blood and watching as it slowly faded from it's place with every touch of the cloth. It was rather a simple task, one that came naturally to him and allowed his mind to wonder. The sting of his lip that came with each touch of the cloth was quite prominent, though, and he soon found his thoughts wondering to the incident that had caused the pain to begin with. In his mind's eyes he was reliving the beating, the overbearing soul pressing down upon him, stealing his wind and he was too grateful when Taichi had started speaking which had pulled him from his reverie.

"How long had you been sitting out there?" Taichi had asked quietly but without emotion. Just an inquisition to break the silence.

Yamato shrugged in response but hadn't wanted to allow the silence to linger yet again so responded more verbally, now adding room for conversation. "I'm not sure. It felt like a while. What time is it?"

Yamato's question then became a curious one to Taichi as well, though, it was disappointing to both when Taichi had checked his wrist and realized he must have forgotten his watch at the dorm when he had stormed out. Looking up with an apologetic expression Taichi said, "Sorry, I'm not sure. Do you need to be anywhere? Someone waiting for you? I have a phone in my bag if you need." Taichi offered.

Yamato let out a small puff of air in a sort of cynical laugh. "No," he said with a melancholy chortle. "I live alone." Yamato found the question to be a sort of cruel cosmic joke on him though he hadn't the mind to explained it to the brunet. "I was just curious. It seems pretty late, probably too late to study now. I suppose it wasn't that necessary since I'm doing pretty well this semester."

To Taichi it seemed more as though Yamato was reasoning with himself as he moved from cleaning his lip to wiping the blood from his forehead, switching the towel around in his hand to use a clean part of the towel to do so. Taichi responded none the less. "Glad to hear at least one of us is doing well this semester. I've been really suffering lately in my course."

"Hm," Yamato said, glancing at the brunet out of the corner of his eye for a second, not seizing his work. "What are you taking?"

"Business Administration." Taichi answered blandly.

"Doesn't sound like you're enjoying it all that much." Yamato responded nonchalantly as he stopped dabbing at his forehead to probing his bruise, half wondering if it was going to get any worst.

Taichi cringed as the thought at his school work. "Numbers..." Taichi explained sounding pained, "I'm just not good with numbers."

"Sounds like a good course for you then." Yamato joked sourly not realizing the statement could have been taken crudely, though Taichi took no offence. He tilted his head down as he leaned towards the mirror, laying the reddened paper towels upon the counter before he started spreading his hair apart, carefully, to peer into the area he'd assume he'd would see a nasty wound.

"I don't really want to take it. My dad wants me to. He wants me to work at the same bank he's been at for years." Taichi may have continued his explanation of his grievances then, though we'd never know because he had taken great notice to a frustrated sigh let out by the blond and how the other's posture then erected it's stance, taking on a manner of defeat; with slacked arms, and glaring eyes. "What's wrong?"

Yamato cleared the frustrated expression from his face and glanced at his company out of the corner of his eye for a moment in debate. After some hesitance he turned to the brunet and said, sounding quite aggravated in his handicap, "Taichi, may I ask if you could see about this cut? It's on such an angle..." Another frustrated sigh. "I just can't."

Taichi smiled at the other's upset over something that seemed so small to him and received a small glare for his efforts. Instantly the grin was gone and his face became more serious. "Sure." Taichi said, unable to remove the sound of delight from his voice, though. "Just come here." And, as ordered, Yamato had taken the two steps closer to the brunet, putting to end the distance between them.

As gently as ever Taichi slid a hand through the silky strands of golden hair that he had dreamed of so often since the last time they were that close. At that proximity Taichi could smell the sweat scent of the other's shampoo, a different scent then he had remembered but just as wonderful as the other. Yes, of course there was that iron smell of blood there as well but so faint, hardly noticeable being mostly masked by the knew smell that he'd be sure to dream of now.

"Would you please stop sniffing me and just check the cut." Yamato interrupted bluntly, sounding aggravated, though there was a small amused smile touching the blonde's lips.

Taichi, on the other hand, blushed profusely, feeling his heart speed within his chest, making him wonder if he'd of embarrassment. "What?! I-I wasn't!" He exclaimed instantly, rather loudly, and so fervently it was as though it were to save his life.

Yamato tilted his head to look up into Taichi's large brown eyes and give him that knowing look that he hoped would get them back on track. He hadn't expected to see anxiety so strong demonstrated upon that reddened face of his. Taichi only got worst as he took notice to the fact that there lips were so close now. Yamato raised an questioning eyebrow to the other. "So, how's your hetro resolution coming?"

Nervous brown eyes darted from the blond to the bathroom door then to the stalls at his left. Yamato sighed and arched his back to pull there faces a little further apart. "Relax," he said, with a roll of his eyes. "Not as many people care about it as you think they do. Not to mention this place is more dead, right now, then a cemetery. You're safe from criticism for the time." Despite the, somewhat, careless words Taichi did seem more relaxed after that was said andirected, with his cheeks still red, for Yamato to look downward again.

Taichi smoothed the reddened hair on Yamato's head away from a cut that didn't seem deep but was a good inch long at least. It had stopped bleeding, he had noticed, but would take a bit to clean because of it's location.

Taichi repeated what he saw to Yamato, hating how his voice seemed to jump and lower, and his words would stammer as his nervousness refused to fade. Yamato's words ' would you please stop sniffing me' kept grinding against his memory, keeping his embarrassment fresh.

"Are you alright?" Yamato questioned, sounding concerned, obviously not realizing how much he had effected the brunet.

"Yeah, fine." Taichi stammer out, looking towards the sink to avoid eye contact. "I can get that cleaned for you if you like."

Yamato only nodded as a grim look returned to the blonde's expression and Taichi silently went and grabbed more paper towels to wet them as Yamato went back to admiring the damage that was done to him, grateful that all that was now visible was the bruise and his reddened hair which would soon disappear as well.

As Taichi came to lay the first dab upon the blonde's crown, Yamato caught his forearm and held it gently, not moving it away as though he had changed his mind, but rather as though to pause the moment and bring the brunette's full attention to his eyes.

Yamato's eyes bore a serious sort of nervous look to them, sincerity, though, was strongly expressed in that look for the words he were about to speak he meant with everything in his being and when he spoke his voice was so soft and so genuine that Taichi felt there would have been no greater joy then to be this young man's shinning knight. "Thank you, Taichi... For everything."

Though simply put the expression behind it made it so that these words, spoken in there soft little helpless manner, had dictated everything Taichi had done for the blond there after.

---------

The library was large and dark, the day light that was not expected for hours more would normally act as the primary light during the day, shinning in through large windows that covered the higher parts of the outer walls. The tables for studying were lit by a single lamp that hung above the center of each table, some tables had there lights left on from earlier visitors that forgot to turn theirs off, while others remained unused in the night and so were cast into darkness.

Books were sealed behind black iron fences, kept safe from those with sticky fingers, the halls past the two wooden doors were next to as dark, with only emergency lights kept on for those who would enter to study at such late hours and to benefit the night staff (aka, janitors and security guards).

Yamato and Taichi sat at one of the longer tables in the main area with the light above shinning down upon Taichi's school books, a note pad and pen. Yamato had offered, graciously, to help Taichi in his homework to pay back for the other's kindness but soon Yamato was just as lost as the brunet and they sat across from each other, amused with idle chat while taking breaks in conversation to try and decrypt Taichi's text.

"'The time line is divided into 240 monthly periods (20 years times 12 payments per year) since the payments are made monthly and the interest is also compounded monthly. The $50,000 that you have now (present value) is a negative cash outflow since you will treat it as though you were just now depositing it into the account...' Excuse me for saying, Taichi, but what the fuck?" Yamato said as he read the text with bewilderment creasing his features. He then raised his head to direct the expression to the brunet. "I thought you said you were having trouble with math and this," Yamato said as he tapped the four fingers on his right hand three times upon the page he read, "Is not math."

Tai rolled his eyes. "First of all, call me Tai. Everyone calls me Tai. Second of all, this is math." He then cleared his throat and turned his text to face him as he read, "'You are 40 years old and have accumulated $50,000 in your savings account. You can add $100 at the end of each month to your account which pays an annual interest rate of 6% compounded monthly. Will you be able to retire in 20 years?'" Taichi read then raised his eyes to meet the same bewildered expression as before, seeming not to have made his point. Taichi sighed and shook his head. "That is math. I just... can't, quite understand it."

Yamato rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair, now slouching, "Whatever." He said though there was a good humored manner about his tone, a sort of teasing as it may.

Yamato sat silently for a moment, watching Taichi try to understand his text. Blue eyes followed the features of Taichi's face, from the nose that wrinkled with the cringe Taichi had made, to his deep, kind eyes, to the lips that were currently puckered in the other's obvious distress.

He loved Taichi's eyes, he had to admit to himself. He loved how warm they were like the caring soul that was behind them, the dark color that matched his hair and made them seem deeper then they were. They were squared and masculine yet soft and gentle, they were deep and soulful and made him feel both important and a little envious.

He liked Taichi's square jaw line and the light stubble of brown hair that was hardly noticed on his chin. He loved his long and straight nose that adorned his face and was allowing that manly look to protrude through the boyish appearance he once had. As well, Yamato loved the soft look of Taichi's lips with which made him wonder how many had kissed them before he, himself, had.

Secretly Yamato wishing, in his thoughts of Taichi's appeal, how much he wished his own looks were more like the brunette's. He wished his eyes were more man-like then his effeminate long lashed, slanted ones; wished that his facial hair was more then the laughable 'peach fuzz' that would come threw every few days. He wasn't fond of his own feminine appearance and the teasing he had received because of it while growing up. He also often wondered if it was why he had such a hard time making acquaintances and meeting a nice guy who'd be interested in more then just a one night stand.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and focused his eyes back on the expressions of Taichi's face instead of the attractive attributes of it. He took notice to the fact that the cringe was gone now and his eyes were back to that glare that they usually took when staring at his text books.

Taichi sighed, giving up for the time and leaned back to mirror the slouching of his companion, bringing his attention to the silent blond again. "So, is there a way to shorten your name that you like?" Taichi had asked, referring back to the request he had made to the blond earlier. Curiously he watched the look on Yamato's face go from quiet intrigue to slightly miffed

Yamato had felt irritated by the question Taichi posed but not at the other for posing it. He tried to act calm and answered as passively as possible. "No, not really. I've never been one for nicknames."

Taichi raised his eyebrows at Yamato, feeling as though he were being lied to but not knowing why, so he pushed more for an answer; a bit of his stubborn personality shinning through. "Really?" He had asked, "No nicknames, abbreviations, shortenings or other given by friends or family."

The probing had Yamato's irritation rise a little, wishing for a change in subject but tried to keep his, sometimes, cruel tongue in check as he answered playfully, "Nicknames, abbreviations, shortenings are all the same thing, you realize?"

Unrelenting Taichi asked, "And you're are actually saying no one has ever tried to give you one? I'm sorry, but I find that hard to believe."

"Well, I was called fag for a while. Pansy a little bit, later on, though, that hadn't lasted long." Yamato said with a careless tone and quickly regretted it upon seeing the look of shock and hurt appear in the other's eyes, after all he knew of the other's sensibility on the subject and had just thrown it in his face with a cruel reminder of such negative labels. From past experience he could only imagine how many times the brunet had used those derogatory words upon himself.

Taichi just stared at him for a moment afterwards, confused into silence. The statement reminded him of the fears that he'd later face of public rejection and ridicule and didn't know how to respond because he wasn't sure how the blond had meant it. A personal matter seemed to come up and so did Yamato's defenses, for which Taichi hadn't realized their strength. It had him wondering how much truth was behind what the other said. He wasn't fond of talking about the subject but he wanted to know about the young man sitting across from him and questions of the other's experiences when discovering his own sexuality may, in turn, help him.

On the other hand Yamato may have only said what he had for the point of shock and then he'd have no base to ask his questions. It left him speechless for a moment, uncertain and a little dejected at the thought that the other may have used the knowledge of his unease against him.

Yamato had been sitting in silence for a time, biting his tongue out of guilt as he waited for the other to hopefully change topics out of awkwardly feelings but, as the seconds ticked by feeling much more like minutes, he felt that perhaps he was being a bit too cruel in his statement. To alleviate the guilt he was feeling, Yamato sighed, sat forward and unfolded his arms, his hands coming to grip the edge of his seat as he spoke. "I used to be called Matt," and then added quickly, "By some,"

Taichi focused his eyes on the other, who's own were directed downwards as though ashamed but Taichi could still see the guilt on his face which taught him the harsher truth of Yamato's earlier words. Though he was rather upset about Yamato using such a statement to bring him unease, the sorrow he saw on the other, and guilt and his willingness to open up as a repentance made up for it, in Taichi's eyes. "Used to?" He simply asked probing more gently for the other to explain what brought on the mood change.

"Yeah." Yamato said, with his lips twisted sourly at the thought. "It was a name my dad gave me when I was just a toddler. Caught on with my friends when I got older. I'm not that fond of it anymore and would prefer not to be called by it."

Taichi frowned at the hurt tone the other used and made a guess as to what had caused it. "Your dad didn't take you telling him about your preference well, did he?"

Yamato snorted and looked back towards Taichi as he answered with a pained look in his eyes that showed just how much he wished the fact weren't so. "He took it just fine." Yamato said with a sour grin upon his face. "As well as could be expected. He hadn't yelled. Didn't call me anything. Didn't disown me like I had expected." Yamato then laughed, and seemed amused though still bothered by what he was saying, "He has my brother try to keep tabs on me, though Takeru denies it." Yamato paused for a moment, bringing his eyes down to rest upon the table just before himself, thinking of how he could explain best what the trial had put him through.

"When I told him he was silent for a very long time." Yamato continued. "Took a seat on the couch and his face kept getting angry then going expressionless then back angry for about five minutes." Another pause for Yamato to swallow a hard knot before he started talking again. "When he was done he had gotten up and walked towards me. Stared down at me for a moment. Then said so quietly, sounding so hurt by what I had told him, 'Yamato... I'm disappointed'. Then he locked himself up in his room and didn't come out until work the next day."

Another moment had come and Taichi shook his head, understanding that hearing that would have been very troubling to the blond, to most kids in fact, so he had tried to muster up the most sympathy he could in the statement, "Yamato, I'm so sorry."

Yamato raised his eyes up to the brunet offering him a smile, appreciating the sympathy, but his eyes were still sad. "That's not all." Yamato quietly added. Yamato took a deep breath as Taichi's expression turned to that of nervous interest. "When dad had come home from work the next day he hadn't so much as given me a glance before he was standing before me, handing me a handful of bills. He said that I was too sheltered living with him, that I had needed to learn what the real world was like. He didn't say it angrily, remained cool and indifferent the entire time. I didn't know what to do and just took the money. Once I had he said he'd help me pack if I wanted."

"He kicked you out!" Taichi exclaimed. "So, what'd he think? You'd go straight if you suffered a little." Taichi, so in tuned with the story, had forgotten his own worry over such topics and spoke with ease, loud enough for all to over hear.

Yamato let out a cynical laugh, that same sour grin remaining upon his face. "Something like that," He muttered, "Apparently my mom agreed. My parents divorced a long time ago and when I went to my mom's to live she had shunned me away. Said what my dad had about me needing to grow up."

Taichi had seemed shocked, his mouth was a gape and a hand had rubbed at his jaw as though trying to remind it how to work. His eyes were dazing out past Yamato's head as he thoughts took reign but when a particular thought past his mind they focused again upon the blue eyes watching him. "And you think it's okay if I were gay after what happened to you. My dad pays for my college, be it I like the course or not. If he stopped paying I'd end up working at Taco Bell or something for the rest of my days. I'd be completely screwed."

Yamato's smile turned more pleasant at that, understanding in a way, his eyes softening from their hurt expression. "You'd be surprised what you could do for yourself if you had to. By the way, you can't hide who you are. It always comes out, some time or other. The truth is there, constantly, and if you don't except who you are you mold your life around a lie and that sounds depressing." Yamato said before adding on second thought, "By the time you realized what a mistake you made so much of your life has already gone by that it'd be nearly too hard to make it right if possible at all."

Taichi sat still in thought as he absorbed the words the other offered, remembering his great tribulation two weeks before and how much it had related to everything that Yamato had just said. He remembered debating if he should ignore his sexuality enough to marry or to die alone and wondered how far life would have gone down that path if he and Yamato hadn't...

Taichi coughed a couple of times and turned his attention back to his text, allowing his eyes to scan over the words carefully because what was in the text was now and the future he hadn't wanted to think about just yet. After his mind had grown absorbed into the text enough again for him to get confused, he asked, "What do you think this means: 'the 15 and 30 year fixed-rate mortgages common in the US are fully amortized loans. To pay off a $100,000, 15 year, 7%, fixed-rate mortgage, a person must pay $898.83 each month for 180 months (with a small adjustment at the end to account for rounding). $583.33 of the first payment goes toward interest and $315.50 is used to reduce principal. But by payment 179, only $10.40 is needed for interest and $888.43 is used to reduce principal'."

Yamato leaned forward, casting his eyes over the text and, after a moment of intense concentration, Yamato responded, "You know the school has a tutor program."

-----

Yamato woke the next morning in his bed wrapped, warm, within his beige comforter with the fresh sun light streaming in through the blinds to come and land upon his face. He squeezed his eyes and rolled over onto his side to hide from the offending light. In his wakening mind where sleep was still struggling to clear there was a soft voice, sounding very much like his conscious, that reminded him he probably should get up and ready for school but, to Yamato, that didn't quite seem reason enough just yet.

He laid upon his lumpy mattress, curled up in that beige comforter for several minutes, all calm and content, until something, greater then reason, seemed to make it through his sleep clogged mind enough to alert him to the fact that he wasn't alone in his apartment. His fists gripped his blankets as he sat listened to the sounds of clinking and footsteps and a few soft bangs beyond his bedroom door. That was until his memory from the night before came back and relaxed him into a more awake feeling of content.

Last night when Yamato had said that he needed to go home or he'd never wake, Taichi had offered to walk the other there, obviously concerned for his well being. Yamato was all to grateful and had a hard time hiding his enjoyment at the offer. They were both exhausted by the time they had made it to Yamato's that Taichi had ended up staying the night and, graciously, volunteered to claim the couch for his sleep.

Yamato now smiled at the sounds that he heard, all fear of danger gone and was replaced with a warmth he hadn't felt in a while as the sounds came to him and offered comfort. He leaned back onto his bed and glanced a lazy eye upon his clock next to him, which was resting upon a cardboard box, to see the time. It was not too late that he'd miss school, he took notice to, but late enough that he knew it was time to rise and meet his guest.

Taichi was working at the counter in Yamato's kitchen, on the far side of the fridge, and raised his eyes to greet the other as the blond had entered. Yamato had left his bedroom and gave a stretch and a yawn, unconcerned for his state of dress which consisted of merely the tight leather pants he had been wearing the night before and nothing more.

Taichi grinned at the other, amused at the sight, as Yamato walked slowly into the kitchen "Yeah," Taichi began turning his attention back to the peanut butter sandwiches he was making. "I thought of saying something about those leather pants last night but-" Taichi said with a teasing tone in his voice before he trailed off.

He glanced at the other from the corner of his eye to spy a reaction but Yamato had remained quite composed at the reminder of his exotic clothing, except for a small blush that came to his cheeks as he took a seat at his kitchen table. "Yeah, well," He began, sounding tired but amused none-the-less at the brunette's attempt to mock, "Leather pants are mandatory if you're gay. It's like a law or something set forth by the fashion police. Which, by the way, is fair warning to you now that you're, decidedly, gay."

Taichi smiled and shook his head as he finished with the sandwiches, wishing he could retort as cleverly as Yamato had. He tossed one of the two finished sandwiches on the table before the blond as he took a seat across from his companion and took a bite of his own sandwich. "By the way, do you ever shop? This was all I could find to make." Taichi said with his mouth full.

Yamato shot a disgusted look at the other as he watched the food move about in the brunette's mouth. "Do you have manners?" Yamato questioned which only seemed to amuse the brunet.

"You sound like my mom." Taichi said as he was chomping down on his sandwiches with his words muffled by bread and peanut butter.

Yamato shook his head at the other, hiding the fact that he was actually enjoying Taichi's company for the point of teaching the brunet a lesson. He took a bite of his own sandwich, demonstrating that he was first chewing, swallowing and then talking. "I shop every two days. I only buy as much as I need to. So, yeah, my cupboards stay sparse."

Taichi took another bite of his sandwich, disregarding the lesson. "What? You on a diet or something?" This bite was larger then the last and food particles actually came out as he spoke.

Yamato rolled his eyes, took another bite, swallowed then answered. "A constant diet. I have to stay thin, can't afford to put on weight."

Taichi took another large bite, one so big he could hardly talk through the mouth full. "You're so skinny, though. You, of anybody, don't need to diet."

Yamato scrunched up his face then and put his own sandwich down, "Well, now, I'm done this meal too."

"Awe, come on!" Taichi pleaded as Yamato stood to clean up the mess from the preparations Taichi had made while hiding a smile as he had did so. Taichi quickly swallowed the amount in his mouth, nearly choking as he did. "I was only joking."

"I'm sure I'll get a good laugh out of it later." Yamato said sarcastically as he twisted the peanut butter's lid on and proceeded to wipe away the crumbs.

Taichi rolled his eyes as he placed the last piece of his sandwich into his mouth and sat for a moment, eying Yamato's half eaten one. Only a moment, though, had he sat in waiting before he reached forward and took the blonde's sandwich, eating it as well. Hell, he wasn't on the diet.

------

The following week hadn't been all that eventful for either parties of this tale. Nothing too much more then minor consequences and events had befallen, not quite worth a scene but worthy enough to be told for these events showed much change in our characters.

First of all, Yamato had been more help to Taichi's math problems then he would know for Taichi had gotten a tutor through the schools tutor program. This event had been an infinite help to him that would lead to success in the exams ahead because, without the tutor's help, he would have failed his test, and forced to repeat the course, which would have hurt and hardened many things in Taichi's current life other wise.

Also, Taichi had stopped trying to avoid the blond at school, which he had been fervently doing before. Now he was almost religious about looking for Yamato whenever he entered into a knew room, never missed a chance to talk with him, which he felt he had to do since the blond was always so absorbed in his own thoughts that he hardly expected the other to see him even if the brunet were right before of his eyes.

Though Yamato remained oblivious to Taichi's efforts he was so grateful every time he had gotten the chance to speak with the brunet. Yamato had spent such a long time being lonely and isolated that the contact and friendship the other offered made him happier then he ever could've explained.

In fact, since Taichi had spent the night at his home, without complaint may I add since the place was shabbier then any other place Taichi had stayed, Yamato's little apartment felt warmer and brighter, cozier, then before. Every time he remembered waking to Taichi in his kitchen he grew contented and would even, sometimes, smile to himself about it.

Unfortunately not all good had come from that one night for the few obscurities on Yamato's face had caused some problems for him at work. The lipstick he had bought and used wasn't as good a match to him as he would have hoped, too pink for him; the shock factor he received for his efforts did not work in his favor. Of course, what could be expected. He was a boy. He normally didn't buy make up. His best efforts couldn't keep him from blushing when the stores clerk gave him a double take as he bought it. On top of that his bruise could not be covered by the powder he had bought which was too dark for Yamato's skin tone anyways.

When he had gone to work the first night after the beating the owner of the club had told him he couldn't work there with his face battered like it was or with himself looking like a clown either. The owner had given his condolences, of course, to Yamato's troubles but no amount of condolences could have saved the embarrassment he felt as he walked home gripping the makeup in his pockets all the while as though angry with them for failing him.

There was one incident, though, that deserves a scene to explain it properly for the emotional value that was there which explains Yamato behavior for several incidents that had occurred and will yet come. It had occurred upon the following Sunday, beginning just outside of Yamato's apartment.

The day was dark and the air was so frigid that one's lungs would hurt from the simple task of breathing. Clouds covered the blue in the heavens and hung low and dark as though threatening another good snowfall like the one from the night before.

Yamato was one of few who had left the warmth of their home and felt nearly foolish for doing so but he had to pick up a few things from the grocery store for his cupboards were now empty of all food and his stomach was growling at him. He was silently cursing himself for not getting more then what he had with the news forecast predicting weather like this was to last a while longer as he climbed the metal snow covered steps of his apartment building on his way home. Though absorbed as he was in his self-loathing thoughts he was not so absorbed as not to notice his brother, disgruntled as he may be, banging on his door in such a thunderous way that Yamato imagined just how long the other blond must have been out there.

Yamato stood silently for a moment, just watching his brother huddle into himself as he waited for Yamato to open his door. Yamato's eyes were sad, even with the small smile that touched his lips and the look in his eyes reflected that of remorse that demonstrated just how much he had truly missed his little brother despite how the feelings of betrayal had him act.

The sweet boy was a few feet away from him, staring angrily at Yamato's door, obviously too upset to notice his brother just yet. Takeru was shorter then he himself was with soft blond hair that still held the thin aspect of his youth. His smaller frame was tensed in the cold and a scarf was pulled up over his nose to try and keep him warm. The scarf was blue and perfectly matched the soft color of his eyes.

"Yamato, open up!" Takeru shouted through the door, while giving it a couple good bangs in the process. "I know you're in there!" He then proceeding to hug himself, wrapping his arms tightly around his torso and moving about jittery in his spot to keep warm.

Yamato smiled at that, amused in an endearing sort of way. In the next moment, though, he had erase the expression from his face and replaced it with an arrogant, perhaps slightly angered, one as he cleared his throat to get the other's attention.

Takeru turned his body to the sound, too cold to just turn his head and expose his neck, to see his older brother standing there with one raised eyebrow in such a way that only his big brother could. Takeru hid his embarrassment well, remembering what he had just shouted through the door, and turned his anger on his brother. "Where the hell have you been?! I've been waiting here forever for you!"

Yamato simply glanced down towards the two paper bags that he were carrying his groceries in as way of an answer.

Takeru scowled at his brother, now seeming slightly upset with himself for seeming a fool. "Open the door. I'm freezing," He grunted.

"So, how are you today, brother?" Yamato had asked as he led Takeru inside, knowing the sentence would frustrate his sibling if not with the way he had called him 'brother' but with the way he had said it as well. It was in a mocking tone, after all, one which expressed that Yamato didn't care one way or the other about how his sibling was doing and wanted the smaller blond to know it.

Takeru tactfully ignored Yamato's question, understanding the game and wishing not to play it. He shivered in his coat as he tried to warm up while gingerly removing his uncomfortably binding scarf to lay the garment upon the end table that held Yamato's phone.

Takeru walked towards his sibling who was entering into the kitchen to place his groceries upon the counter and by passed all pleasantries so to express the reason for him being there. "Why haven't you been returning my calls?" He spoke angrily, "I must have left you a hundred messages, at least! And there I am wondering if your dead or evicted or in trouble and not knowing what to do..." Takeru paused in his rant to watch his brother idly pull his groceries from the brown bags to put them away. "Don't you even care at all?" Takeru asked so sincerely, with his arms gesturing in a silent request of 'why'. He sounded hurt, much to how he felt when he received not the slightest appearance of regret from the taller one for his troubles.

Yamato turned to his brother, a rather callous expression upon his face. "Would you like something while you're here? A drink perhaps? I just picked up some fruit if that interests you instead?" Takeru stood, staring at his brother for a moment before falling into a pose of defeat.

Yamato's mind whispered to him that any guilt he felt was misplaced. He had no real reason to feel anything for his little brother until the smaller blond at least seemed sorry at not having been there for him when his parents expelled him from their home.

Takeru turned away from his brother at that, defeated for the moment in gaining any emotion from his sibling, all while allowing a silence to settle as his brother continued placing away the few groceries he had picked up.

The smaller blond walked calmly into the living room, blue eyes scanning over the area like a surveillance. Takeru's softened eyes took to notice the old love seat that sat depressingly on its own, looking battered with several patches about it from past tares. It sat before a small television that Yamato had owned, an old one with turn dials like he had hardly ever seen before. A brown rug was upon the floor between the couch and the TV and held no visual appeal at all so he knew it's sole purpose was simply to protect Yamato's bare feet from the cold wood floor.

He noticed the white bare walls, without a frame or picture, the curtains by the window were dark gray and looked drab with a few moth eaten holes. A single lonely lamp sat in the far corner of the living room without it's shade that could offer it a friendlier look and not a thing more to give light at night in that part of the apartment.

"You done snooping for dad?" Yamato asked as he leaned upon a wall with his arms crossed over his chest, watching his sibling seem to search his apartment. 'Search', at least, is how Yamato saw it.

Takeru turned concerned blue eyes upon his brother watching sorrowfully as Yamato seemed to glare at him for the offered pity. The smaller one sighed and turned himself fully to his sibling and lowered his eyes as he prepared to give some bad news. "Dad's in the hospital right now, Matt. He had a heart attack."

Yamato stared at Takeru, expression unchanging but the smaller of the two could see the thoughts flutter about before the blond's eyes, first showing worry, then curiosity, gratefulness, and finally landing on fear. His facial muscles stayed as they had been before, his lips were tightly sealed, cheeks firm with anger, and eyebrows narrowed slightly on the boy before him. "And that's to explain that you're not snooping for dad, I take it then?"

Takeru sighed, disappointed with that careless response but ignored it, knowing how hurt the taller blond felt. "He's going to go into surgery tomorrow. He wants to see you." Takeru took two steps towards his brother then, feeling hopeful. "Mom and I want you to come too."

A sudden stress landed upon Yamato's heart then and, though he had tried to hide it, his brother could see a flash of confusion cross Yamato's face; his eyes had gone soft, loosing their fierceness, his lips lost their tension and slightly fell into a small frown, his shoulders quivered with the force it was now taking Yamato to keep them from slumping down and weakening his imposing posture. Though he appeared as though he were staring at the smaller blond Yamato's eyes were actually looking past him, into memories that brought him through a serious of emotions starting from confusion to joy to anger to graciousness and then to finally land on sorrow.

Yamato, if all truth was to be known, had actually wanted to go to the hospital and see his family. His heart even strained with the amount it had wanted him to go. It beat and thudded and tried to make his legs move to see the people he wanted to see and be excepted by more then anything, unfortunately, though, his head didn't want him to go and it was his head that controlled his legs.

At the mere thought of rejoining his family, returning to the loving, safe arms that he once knew too well made his heart swell and his eyes nearly water with the chance that he could have that again. But his mind offered reason beyond that of emotion.

His mind remembered how easy those people had shooed him away because of the truth that he had offered them. His mind remembered the dissatisfied expression he had received from his mother as she told him he hadn't a home with her either. He remembered the confused yet docile look he was given from his brother as he stood behind his mother, several feet away while she shut the door of her home to him.

He remembered his father's anguished eyes staring down at him as he was being handed the folded bills his father had given him for the purpose of clearing his own guilt the last hour he was allowed to remain in the place he considered home. He remembered the feelings of betrayal and hopelessness and sorrow and hurt, above all else, for being discarded so easy from the people who seemed to be his whole world up until then. These were feelings and events he had never wanted to experience again.

He didn't want to open his heart and watch it be torn apart again because his father would ask him, on his death bed, to become straight so he could die happy, or to tell him if he remained gay he wouldn't get a yen of his will; or, worst, to be apologized to, make him think that arms were open; security and love were once again his for the taking only to have it refused to him like it had been before once things had settled from this affair. His father would only feel remorse because he thinks he might die while his mother would only pretend she loved him for the sake of a dying man, be it her ex-husband or not.

He couldn't allow such hopes to lead to such pains which is why, a moment later, his brother had left his apartment in a huff, storming wordlessly past the taller blond, grabbing his softly colored scarf, and exited, bothering not to even shut the apartment door. It was only once he was outside again, with the nipping air stinging his ears, cheeks, nose, and lungs that he allowed his tears to fall, for it was the first time he had truly felt as though he had lost his brother. A feeling he would never forget.

To Be Continued...

Thank you DarkMetalAngel of Destruction, xSadiexSuicidex, Samsami, Anbaachan, and Bloodpained, plus all my reviewers from the first chapter I had posted. You guys are the reason why this came as fast as it had and the reason I'll have another chapter soon for you. Thank you lots. I hope you liked it. And, I wanted to say before Shevira, thanks for the constructive critisim. Picky is good. It taught me something about changing the style I had been trying for the first chapter.

Now, I'm a little concern that in this chapter it seems as though the characters aren't following the profile I had set out for them, by making Yamato a little nippy and Taichi too easy but a lot of the reason they acted how they had, for those are traits of their personalities as well, are because of the late hour they had and the stress on Yamato from the attack he had endured and the crying he had done. They still acted like how I picture them but in a stronger sense because of how tired they felt and were beginning to feel. I hope that makes sense to you, if you even care lol. I'm such a worrywart.

Also, not next chap, but the one after that I'll go more into the relationship between Yamato and Takeru that will explain Takeru's interactions with his brother and Yamato's anger with his brother which should bring to light the full amount of emotion which is needed to explain it best.

Thanks for reviewing because they make me hop with joy, even the ones that offer suggestions, and smile a lot and feel like the chapter was so worth writing. ^_^