"Would you mind if we took a short break, Kawate-san?"
Hiroko nodded, putting her pen and paper away quickly. "Of course not! My hand was beginning to get tired anyway."
The three had already finished their tea, and Yuuki was now reclined on the loveseat with her legs pulled up beside her. She held a volume of manga in one hand and a half-eaten cookie in the other. Upon further examining the cover, Hiroko realized with a small gasp of surprise that it was a rather explicit boys' love novel.
Ishida seemed to notice her scandalized look, and fixed his daughter with a scowl. "Yuuki, don't read that garbage in front of guests."
Yuuki raised an eyebrow, turning a page. "Why not?"
"It's disgustingly inaccurate."
"But sparkly little ukes are so cute."
The telephone rang, interrupting their argument. Heaving a melodramatic sigh, Yuuki went to answer it.
"We can continue whenever you're ready," Ishida said.
Hiroko clicked her pen back open, but was cut off by Yuuki.
"Dad," the girl hollered, "it's Mimi-rin. She wants to know if you're still coming to Kazuki-kun's birthday party."
"Tell her I'll be there," Ishida called back.
"'Kay."
A few moments later, Yuuki came back into the living room. "Alright, Dad, continue on with the big bucket of angst that is your childhood."
Ishida sighed.
Glittering Wind
Chapter Two
Mom, please tell me
If I become an adult, will I be happy?
Teacher, please tell me
Where will I go from here?
Awoi- "Kodomo no Uta"
Yamato's seventh Christmas came without much snow, unfortunately.
Now, the quiet boy had never really been one to get excited about holidays. His past birthdays had usually lacked a real party, and just involved his family (and more recently the Yagamis) desperately trying to get him enthusiastic about opening presents, when he really just wanted to sleep.
His parents loved Christmas. This year they went all out, purchasing a real tree (incredibly rare for a Japanese family) and a Christmas cake that was large and grand enough to easily feed ten people.
Which was why Natsuko took the liberty of inviting the Yagami family over for their Christmas dinner. It was only natural, as their sons were inseparable. Natsuko and Yuuko, too, had become rather good friends.
"Merry Christmas!" Yuuko squealed, entering the Ishida household with a platter of decorated biscuits. Taichi followed her, grinning from ear to ear. He was practically dragging his baby sister, Hikari, with one arm, and in the other arm he clutched a couple of gift-wrapped boxes like they were precious cargo.
Natsuko rushed to help her friend set the cookies down, and then hugged her. "Merry Christmas, Yuuko-san! Oh, Hikari-chan, you look so cute."
The toddler giggled and began sucking her thumb shyly. Her mother had combed what little hair she had up into a Christmas-colored bow, and her dress was red-and-green as well, with a reindeer pattern along the hems.
"Say 'thank you', Hikari," Yuuko whispered.
"A-ri-ga-to-o," Hikari slurred around her thumb.
Natsuko gestured behind her. "Takeru's in his room playing. I'm sure he'd love to have Hikari-chan's company, Yuuko-san."
Yuuko nodded fervently. "Oh, of course." She knelt down to her daughter's level. "Hikari-chan, would you like to go play with Takeru-kun?"
The toddler smiled and allowed her mother to lead her back to Takeru's room. The others could hear a cry of delight as the two little friends reunited.
While the grownups gathered in the kitchen to begin setting up the dinner, Taichi pulled Yamato to the side.
"I gotcha a present!" Taichi said happily, and pushed a package wrapped in candy cane-printed paper into Yamato's arms.
Yamato's cheeks flushed. "I didn't get you anything, though… I didn't know you were gonna…"
"It's okay," Taichi chirped. He looked about ready to explode with anticipation. "Open it, open it, open it!"
Still a little pink-faced, Yamato methodically began peeling the wrapping off, soon revealing a rectangular box. It was made of dark, lacquered wood that Yamato could see his reflection in.
"Open the box now!" Taichi hissed, jumping up and down in one place and scaring his friend a little. "Open the box, Yamato!"
Hurrying so as not to give Taichi a heart attack, Yamato cracked the pretty box open, and gasped.
Nestled on a bed of soft, blue material was a brass harmonica, polished to a mirror-shine that rivaled that of the box it rested in.
At Yamato's awed silence, Taichi stopped bouncing a little. "You… you don't like it?"
Immediately, Yamato hugged the box to his chest as if afraid Taichi would try to take it back. "I love it."
"Oh, that's good," Taichi breathed in relief. "'Cuz, y'know, you really like music, an' you're always listening to it, an' I just thought you would want to actually play your own music! So I asked Mama to take me to the music store, an' everything was really expensive, but when I saw that thing--"
Yamato cut Taichi off by pulling him into a fierce, unexpected hug. Taichi was so shocked he almost screamed.
"Waah! Yamato, you okay?"
"I'm okay," Yamato muttered into his friend's shoulder. He held Taichi tight, just as tight as the harmonica was clutched in his hand. "Thank you so much."
"Y-you're welcome," Taichi said hesitantly, and then patted Yamato on the back. "Now lemme go so I can give your brother his present."
Yamato didn't let Taichi go for another twenty seconds or so, and then he behaved as if it had never happened. He retreated to the sofa and gazed at the harmonica in fascination, turning it over and over in his hands. His mind reeled.
I've always wanted to play music. The blush returned to his pale cheeks. Taichi knew that. He knows me- better than Mom does, even. And…
He dropped his head a little, very embarrassed. And he feels just as warm as I thought he would.
Taichi got little Takeru a toy soccer ball, which the toddler immediately began slobbering all over. His gift for his own baby sister was a shiny silver whistle. Hikari didn't stop whistling shrilly for the entire evening, but everybody was too wrapped up in the spirit of the holiday to care.
"Dad," Yamato piped up as they tucked into the festive chicken dinner, "isn't Christmas a Christian holiday?"
"Yes," Hiroaki said slowly.
"So… why do we celebrate it…?"
"'Cuz it's fun," Taichi said through a mouthful of rice. He swallowed. "Don't you think it's fun?"
Yamato looked at his knees. "Yeah, it's fun…"
That night, Yamato drowned out the sound of his parents' quiet arguing with his new harmonica.
Taichi hadn't bothered to buy him any sort of instructional booklet, so Yamato just sat and tinkered around for a little while, experimenting with the different sounds the instrument made. It produced a low, beautifully scratchy noise that stirred Yamato's heart.
"… you care so little about your first son…"
"I love Yamato!"
"He always takes second seat to Takeru! You play favorites, Natsuko!"
"Of course I don't!"
Yamato blew another long, hoarse note, concentrating so hard on his self-education that he could almost ignore the hot tears welling up in his eyes.
"What did you do for Yamato's birthday?"
"I…"
"Nothing! For Takeru's?"
"That's not--"
"The carnival, Natsuko! With all of your relatives!"
His parents always tried to be quiet when they fought, doing so behind closed doors, away from Yamato and Takeru. But, as was always the case, Yamato heard every word. Every hard, hurtful word.
"I never realized how shallow you were!"
"Hiroaki, I am not shallow! If anyone here is shallow, it's the man who used to chase that little tramp around his office, even when he was already engaged!"
Yamato clenched his eyes shut, forcing the tears to go away. It didn't work. They trickled down his cheeks, making his face blotchy. His amateurish harmonica-playing was absolutely horrible, but it could almost, almost, almost keep the noise away.
"You favor Takeru!"
"I… Yamato looks at me like he hates me!"
"I do not…" Yamato whimpered, pulling the harmonica away for a brief moment. He choked on saliva. "I do n-not!"
"You can't push your own son away like you push me away, Natsuko! You've told me that you don't love me anymore, but think about your children! You're killing Yamato!"
"That boy has no emotion at all!"
"I think that's your problem! Don't point fingers at a seven-year-old when the real issue is your cold attitude towards anyone who doesn't bend to your every whim!"
Yamato released a harsh, silent scream and hurled the brass instrument across his room, burying his face in a pillow. He scraped his throat raw with a long wail at the injustice of it all, but the sound was muffled.
Why did they even get married?! Why do adults get married, if they're just gonna give up?! Taichi's dad even—
"Taichi," Yamato whispered. A look of horror was slapped across his face. He abandoned the pillow and rushed to locate the harmonica he had thrown.
It was unbroken, though there was now a shallow scratch on its once pristine surface.
The tears returned full-force.
Taichi… Yamato cradled the harmonica lovingly. I'm so sorry… I almost broke it… I almost broke the wonderful present you gave me… when I haven't ever given you anything…
Taichi was probably opening more presents with his mother and sister at that moment, gleeful at some new soccer-related item he would surely dirty or break in a week's time. There was no way Taichi was thinking of Yamato, when he had such a wonderful life. When he loved… everything and everyone.
Taichi probably doesn't love me, Yamato realized. If my own mother doesn't love me, why should someone as wonderful as Yagami Taichi care?
After carefully placing the harmonica back on the shelf, Yamato hurried past the door of his parents' bedroom, hands clamped firmly over his ears. A few words still got through.
"… leave… house…"
"Why… bastard… I wouldn't…"
"Takeru… you…"
"How could… upset…"
Yamato reached the living room. As the time was nearing midnight, it was eerily silent, and so dark he could just barely make out the shape of the sofa. Yamato pulled himself up onto it, and covered his shivering body with a knitted afghan. He groped around for the remote control, and then turned the television on.
Late-night news.
Infomercial.
Crazy game show.
Dorama rerun.
Then it landed on an enka performance. Yamato settled back into the couch cushions, tears making his eyesight a little blurry. His grandparents loved enka.
Every year, the Ishida family visited Hiroaki's parents in Kobe. Ishida Katsuro and his wife Akiko were devout Shintoists, very content with their quiet life and always overjoyed to see their grandchildren. Since Hiroaki had an older brother, sometimes Yamato got to see his cousins. But it wasn't like he ever spoke a word to them.
Yamato furiously scrubbed at his eyes, mad at himself for crying. Girls cried. Yamato hated girls.
But now he watched the woman onscreen. He recognized her immediately as Otowa Shinobu, quite young for an enka singer. (Well, according to his grandmother. Yamato wouldn't know much better.)
'Yuki no mite…'
Her voice was powerful, rather than pretty. The way her voice almost shook was what made Yamato prefer traditional enka to modern music. So maybe he didn't hate female enka singers.
By the time Otowa's song had ended, Yamato had fallen asleep on the sofa, his hand still loosely clutching the remote.
"Enka?" Hiroko blurted in surprise.
Ishida shrugged. Now that Hiroko thought about it, it seemed to make perfect sense. Music critics had always noted Ishida Yamato for the odd way he sang- raw, hoarse, and with a quivering timbre in his voice.
"Enka…" she murmured again. "How strange."
"Because it actually meant something," Yamato explained briefly. "Music has always been a part of me. I hated how singers could be famous just for being pretty, without any actual talent or heart. Enka was different. I got called an old geezer a lot as a kid."
"You're still an old geezer," Yuuki chided. "Always have been."
Ishida ignored her comment and continued gracefully, "My parents divorced soon after the fighting started. I think it only took a month. They split Takeru and me up."
Hiroko gasped. "No!"
"Yeah… Mom took him to Shinjuku. I didn't see Takeru much as a young kid. It was mainly just on holidays, when Mom would drop him off with Dad and me, or vice-versa with me visiting them. I hated Shinjuku. God, it was loud."
"So you stayed in Odaiba?"
"Yeah," Ishida sighed, "though we moved into a bigger flat when I was in sixth grade. I hated not being Taichi's neighbor anymore, but at least I got a room with a big window. And Dad didn't care if I played my harmonica, as long as I was quiet when he was working."
Yuuki snort-giggled. Ishida shot her a look.
"I'm sorry," she laughed. "That just sounded funny."
"No more BL for you," Ishida snapped.
"Awwww, Dad!"
"I'm not taking cooking."
"Yamato, come on," Taichi whined. "Please?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"It's a girl class, Taichi!"
"Getting free food isn't girly, it's awesome!"
Yamato groaned and rubbed at his forehead. He sat beneath the shade of a large oak tree, back-to-back with his best and only friend. Each held the packet of paperwork needed to make their schedules for seventh grade.
"You need one more exploratory class," Taichi pointed out. "You only have music and technology."
"What do you have, then?" Yamato asked a bit snappishly.
Taichi began reading his sloppy handwriting out loud. "I chose... cooking and double blocks of P.E."
"Wow, eating and soccer," Yamato said flatly. "How unpredictable."
Taichi shoved back against his friend playfully. "Shut up. You know if you don't fill your schedule out, they choose your classes for you."
Yamato shrugged. His mind drifted, and he was suddenly hyper-aware of Taichi's firm, muscled back against his own. The backs of their heads were touching, with Yamato's shaggy, silky hair blending into the fluffy mess on Taichi's head that probably hadn't been brushed in years.
They were in the park, relaxing on one of their final days of freedom before they started junior high. Yamato was fairly indifferent, but Taichi had been complaining up and down about their uniforms. (He seemed okay with everything else about middle school.) For a boy who had worn jerseys and athletic shorts his whole life, the stuffy school uniform was received with… mild distaste.
"Please take cooking with me?"
"No, Taichi."
"Please?"
"No."
"Please?"
"No!"
"Please?"
"No!"
"… Please?"
"OKAY, TAICHI, FINE," Yamato roared. "DAMN."
"Whoohoo!"
Yamato couldn't help but smirk a little as he copied 'cooking' down onto his schedule. "You're such an obnoxious brat…"
"You loooooove me," Taichi responded in sing-song.
Yamato didn't answer. He tucked one side of his hair behind his ear, and furrowed his brow.
At age twelve, it was already obvious that Ishida Yamato was very, very good-looking. He wasn't attractive in a masculine way, though his facial features were strong and defined like his father. He had his mother's sharp eyes and graceful throat, and his body was still painfully thin. Yamato refused to cut his hair any shorter than his chin, where it hung in shiny layers, half-pulled back.
In short, Yamato was very pretty. He was especially so sitting beside Yagami Taichi. Not that the other boy was unattractive; his eyes were a warm, caramel color rather than the typical Japanese ebony, and his body was already lined with hard, wiry muscle from intense athletic training. But he was incredibly wild and unkempt, with hair that stuck up like he had jammed his finger in an electrical socket while soaking wet, and skin that was browned from the sun, covered in scabs and bruises.
"I hope we're in the same homeroom," Taichi murmured. He shifted a little, and Yamato felt a ripple of sinew against his shoulders. The pale boy bit his lip to hold in a soft moan.
He was in love with Taichi. Yamato had quite possibly known this since he had learned what love was. It burned him deep inside, the intensity of what he felt for his friend. Nothing else was as true or as constant in Yamato's life… so as long as Taichi was by his side, Yamato would keep sacrificing everything to keep him there.
And Taichi could never know.
The problems started soon enough, when Yamato's father felt the inherent need to humiliate his son over a previously quiet dinner of Chinese takeout.
"Son, do you know what sex is?"
Yamato violently choked on his dumpling, and Hiroaki waited patiently (if not a little nervously) for his son to recover.
"W-what?"
"Sex," Hiroaki said calmly. "I know that kids today are growing up very fast, and I just want to make sure I get to you before some trash on the television or internet does."
"I know what sex is, Dad," Yamato mumbled. He pushed his food around his plate, suddenly not very hungry anymore.
"You do?"
"… Sort of. Mostly."
"So, you've… had thoughts?"
"Dad!"
"Yamato, I'm just asking!" Hiroaki held up his hands in a defensive manner. "It's perfectly normal for a boy your age to wonder about sex."
Yamato was silent. Then, "I'm never gonna have sex." He started eating again, though his eyes were cold.
Hiroaki raised an eyebrow. "Why not? It's a good thing, Ya--"
"I'm not going to!" the boy shouted. At his father's surprise, he sobered a bit. "You know I don't like people. I don't want to touch people either."
"Well, son, maybe not right now, but eventually--"
"I'm done." Yamato dropped his chopsticks and collected his dishes. "Thanks for dinner, Dad. I'm going to bed."
"Yamato!" Hiroaki called after his son.
"Goodnight."
Yamato closed his bedroom door behind him, heart pounding, and slid to the ground.
Of course he knew what sex was. He was twelve, for God's sake… and with the way the world worked today…
Yamato was not a very touchy-feely person. He had once smacked Takeru across the face out of reflex for hugging him. (Of course, Yamato immediately apologized and felt awful. Takeru understood.)
But… Taichi touching him was completely different. The shorter boy (yes, Taichi was a little shorter; the hair gave him the illusion of being just as tall as his friend) could send electricity up Yamato's spine just by brushing his shoulder. It was becoming a constant, irritating distraction to Yamato.
He quickly dressed for bed and brushed his teeth, glancing briefly at himself in the mirror. Girls liked him. They gave him chocolate on Valentine's Day (which of course was never reciprocated the following month, much to their dismay) and were constantly giggling behind his back about how gorgeous he was.
Yamato examined himself more closely. He was bone-thin and pale as a sheet, with cold eyes and hair that was too pretty and shiny to be a boy's. His boxers were nearly falling off of his narrow, jutting hipbones.
Yamato glared at this reflection, and then violently spit his toothpaste out into the sink.
The first dream took place at Taichi's house, on the family's beat-up sofa.
Yamato and Taichi were watching TV, which basically meant that the TV was on and Taichi was talking over it. Yamato didn't mind. He never minded. Taichi was better than TV anyway.
Suddenly, Taichi stopped his speech about how fun roller coasters were, and hesitantly reached out to skim his fingers over the lily-white underside of Yamato's forearm. His touch was hot and fleeting, and then their eyes met.
"Ne, Yamato," Taichi said. Somehow, the noise of the television faded away, and all Yamato could see and hear was Taichi. "Is it okay if I touch you?"
"You're already touching me," Yamato dared to whisper. His heart was now lodged somewhere in the vicinity of his throat, hammering in his ears. He gulped hard.
Taichi chuckled, and then began to lean in. "No, stupid. I mean like this…"
His hands dropped, gently lifting up the hem of Yamato's thin tee shirt. Yamato gasped sharply, as warm lips pressed against his throat. Taichi's hands spread out across his belly and began to caress the sensitive skin there.
"You taste good," Taichi murmured against his jawline. His hands moved up Yamato's back, burning a trail and making Yamato hiss. Then his lips found Yamato's pulse and began sucking gently.
"A-ah!" Yamato squirmed, trying to find something to hold onto. It ended up being Taichi's hair. He buried his fingers in the thick, fluffy mess and lost himself in sensation.
Damn... he was crying… It felt so perfect, so exquisitely right to have Taichi touching him like this. Every nerve in his body was on fire. Every inch of his body begged for more, to feel Taichi a--
BEEEEEEEEP--
Yamato cried out at the blaring of his alarm clock, promptly falling out of bed with an ungraceful thud.
He cursed quietly, rubbing at his sleep-caked eyes and sitting up a little. His sheets were pooled around him, still cool and damp with his sweat.
It was in this way that Yamato began his first day of junior high: frazzled, aggravated, and very much unlike his usual cool, composed self. He managed to shower and fix his hair without a hitch, though he couldn't help but notice how tired he looked. He slipped into the school uniform that hadn't even been opened yet, fastening the brass buttons… then abruptly changed his mind and left the front of the jacket open, exposing his white tee shirt.
Hiroaki had already left for work, so Yamato's departure from home was silent. He stopped by the Ai-Mart to purchase his usual: hot tea and a pre-packaged bento for his lunch.
Momoe, the ditzy girl whose family owned the convenience store, always greeted Yamato in the exact same way.
"Hey, cutie!"
Yamato grunted in reply, and pulled a thousand-yen bill from his wallet.
"Ooh, wow!" Momoe squealed. "You look so handsome in your uniform! I didn't know you started school today, Yamato-kun!"
Why did I tell you my name again? "Everyone starts school today," Yamato mumbled. "Can I have my change, please?"
"'Course!" Momoe giggled. She rang up his tea and bento, and counted out his change with surprising deftness for one so spacey.
Yamato continued his walk to the bus station from there in relative peace.
Odaiba Middle School was not prestigious in any way. Not that it was a bad school; it just wasn't exactly new and shiny. The teachers were disgruntled, and the students weren't very motivated.
Yamato didn't mind. School meant he had the opportunity to see Taichi every day, so that was a good thing. As soon as he reached his classroom, 5-B, he began scoping the room for the head of crazy hair he knew too well.
He found Taichi immediately, sitting on a desk in the back and chatting with a girl. His jacket was also unbuttoned, but the shirt underneath wasn't even white; it was blue. His sleeves were rolled up, and his eyes sparkled when he saw his best friend.
God, he was so beautiful.
"Oi, Yamato!" Taichi called. "Come and meet Sora-chan!"
Yamato slowly made his way to the back of the room, eyeing this newcomer. 'Sora-chan' was, first and foremost, a girl. A girl who was talking to Taichi. A girl Taichi called '-chan'. That sent an angry shock through Yamato, and any other good things about her were instantly nullified.
"I'm Takenouchi Sora," the girl said. "My family just moved here about a week ago. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu."
Sora spoke in soft, melodic Kyoto-ben. She was a little shorter than Yamato, about Taichi's height, and in Yamato's opinion was exceedingly plain-looking. Her hair was straight and cut in the popular shoulder-length style. Her eyes were small, and she was rather shapeless.
Yamato grunted in acknowledgement, but didn't introduce himself. He took the seat beside Taichi and stared straight ahead.
Taichi scowled. "Oh, come on." He turned to the girl from Kyoto, and flashed her a dazzling smile. "Don't mind him, Sora-chan. This guy has a stick up his ass, but he's my best friend. His name's Ishida Yamato. We grew up together."
Don't smile like that at her! "Where's the teacher?" Yamato asked rather snappishly.
"She was in here a minute ago," Taichi answered. "Said she had to go make some copies or something."
Then Sora spoke up again: "Ano sa… Ishida-kun, what exploratory classes are you taking this semester?"
Yamato did not reply. He just fixed her with his best and most condescending scowl, which in turn made her sink back into her chair.
"Yamato!" Taichi cried. "Jeez, man, what's wrong with you? Sora-chan's new, and you're being an asshole!"
"You know I'm an asshole," Yamato replied angrily. "You've known that since we were five."
"That doesn't give you the right to be rude to new students!" Taichi hopped off of the desk he sat upon, and moved to stand in front of his friend's. "What's with you lately?"
The young athlete almost looked saddened. It was heart-wrenching enough for Yamato to look away and mutter a rough "Sorry…"
His apology made Taichi relax a little "S'fine. I understand how you can get. But… I am allowed to have other friends, you know."
No, you're not. "I know."
Yuuki looked mildly uncomfortable, and she interrupted her father's story with a stuttered question: "Y-you... went to middle school with her?"
"I've told you that before, haven't I?" Ishida frowned. "I'm sorry, Yuu-chan. Yeah, I met Sora in seventh grade."
Confused, Hiroko put her pen down for a moment. "Takenouchi Sora-san… Is she someone important?"
Yuuki blinked. "Well, yeah… I mean, she's the one who--"
"No," Ishida interrupted. "She's not important."
At the meaningful look shared between father and daughter, Hiroko felt that she was missing out on something very vital.
But it wasn't her place to go snooping around.
"Please continue, Ishida-san."
Author's Notes
-Mm… I don't really know what I feel about this chapter. When I was re-reading it, it seemed almost… schizophrenic. XD I don't know how to explain it better. In any case, it's been finished for about a week now; I've just been tweaking it. I figured I'd start getting "OH GOD YOU HAVENT DIED AGAIN RITE??" emails if I didn't update soon. So, here you go! Hope you don't think it's weird. (Sorry it's shorter than the last one! I'll make the next chapter longer to make up for it.)
-Does anyone know if Yamato's father's name is Masaharu or Hiroaki? I prefer Hiroaki, but I've heard that both are correct, and I'm wondering which is the right one to use. If it's Masaharu, I'll go back and change it. :)
-I'm not very familiar with Kansai-ben, so please correct any mistakes in Sora's speech pattern for me. Since her father works at Kyoto University in the canon universe, I thought it'd be neat to make her family from Kyoto in this story. For those who don't know, Kyoto-ben (a Japanese dialect spoken in… well, Kyoto) is much softer and more polite than the Tokyo variety (which is what I've studied.) Originally I had her introduce herself with "Yoroshuu tanomimangana," until I was informed by a friend that a.) it's Osaka-ben, not Kyoto-ben, and b.) that expression is outdated anyway; most people use the regular "Yoroshiku onegaishimasu."
-For the record, I'm pretty sure Japanese students don't get to choose their own schedules… but it was for the sake of the plot. Gomen, gomen. (-sweatdrop-) I hate being inaccurate…
-Okay, now- about updates! At the moment, guys, I'm positive I can give you at least monthly chapters that are twelve pages long without adding author's notes. I'm working this summer, and in the mornings I babysit my younger brothers while my dad and stepmom work opposite shifts. So, trust me, I'm writing whenever I possibly can! When school starts up for me again, I'll be able to write more. (Funny how that works, isn't it?) What I usually do is sit in the back of the room and write down ideas in a notebook, then come straight home and type them. (My teachers just think I'm taking really thorough notes. They're probably wondering why I'm a straight B-and-C student…)
Replies to Reviewers
DarkMetalAngel of Destruction: Thank you so much! Unfortunately, the cuteness is pretty much over. It's all angst from here on out.
splintered: I love hearing about readers' specific favorite parts. Thank you for the detailed review!
krad: Thank you. X3 I have four younger brothers, and I sort of modeled chibi-Tai after the youngest… He's a spastic goofball too.
Devildelivery: Since "Miko" is a female name, I'm assuming the cat is a girl. I did notice that I accidentally called her 'him' once. My bad. I fixed it.
And I guess it's time for me to go back and re-watch the entire first season, because I really don't remember seeing Susumu in anything but the beginning of Bokura no War Game, when Taichi and Hikari were younger. I know he was very drunk then, and Yuuko was trying to keep him away from the kids… Thank you for telling me, though. I'll check up on that. And thank you for the review!
Courage Sun: Mm, maybe not kill you in your sleep, probably more like glare very intensely in your direction and think nasty thoughts. XD Thanks for reviewing! (For the record, Taichi would definitely hug you back.)
Syrinx Flute: Thank you so much for catching that mistake! When I looked back and saw that you were right, I had a major headdesk moment… No worries, though. 'Tis fixed. :3 Another big thank you for the review and the fav!
ranmyaku-neko: At the moment I'm doing monthly updates with this story, but I'll probably do twice-a-month after I get on a roll. :) Thank you for reviewing!
Much Love,
Tisbee