Evenings Part 8: Watching Over

A/N: One-sided Sorato

"...Sora."

The redhead stirred beside him, but barely, grumbling in her near-slumber. "What, Yamato?" She hated when he did this- asking questions in the middle of the night when she had shopping to do on top of keeping an eye on him. Sometimes, she contemplated just breaking the entire thing off, but then where- or what –would she be without him? According to her mother: nothing.

"Do you ever wonder what the others are up to?"

"Others?"

"...the other Chosen. I mean, we barely talk to our friends anymore, Sora. Isn't there something wrong with that?"

"Yamato, we have a family now. We can't be distracted and setting bad examples for the children."

In the dark the blonde twisted his lips. He had annoyed her, otherwise she wouldn't have brought up that truly brief period of self loathing he had gone through to pull his guilt strings. "We didn't even invite them to the wedding..."

"They have their own lives, too," Sora continued, "Otherwise, they would reach out to us. It's a two way street."

Yamato held his tongue. She was probably right about that. Taichi and Koushiro were raising their kids. Takeru and Hikari were, too. Mimi was constantly busy with her career. Yamato wasn't even sure what Jyou was up to, except that he had a very busy life as a brain surgeon. The thought made him smile- Jyou was making quite the name for himself now...

Still, days being filled with what little he could do with Hanako without Sora flipping out on him for no reason or working at the shop were dull and downright lonely. He had wanted to make Sora happy from the beginning and he tried to kiss her, give her a gentle touch, but she always pulled away. Just as well; his heart wasn't in it. He figured after their first Christmas and their resulting break up he was this scary, sick thing to her and if he hadn't knocked her up somehow, this entire marriage would've been avoided.

"Sora..." he whispered. She was sound asleep, anyway. He just wanted to hear his own voice say her name to make sure he wasn't dreaming as he looked down at himself. He tilted his head back against the headboard and sighed. He then reached into the nearby drawer for his cigarettes and got out of bed, grabbing his robe which was full of holes but at least covered his bare skin, and headed towards the living room and the balcony beyond it. In the hall, though, he stopped to peek into the kids' room and check on them.

The first time Tsukuyomi had a nightmare he just about had a heart attack. He recalled it now vividly and his own nightmares threatened to take over. With a pain in his voice he pulled away from the door and started down the hall.

"What are you doing?"

Yamato turned back. Sora was there in her nightgown, holding herself close with sleepy eyes. She blinked wearily at him, waiting for a response.

"I was getting a cigarette. I didn't want to wake you."

"Well, you did," she sighed. "Why were you checking in on them?"

"...I was worried."

"...why?" she wondered.

"I'm their father. It's my job to worry if they're alright."

"They've got us right down the hall. The doors are locked, the security my mother generously pays for is armed. Unless there's something else..."

Yamato growled to himself, "I didn't sleep well at that age. If they have a problem, I want to help them through it because I never had anyone."

"You still don't sleep well," Sora chuckled with disdain. "Just come back to bed already."

"I think I'll sleep out here."

"And why is that? I always wake up in the middle of the night and you're gone. Why is that?"

"Sora, if you want to accuse me of something, do it. Otherwise go back to sleep."

"...alright then," she sighed, throwing down her arms. She headed back to the room and went back to sleep.

Yamato couldn't understand why she despised him so. She had no reason to, therefore no reason came to his mind as he headed out to the balcony and smoked. He thought that maybe she suspected he was cheating- after all, she continued to bring up his childhood and his many mistakes he was trying so hard to redeem himself for.

She probably thought he did those things for pleasure. God, that was so far gone from the truth he didn't want to know what anyone would think if they knew he just outright hated himself, his family, his life... and yet everyday he lived contradictory to all of it. He said he was doing fine, he was handling things. He did love his family, but he wasn't able to show it and therefore slowly was beginning to see himself pull away into a life of work, home, sleep, like his own father.

He finished the cigarette and headed back inside, finding the indent of the couch he had long-since made and tried desperately to get a good night's sleep so he could wake and once again try to figure out where his life was going.