Last Chance
folder
Digimon › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
5
Views:
3,696
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Digimon › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
5
Views:
3,696
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Digimon: Digital Monsters, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Truth Clouded
Translation
-kun: a name ending usually reserved for boys, less formal than -san.
______________________________________
~A cute visual of Yamato and Takeru~
http://www.angelfire.com/emo2/whydoicry/Taketo.jpg
Takeru -- "You're always gonna be there for me, won't you?"
Yamato -- "Of course, you're my brother, I love you."
~~~~TAICHI~~~~
I had no idea what I could do to help Yamato; the slim, blond-haired boy was just sitting. He was wearing those unmistakable jeans and green sleeveless turtleneck, those ridiculously over-sized boots, yet he, like I, had left our gloves at home that day. He was still just a bit taller than me, and my forever unkempt hair was brown, as were my eyes. Yamato was the quiet one, and tended more to keep to himself, while I was always the first to jump up and say exactly what I thought. Yet when he did speak, he did so with a voice deep and full of friendship.
A nauseating sensation overwhelmed me as I truly began to comprehend exactly why we were there. Being in that sterile white room was the first thing that made it real; merely hearing the hushed, grave voices in the waiting area, the clop, clop, clop, of earnest staff bustling about from room to room made it true, and seeing Yamato made it explicitly undeniable. There would be nothing that could take it away. A doctor walked past me and went up to Yamato's father putting her hand on his shoulder, while Yama-kun sat alone in the background, in the shadows.
I looked at his careworn hands; he held them close to his face. He seemed to be looking for something in them, to be tracing every crease and fold of the skin, searching the curve of his fingers, and the star-like marking in the upper right hand corner. What he was looking for was a secret locked deep within him. One that could never be found out, unless he decided to tell it, for Yamato’s heart was hidden, and it was amid this tremulous torrent, past nebulous knowledge, and somewhere slightly east of the burning crimson dawn of dreams, emotions, hopes, and future- that was where- deep within his hidden heart, Yamato’s true soul lie.
I wondered, as I continued to watch him stare with contemplation at his hands, if even he realized what he was searching for. It seemed that he was blinded with doubt and fear, for he could not see the amazement that was but centimeters from his face. His hands had scaled endless mountains, and triumphed over great evil. They were hands that had comforted us when we lost all hope, and they were hands that had pushed us further than we ever thought possible. His hands, they may have been small hands, yet they had accomplished great things. And still, there Yamato sat, just staring at his hands; they slightly shook. Why there wasn't a flood of tears falling down into them? For so long, he had watched so closely over us all; he often cried, yet now, there were no tears.
I took a step, and then another. My legs were heavy, but I had to come. For Yamato. I walked past his father, and overheard the younger woman speaking to him “...I am so sorry about your-” she paused, “about Natsuko-san, and your poor son, Takeru. Are you and Yamato-kun holding up...” Slowly I walked up to Yamato, I could think of no words. It. Was. Over. Talking was something that I was always bad at; I would fumble my way through things, and never say what was meant to be said. "Yama-kun..." no response, "Yama-kun. I... I gotta talk to you," he was the last one to talk to Takeru, the last one to see him. Yamato hadn’t responded to me, his face was without expression, yet his hands- they were trembling. My hands met his as I reached out to him, and Yamato gasped, looking downward, shutting his eyes. His hands felt incredibly soft to the touch, yet his muscles were tense, "Yama,” I began again, “you're like a brother to me; I just want to help you, please..."
He pulled back, and opened his now tear-filled, intense, sapphire eyes. I shuddered aloud, catching a glimpse of deafening darkness, and he stared at me, looking directly into my soul; his voice quivered as he snarled, "You don't know anything about having a brother," and with that, he got up, letting his hands falling to his side; he stared down at me, turned, and walked away. “Yama…” I whispered to myself, hoping that somehow he would hear, “I just want to be there for you… I just want to be there... with you…” His father watched him, numb, only half-listening to the Doctor. How could he leave like that... I began to feel sick to my stomach; and felt lost among a sea of faces. Yamato... “Why don't you help your son?” I thought with disgust, looking at his father. He was the adult. The air grew even heavier, I couldn’t stand it, and I cried a soul-splitting scream, yet no one heard me. I tore towards the entrance. I felt as if I would suffocate. Finally I reached the door, threw it open, and was outside. Yamato, however, was nowhere to be found.
-kun: a name ending usually reserved for boys, less formal than -san.
______________________________________
~A cute visual of Yamato and Takeru~
http://www.angelfire.com/emo2/whydoicry/Taketo.jpg
Takeru -- "You're always gonna be there for me, won't you?"
Yamato -- "Of course, you're my brother, I love you."
~~~~TAICHI~~~~
I had no idea what I could do to help Yamato; the slim, blond-haired boy was just sitting. He was wearing those unmistakable jeans and green sleeveless turtleneck, those ridiculously over-sized boots, yet he, like I, had left our gloves at home that day. He was still just a bit taller than me, and my forever unkempt hair was brown, as were my eyes. Yamato was the quiet one, and tended more to keep to himself, while I was always the first to jump up and say exactly what I thought. Yet when he did speak, he did so with a voice deep and full of friendship.
A nauseating sensation overwhelmed me as I truly began to comprehend exactly why we were there. Being in that sterile white room was the first thing that made it real; merely hearing the hushed, grave voices in the waiting area, the clop, clop, clop, of earnest staff bustling about from room to room made it true, and seeing Yamato made it explicitly undeniable. There would be nothing that could take it away. A doctor walked past me and went up to Yamato's father putting her hand on his shoulder, while Yama-kun sat alone in the background, in the shadows.
I looked at his careworn hands; he held them close to his face. He seemed to be looking for something in them, to be tracing every crease and fold of the skin, searching the curve of his fingers, and the star-like marking in the upper right hand corner. What he was looking for was a secret locked deep within him. One that could never be found out, unless he decided to tell it, for Yamato’s heart was hidden, and it was amid this tremulous torrent, past nebulous knowledge, and somewhere slightly east of the burning crimson dawn of dreams, emotions, hopes, and future- that was where- deep within his hidden heart, Yamato’s true soul lie.
I wondered, as I continued to watch him stare with contemplation at his hands, if even he realized what he was searching for. It seemed that he was blinded with doubt and fear, for he could not see the amazement that was but centimeters from his face. His hands had scaled endless mountains, and triumphed over great evil. They were hands that had comforted us when we lost all hope, and they were hands that had pushed us further than we ever thought possible. His hands, they may have been small hands, yet they had accomplished great things. And still, there Yamato sat, just staring at his hands; they slightly shook. Why there wasn't a flood of tears falling down into them? For so long, he had watched so closely over us all; he often cried, yet now, there were no tears.
I took a step, and then another. My legs were heavy, but I had to come. For Yamato. I walked past his father, and overheard the younger woman speaking to him “...I am so sorry about your-” she paused, “about Natsuko-san, and your poor son, Takeru. Are you and Yamato-kun holding up...” Slowly I walked up to Yamato, I could think of no words. It. Was. Over. Talking was something that I was always bad at; I would fumble my way through things, and never say what was meant to be said. "Yama-kun..." no response, "Yama-kun. I... I gotta talk to you," he was the last one to talk to Takeru, the last one to see him. Yamato hadn’t responded to me, his face was without expression, yet his hands- they were trembling. My hands met his as I reached out to him, and Yamato gasped, looking downward, shutting his eyes. His hands felt incredibly soft to the touch, yet his muscles were tense, "Yama,” I began again, “you're like a brother to me; I just want to help you, please..."
He pulled back, and opened his now tear-filled, intense, sapphire eyes. I shuddered aloud, catching a glimpse of deafening darkness, and he stared at me, looking directly into my soul; his voice quivered as he snarled, "You don't know anything about having a brother," and with that, he got up, letting his hands falling to his side; he stared down at me, turned, and walked away. “Yama…” I whispered to myself, hoping that somehow he would hear, “I just want to be there for you… I just want to be there... with you…” His father watched him, numb, only half-listening to the Doctor. How could he leave like that... I began to feel sick to my stomach; and felt lost among a sea of faces. Yamato... “Why don't you help your son?” I thought with disgust, looking at his father. He was the adult. The air grew even heavier, I couldn’t stand it, and I cried a soul-splitting scream, yet no one heard me. I tore towards the entrance. I felt as if I would suffocate. Finally I reached the door, threw it open, and was outside. Yamato, however, was nowhere to be found.