digimon fic: "lost chances"
So, yeah, I've been getting involved in a lot of discussion about Sorato/Taiora wars, and the reasons for each ship and whatnot. So, I decided to try to aproach the subject of Taiora from a Taiora fan's perspective, considering I used to be one, way back when Digimon aired the first time in Chile... I decided to try and make sense of the reason why it never happened, other than what we know, and this came out.
Beware of the angst...
Title: "Lost Chances"
Author: Me, duh...
Rating: PG-13
Words: 5,177
Characters/Pairings: Taichi/Sora, Yamato/Sora
Theme/Prompt: #17 - charity, from 5trueloves challenge; I chose Taichi now. Chart HERE
Warnings/AN: uhh, some innuendos, implied sex and nakedness, but nothing explicit
Summary: It's all about having bad timing...
Disclaimer: yadda, yadda, the usual
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He supposes that, somewhere, in the back of his mind, he's always been aware of his true feelings. But by some unfathomable reason, he's decided to ignore them.
And, consequently, ignore her feelings for him.
(You've always known of Sora's feelings for you, alwaysalwaysalways, but you've also known of Yamato's feelings for Sora, so you do the noble thing and ignore her feelings and her advances and treat her as you would treat any other good friend, because that's what she is, a friend-only a friend, right? Right.)
He is good at it, ignoring.
He ignores the wisps of despair he feels when he realizes she's finally given up, that Christmas Eve, when she gives Yamato (not you, Yamato) the cookies she probably baked herself. He also ignores the anger that soon mingles with the despair when she smiles apologetically at him, before going in to Yamato (not you, Yamato). Even weeks later, when he feels the pain twisting his guts every time he sees them, his friends, YamatoandSora, together (because they stopped being Yamato and Sora a long time ago in your mind), he ignores it.
Because it is the noble thing to do, the right thing to do, what any good friend would do (and suddenly Courage acquires a whole new meaning to you); an act of charity of his part.
Then, weeks turn into months, and months into years, and his friends relationship goes from on to off to on to off to on again, and all too soon they're all graduating and ready to start living, and with YamatoandSora's relationship still on, all he's left to do is keep ignoring and accept the scholarship to go to Spain and follow his dream career and become a professional football player.
All his friends, his closest friends, are there to see him off, and they're all sad and begging for him to stay. Hikari is crying and Daisuke is complaining and Sora (just keep ignoring), Sora is about to breakdown, he knows, and when she does she turns to Yamato for comfort (not you, Yamato), and he keeps ignoring, because that's what he does best and he smiles apologetically at her, at all of them and leaves.
(And you keep ignoring the pain and sadness and the anger and the sense of wrong that seems to be all over you and for some reason you're having a hard time ignoring that little voice in your head that's telling you that as soon you set foot on that plane you'll have lost your chance, but you do, eventually, because you're good at it-ignoring and you don't know what it is this chance you're losing.)
~
~
~
"Go."
Sora looks at her boyfriend (your boyfriend for the last five years, never mind that there were break ups in between, you always go back to him in the end), and watches his profile. His attractive features; his high cheekbones and ski hill nose and deep blue eyes and wild blonde hair. His well-built body still sends shiver through hers and she can only wonder, can only hope, that physical attraction were enough to be with someone.
(And you love him, God knows you love him, but you want to love him, you want to love him with every fiber of your being, completely, and you can't, you can't because you love somebody else like that already.)
Yamato rolls to her side and props himself up on his hands and hovers, looming over her and she can feel her body reacting to their close proximity and she thinks she hasn't wanted to love him more as she does now (you really, really want to be in love with him, but you can't). And although the sex is good (you're only human and, even though you're not in love with him, you do love him and you can't help but surrender to your desires, even more so when he knows all the right buttons to press to set your body on fire), great actually, it can only do so much for a relationship to work properly.
(Especially when you know, you know, the love is one-sided in this relationship of yours.)
He smiles at her, and her heart aches. "Don't worry about me, just go."
She reaches for him, bringing him in for a kiss, Yamato complies but doesn't let it go beyond that. And she wishes he would stop looking at her like that (like there's no one in this world more beautiful to him than you, like you mean the world to him), with so much love and devotion and trust, because it makes her want to cry and apologize and ("I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, Yamato, I want to, I want to love you so much, fall in love with you but I can't, I just can't") move on.
"What are you on about, Yamato?"
He smiles at her, again, and it tears at her heart, the sincerity of it, the genuineness of it.
"We both know this relationship is not going to last. Not with you being in love with Taichi," he says quietly.
"Yamato-"
"I guess I just hoped that someday, you would grow to love me as you love him."
She bits her lips, trying to hold in the tears. "I'm so-"
"Don't apologize, Sky," he interrupts, gently, (because he's never been anything more that gentle and loving with you). "It's my fault, really, I knew how you felt; dammit, I knew how he felt, and still… and I still pursued you, because I was selfish, Sora, and I didn't want to let you go."
He kisses her softly on the lips, caressing her face as an impossibly sad smile slip into his face. "I should've told you sooner, but, well… I'll do the right thing now."
She watches him roll off her, sliding off the bed (his bed, it's always his bed, never yours), and starts searching for his clothes. When he's gathered both their clothes, he moves back to the bed, and hands her hers. She sits up, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks and he doesn't hesitate to brush them away.
"You must know this, Sora," he says suddenly, and she looks at him intently, listening. "No matter what happens, I will always be here, always, right here waiting for you. You'll always have a friend in me, and, if you want, maybe something more too."
"Thank you, Yamato," she replies, and hugs him tight (because you realize, Yamato deserves the world and more, he deserves to be loved completely, without reservations, and you can't do that, not right now, not when there's another occupying your heart).
His only response is a kiss in your temple and the soothing circular motions he's drawing in your back. After a while, he pulls back and smirks at her.
"Now, come on, hurry up and get dress. I'm taking you to the airport."
"The airport?"
(His smirk only widens at your stricken expression, and there's something-suddenly, there's something there, right in your belly; a flutter, but it passes quickly, a feeling so fleeting you couldn't grasp it fully.)
"Of course, it's about high time you knock some sense into that moron of Taichi, don't you think?"
~
~
~
He’s been in Spain for only a year when he sees her (Sora, not YamatoandSora, just Sora), and it is with great surprise that he greets her in his apartment and admires the way her eyes shine with happiness when they hug and he can’t help but wonder about the source of it, her happiness. He takes her to a great place, where the best coffees are made, and he finally questions her sudden visit.
“Oh, well, about that, you see…”
She stumbles over her words, but the happiness is still there, still making her eyes shine and her face glow, and he feels that old feeling of completeness surge inside his chest, that old feeling he’s been ignoring for years, literally ignored during his High School years, but now he doesn’t squashes it down, he embraces it; he embraces it because there’s a sense of right in this scene and he feels no chains holding him down. He embraces it, until he hears her next words.
“Yamato and I broke up last week,” she says.
She’s smiling (a real, happy smile) at him, but the surprise overwhelms him and he can’t think properly and suddenly there are chains holding him down and this sense of wrong and (do the right thing, dammit, you’ve got to do the right thing!) nobility and he realizes ignoring is so deep instilled in him he can’t stop now.
He shakes his head, an apologetic smile on his face, and he keeps ignoring (the pain and sadness and anger and this sense of wrong that keeps twisting your guts).
“No, Sora, you have to go back and make up with him,” he says softly.
She looks at him, confusion written all over her face, but he keeps ignoring (just keep ignoring).
“No, Taichi, listen-”
“He loves you, Sora, he really does,” he interrupts, a little more firmly now.
“I know, but this was-”
“You have to get back together; it’s the way it is, the way it has to be.”
(You’re suddenly not sure who you’re trying to convince, you or her, but you keep ignoring, because it’s easy, because it’s best. Because you’re good at it.)
“Taichi, I love you.”
He finally looks at her and smiles, nodding. “Of course you do, I’m your best friend.”
“No, Taichi…”
“Sora, listen-”
“No, you listen!” she grabs his face, forcing him to meet her pleading gaze (and for one, wild, fleeting moment you think she’s going to kiss you). “I’m in love with you.”
(But, as with everything else related to Sora -because, in your mind, she’s still part of this unit you call YamatoandSora- you push any kind of awkward feelings away and ignore. Because you’re good at it. Because it’s best this way.)
“I’m… sorry.”
He can see, quite clearly at that, due to their proximity, how her world crashes around her in less than a full second, and he can’t do anything to stop it (because ignoring is so instilled into you, you just can’t help it now).
“I… see.”
The broken look on her face is too much for him to ignore, but before he can so much as blink she’s out of her chair, kisses his temple and leaves him there, in that great place where the best coffees are made (feeling as if you’ve just lost a precious chance, again).
(She leaves that same day, and you don’t hear from her until much, much later, when you finally decide to go back.)
~
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~
She feels horrible for coming to him after all that’s happened, but there really isn’t anywhere else to go (and he did say he’d be there, didn’t he, for you, always?). There’s music blasting from the apartment and she hopes it’s only him rehearsing because she doesn’t think she could handle the thought of Yamato, the only person who's promised to be there for her always, not being able to be there now. (Because you need him, like you never thought you’d need him before.)
When he opens the door she can practically feel his surprise and confusion, it’s right there, for everyone to see, in his eyes. It takes him several second to snap out of his stupor and he advances to her, gathering her in his arms (and there, there it is, that flutter of something again).
“Sora, what are you doing here? You should be in Spain, you-”
She cuts his sentence short by roughly grabbing the shirt’s collar and pulling him into a desperate kiss (and you try very hard to ignore the lipstick stain you saw on his neck and the stench of cheap perfume you still smell on his clothes, because you need this, you need him). For several seconds Yamato kisses her back with as much desperation, but then he seems to react because all of a sudden, he’s grabbing her wrists and pulling back from her.
“Yamato, please…”
She regrets her words as soon as they leave her mouth because she can see realization dawning on Yamato. And just like that, he knows.
“Ishida, come on! The girls are waiting here! What’s taking you so long with the pizzas-oh,” there’s a boy standing behind Yamato, peering at her with drunken eyes, a boy she doesn’t recognize. “Oh, that’s not the pizza boy. Who’s she, Ishida?”
But Yamato ignores him, his whole focus is on her (and you admit, albeit reluctantly, that being the sole source of his unwavering focus has always been a little intimidating, but now it makes you feel flutters of something in your belly). Gently, he pulls her into the apartment, and closes the door behind her.
“Wait here,” he says, and walks further into the apartment.
Everyone turn to look at her, and she tries her best to ignore them, but can’t, not right now, not when she’s feeling her world fall apart before her eyes. She sees a glimmer of recognition in one of the boy’s eyes, but before he can talk, Yamato’s suddenly there, shielding her from their view. He gives her his coat and helmet, and leads her out the apartment as he puts on his jacket.
(There’s this aura of leadership around Yamato, of protectiveness, of command, and you know better than to complain about his decisions now.)
He drives her to her apartment, ask briefly about her parents when they get there, and once she tells him they’re out of town, Yamato follows her in.
“Bath,” she says absentmindedly and goes to the bathroom, unaware of Yamato’s presence looming behind her like a shadow.
She fills the tub and undresses and steps into the water (and only then you become aware of his presence, when you feel his steady gaze searching your face, for what, you don’t know), he sits on the edge of the tub and grabs her hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
(Why is it that every time you’re with Yamato you feel like walking on the edge of a knife?)
She lets herself cry then.
“What happened?”
“Nothing, nothing happened… absolutely nothing.”
“Sora…”
She sobs, pulling her knees up and resting her head on them. “He doesn’t love me. I don’t think he ever did, and if that was the case, he clearly doesn’t anymore.”
“Then I must say, he is more of an idiot than what I thought.”
Yamato pulls her up and hugs her to him, giving her as much comfort as he can provide (and you can still see the lipstick stain on his neck and smell that cheap perfume and you hate it), obviously not caring about getting his shirt wet. Silently, and moving her hands quickly, expertly, she strips him of his shirt and of the smell, and almost as an afterthought she rubs the lipstick stain away from his neck.
“Make love to me, Yamato.”
Her request is sudden and it surprises her as much as him, but he takes it calmly and stares at her, questioning with his eyes (because sex is good, sex is fine, is noncommittal and easy and you can still retain a sense of freedom and), making love, after all, requires a greater degree of commitment from both parties, a greater bond that just one-sided love. Sora knows this, and while she cannot meet all the requirements, she can try.
(You want this; you really want this. And if fate allows it, Yamato will want it too, and you’d be together, side by side, like you’ve always been for the last five years-never mind the break ups in between, because in the end you always come back to him, always.)
He trails his hands down her spine in a feather-like caress, going over her ass slowly, and then grips her thighs firmly before hoisting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist. His eyes darken a few shades and he carries her to her room (and you’re excited and terrified and confused and overwhelmed and you feel oh so thoroughly loved that you finally embrace the thought… the thought of allowing Yamato into your bed), he lays her on the mattress and rests his weigh on her.
(The familiarity of it all is reassuring in a way, because now you know you can move on.)
“Sora, look at me, all through this… Don’t close your eyes, just keep looking at me,” he says tenderly.
And she does.
~
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It takes him five years, five long years, and a dozen of failed attempts at having a real relationship along with a talk with his creepy old neighbor, to understand why he’s been ignoring all these years. And the answer is so simple it’s almost funny but it’s not because it only mean he’s wasted ten years, ten fucking years trying to avoid the unavoidable.
He’s in love with Sora.
(Somewhere, in the darkest corner of your mind, you’ve always known. You’re in love with Sora, as simple as that, no more ignoring this simple fact, no more acts of charity. Screw friendship, screw Yamato, it’s about time you get your happily ever after.)
However, he soon learns, his realization comes far too late.
When he manages to track her down, he discovers she now lives in the fanciest neighborhood of Tokyo, in a fancy building with fancy apartments, and it’s only with the help of a little boy (“Oh, the flower lady? She lives in the penthouse, last floor”) that he gets her exact address.
All the way to the last floor (and why, goddammit, does the elevator take so long?), he’s revising the speech he prepared for this occasion. It’s a simple speech, really, God knows he can’t remember things when he’s too nervous and right now, he’s way over his head. He has it all ready, all planned out; as soon as she opens the door he’ll confess and the explain why he took so long and they will kiss and make love and finallyfinallyfinally live happily ever after.
Only, that’s not how it happens.
He knocks on her door and she answers it with a smile that freezes on her face as soon as she sees him and he can’t seem to remember his plan anymore. She’s so beautiful, with her red hair (and you can see, it’s longer, much longer now) and ruby eyes and tempting lips and slender body that sets his own on fire every time without fail.
She’s beautiful, and he loves her.
“I’m in love with you, Sora,” he finally says and doesn’t wait for her reply as he grabs her face and kisses her.
Her hands move slowly to grip his biceps and he moves his hands around her waist and he rejoices in the wonderful feeling that engulfs him now and the happiness and the elation and this sense of right and finally. But it all dies, slowly, as he realizes the kiss (the first kiss, your first kiss, together) is only one-sided and-
“Why is that mister kissing mommy, daddy?”
-and Sora is not kissing him back, is not hugging him back. And when he pulls away, she’s not smiling at him.
An overwhelming fear grips his heart and he’s terrified (for once, you’re truly, really terrified) to look at the source of that sweet, innocent voice. But he does anyway, he turns to look and right there down the hallway is a little girl.
A cute little girl, with bright, blue eyes and blonde hair and a smiling face (and that face, you know well).
He moves his gaze upwards (away from the pain, away from the sadness and despair you can no longer ignore) and meets Yamato’s blank stare. He’s holding a bag of groceries in one arm and a baby boy in the other.
(And it’s that sight precisely what ends up breaking your heart.)
A cute, red-haired, red-eyed, baby boy, who’s looking at him curiously while sucking at his pacifier and clutching Yamato’s jumper in a tight grip.
“Oh…” he whisper, and realizes belatedly that Sora is pushing him away gently.
“Because he is a friend of mommy and I,” Yamato say finally, walking towards them with his daughter (their daughter, it’s their daughter) in tow. “He just came back from a long trip and is just happy to see mommy.”
The girl smiles up at her father, all bright and happy. “Like when you come back from a trip?”
Yamato smiles too, and it’s a smile so rare and genuine it hurts him to see it. “Yes, like when I come back from a trip.”
He can’t help but feel like he’s intruding into a very private moment, so without realizing it really, he moves back a few steps.
(You don’t know how to ignore this anymore, you can’t, so you can’t prevent the pain and sadness and anger from showing in your eyes.)
He watches Sora kneel in front of her daughter (hers, and Yamato’s, theirs, not yours, never yours), and she caresses her face and kisses her temple and smiles that smile she gave him all those years ago, when she visited him in Spain.
When he broke her heart.
“Enjoyed your stroll?”
“Uh-huh,” says the little girl, smiling at her (all bright and happy).
“Good. Now why don’t you go inside with daddy and start supper, okay?”
“Can we make sushi, mommy?”
“Of course.”
“Yay!” exclaims the little girl, and after giving Sora a quick and hearty hug, she runs inside the apartment.
He wants to say something, but Yamato is suddenly there, in front of Sora, looking at her in a way he can’t quite comprehend. Having his arms full, it is Sora the one who seeks contact, reaching out and touching the arm that’s holding the baby boy. Yamato keeps looking at her, even when she breaks their gaze, turning her attention to her son (hers, and Yamato’s, theirs, not yours, never yours).
“Had a good time, honey?”
The baby boy nods his head, still sucking at his pacifier, and reaches for her but then he catches his eyes and reverts to clutching Yamato’s jumper. Sora looks back at the blonde man and he gives her a small, reassuring smile, before leaning down and kissing her temple.
“Take your time.”
(And it breaks, breaksbreaksbreaks, your heart the look in his eyes, because there’s so much love and devotion and trust it tears at your soul viciously, and you can’t, can’tcan’tcan’t, help but think you’ve done a terrible mistake by coming back.)
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“I’m pregnant.”
She doesn’t intend to drop this on him like that, but she can no longer keep it in. The pressure is too much; everything is suddenly too much. She winces when Yamato blanches, and collapses onto the armchair across from her, his eyes wide and unbelieving.
“I’m sorry, I know we decided to take things slowly, to see if we really are meant to be, and… and… I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen, Yamato, I-”
“How…” he interrupts her rambles gently. “How far along… are you?”
“Three months.”
He nods and lowers his gaze, he doesn’t say anything for the longest of time, and she can’t take it (it’s simply too much for you to handle, it’s just too much).
“I didn’t mean to ruin-”
He doesn’t let her finish that sentence and he’s there, right there, in front of her, holding her hands and smiling reassuringly at her (even though he’s as scared and confused as you are). “No, Sora, you didn’t ruin anything, I… I’ll think of something, okay? We’ll get through this, together, just… just let me think of something, I…”
(He seems to have made a decision, just like that, no further thinking, and gripping your hands a little bit tighter, he meets your teary gaze.)
“Marry me.”
“Yamato?”
“Marry me, Sora. It doesn’t have to be now, it doesn’t even have to be before the baby’s born, just…” he trails off, and releases her hand to undo the clasp of his necklace.
A simple golden chain with a Y-shaped charm on it; he holds it up, looking at it fondly and then places it on her hands, closing them with his own (you know, it is the one significant present he has of his mother, and he’s giving it to you).
“Marry me, Sora, whenever you’re ready, because I’ll wait, you know I will, always.”
“Oh, Yamato…” she frees one of her hands and reaches out to caress his face tenderly, lovingly.
“I really want this to work, Sora, I want to be there for you, both of you, always.”
She gives him a watery smile. “I’d really like that… so I guess my answer is yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes,” she replies, nodding enthusiastically.
(And you let him pull you into a fierce hug, and pray for him to never let go; you wish, deep within your heart, that he never let go.)
She might not be in love with him yet, but she’s close-she’s very close, and somehow, that is enough.
~
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~
Yamato goes inside then, not before looking at him over his shoulder and nodding his head in acknowledgement and (“It’s good to have you back, Taichi”) greeting him politely. And after what seems an eternity, he looks at her, only to find her looking at him intently, an apologetic smile on her face.
(You want to rage and cry and shake her until she sees reason because it’s not supposed to be like this, it’s not supposed to be YamatoandSora anymore but TaichiandSora with lots of children, all of whom would have his wild hair and her kindness and their sense of adventure, and can’t she see you came back for her, to finally be with her, because you don’t want to keep going on ignoring it all anymore?!)
And it’s déjà vu all over again.
Only this time, he doesn’t hide his feelings.
“Oh…”
“Taichi-”
“No, no, I’m sorry I… God, I feel like a fool. Of course you wouldn’t wait for me all these years, but I just thought… well, I thought-” he cuts his sentence short, running his hands over his hair, trying to find a way to ease the pain.
“I’m sorry-”
“No, Sora, it’s okay. Just…” he takes a deep breath, and lifts his gaze to hers. “Just let me ask you something.”
She nods, and smiles sadly at him and he can see… he can see the pain in her eyes and sadness and anger and despair and a sense of lost it almost chokes him with its intensity. And he doesn’t know if it is her feeling those emotions or if it’s only a reflection of his own.
But it is her, because laying underneath all, there this happiness shining deep within her and he knows, what he couldn’t bear to think on his way here has happened. She’s moved on.
(And you don’t know what hurts you the most-if seeing her like this, wearing a wedding band on her finger; or seeing her like this, wearing that golden chain with that Y-shaped charm around her neck.)
“Does he loves you?” he whispers (“Does he loves you like I do?”) and begs her to tell him the truth.
“Yes, he does,” she answers truthfully. “He loves me very, very much… probably more than I actually deserve.”
“You deserve everything, Sora.”
She smiles a little less sadly and nods. “He gives me everything, Taichi.”
He closes the distance between them on a whim (because it hurts too much to have her there, in front of you, and know that you can’t have her now, too damn much), and grabs her arms, searching her eyes for some kind of sign, anything that tells him she wants this as much as he does.
But there is none (only sadness, there’s only a deep, heartbreaking sadness).
“Do you love him?” he asks. “Do you love him, Sora?”
(Do you love him as much as you love me; you want to ask.)
She moves away from his hold, grabbing his hands instead, and sighs. “I love him enough.”
He grits his teeth, jaw tightening, but refrains from pointing out that that’s not the answer he wants (and you want to rage and cry and shake her), because enough is not an answer, not the right answer.
(Enough to what, you want to ask, to demand, but you don’t because you know the answer, it’s right there, punching you in the face.)
“I love him enough,” she says, willing him to understand.
But there’s nothing to understand, he knows.
(She loves him enough to spend her life with him and be happy. She loves him enough to bear his children and raise them with all the love of the world. She loves him enough to marry him and build a happy family with him.)
She loves him enough to move on, with him.
The golden chain, her golden chain, catches some of the sun’s rays and it shines, almost mockingly at him, and he wants to wince but manages to hold back.
For her sake.
(Because you broke her heart once, without a second thought, and it’s not fair to try to ruin the happy life she’s got now. To try to blame her for doing what it is expected of her; for moving on.)
So he steps back, for her sake.
“Good, I’m… I’m glad,” he says, his voice trembling. “You’re happy now, that’s good and I… I’m happy for you.”
She closes the distance then, and hugs him, tight, she hugs him tight and he relishes her touch and he wants to cry and when she pulls back enough to look at him in the eyes and kisses him (softly, like you always thought your first real kiss would be), he does cry but he kisses her back anyway.
The kiss is bittersweet and tender and sad and lovely and everything he ever wanted and in a different reality, this thing between them might have worked but now… now this is a goodbye, the kiss. It’s final; it’s closure.
(Hers and yours, TaichiandSora’s closure.)
She breaks the kiss, gives him a teary smile, and pats his cheek. “You’ll be fine,” she says and finally steps back.
He watches her give him one last glance before going back into the apartment, closing the door behind her.
(The definite click of the door shutting close echoes in the hallway and in your heart and you know, you know you’ve lost again, like your first chance and you second chance, only this time it isn’t your decision.)
He supposes that, somewhere, in the back of his mind, he’s always known of his love for Sora. He only wishes he’d been able to realize it sooner.
(It’s hers.)
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Comments are welcomed!! =D
Beware of the angst...
Title: "Lost Chances"
Author: Me, duh...
Rating: PG-13
Words: 5,177
Characters/Pairings: Taichi/Sora, Yamato/Sora
Theme/Prompt: #17 - charity, from 5trueloves challenge; I chose Taichi now. Chart HERE
Warnings/AN: uhh, some innuendos, implied sex and nakedness, but nothing explicit
Summary: It's all about having bad timing...
Disclaimer: yadda, yadda, the usual
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He supposes that, somewhere, in the back of his mind, he's always been aware of his true feelings. But by some unfathomable reason, he's decided to ignore them.
And, consequently, ignore her feelings for him.
(You've always known of Sora's feelings for you, alwaysalwaysalways, but you've also known of Yamato's feelings for Sora, so you do the noble thing and ignore her feelings and her advances and treat her as you would treat any other good friend, because that's what she is, a friend-only a friend, right? Right.)
He is good at it, ignoring.
He ignores the wisps of despair he feels when he realizes she's finally given up, that Christmas Eve, when she gives Yamato (not you, Yamato) the cookies she probably baked herself. He also ignores the anger that soon mingles with the despair when she smiles apologetically at him, before going in to Yamato (not you, Yamato). Even weeks later, when he feels the pain twisting his guts every time he sees them, his friends, YamatoandSora, together (because they stopped being Yamato and Sora a long time ago in your mind), he ignores it.
Because it is the noble thing to do, the right thing to do, what any good friend would do (and suddenly Courage acquires a whole new meaning to you); an act of charity of his part.
Then, weeks turn into months, and months into years, and his friends relationship goes from on to off to on to off to on again, and all too soon they're all graduating and ready to start living, and with YamatoandSora's relationship still on, all he's left to do is keep ignoring and accept the scholarship to go to Spain and follow his dream career and become a professional football player.
All his friends, his closest friends, are there to see him off, and they're all sad and begging for him to stay. Hikari is crying and Daisuke is complaining and Sora (just keep ignoring), Sora is about to breakdown, he knows, and when she does she turns to Yamato for comfort (not you, Yamato), and he keeps ignoring, because that's what he does best and he smiles apologetically at her, at all of them and leaves.
(And you keep ignoring the pain and sadness and the anger and the sense of wrong that seems to be all over you and for some reason you're having a hard time ignoring that little voice in your head that's telling you that as soon you set foot on that plane you'll have lost your chance, but you do, eventually, because you're good at it-ignoring and you don't know what it is this chance you're losing.)
~
~
~
"Go."
Sora looks at her boyfriend (your boyfriend for the last five years, never mind that there were break ups in between, you always go back to him in the end), and watches his profile. His attractive features; his high cheekbones and ski hill nose and deep blue eyes and wild blonde hair. His well-built body still sends shiver through hers and she can only wonder, can only hope, that physical attraction were enough to be with someone.
(And you love him, God knows you love him, but you want to love him, you want to love him with every fiber of your being, completely, and you can't, you can't because you love somebody else like that already.)
Yamato rolls to her side and props himself up on his hands and hovers, looming over her and she can feel her body reacting to their close proximity and she thinks she hasn't wanted to love him more as she does now (you really, really want to be in love with him, but you can't). And although the sex is good (you're only human and, even though you're not in love with him, you do love him and you can't help but surrender to your desires, even more so when he knows all the right buttons to press to set your body on fire), great actually, it can only do so much for a relationship to work properly.
(Especially when you know, you know, the love is one-sided in this relationship of yours.)
He smiles at her, and her heart aches. "Don't worry about me, just go."
She reaches for him, bringing him in for a kiss, Yamato complies but doesn't let it go beyond that. And she wishes he would stop looking at her like that (like there's no one in this world more beautiful to him than you, like you mean the world to him), with so much love and devotion and trust, because it makes her want to cry and apologize and ("I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, Yamato, I want to, I want to love you so much, fall in love with you but I can't, I just can't") move on.
"What are you on about, Yamato?"
He smiles at her, again, and it tears at her heart, the sincerity of it, the genuineness of it.
"We both know this relationship is not going to last. Not with you being in love with Taichi," he says quietly.
"Yamato-"
"I guess I just hoped that someday, you would grow to love me as you love him."
She bits her lips, trying to hold in the tears. "I'm so-"
"Don't apologize, Sky," he interrupts, gently, (because he's never been anything more that gentle and loving with you). "It's my fault, really, I knew how you felt; dammit, I knew how he felt, and still… and I still pursued you, because I was selfish, Sora, and I didn't want to let you go."
He kisses her softly on the lips, caressing her face as an impossibly sad smile slip into his face. "I should've told you sooner, but, well… I'll do the right thing now."
She watches him roll off her, sliding off the bed (his bed, it's always his bed, never yours), and starts searching for his clothes. When he's gathered both their clothes, he moves back to the bed, and hands her hers. She sits up, tears slowly rolling down her cheeks and he doesn't hesitate to brush them away.
"You must know this, Sora," he says suddenly, and she looks at him intently, listening. "No matter what happens, I will always be here, always, right here waiting for you. You'll always have a friend in me, and, if you want, maybe something more too."
"Thank you, Yamato," she replies, and hugs him tight (because you realize, Yamato deserves the world and more, he deserves to be loved completely, without reservations, and you can't do that, not right now, not when there's another occupying your heart).
His only response is a kiss in your temple and the soothing circular motions he's drawing in your back. After a while, he pulls back and smirks at her.
"Now, come on, hurry up and get dress. I'm taking you to the airport."
"The airport?"
(His smirk only widens at your stricken expression, and there's something-suddenly, there's something there, right in your belly; a flutter, but it passes quickly, a feeling so fleeting you couldn't grasp it fully.)
"Of course, it's about high time you knock some sense into that moron of Taichi, don't you think?"
~
~
~
He’s been in Spain for only a year when he sees her (Sora, not YamatoandSora, just Sora), and it is with great surprise that he greets her in his apartment and admires the way her eyes shine with happiness when they hug and he can’t help but wonder about the source of it, her happiness. He takes her to a great place, where the best coffees are made, and he finally questions her sudden visit.
“Oh, well, about that, you see…”
She stumbles over her words, but the happiness is still there, still making her eyes shine and her face glow, and he feels that old feeling of completeness surge inside his chest, that old feeling he’s been ignoring for years, literally ignored during his High School years, but now he doesn’t squashes it down, he embraces it; he embraces it because there’s a sense of right in this scene and he feels no chains holding him down. He embraces it, until he hears her next words.
“Yamato and I broke up last week,” she says.
She’s smiling (a real, happy smile) at him, but the surprise overwhelms him and he can’t think properly and suddenly there are chains holding him down and this sense of wrong and (do the right thing, dammit, you’ve got to do the right thing!) nobility and he realizes ignoring is so deep instilled in him he can’t stop now.
He shakes his head, an apologetic smile on his face, and he keeps ignoring (the pain and sadness and anger and this sense of wrong that keeps twisting your guts).
“No, Sora, you have to go back and make up with him,” he says softly.
She looks at him, confusion written all over her face, but he keeps ignoring (just keep ignoring).
“No, Taichi, listen-”
“He loves you, Sora, he really does,” he interrupts, a little more firmly now.
“I know, but this was-”
“You have to get back together; it’s the way it is, the way it has to be.”
(You’re suddenly not sure who you’re trying to convince, you or her, but you keep ignoring, because it’s easy, because it’s best. Because you’re good at it.)
“Taichi, I love you.”
He finally looks at her and smiles, nodding. “Of course you do, I’m your best friend.”
“No, Taichi…”
“Sora, listen-”
“No, you listen!” she grabs his face, forcing him to meet her pleading gaze (and for one, wild, fleeting moment you think she’s going to kiss you). “I’m in love with you.”
(But, as with everything else related to Sora -because, in your mind, she’s still part of this unit you call YamatoandSora- you push any kind of awkward feelings away and ignore. Because you’re good at it. Because it’s best this way.)
“I’m… sorry.”
He can see, quite clearly at that, due to their proximity, how her world crashes around her in less than a full second, and he can’t do anything to stop it (because ignoring is so instilled into you, you just can’t help it now).
“I… see.”
The broken look on her face is too much for him to ignore, but before he can so much as blink she’s out of her chair, kisses his temple and leaves him there, in that great place where the best coffees are made (feeling as if you’ve just lost a precious chance, again).
(She leaves that same day, and you don’t hear from her until much, much later, when you finally decide to go back.)
~
~
~
She feels horrible for coming to him after all that’s happened, but there really isn’t anywhere else to go (and he did say he’d be there, didn’t he, for you, always?). There’s music blasting from the apartment and she hopes it’s only him rehearsing because she doesn’t think she could handle the thought of Yamato, the only person who's promised to be there for her always, not being able to be there now. (Because you need him, like you never thought you’d need him before.)
When he opens the door she can practically feel his surprise and confusion, it’s right there, for everyone to see, in his eyes. It takes him several second to snap out of his stupor and he advances to her, gathering her in his arms (and there, there it is, that flutter of something again).
“Sora, what are you doing here? You should be in Spain, you-”
She cuts his sentence short by roughly grabbing the shirt’s collar and pulling him into a desperate kiss (and you try very hard to ignore the lipstick stain you saw on his neck and the stench of cheap perfume you still smell on his clothes, because you need this, you need him). For several seconds Yamato kisses her back with as much desperation, but then he seems to react because all of a sudden, he’s grabbing her wrists and pulling back from her.
“Yamato, please…”
She regrets her words as soon as they leave her mouth because she can see realization dawning on Yamato. And just like that, he knows.
“Ishida, come on! The girls are waiting here! What’s taking you so long with the pizzas-oh,” there’s a boy standing behind Yamato, peering at her with drunken eyes, a boy she doesn’t recognize. “Oh, that’s not the pizza boy. Who’s she, Ishida?”
But Yamato ignores him, his whole focus is on her (and you admit, albeit reluctantly, that being the sole source of his unwavering focus has always been a little intimidating, but now it makes you feel flutters of something in your belly). Gently, he pulls her into the apartment, and closes the door behind her.
“Wait here,” he says, and walks further into the apartment.
Everyone turn to look at her, and she tries her best to ignore them, but can’t, not right now, not when she’s feeling her world fall apart before her eyes. She sees a glimmer of recognition in one of the boy’s eyes, but before he can talk, Yamato’s suddenly there, shielding her from their view. He gives her his coat and helmet, and leads her out the apartment as he puts on his jacket.
(There’s this aura of leadership around Yamato, of protectiveness, of command, and you know better than to complain about his decisions now.)
He drives her to her apartment, ask briefly about her parents when they get there, and once she tells him they’re out of town, Yamato follows her in.
“Bath,” she says absentmindedly and goes to the bathroom, unaware of Yamato’s presence looming behind her like a shadow.
She fills the tub and undresses and steps into the water (and only then you become aware of his presence, when you feel his steady gaze searching your face, for what, you don’t know), he sits on the edge of the tub and grabs her hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
(Why is it that every time you’re with Yamato you feel like walking on the edge of a knife?)
She lets herself cry then.
“What happened?”
“Nothing, nothing happened… absolutely nothing.”
“Sora…”
She sobs, pulling her knees up and resting her head on them. “He doesn’t love me. I don’t think he ever did, and if that was the case, he clearly doesn’t anymore.”
“Then I must say, he is more of an idiot than what I thought.”
Yamato pulls her up and hugs her to him, giving her as much comfort as he can provide (and you can still see the lipstick stain on his neck and smell that cheap perfume and you hate it), obviously not caring about getting his shirt wet. Silently, and moving her hands quickly, expertly, she strips him of his shirt and of the smell, and almost as an afterthought she rubs the lipstick stain away from his neck.
“Make love to me, Yamato.”
Her request is sudden and it surprises her as much as him, but he takes it calmly and stares at her, questioning with his eyes (because sex is good, sex is fine, is noncommittal and easy and you can still retain a sense of freedom and), making love, after all, requires a greater degree of commitment from both parties, a greater bond that just one-sided love. Sora knows this, and while she cannot meet all the requirements, she can try.
(You want this; you really want this. And if fate allows it, Yamato will want it too, and you’d be together, side by side, like you’ve always been for the last five years-never mind the break ups in between, because in the end you always come back to him, always.)
He trails his hands down her spine in a feather-like caress, going over her ass slowly, and then grips her thighs firmly before hoisting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist. His eyes darken a few shades and he carries her to her room (and you’re excited and terrified and confused and overwhelmed and you feel oh so thoroughly loved that you finally embrace the thought… the thought of allowing Yamato into your bed), he lays her on the mattress and rests his weigh on her.
(The familiarity of it all is reassuring in a way, because now you know you can move on.)
“Sora, look at me, all through this… Don’t close your eyes, just keep looking at me,” he says tenderly.
And she does.
~
~
~
It takes him five years, five long years, and a dozen of failed attempts at having a real relationship along with a talk with his creepy old neighbor, to understand why he’s been ignoring all these years. And the answer is so simple it’s almost funny but it’s not because it only mean he’s wasted ten years, ten fucking years trying to avoid the unavoidable.
He’s in love with Sora.
(Somewhere, in the darkest corner of your mind, you’ve always known. You’re in love with Sora, as simple as that, no more ignoring this simple fact, no more acts of charity. Screw friendship, screw Yamato, it’s about time you get your happily ever after.)
However, he soon learns, his realization comes far too late.
When he manages to track her down, he discovers she now lives in the fanciest neighborhood of Tokyo, in a fancy building with fancy apartments, and it’s only with the help of a little boy (“Oh, the flower lady? She lives in the penthouse, last floor”) that he gets her exact address.
All the way to the last floor (and why, goddammit, does the elevator take so long?), he’s revising the speech he prepared for this occasion. It’s a simple speech, really, God knows he can’t remember things when he’s too nervous and right now, he’s way over his head. He has it all ready, all planned out; as soon as she opens the door he’ll confess and the explain why he took so long and they will kiss and make love and finallyfinallyfinally live happily ever after.
Only, that’s not how it happens.
He knocks on her door and she answers it with a smile that freezes on her face as soon as she sees him and he can’t seem to remember his plan anymore. She’s so beautiful, with her red hair (and you can see, it’s longer, much longer now) and ruby eyes and tempting lips and slender body that sets his own on fire every time without fail.
She’s beautiful, and he loves her.
“I’m in love with you, Sora,” he finally says and doesn’t wait for her reply as he grabs her face and kisses her.
Her hands move slowly to grip his biceps and he moves his hands around her waist and he rejoices in the wonderful feeling that engulfs him now and the happiness and the elation and this sense of right and finally. But it all dies, slowly, as he realizes the kiss (the first kiss, your first kiss, together) is only one-sided and-
“Why is that mister kissing mommy, daddy?”
-and Sora is not kissing him back, is not hugging him back. And when he pulls away, she’s not smiling at him.
An overwhelming fear grips his heart and he’s terrified (for once, you’re truly, really terrified) to look at the source of that sweet, innocent voice. But he does anyway, he turns to look and right there down the hallway is a little girl.
A cute little girl, with bright, blue eyes and blonde hair and a smiling face (and that face, you know well).
He moves his gaze upwards (away from the pain, away from the sadness and despair you can no longer ignore) and meets Yamato’s blank stare. He’s holding a bag of groceries in one arm and a baby boy in the other.
(And it’s that sight precisely what ends up breaking your heart.)
A cute, red-haired, red-eyed, baby boy, who’s looking at him curiously while sucking at his pacifier and clutching Yamato’s jumper in a tight grip.
“Oh…” he whisper, and realizes belatedly that Sora is pushing him away gently.
“Because he is a friend of mommy and I,” Yamato say finally, walking towards them with his daughter (their daughter, it’s their daughter) in tow. “He just came back from a long trip and is just happy to see mommy.”
The girl smiles up at her father, all bright and happy. “Like when you come back from a trip?”
Yamato smiles too, and it’s a smile so rare and genuine it hurts him to see it. “Yes, like when I come back from a trip.”
He can’t help but feel like he’s intruding into a very private moment, so without realizing it really, he moves back a few steps.
(You don’t know how to ignore this anymore, you can’t, so you can’t prevent the pain and sadness and anger from showing in your eyes.)
He watches Sora kneel in front of her daughter (hers, and Yamato’s, theirs, not yours, never yours), and she caresses her face and kisses her temple and smiles that smile she gave him all those years ago, when she visited him in Spain.
When he broke her heart.
“Enjoyed your stroll?”
“Uh-huh,” says the little girl, smiling at her (all bright and happy).
“Good. Now why don’t you go inside with daddy and start supper, okay?”
“Can we make sushi, mommy?”
“Of course.”
“Yay!” exclaims the little girl, and after giving Sora a quick and hearty hug, she runs inside the apartment.
He wants to say something, but Yamato is suddenly there, in front of Sora, looking at her in a way he can’t quite comprehend. Having his arms full, it is Sora the one who seeks contact, reaching out and touching the arm that’s holding the baby boy. Yamato keeps looking at her, even when she breaks their gaze, turning her attention to her son (hers, and Yamato’s, theirs, not yours, never yours).
“Had a good time, honey?”
The baby boy nods his head, still sucking at his pacifier, and reaches for her but then he catches his eyes and reverts to clutching Yamato’s jumper. Sora looks back at the blonde man and he gives her a small, reassuring smile, before leaning down and kissing her temple.
“Take your time.”
(And it breaks, breaksbreaksbreaks, your heart the look in his eyes, because there’s so much love and devotion and trust it tears at your soul viciously, and you can’t, can’tcan’tcan’t, help but think you’ve done a terrible mistake by coming back.)
~
~
~
“I’m pregnant.”
She doesn’t intend to drop this on him like that, but she can no longer keep it in. The pressure is too much; everything is suddenly too much. She winces when Yamato blanches, and collapses onto the armchair across from her, his eyes wide and unbelieving.
“I’m sorry, I know we decided to take things slowly, to see if we really are meant to be, and… and… I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen, Yamato, I-”
“How…” he interrupts her rambles gently. “How far along… are you?”
“Three months.”
He nods and lowers his gaze, he doesn’t say anything for the longest of time, and she can’t take it (it’s simply too much for you to handle, it’s just too much).
“I didn’t mean to ruin-”
He doesn’t let her finish that sentence and he’s there, right there, in front of her, holding her hands and smiling reassuringly at her (even though he’s as scared and confused as you are). “No, Sora, you didn’t ruin anything, I… I’ll think of something, okay? We’ll get through this, together, just… just let me think of something, I…”
(He seems to have made a decision, just like that, no further thinking, and gripping your hands a little bit tighter, he meets your teary gaze.)
“Marry me.”
“Yamato?”
“Marry me, Sora. It doesn’t have to be now, it doesn’t even have to be before the baby’s born, just…” he trails off, and releases her hand to undo the clasp of his necklace.
A simple golden chain with a Y-shaped charm on it; he holds it up, looking at it fondly and then places it on her hands, closing them with his own (you know, it is the one significant present he has of his mother, and he’s giving it to you).
“Marry me, Sora, whenever you’re ready, because I’ll wait, you know I will, always.”
“Oh, Yamato…” she frees one of her hands and reaches out to caress his face tenderly, lovingly.
“I really want this to work, Sora, I want to be there for you, both of you, always.”
She gives him a watery smile. “I’d really like that… so I guess my answer is yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes,” she replies, nodding enthusiastically.
(And you let him pull you into a fierce hug, and pray for him to never let go; you wish, deep within your heart, that he never let go.)
She might not be in love with him yet, but she’s close-she’s very close, and somehow, that is enough.
~
~
~
Yamato goes inside then, not before looking at him over his shoulder and nodding his head in acknowledgement and (“It’s good to have you back, Taichi”) greeting him politely. And after what seems an eternity, he looks at her, only to find her looking at him intently, an apologetic smile on her face.
(You want to rage and cry and shake her until she sees reason because it’s not supposed to be like this, it’s not supposed to be YamatoandSora anymore but TaichiandSora with lots of children, all of whom would have his wild hair and her kindness and their sense of adventure, and can’t she see you came back for her, to finally be with her, because you don’t want to keep going on ignoring it all anymore?!)
And it’s déjà vu all over again.
Only this time, he doesn’t hide his feelings.
“Oh…”
“Taichi-”
“No, no, I’m sorry I… God, I feel like a fool. Of course you wouldn’t wait for me all these years, but I just thought… well, I thought-” he cuts his sentence short, running his hands over his hair, trying to find a way to ease the pain.
“I’m sorry-”
“No, Sora, it’s okay. Just…” he takes a deep breath, and lifts his gaze to hers. “Just let me ask you something.”
She nods, and smiles sadly at him and he can see… he can see the pain in her eyes and sadness and anger and despair and a sense of lost it almost chokes him with its intensity. And he doesn’t know if it is her feeling those emotions or if it’s only a reflection of his own.
But it is her, because laying underneath all, there this happiness shining deep within her and he knows, what he couldn’t bear to think on his way here has happened. She’s moved on.
(And you don’t know what hurts you the most-if seeing her like this, wearing a wedding band on her finger; or seeing her like this, wearing that golden chain with that Y-shaped charm around her neck.)
“Does he loves you?” he whispers (“Does he loves you like I do?”) and begs her to tell him the truth.
“Yes, he does,” she answers truthfully. “He loves me very, very much… probably more than I actually deserve.”
“You deserve everything, Sora.”
She smiles a little less sadly and nods. “He gives me everything, Taichi.”
He closes the distance between them on a whim (because it hurts too much to have her there, in front of you, and know that you can’t have her now, too damn much), and grabs her arms, searching her eyes for some kind of sign, anything that tells him she wants this as much as he does.
But there is none (only sadness, there’s only a deep, heartbreaking sadness).
“Do you love him?” he asks. “Do you love him, Sora?”
(Do you love him as much as you love me; you want to ask.)
She moves away from his hold, grabbing his hands instead, and sighs. “I love him enough.”
He grits his teeth, jaw tightening, but refrains from pointing out that that’s not the answer he wants (and you want to rage and cry and shake her), because enough is not an answer, not the right answer.
(Enough to what, you want to ask, to demand, but you don’t because you know the answer, it’s right there, punching you in the face.)
“I love him enough,” she says, willing him to understand.
But there’s nothing to understand, he knows.
(She loves him enough to spend her life with him and be happy. She loves him enough to bear his children and raise them with all the love of the world. She loves him enough to marry him and build a happy family with him.)
She loves him enough to move on, with him.
The golden chain, her golden chain, catches some of the sun’s rays and it shines, almost mockingly at him, and he wants to wince but manages to hold back.
For her sake.
(Because you broke her heart once, without a second thought, and it’s not fair to try to ruin the happy life she’s got now. To try to blame her for doing what it is expected of her; for moving on.)
So he steps back, for her sake.
“Good, I’m… I’m glad,” he says, his voice trembling. “You’re happy now, that’s good and I… I’m happy for you.”
She closes the distance then, and hugs him, tight, she hugs him tight and he relishes her touch and he wants to cry and when she pulls back enough to look at him in the eyes and kisses him (softly, like you always thought your first real kiss would be), he does cry but he kisses her back anyway.
The kiss is bittersweet and tender and sad and lovely and everything he ever wanted and in a different reality, this thing between them might have worked but now… now this is a goodbye, the kiss. It’s final; it’s closure.
(Hers and yours, TaichiandSora’s closure.)
She breaks the kiss, gives him a teary smile, and pats his cheek. “You’ll be fine,” she says and finally steps back.
He watches her give him one last glance before going back into the apartment, closing the door behind her.
(The definite click of the door shutting close echoes in the hallway and in your heart and you know, you know you’ve lost again, like your first chance and you second chance, only this time it isn’t your decision.)
He supposes that, somewhere, in the back of his mind, he’s always known of his love for Sora. He only wishes he’d been able to realize it sooner.
(It’s hers.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Comments are welcomed!! =D