Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
Here's a dumb digimon fic, as promised. Sequel to this thing right here. Fun fact: I aaalmost called this "The Adventure of the Empty House," but that just seemed too obscure :)
Title: Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
Fandom: Digimon Adventure/02
Genre: Humor/Suspense
Summary: Tai's dark and seemingly empty apartment holds the key to a terrible secret. Can Matt discover the truth before it's too late?
Length: ~ 3,600 words
Rating (all chapters): G
Warnings: Dub names, astronaut!Matt
Link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9166074/1/Hair-Today-Gone-Tomorrow
Once again, I did not create Fluffy the Tokomon. That dubious honor belongs to Clare and the Lost Temple of Ishida.
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"Tai! Taiii! It's unlocked, so I'm letting myself in!" Matt called out in warning as he opened the door to his best friend's apartment. It was the first Friday of the month, not to mention the first time he had been able to schedule a trip to Odaiba since being accepted into the JAXA astronaut program. Between the long hours, rigorous training exercises, and endless simulations designed to test his limits both mentally and physically, he had been pushed to the brink of exhaustion more times in the past six months than in all the rest of his life combined. He was ready for a break, so naturally, he was prepared to pummel Tai to a pulp if the brown-haired man had somehow forgotten it was their bowling night.
The blond stepped over the threshold and stared dumbfounded at the sight that met his eyes. Tai's apartment was... well, it was filthy, and not in the way that Matt had finally learned to accept after years of living with and cleaning up after him. Those messes had been bearable: a few discarded clothes, some scattered textbooks and homework, a stray soccer ball or two.
This, on the other hand, could only be described as a disaster. Clothes and soccer gear lay everywhere, strewn about the floor, the furniture, even hanging from the light fixtures. Entire shelves stood empty, the books that had once occupied them tossed carelessly aside, bindings bent and pages creased. Open snack bags, soda cans, and unwashed dishes (no doubt attracting a large segment of the island's ant population) seemed to wink at him from every angle, as did several mysterious bottles of what might have been shampoo. All together, this formed a shallow layer of debris that completely covered the living room carpet and every available surface, giving off an unmistakable funk that told Matt Tai had either given up doing chores altogether, or had completely forgotten how.
The former rock star wrinkled his nose, trying not to breathe too deeply as he grasped for reasons his old living room was now a landfill. Was Tai making a statement of freedom from his mom's and Matt's nagging to clean up after himself? Had he thought that if the mess got bad enough, Matt's roommate-sense would start tingling, thereby causing him to visit sooner and more often? Was Tai trying to grow another roommate from whatever sentient life might have accidentally evolved from the bacteria living in his sweat socks? Each possibility seemed more ridiculous than the last, but Matt knew his friend too well not to rule them out completely- Tai had certainly had worse ideas.
"Tai! C'mon, let's go! I am not setting foot in this mess to come find you!" Matt called, and when there was no response, he rolled his eyes at himself. Walked right into that one, Ishida. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed that this whole ordeal was probably just Tai's idea of a practical joke. That poor excuse for a best friend was probably holed up in his room right now, trying to stifle his laughter while he waited for Matt to swallow his pride and sense of decency and come in after him. What a jerk.
Matt hesitated in the entryway, weighing his options. There were several, even if you didn't include passing out from the smell. The joke would be on Tai if Matt simply went back to his place, picked up Gabumon, and headed for the nearest bar. Alternatively, he could put in a call for reinforcements- a hazmat containment crew would be better equipped to deal with this catastrophe than he was, plus there was always the possibility they would just condemn the building and be done with it. And what would Mrs. Kamiya do to her son if she happened to find out he had been living like this...?
This really isn't helping anything, he told himself, coming out of his reverie. As satisfying as it was to plot revenge and counter-pranks, something about this scenario just wasn't adding up. If it was a joke, he mused, it was a pretty poor one, even for Tai's low standards. And anyway, the former leader of the DigiDestined was terrible at keeping a straight face. Stunts like this were always accompanied by a snigger, a smirk, a taunt- never silence. This simple fact was gradually causing Matt's annoyance to be replaced with confusion as he stood there, one hand on the doorknob, the other in the process of putting his phone back in his pocket. Enough daydreaming. He was going to need to focus if he was going to figure out what the heck was going on here.
All right then, said some rational part of his brain. Let's think about what we know for sure. The living room was a mess, plain and simple, but he couldn't say he was any closer to figuring out what that had to do with anything. So... what else? The lights were out, for one, and Tai hadn't answered either of Matt's summons. Based on that, it didn't seem likely that Tai was even home. And yet... the two of them had agreed to meet here tonight. Whatever his faults, Tai wasn't normally so absentminded as to blow off any of his friends completely. Was it possible that Tai simply hadn't heard him call out? And where was Agumon through all this?
Matt sighed resignedly, trying to steel himself for the daunting task ahead. Like it or not, he was going to have to cross the living room, enter the hallway on the other side, and search the rest of the apartment for signs of life. Hardly the ideal way to start his night off, but Tai really wasn't leaving him much of a choice. Besides, he thought wryly, isn't this what you've spent all those hours in training for? Exploring strange new worlds and hostile environments? Volunteering for risky operations, doing whatever it takes to get the job done? This was just extra practice, nothing more, even if Matt would sooner strangle Tai than thank him for putting him through it. And so, Matt swallowed one last breath of fresh air and began picking his way across the room, taking all the care of a man trying to navigate through a minefield.
It wasn't as easy as he had hoped. The room was almost completely dark, save for a faint whitish-blue light that cast an eerie glow over everything, highlighting and shadowing his surroundings in a way that was starting to make him uneasy. The garbage really was about ankle-deep, and it quickly became apparent that whatever bare patches of carpet there were, they were so few and far between that he wasn't able to rely on them exclusively for safe passage. Instead, Matt tried to make sure he placed his feet as slowly and deliberately as possible, stepping over the more obvious breakables while he kept his eyes fixed a few steps ahead of him, hoping against all odds he could make it to the hallway without getting swallowed whole by the morass, or disturbing anything that may have built a nest in any of the larger piles of laundry.
He was nearly halfway across the room when he thought he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He spun around trying to catch a glimpse of whatever it might be, his heart beating a little faster in spite of himself. This, however, turned out to be a particularly bad idea. The awkward positioning of his feet combined with the sudden twisting motion caused him to overbalance, knocking into nearby end table and sending a precariously-stacked tower of cups, bowls, and silverware crashing to the floor.
Matt swore loudly, rubbing a freshly-bruised shin and making a mental note that he probably owed Tai a few replacement dishes, but all other thoughts were driven from his mind as he recalled what had caused him to lose his balance in the first place. His eyes darted around the room, looking for signs that something had changed while his back had been turned, but no luck. The room was as still and silent as ever.
Then the eerie blue light shifted slightly, and he squinted into the gloom, trying to determine its source. Now that he looked more closely, he saw it was coming from a computer monitor in the far corner of the room, and what he had taken for movement was nothing more than the flashing of some brightly-colored text on the screen. Matt tiptoed across the floor to get a better look, not wanting to intrude on his friend's privacy but hoping it might offer some sort of explanation for his absence. Could Tai have gone to the Digital World?
The largest window displayed a garish and poorly-spelled e-mail advertisement. Phrases like "natural enhancement," "bigger, better, sexier," and "ladies love it!" jumped out at him, and he felt his mouth open in surprise and incredulity.
"Tai, you know better than to open spam like this," he called, half-amused, half-embarrassed. "Viruses and Trojans thrive in this stuff, and I doubt Izzy has the time or desire to reformat your hard drive again." He closed the offending window and turned around, determinedly putting one foot in front of the other as he resumed progress back across the debris-strewn floor. He was trying not to be unnerved, trying to remain calm, but the longer Matt stayed here, the more worried he became. He told himself to focus on the task at hand, to stop dwelling on worst-case scenarios, but he was unable to keep certain unwelcome thoughts from trickling into his mind as he considered the evidence. The unlocked front door, belongings strewn haphazardly around the floor, no sign of inhabitants, human or digimon... could Tai be in some sort of trouble, in need of help? Was he hurt? Had he been robbed? Kidnapped? Just what would Matt find when he finally made it into the bedroom...?
And it was then that he heard it: the slow and barely-audible sound of a door opening.
Matt froze. He stood there, stock-still on the far end of the cluttered and filthy floor, some small part of him hoping he had imagined the noise. But no, he was sure he had registered the rattle of a doorknob, the faint click of the lock, the squeak of hinges, and they had all come from somewhere down in the dark recesses of the hallway. Matt resisted the urge to call out, listening hard for a sound other than his own stilted breathing, the pulse pounding through his veins, but everything else was silent. If he was right, and there was no reason to doubt his own instinct, then the sound had come from the end of the hall that was now closest to him, which meant that the mysterious door-opener was just on the other side of the living room wall. Matt realized his mouth had gone dry and his palms were slick with sweat. He swallowed, waiting for any indication that who or whatever was standing mere feet from him was going to make its move.
And then, slowly, deliberately, it did start to move, and this was somehow a hundred times worse than the silence. Whatever it was was now rustling and shuffling its way down the hall, as if it wasn't able to lift its feet very high off the garbage-strewn floor. It set Matt's hair on end to realize what that halting and uneven gait reminded him of. It sounded to him like the thing was limping. Or crawling. Or possibly even dragging something...
Matt tensed, blood thundering in his ears, his throat constricting with every shambling step. He had no idea what he should prepare himself for, whether he should try to help, or hide, or look for something to defend himself with. But before he could decide on a course of action, it was too late. The thing was coming around the corner, low to the ground, beady black eyes shining, teeth glinting, tiny, trembling, and pink...
Wait a minute. Pink?
"Fluffy?"
The tokomon jumped, looking up at him in surprise. "Oh, Matt," she squeaked. "You scared me. When did you get here? We didn't hear you come in."
"So I gathered," he said, almost smiling at her out of sheer relief. He knelt down to look at her more closely, but as he did, he felt his brows knit together in concern. The little digimon, who was normally so cheerful, had an expression on her face that was nothing short of morose. "Fluffy, what's going on?" he asked, uneasiness stirring again in the pit of his stomach. "Where's Tai?"
Fluffy lowered her eyes and stared at the floor. "Oh, he's here," she said sadly, "but..."
There was another slow shuffling noise from the hallway. A hand appeared on the doorframe. A hand that was gradually followed by an arm, a body, and a bushy brown head...
"T... Tai?!"
Matt gaped at his friend. He knew that he himself had had it rough these past few months, but even his most stressful days at the Agency hadn't left him feeling half as terrible as Tai looked at this moment.
It was as if the other man had aged several years in the past few months. Dark circles underlined his eyes, and his mouth drooped at the corners as if it had been etched on his face in a permanent frown. His skin had a pale and sickly hue to it, and Matt wasn't entirely sure that could be attributed to the ghostly light of the computer screen. He was dressed in nothing more than a pair of rumpled-looking pajama pants that he had clearly been wearing for several days, and even over the persistent smell of the living room, it was obvious he was in dire need of a shower. But the thing that stood out the most about Tai's appearance were his sunken, staring eyes. They had a deadened, almost haunted look to them, and seemed to broadcast a state of despair Matt had rarely, if ever, seen on another human face. They made Tai look not only miserable, but lost, weary, and completely and utterly bereft.
It seemed to take several seconds for Tai to realize someone had said his name. He turned those dead eyes to Matt and spoke at last.
"Matt," he said flatly. "I... I didn't want anyone to see me like this. I guess you had to find out sooner or later."
"Find out what? Tai, is everything OK?"
"I've barely slept in three days," Tai said, a note of hopelessness in his voice. "I haven't left the apartment in four. I've... received some bad news."
Matt could feel his nerves start to buzz with the dread of anticipation. "What happened?"
"Izzy's been running the numbers, and the results are pretty conclusive." Tai reached into his pajama pockets and pulled out a few crumpled sheets of paper, each one covered in complex figures and numbers. "I mean, I don't understand all the math, but the prognosis isn't good."
Matt took the pages from him, trying to find meaning in the myriad of calculations, charts, and graphs. "What prognosis?" he asked, becoming more and more confused with each new equation. "What are you talking about?"
"Matt." Those dead eyes looked at him with unwavering seriousness. "I don't have much time left."
Matt felt a stone drop into his stomach as an icy chill shot through his veins. "What... what did you say?"
Tai dropped his gaze, seemingly unable to maintain eye contact. "Don't make me repeat it. Izzy says I have ten years at most, and that's only if I'm really lucky. After that..." he drew his finger across his throat, looking grim.
Matt opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to coax his throat into working again. "H-how is that possible?" he was finally able to sputter. "I mean, c'mon Tai, you've always been as healthy as a horse!"
Matt wasn't sure Tai had heard him. He looked lost in thought, staring at a point somewhere on Matt's left. "Don't you see? I was proud, Matt. Too proud to think anything like this could ever happen to me. How could I have been so blind? The signs were all there in my family history, but I chose to ignore them. I was such an idiot! Maybe if I..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "Well, they say hindsight's 20/20, I guess."
Matt's brain was working fast, trying to think of a way to keep Tai positive, to keep himself positive, to process everything he was hearing, while simultaneously not wanting to accept it as truth. "But... how can Izzy be so sure? I mean, what about a second opinion? Joe-"
"Joe's done what he can," Fluffy supplied in a quiet voice, "but it's not really his area of expertise."
Tai nodded, looking down at the tokomon. "He suggested some alternative treatments. Acupuncture. Transplants. Prosthetics. But there's no cure, nothing that can really change the state of things. The only thing that stuff would do is delay the inevitable, or help delude myself into believing nothing's really wrong." He gave a hollow laugh. "Doesn't really seem worth it, huh?"
"Ten years, though- " Matt's tried again, his brain still whirring. "That means there's still time to find something. There have to be other options-"
But Tai's only response to this was to give a listless shrug.
"Matt, I never go down without a fight, you know that better than anyone. Don't you think that the moment I found out, I started doing everything in my power to try to stop it? I read up on it. I changed my diet. I started taking vitamins. I've tried as much over-the-counter stuff as I've dared, even a few things I found on the Internet. None of it has made one bit of difference." He tried to force his features into smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "It's happening, whether I want it to or not. I'm trying to be brave, but this is... ah, well, it's different from fighting an enemy digimon, you know?"
This last statement was punctuated by the faintest of whimpers. Fluffy had buried her head in her tiny paws, and was sobbing softly to herself. Tai picked her up and held her, gently stroking her back. "Shh, Fluffy. It's OK. If you can't tell," he said, addressing Matt, the hopelessness peaking in his voice, "both of us are still having a hard time adjusting to the idea."
"Tai, this is... it's a shock, but you know I'm here for you. If you need anything. I mean-" Matt locked eyes with his best friend and placed a hand on his slumped shoulder. "I have two working kidneys, an organ donor card, and my blood type-"
"Whoa, wait, Matt." Those eyes snapped onto Matt's face again, but this time with a hint of confusion. "What are you talking about?"
Matt blinked.
"Tai," he said, unable to keep the suspicion out of his voice, "have we or have we not just spent the last several minutes discussing the idea that you are, in fact, terminally ill?"
"What?" Tai asked. His eyebrows were raised, and there was genuine surprise on his face. "No, of course not! Where on Earth did you get that idea?"
There was a pause. Matt glanced around, feeling completely wrong-footed as he tried to process this puzzling new information. His eyes fell upon one of the strange bottles that littered the floor. He picked it up, squinting to read the label in the dim light.
"Tai," he said slowly. "This bottle says 'Hair Club for Men' on it."
"Yeah, so?"
Matt gazed at the bottle, then his eyes moved to the floor, the computer, and back to Tai in quick succession. The pieces were starting to fall into place. "So, what you're trying to tell me," he said, trying to keep his voice even. "-and let me make sure I have this absolutely right, so as to fully understand your situation- you're telling me that all of this- shutting yourself in your room, the suspicious e-mails, the mess, your complete disregard for personal hygiene... it's all because you think you're losing your hair?"
"Of course that's what I'm trying to tell you!" Tai cried, clutching at his friend's arms and looking beside himself with agony. "What am I gonna do, Matt? This is male pattern baldness we're talking about! Without a full head of hair, I mean... someone will overtake me in the record books! Izzy will lose his grant money! The endorsements and merchandising will dry up completely! They'll revoke its status as a natural wonder! Fluffy will be homeless!"
"Not to mention the fangirls!" Fluffy wailed.
Matt stared at the tokomon, and then at his friend. He exhaled, a slow breath of air that signified the unclenching of the twisted knot that had formed in his stomach. He had been through a lot in the past half-hour. He had experienced multiple combinations of shock, annoyance, anxiety, fear, confusion, and relief, ever since setting foot through the front door. It would have been difficult for him to describe the strange mixture of emotions he was feeling at the moment, but standing there, looking at the expression on his friend's face, he knew one of them came very close to pity.
Which was why he gave Tai a few seconds' pause before he wound his fist back and punched him full in the face.
In hindsight, it had been the best decision he had made all night.
~Fin.
Title: Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
Fandom: Digimon Adventure/02
Genre: Humor/Suspense
Summary: Tai's dark and seemingly empty apartment holds the key to a terrible secret. Can Matt discover the truth before it's too late?
Length: ~ 3,600 words
Rating (all chapters): G
Warnings: Dub names, astronaut!Matt
Link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9166074/1/Hair-Today-Gone-Tomorrow
Once again, I did not create Fluffy the Tokomon. That dubious honor belongs to Clare and the Lost Temple of Ishida.
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"Tai! Taiii! It's unlocked, so I'm letting myself in!" Matt called out in warning as he opened the door to his best friend's apartment. It was the first Friday of the month, not to mention the first time he had been able to schedule a trip to Odaiba since being accepted into the JAXA astronaut program. Between the long hours, rigorous training exercises, and endless simulations designed to test his limits both mentally and physically, he had been pushed to the brink of exhaustion more times in the past six months than in all the rest of his life combined. He was ready for a break, so naturally, he was prepared to pummel Tai to a pulp if the brown-haired man had somehow forgotten it was their bowling night.
The blond stepped over the threshold and stared dumbfounded at the sight that met his eyes. Tai's apartment was... well, it was filthy, and not in the way that Matt had finally learned to accept after years of living with and cleaning up after him. Those messes had been bearable: a few discarded clothes, some scattered textbooks and homework, a stray soccer ball or two.
This, on the other hand, could only be described as a disaster. Clothes and soccer gear lay everywhere, strewn about the floor, the furniture, even hanging from the light fixtures. Entire shelves stood empty, the books that had once occupied them tossed carelessly aside, bindings bent and pages creased. Open snack bags, soda cans, and unwashed dishes (no doubt attracting a large segment of the island's ant population) seemed to wink at him from every angle, as did several mysterious bottles of what might have been shampoo. All together, this formed a shallow layer of debris that completely covered the living room carpet and every available surface, giving off an unmistakable funk that told Matt Tai had either given up doing chores altogether, or had completely forgotten how.
The former rock star wrinkled his nose, trying not to breathe too deeply as he grasped for reasons his old living room was now a landfill. Was Tai making a statement of freedom from his mom's and Matt's nagging to clean up after himself? Had he thought that if the mess got bad enough, Matt's roommate-sense would start tingling, thereby causing him to visit sooner and more often? Was Tai trying to grow another roommate from whatever sentient life might have accidentally evolved from the bacteria living in his sweat socks? Each possibility seemed more ridiculous than the last, but Matt knew his friend too well not to rule them out completely- Tai had certainly had worse ideas.
"Tai! C'mon, let's go! I am not setting foot in this mess to come find you!" Matt called, and when there was no response, he rolled his eyes at himself. Walked right into that one, Ishida. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed that this whole ordeal was probably just Tai's idea of a practical joke. That poor excuse for a best friend was probably holed up in his room right now, trying to stifle his laughter while he waited for Matt to swallow his pride and sense of decency and come in after him. What a jerk.
Matt hesitated in the entryway, weighing his options. There were several, even if you didn't include passing out from the smell. The joke would be on Tai if Matt simply went back to his place, picked up Gabumon, and headed for the nearest bar. Alternatively, he could put in a call for reinforcements- a hazmat containment crew would be better equipped to deal with this catastrophe than he was, plus there was always the possibility they would just condemn the building and be done with it. And what would Mrs. Kamiya do to her son if she happened to find out he had been living like this...?
This really isn't helping anything, he told himself, coming out of his reverie. As satisfying as it was to plot revenge and counter-pranks, something about this scenario just wasn't adding up. If it was a joke, he mused, it was a pretty poor one, even for Tai's low standards. And anyway, the former leader of the DigiDestined was terrible at keeping a straight face. Stunts like this were always accompanied by a snigger, a smirk, a taunt- never silence. This simple fact was gradually causing Matt's annoyance to be replaced with confusion as he stood there, one hand on the doorknob, the other in the process of putting his phone back in his pocket. Enough daydreaming. He was going to need to focus if he was going to figure out what the heck was going on here.
All right then, said some rational part of his brain. Let's think about what we know for sure. The living room was a mess, plain and simple, but he couldn't say he was any closer to figuring out what that had to do with anything. So... what else? The lights were out, for one, and Tai hadn't answered either of Matt's summons. Based on that, it didn't seem likely that Tai was even home. And yet... the two of them had agreed to meet here tonight. Whatever his faults, Tai wasn't normally so absentminded as to blow off any of his friends completely. Was it possible that Tai simply hadn't heard him call out? And where was Agumon through all this?
Matt sighed resignedly, trying to steel himself for the daunting task ahead. Like it or not, he was going to have to cross the living room, enter the hallway on the other side, and search the rest of the apartment for signs of life. Hardly the ideal way to start his night off, but Tai really wasn't leaving him much of a choice. Besides, he thought wryly, isn't this what you've spent all those hours in training for? Exploring strange new worlds and hostile environments? Volunteering for risky operations, doing whatever it takes to get the job done? This was just extra practice, nothing more, even if Matt would sooner strangle Tai than thank him for putting him through it. And so, Matt swallowed one last breath of fresh air and began picking his way across the room, taking all the care of a man trying to navigate through a minefield.
It wasn't as easy as he had hoped. The room was almost completely dark, save for a faint whitish-blue light that cast an eerie glow over everything, highlighting and shadowing his surroundings in a way that was starting to make him uneasy. The garbage really was about ankle-deep, and it quickly became apparent that whatever bare patches of carpet there were, they were so few and far between that he wasn't able to rely on them exclusively for safe passage. Instead, Matt tried to make sure he placed his feet as slowly and deliberately as possible, stepping over the more obvious breakables while he kept his eyes fixed a few steps ahead of him, hoping against all odds he could make it to the hallway without getting swallowed whole by the morass, or disturbing anything that may have built a nest in any of the larger piles of laundry.
He was nearly halfway across the room when he thought he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. He spun around trying to catch a glimpse of whatever it might be, his heart beating a little faster in spite of himself. This, however, turned out to be a particularly bad idea. The awkward positioning of his feet combined with the sudden twisting motion caused him to overbalance, knocking into nearby end table and sending a precariously-stacked tower of cups, bowls, and silverware crashing to the floor.
Matt swore loudly, rubbing a freshly-bruised shin and making a mental note that he probably owed Tai a few replacement dishes, but all other thoughts were driven from his mind as he recalled what had caused him to lose his balance in the first place. His eyes darted around the room, looking for signs that something had changed while his back had been turned, but no luck. The room was as still and silent as ever.
Then the eerie blue light shifted slightly, and he squinted into the gloom, trying to determine its source. Now that he looked more closely, he saw it was coming from a computer monitor in the far corner of the room, and what he had taken for movement was nothing more than the flashing of some brightly-colored text on the screen. Matt tiptoed across the floor to get a better look, not wanting to intrude on his friend's privacy but hoping it might offer some sort of explanation for his absence. Could Tai have gone to the Digital World?
The largest window displayed a garish and poorly-spelled e-mail advertisement. Phrases like "natural enhancement," "bigger, better, sexier," and "ladies love it!" jumped out at him, and he felt his mouth open in surprise and incredulity.
"Tai, you know better than to open spam like this," he called, half-amused, half-embarrassed. "Viruses and Trojans thrive in this stuff, and I doubt Izzy has the time or desire to reformat your hard drive again." He closed the offending window and turned around, determinedly putting one foot in front of the other as he resumed progress back across the debris-strewn floor. He was trying not to be unnerved, trying to remain calm, but the longer Matt stayed here, the more worried he became. He told himself to focus on the task at hand, to stop dwelling on worst-case scenarios, but he was unable to keep certain unwelcome thoughts from trickling into his mind as he considered the evidence. The unlocked front door, belongings strewn haphazardly around the floor, no sign of inhabitants, human or digimon... could Tai be in some sort of trouble, in need of help? Was he hurt? Had he been robbed? Kidnapped? Just what would Matt find when he finally made it into the bedroom...?
And it was then that he heard it: the slow and barely-audible sound of a door opening.
Matt froze. He stood there, stock-still on the far end of the cluttered and filthy floor, some small part of him hoping he had imagined the noise. But no, he was sure he had registered the rattle of a doorknob, the faint click of the lock, the squeak of hinges, and they had all come from somewhere down in the dark recesses of the hallway. Matt resisted the urge to call out, listening hard for a sound other than his own stilted breathing, the pulse pounding through his veins, but everything else was silent. If he was right, and there was no reason to doubt his own instinct, then the sound had come from the end of the hall that was now closest to him, which meant that the mysterious door-opener was just on the other side of the living room wall. Matt realized his mouth had gone dry and his palms were slick with sweat. He swallowed, waiting for any indication that who or whatever was standing mere feet from him was going to make its move.
And then, slowly, deliberately, it did start to move, and this was somehow a hundred times worse than the silence. Whatever it was was now rustling and shuffling its way down the hall, as if it wasn't able to lift its feet very high off the garbage-strewn floor. It set Matt's hair on end to realize what that halting and uneven gait reminded him of. It sounded to him like the thing was limping. Or crawling. Or possibly even dragging something...
Matt tensed, blood thundering in his ears, his throat constricting with every shambling step. He had no idea what he should prepare himself for, whether he should try to help, or hide, or look for something to defend himself with. But before he could decide on a course of action, it was too late. The thing was coming around the corner, low to the ground, beady black eyes shining, teeth glinting, tiny, trembling, and pink...
Wait a minute. Pink?
"Fluffy?"
The tokomon jumped, looking up at him in surprise. "Oh, Matt," she squeaked. "You scared me. When did you get here? We didn't hear you come in."
"So I gathered," he said, almost smiling at her out of sheer relief. He knelt down to look at her more closely, but as he did, he felt his brows knit together in concern. The little digimon, who was normally so cheerful, had an expression on her face that was nothing short of morose. "Fluffy, what's going on?" he asked, uneasiness stirring again in the pit of his stomach. "Where's Tai?"
Fluffy lowered her eyes and stared at the floor. "Oh, he's here," she said sadly, "but..."
There was another slow shuffling noise from the hallway. A hand appeared on the doorframe. A hand that was gradually followed by an arm, a body, and a bushy brown head...
"T... Tai?!"
Matt gaped at his friend. He knew that he himself had had it rough these past few months, but even his most stressful days at the Agency hadn't left him feeling half as terrible as Tai looked at this moment.
It was as if the other man had aged several years in the past few months. Dark circles underlined his eyes, and his mouth drooped at the corners as if it had been etched on his face in a permanent frown. His skin had a pale and sickly hue to it, and Matt wasn't entirely sure that could be attributed to the ghostly light of the computer screen. He was dressed in nothing more than a pair of rumpled-looking pajama pants that he had clearly been wearing for several days, and even over the persistent smell of the living room, it was obvious he was in dire need of a shower. But the thing that stood out the most about Tai's appearance were his sunken, staring eyes. They had a deadened, almost haunted look to them, and seemed to broadcast a state of despair Matt had rarely, if ever, seen on another human face. They made Tai look not only miserable, but lost, weary, and completely and utterly bereft.
It seemed to take several seconds for Tai to realize someone had said his name. He turned those dead eyes to Matt and spoke at last.
"Matt," he said flatly. "I... I didn't want anyone to see me like this. I guess you had to find out sooner or later."
"Find out what? Tai, is everything OK?"
"I've barely slept in three days," Tai said, a note of hopelessness in his voice. "I haven't left the apartment in four. I've... received some bad news."
Matt could feel his nerves start to buzz with the dread of anticipation. "What happened?"
"Izzy's been running the numbers, and the results are pretty conclusive." Tai reached into his pajama pockets and pulled out a few crumpled sheets of paper, each one covered in complex figures and numbers. "I mean, I don't understand all the math, but the prognosis isn't good."
Matt took the pages from him, trying to find meaning in the myriad of calculations, charts, and graphs. "What prognosis?" he asked, becoming more and more confused with each new equation. "What are you talking about?"
"Matt." Those dead eyes looked at him with unwavering seriousness. "I don't have much time left."
Matt felt a stone drop into his stomach as an icy chill shot through his veins. "What... what did you say?"
Tai dropped his gaze, seemingly unable to maintain eye contact. "Don't make me repeat it. Izzy says I have ten years at most, and that's only if I'm really lucky. After that..." he drew his finger across his throat, looking grim.
Matt opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to coax his throat into working again. "H-how is that possible?" he was finally able to sputter. "I mean, c'mon Tai, you've always been as healthy as a horse!"
Matt wasn't sure Tai had heard him. He looked lost in thought, staring at a point somewhere on Matt's left. "Don't you see? I was proud, Matt. Too proud to think anything like this could ever happen to me. How could I have been so blind? The signs were all there in my family history, but I chose to ignore them. I was such an idiot! Maybe if I..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "Well, they say hindsight's 20/20, I guess."
Matt's brain was working fast, trying to think of a way to keep Tai positive, to keep himself positive, to process everything he was hearing, while simultaneously not wanting to accept it as truth. "But... how can Izzy be so sure? I mean, what about a second opinion? Joe-"
"Joe's done what he can," Fluffy supplied in a quiet voice, "but it's not really his area of expertise."
Tai nodded, looking down at the tokomon. "He suggested some alternative treatments. Acupuncture. Transplants. Prosthetics. But there's no cure, nothing that can really change the state of things. The only thing that stuff would do is delay the inevitable, or help delude myself into believing nothing's really wrong." He gave a hollow laugh. "Doesn't really seem worth it, huh?"
"Ten years, though- " Matt's tried again, his brain still whirring. "That means there's still time to find something. There have to be other options-"
But Tai's only response to this was to give a listless shrug.
"Matt, I never go down without a fight, you know that better than anyone. Don't you think that the moment I found out, I started doing everything in my power to try to stop it? I read up on it. I changed my diet. I started taking vitamins. I've tried as much over-the-counter stuff as I've dared, even a few things I found on the Internet. None of it has made one bit of difference." He tried to force his features into smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "It's happening, whether I want it to or not. I'm trying to be brave, but this is... ah, well, it's different from fighting an enemy digimon, you know?"
This last statement was punctuated by the faintest of whimpers. Fluffy had buried her head in her tiny paws, and was sobbing softly to herself. Tai picked her up and held her, gently stroking her back. "Shh, Fluffy. It's OK. If you can't tell," he said, addressing Matt, the hopelessness peaking in his voice, "both of us are still having a hard time adjusting to the idea."
"Tai, this is... it's a shock, but you know I'm here for you. If you need anything. I mean-" Matt locked eyes with his best friend and placed a hand on his slumped shoulder. "I have two working kidneys, an organ donor card, and my blood type-"
"Whoa, wait, Matt." Those eyes snapped onto Matt's face again, but this time with a hint of confusion. "What are you talking about?"
Matt blinked.
"Tai," he said, unable to keep the suspicion out of his voice, "have we or have we not just spent the last several minutes discussing the idea that you are, in fact, terminally ill?"
"What?" Tai asked. His eyebrows were raised, and there was genuine surprise on his face. "No, of course not! Where on Earth did you get that idea?"
There was a pause. Matt glanced around, feeling completely wrong-footed as he tried to process this puzzling new information. His eyes fell upon one of the strange bottles that littered the floor. He picked it up, squinting to read the label in the dim light.
"Tai," he said slowly. "This bottle says 'Hair Club for Men' on it."
"Yeah, so?"
Matt gazed at the bottle, then his eyes moved to the floor, the computer, and back to Tai in quick succession. The pieces were starting to fall into place. "So, what you're trying to tell me," he said, trying to keep his voice even. "-and let me make sure I have this absolutely right, so as to fully understand your situation- you're telling me that all of this- shutting yourself in your room, the suspicious e-mails, the mess, your complete disregard for personal hygiene... it's all because you think you're losing your hair?"
"Of course that's what I'm trying to tell you!" Tai cried, clutching at his friend's arms and looking beside himself with agony. "What am I gonna do, Matt? This is male pattern baldness we're talking about! Without a full head of hair, I mean... someone will overtake me in the record books! Izzy will lose his grant money! The endorsements and merchandising will dry up completely! They'll revoke its status as a natural wonder! Fluffy will be homeless!"
"Not to mention the fangirls!" Fluffy wailed.
Matt stared at the tokomon, and then at his friend. He exhaled, a slow breath of air that signified the unclenching of the twisted knot that had formed in his stomach. He had been through a lot in the past half-hour. He had experienced multiple combinations of shock, annoyance, anxiety, fear, confusion, and relief, ever since setting foot through the front door. It would have been difficult for him to describe the strange mixture of emotions he was feeling at the moment, but standing there, looking at the expression on his friend's face, he knew one of them came very close to pity.
Which was why he gave Tai a few seconds' pause before he wound his fist back and punched him full in the face.
In hindsight, it had been the best decision he had made all night.
~Fin.