[OMWK] Chapter 01/4: Epic Fail (Part 1/2)
✗ TECHNICAL DETAILS
FANDOM: Digimon Adventure 01/02/Tri
RATING: Mature.
WORDCOUNT: 10 032
PAIRING(S): Endgame Taito, though the fic is primarily Taichi-centric. Side pairings include Takeru/Hikari and discussion of past Sorato.
CHARACTER(S): Taichi Kamiya, Yamato Ishida, Hikari Kamiya, Takeru Takashi, Daisuke Motomiya, Agumon, Veemon, Gabumon, Sora Takenoushi, and mention of the rest of the gang.
GENRE: Misapplied matchmaking. Also future!fic.
TRIGGER WARNING(S): Depression and discussion thereof, including one briefly mentioned suicide attempt in chapter two.
SUMMARY: In which Taichi has questionable ways to handle his issues, everyone tries to be nice, and Yamato yells at him a lot. Same old, same old, except for the part where they end up kissing.
OMWK ON TUMBLR: [Chapter I]
OMWK ON AO3: [Read Here]
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“You,” Yamato hisses into the phone before Taichi is even done greeting him, “are the worst meddler in the history of sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Taichi replies without missing a beat, but all it gets him is a snort that ends on a jaw-cracking yawn.
There’s a sigh then, carrying the mental image of Yamato pinching at the bridge of his nose over the phone while Taichi tries to pull his socks on one-handed without falling on his face.
“Are you seriously trying to tell me you have nothing to do with Daisuke’s break up?”
“Okay, first of all,” Taichi corrects, eyebrows knitting in a frown of his own, “it’s not a break up when the people involved aren’t even dating. Second-come on, at least listen to me before you start groaning!”
Yamato mutters something about a headache, which Taichi hears as the jab it is even as the sound of a chair scrapping on floorboard rises and falls in the background, followed by the dull slap of a thick book falling shut. Taichi glances at the clock, and almost groans in turn when he realizes it’s past midnight in Paris, which means either Yamato forgot about calling him until it was time for him to go to sleep, or he stayed up just so he could yell at Taichi as fast as possible.
Freaking typical.
“Look,” he says instead of starting another argument-which, given his history and levels of irritation, he’s kind of grimly proud about-“he asked me if he should date that girl! All I said was that if he had to ask me then it might not be the best of ideas.”
“Which you knew was going to drive them apart,” Yamato says, but doesn’t ask. “But you still said it because she’s not one of us and you don’t like that.”
“That’s got nothing to do with it!” Taichi yelps, hating the way it makes him sound guiltier than he truly is or feels.
All he did was answer his roommate’s question and give a sincere piece of advice-Yamato may not like it, but that doesn’t make it wrong, thank you very much! Besides, it’s not like he’s telling Daisuke he should stop all kind of dating-or any dating at all really. If he’d tried to convince the guy to stay single, now that would have been egoistical and downright cruel, but Taichi has no motive of that kind, and he crosses his arms over his chest in annoyance, shoulders tightening when Yamato insists:
“Right. I assume it has nothing to do with wanting to keep him as a roommate either?”
“Of course not!” Taichi retorts, and he almost hangs up when Yamato sighs his ‘why are we even friends’ sigh. Instead, he insists: “It doesn’t, Yamato! I’m trying to spare him useless pain, why would you even think-”
“Because you’re still grumbling about Hikari and Takeru dating even after seven years-”
“I don’t mind them dating,” Taichi starts, but this time it’s Yamato’s turn to interrupt with:
“You tried to convince her their flat was too big,” he says, voice rising in volume and decreasing sharply, probably when he remembers the time it is at his place.
“Well it is a little-”
“It’s twenty square meters!” Yamato hisses, pitch climbing up as he makes obvious efforts to stay quiet, “And it’s not like it’s a new problem either-you’ve never really been okay with any of us dating.”
“I congratulated Mimi and Koush-wait, has she picked her new name yet?”
She only came out as a transgender woman a couple months ago, and she’s been hesitating on a new name ever since-it makes sense she’d want to take her time about it, but sometimes Taichi can’t help feeling like it’s a bit of an awkward situation.
“Not yet,” Yamato says after a moment of reflexion, tone calmer for the interruption. “But even if we overlook the fact that you also congratulated them on their breakup after only three months, your main source of happiness back then was, and I quote, that they ‘kept it in the family’.”
Taichi has to wince at that, because this was really not his shiniest moment. Still, he thinks as he locks his flat behind him and bypasses the elevator in favor of the stairs, more conductive to an argument, Yamato is definitely giving the incident more weight than it deserves.
“Alright,” he admits with a sigh even as he switches the staircase lights on, “the phrasing was a bit creepy but-”
“It was downright gross,” Yamato interrupts, apparently determined not to let anything slide, “and not just because of the wording-you can’t just act like there’s no one else we can date than other chosen children!”
“Well it’s not like anyone else is going to get what it’s like!”
It’s been fourteen years since their first trip to the Digiworld, and Yamato may dislike it but the fact remains that, as experience has proved numerous times, even the other groups of chosen children can’t quite share the experience. Turns out US-comics were wrong: when the strange monsters tried to destroy the earth, it’s Japan that got the worst of it.
It’s nobody’s fault, really, and Taichi hasn’t resented the fate he got saddled with in years now, but the other teams, they had it easy. And even if they hadn’t-even with the non-negligible amount of crap that fell on their noses-they didn’t go through it the same way Taichi and his friends have, they don’t carry the scars the same way they do. They have different cultures and different roles and different expectations and that’s okay...it just means not even them understand what the experience was like for the Odaiba kids.
“Daisuke doesn’t care,” Yamato says, voice muffled by a rustle of fabric against the phone receiver.
He must be getting ready for the night.
“How would you know that,” Taichi asks even though it is, admittedly, not the kindest argument to pick, “you barely even talk to him!”
“His sister does,” Yamato replies without a pause, but his voice sounds tighter around the words, “and so does yours, and they both agree he didn’t even seem to realize there was a difference to be felt until you shoved it in his head.”
Taichi didn’t think people could really splutter indignantly, but what he’s doing right now really does sound like it. It’s entirely Yamato’s fault, though, because the nerve-the willful misinterpretation is just-how dare he! Yes, sure, most of them are dealing with it okay-they’ve got mostly normal lives if you except the occasional star-struck Digimon and a recent offer for a documentary about their adventures from a very reputable history channel...and yes, sure, they’ve all got twelve other Chosen children-plus their Digimon partners-to confide in and rely on, and that plays a lot.
It doesn’t erase everything though-Taichi has yet to hear about a group of friends who’s faced as many cases of depression, of nightmares, of random outbursts and awkward moments as theirs has, and Yamato of all people should know how hard it can be to go through this.
To mention that would be a low blow, though, and Taichi steers away from the argument, bringing up his other concern instead:
“You haven’t met the girl,” he says, “there’s something off about her!”
“Akiko’s biggest flaw is that she’s not one of the people we’ve been exclusively hanging out with since fifth grade,” Yamato snaps, “and you know it. Maybe I haven’t seen her, but I know she’s as much of a scatterbrained dork as Daisuke, which-”
“Now you’re making it sound like he’s stupid!” Taichi protests.
He hears Yamato stutter a bit-there’s echo in the background, almost drowned out by the sound of traffic on Taichi’s end of the line, but it does still sound like Yamato has retreated to the bathroom-before he recovers and hisses:
“He dropped out of school to open a noodle cart for fuck’s sake!”
“Which he’s paying his part of the rent with,” Taichi points out, “and it’ll cover the rest of his expenses too, so if you think he doesn’t deserve better than a simple waitress just because-”
Yamato swears on the other end of the phone, and Taichi does groan at that, temples beating with a headache even as he reaches his bus stop and glares at the street. Stupid Yamato, shoving his stupid face on the other side of the stupid world, like there aren’t any decent universities in Japan offering the stupid biology degree he decided to go for.
At least if he’d stayed, they could have this stupid argument face to face and settle it over a cup of tea or whatever.
“Do you even hear yourself talking?” Yamato asks when he’s done hissing invectives into the phone, “’he deserves better than a simple waitress’, seriously? Did we take a jump back to the eighteenth century I wasn’t aware of?”
“All I’m saying,” Taichi ties to say, only to be interrupted right away, real anger cracking through Yamato’s voice this time:
“All you’re saying is you’ll literally grasp at any reason Daisuke shouldn’t date Akiko, all because you can’t stand the idea of him leaving you behind like your sister did!”
“Hikari didn’t leave me behind,” Taichi protests, hand closing tighter against his phone, “she texts me almost as much as you do!”
“And yet,” Yamato retorts, sarcasm dripping from his voice thick enough Taichi can hear it over the bustle of commuters climbing on and exiting the bus, “you still act like she did, including with this.”
Yamato sighs, like he’s had this conversation far too often already-he hasn’t, Taichi would know-and insists:
“I know you don’t mean to hurt anyone, Taichi, but that’s what you’re going to do if you keep going that way.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Taichi says, annoyed enough by now that he barely notices the streets his bus is driving by, and nearly misses the stop for his university, “I’m not going to hurt him.”
On the other end of the line, Yamato’s snort-wrapped in the sound of running water, possibly because he’s run out of patience and decided to brush his teeth in the middle of a conversation like some kind of animal-is quite explicit as to how much he believes that. Taichi takes a deep breath and counts the steps from his bus stop to the university gates before he has a chance to explode.
There’s a bit of scratching, the sound of someone spitting, and Yamato sighs again:
“There’s only thirteen of us in Japan, remember? And none of the girls are available. That’s a pretty limited dating pool you’re building him.”
“Mimi and Miyako are into dudes,” Taichi points out, but even he can’t argue when Yamato scoffs.
“Mimi is even farther away from Japan than I am and she’s not the long-distance relationship type. And the very idea of Daisuke and Miyako in any kind of romantic relationship is just begging for disaster.”
“Okay,” Taichi admits, because he may be as stubborn as Yamato, but even he knows a losing battle when he sees one, “no girl available. But Daisuke is bisexual.”
“And who do you think is going to date him? You, Iori, or me? ”
“I don’t want to date Daisuke!” Taichi protests, ears warming up a tad too fast.
He’s not the last to call Daisuke easy on the eyes-to the guy’s face, even!-and he may or may not have toyed with the idea a little on one of the rare occasions he drank too much, but the truth of it is, aside from the rather obvious lack of romantic attraction there, that would make things even more awkward when well-meaning strangers mistake them for brothers.
Really, they’re better off as friends.
“Well,” Yamato deadpans, “then considering I’m not interested in dating him-”
“You’re not interested in dating, period,” Taichi replies, unable to hide the hint of triumph in his voice.
“It’s not about my issues, Taichi,” Yamato half-sighs, half-yawns as a door clicks shut in the background, “I’m not interested in anything remotely close to romantic with Daisuke, which leaves him with Iori, and I’m pretty sure his partners would murder Daisuke in less than a day.”
“Ken isn’t dating anyone.”
“I don’t think you’ll get our second token straight to date a guy.”
“We don’t know that he is,” Taichi protests, lowering his voice as he nears his classroom, fifteen minutes early, “he could still be in the closet.”
“We’ve hit every stripe on the rainbow-meter,” Yamato deadpans in a rustle of sheets, “either he’s straight or he’s clearly not ready for dating.” A yawn. “And even if I’m wrong, you can’t just play pair the spares with our friends.”
“They’re barely even your friends,” Taichi snaps.
It’s a low blow and he knows it-Yamato may not speak with Daisuke on a regular basis, but he’s already demonstrated he was willing to go the extra mile for the guy’s sake anyway. Out of all the chosen children Taichi knows of, Yamato is probably the one whose bond to the rest of their little community are the strongest-there’s a reason why the rallying point shifted from Taichi to him in later years, after all.
Yamato’s relationship to Daisuke is still nowhere close to what he and Taichi have, though, or even to what exists b etween Yamato and Jyou, or Koushiro, whatever name she might end up picking. Yamato is a devoted friend, and so is Daisuke-it’s just easy to see their circles aren’t exactly perfect matches.
“Fuck you,” Yamato replies, the gritting of his teeth almost audible even through the phone, “you don’t get to tell me I’m a bad friend when you’re the one about to send him head first into the fucking wall!”
“He and Ken like each other,” Taichi replies, ears burning at him without it being enough to stop him.
“So did Sora and I,” Yamato spits-this time Taichi forgets to keep an indoor voice when he protests:
“That was different!”
He wasn’t privy to the whole disaster- there are things about those five years of dating (and one year of post-breakup chilly awkwardness) not even Takeru knows about, both the former couple and their Digimons incredibly tight-lipped about the whole affair. Taichi stood by the two of them throughout it all though, left them in peace when they needed him to, yelled at them when they needed him to, and collected the freaking pieces when they needed him to.
He may not have seen the car crash, but he was there for the clean up and oh, boy, is he glad he had help with that, because he’d have ended up in the gutter right alongside them if the others hadn’t picked up the slack.
At some point it almost seemed like their group wouldn’t survive the shift.
“We liked each other,” Yamato repeats. “See how ridiculous you sound now?”
“Look, it sucked-big time,” Taichi agrees, because there was never any way to beat around that particular bush, “but Ken and Daisuke are older-they know what their sexualities are by now.”
“I didn’t at their age.”
Taichi swallows back another, more pointed low blow-he can still hear Yamato’s anger simmering under the thin layer of ice in his voice, and putting a spark to it now would really be asking for an explosion. Instead, he says:
“Hikari and Takeru are happy.”
“Exception that confirms the rule,” Yamato replies with a hint of dark humor, “the rest of our intra-dating attempts only ever ended up bitting us in the ass. I’m pretty sure we’ve all had enough of dating other Digisaviors for a lifetime, thank you very much.”
“Digisaviors?” Taichi repeats with a blink, “where the hell did you pick that?”
“That’s what they call us in France,” Yamato brushes off, “don’t try to drop the topic. I’m your friend, okay? And as a friend I’m telling you you’re about to fuck up big time and you need to stop.”
“And I am telling you, you’re wrong.”
There’s a break in the conversation while Gabumon’s sleepy voice whines in the distance-poor guy must have had a hard time staying asleep with Yamato talking almost nonstop for the last, what? Half hour? How is he even still awake anyway? Last Taichi checked, Yamato went out like a light at eight PM like the old man he’s always secretly been.
Taichi listens to his friend apologize to his partner in a more subdued voice-frowning when they switch to French for a couple of sentences before Yamato sighs-yawns again:
“You’re a brilliant politician,” he says, and Taichi’s chest warms at the words, even though he can’t quite manage a smile for it after such a long-winded argument, “but sometimes when it comes to our friends you’re so oblivious you make me want to slap you across the phone.”
“Well screw you too,” Taichi replies as the door opens up to let the previous class out, “I’ve got class. Bye.”
He hangs up before Yamato can say anything else, and spends the rest of the morning ignoring the weird mix of satisfaction and nausea hanging at the edge of his stomach.
{ooo}
Hikari and Takeru, when Taichi visits them for the first time, look nauseatingly domestic. It hasn’t even been three months since they moved in together-a fact which, Taichi might add, none of their parents were ecstatic about-but their cupboard of a studio looks homely and lived-in already. It’s tiny, sure, and the fold-up couch at the back looks enormous, cramped as it is between the tiniest of bathroom and a cooking area that barely deserves the name, but the kids move through it like they wouldn’t give up the occasional bump for all the space in the world.
Taichi kind of wants to gag, but that would be pushing it.
“I still think you’re too young,” he mutters around his cup of tea, and while Takeru stays silent-although close as he is, it’s impossible to mistake the way he stiffens at the words-Hikari doesn’t share the same restraints:
“If you start this conversation again,” she says with a daring look in her eyes, “I will kick you out.”
Taichi manages half of a placating gestu re with his right hand while the left keeps his mug close to his mouth, hiding his face from view. The words press at the edge of his lips, lemon-sour against his tongue, but even he can only have the same conversation so many times before he gives up, and he’s had the this one with Hikari often enough that he knows her arguments by heart now.
‘We haven’t been kids since 1999, haven’t been at peace for that long ever, haven’t got any reason to breakup, haven’t got any reason to wait’-Taichi has heard it all.
If he’s being very honest with himself-he doesn’t like to, where this topic is concerned-Taichi is also capable of admitting that all these ‘we haven’t’s come shadowed in a lot of ‘we have’s. ‘We’ve been supporting and helping and understanding each other since before we were ten,’ Hikari probably thinks, but never quite says, ‘we’ve been sent to war younger than anyone else, we have a right to enter peace early, too’.
Maybe they do.
It doesn’t mean Taichi has to approve.
“Fine,” he says anyway, because there’s a difference between disapproving his sister’s choice and actively antagonizing her over it, “so how do you guys keep this place clean? Did my sister move in with a neat freak?”
“Of all the possible subjects,” Hikari starts with a long-suffering sigh, but Takeru beats her to it:
“Sorry, wrong brother.”
“It’s a dual effort,” Hikari approves, tone still stiff, while her boyfriend throws Taichi a worried look.
Taichi’s lips lift at that, thin and short-lived. He hasn’t forgotten the way he argued with Yamato last week-hasn’t missed the absence of texts other than the automated ‘go eat something’ Yamato sends so Taichi won’t forget one too many meals in profit of his political sciences textbooks and drop dead in a pool of his own sweat.
(Yamato’s words, not Taichi’s.)
Despite it all though, it’s impossible not to remember how insanely ordered Yamato’s bedroom always seemed whenever Taichi visited the Ishida’s, before Yamato decided a year in Moscow to learn Russian wasn’t long or far enough away and picked a French university for his higher education.
“How do you keep things clean?” Hikari asks after a pause-Taichi may have gotten a little sidetracked there, because she’s gone from irritated to almost worried in record time.
“Dual effort,” Taichi replies, deliberately paraphrasing her, although it sounds more flat than teasing, even to his own ears. “We clean up after ourselves in the common areas and we deal with our own rooms. Why, how many centimeters of filth did you think I lived in?”
Hikari’s fingers twitch, same as they do whenever their parents get a little too overbearing during their weekly phone calls, and Taichi almost takes offense at that-he’s ready to admit he didn’t start his visit in the best way, but there’s nothing to be annoyed about in what he just said, honestly!
“We’re just a little worried,” Takeru says in a soothing tone, one hand landing on Hikari’s shoulder all casual like, as if Taichi weren’t going to notice the way his thumb rubs circles over her jumper, “you’ve seemed a little down since we moved in here and-”
“It’s the end of November,” Taichi points out with a roll of his eyes before Takeru can finish his sentence, “I’ve got a ton of exams coming up. Of course I’m tired.”
He doesn’t miss the glance floating between Takeru and Hika ri-doesn’t miss the little twist of Takeru’s lips like he’s seeing something he was bracing himself for-and he’s a little more forceful than he should be when he sets his cup down on the tiny coffee table:
“You know I can take care of myself, right? I’ve got the rent covered-”
“It’s not the rent I’m wo-”
“I know how to operate a washing machine and a vacuum cleaner, I can even cook, contrary to what your brother likes to pretend!”
“Hey, let’s not get Yamato involved,” Takeru says, raising his hands in defense, but Taichi’s annoyance is loose now, and he doesn’t really try to restrain himself when he says:
“Don’t worry, he doesn’t need me to involve him in pretty much every aspects of my life, he does that perfectly well on his own!”
Both Hikari and Takeru’s eyes widen at his words, and Taichi has to make a conscious effort to stay seated, breathe in deep and swallow some of his anger down. They’re trying to look out for him, he reminds himself. Sure, they’re insulting him-and possibly Daisuke, a little-when they act like he’s going to crash and burn now his little sister has left him behind, despite the presence of a roommate who proved a perfectly sensible leader and friend in difficult time.
Still, their hearts are in the right place, and Taichi clings to that for as long as it takes to calm himself down-at least until he’s reasonably sure he won’t let his words say imply things he doesn’t really mean.
“Look,” he manages after a while-the others, he notes, have waited him out, like defusing a bomb, and the thought makes him clench his fists together-“Daisuke and I may not be in the same state of domestic bliss as you, but that doesn’t mean we’re headed for disaster either, thank you very much.”
They share a look again-full of things they’ve already discussed to hell and back, Taichi bets, full of things they don’t want him to hear although, judging by the way they look at him afterwards, he might be concerned anyway.
“Okay,” Hikari says at last, articulation as careful as the hand she extends to touch Taichi’s knuckles with, “it’s just that I’ve-I’m a little concerned about that thing with the waitress-”
“Oh my-” Taichi cuts himself off to brush a hand over his face, “let me guess, Yamato called you?”
“I learned it from Daisuke,” Hikari replies, eyebrows drawing together, “I didn’t know Yamato knew you were involved.”
“When does he not know a thing about me?” Taichi scoffs, “Whatever I don’t tell him he can learn from any of us-even my own sister, apparently!”
“First of all,” Hikari counters, visibly refusing to back down, “I’ve already said I didn’t tell him about what you did. And secondly, can you really blame us? He’s the one who gets the best results when it comes to getting through to you!”
“He’s on the other side of the freaking world,” Taichi snaps at her, getting on his feet, “you guys need to stop pretending like he can control my life from there.”
“Nobody thinks that!” Takeru yelps, indignation written all over his features,but Taichi doesn’t believe him.
People running to Yamato as soon as they have a problem with Taichi-or what he’s doing, or how he’s living, apparently-is nothing new, of course, but for the love of everything, the guy left Japan over eight years ago, it’s time everyone started getting with the program!
“Look,” Taichi says, kind of proud of how he manages to keep his voice level despite the abrupt urge to yell until everyone leaves him alone, “I’ve got Agumon and Daisuke, I’m doing fine, and I don’t need Yamato to chaperon me, thank you very much.”
He gets to his feet after that, gathers his things and leaves before Hikari or Takeru can protest-before one of them can say something that will be blown out of proportion and they have a real argument.
Then he goes home, settles into some old comedy reruns with Agumon by his side and some leftover pizza in his plate, and waits until Daisuke comes home so he can investigates the guy’s feeling for Ken a little more thoroughly and finally clear the day’s frustrations and contrarieties out of his mind.
{ooo}
For a few days, Taichi worries Hikari’s intervention-and the text-based mutual apology they engage in the day after-means she’ll try to get more involved in his life again. Part of him wouldn’t mind, but she is his little sister: he’s the one that should take care of her, not the reverse. Much like the rest of their group, though, Hikari is simply too busy to make time for anything that isn’t her immediate life.
Taichi himself barely even leaves his flat unless he’s got classes or he needs to attend a work meeting in person which, given most of his meetings involve Digimon-and therefore a webcam or two-is getting fairly rare. The end result is that he shares his time between studying, trying to convince his country’s government to officially condemn the USA’s decision to maintain Digimons’ legal status as pets, and the blissful, mind-numbing relief of bad comedy and not wearing that isn’t at least at pajamas-levels of comfort.
He gets a couple of texts from Sora invit ing him over to Kyoto-refuses, too tired to bother with the effort after so much mental exhaustion-and a long email from Kou’ he has yet to answer-he w ants to, he does, but it’s kind of ha rd writing something long when the only thing you have time for in your life is work, work, work, and some bits of university crammed in there. Taichi can barely make time for Agumon these days, he can’t be blamed for not joining the others on their outings, collective or not!
The only positive effect of this, really, is that studying until the small hours of night means more chances of catching Yamato in the middle of his day, which means they end up texting even more than they did before their fight, saving Taichi’s social life from being entirely limited to his own flat.
Ken’s visit are a good thing, too, but for different reasons.
He’s constantly around these days. He pretends he’s there to see Taichi, which is a little ridiculous-then again, maybe Yamato’s theory has merit and the kid isn’t quite ready to put himself out there-but he’s always willing to talk about Daisuke-or Veemon, or the things he and Wormon do with the other two-whenever Taichi steers the conversation in that direction.
It’s adorable in how oblivious Ken thinks Taichi is, and kind of refreshing in the innocence of the scheme, although Taichi sometimes wants to tell Ken being more forward, or at least talking to Daisuke, would be more efficient.
Either way, though, his matchmaking projects are looking quite auspicious, and while he tries to keep them to himself so he c an av oid Yamato’s disbelieving sarcasm and reproaches, Taichi can’t help but feel very satisfied by his good work.