Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Distortion ❯ Surely You Must Know Everything? ( Chapter 5 )

[^^ Here I am again!! I've been getting some really good ideas for this story lately (though I forget a lot of them)... I think it's mostly watching Lain too much. ^^;;; o.o OOHH!!!!! EVO!!!!! ::dances around:: EVO!!!! EVO!!!! EVO!!!!!! I LOVE EVO!!!! ::stops:: ^^;;; Uh. Sorry about that... ::mutters:: Note to self: don't listen to music so much when writing. ^_^ ANYWAY. ^^;; This chapter is when the titular "distorting" begins... kind of... I swear, I CANNOT write anything that has nothing psychological in it... -___- This is probably a bad thing... ^^;; ANYWAY. READ, FOOLISH MORTALS!!! ^^]

Surely you must know everything?

"Did you ever wish you were something else, Hikari-san?"

Hikari looked up from her reading, and raised her eyebrows. "Something else?"

Iori nodded slowly. He was on his back on the floor, staring at the ceiling. "Yeah... not just someone else, but something else altogether." He hesitated. "Like... I don't know..."

Hikari laughed. "Like a Digimon?"

Iori smiled, despite himself. "Yeah. That's a good example."

It was about a week later. Iori hadn't had a chance to talk to Yasuhiko since their "talk" outside of the school. It was almost as if the other boy was avoiding him... but that didn't make sense; Iori was the one that had asked the stupid, stupid question. The rest of the school seemed not to know about it, though; even they seemed to be doing him a favor by ignoring him. School had been actually bearable for the last week - though Iori had an odd feeling it wouldn't last.

He was at Hikari's again. Her parents, apparently, were off on their second honeymoon, leaving her all by herself. He had taken it upon himself to keep her company, understanding how she must feel, being alone all the time. His own mother, wrapped up in her exams, hardly noticed him anymore, and his grandfather, though the old man tried to hide it whenever Iori was around, was getting older, that much was apparent. He preferred to be left alone these days, Iori could tell, though his grandfather had never actually said anything to him about it.

Now Hikari frowned, and bit her lip. "Hmm... I'm not sure. I don't think I ever have... not that I can remember, anyway." She looked at Iori curiously. "Why, do you wish you were something else?"

"Not exactly." He acquired a vague, faraway look, as if he were looking at something she couldn't see. "I was just wondering... if what you were, not who you were, depended on how you saw things."

Hikari blinked, surprised. "Well... I guess it's both, for a human being." She shut her book shut with a snap. "Where are you getting this stuff, Iori-kun?"

Iori shrugged. "I don't know... I guess I just have too much time to think." He got up. "I'll go now... thanks for having me over, Hikari-san. I'll see you later." He left.

Hikari stared after him, a confused look on her face. "Wha..." She shook her head, and chewed on a lock of hair that had strayed into her mouth. That boy is so strange...

~

"You're awfully quiet, Takeru."

Takeru shrugged, and changed the channel. "I'm thinking."

Daisuke gasped, and stared at him in awe. "Really? What does it feel like?"

Takeru rolled his eyes and shoved his friend off the couch. Daisuke landed on his back, legs still on the seat. "Ow." He grinned at Takeru and sat up, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "So... tell me what you're thinking about?"

Takeru scowled at him. "I'm not telling YOU."

Daisuke snickered. "Why? Something PRIVATE?"

Takeru stared at him, and rolled his eyes. "Oh, PLEASE." He sighed. "I'm actually thinking about Iori..."

Daisuke's face darkened. "Stupid kid. He should have told us... or ME, at least; I teach those stupid bullies a lesson..."

"That's why he didn't," Takeru said simply. "You know how he is, Daisuke; he doesn't like to bother us about anything if he thinks he can handle it himself."

"He thinks," Daisuke muttered. "He must feel we don't care, or something... or can't be bothered..." He looked up at Takeru pleadingly. "PLEASE, Takeru, can't we go talk to him about it? It's going to drive me crazy... and we don't see him enough as it is..."

"Why 'we'?" Takeru said scornfully, glaring down at his friend. "You can do it yourself, can't you?"

Daisuke shifted uneasily. "I guess... but I would feel weird about it; I don't know him as well as you do."

Takeru raised his eyebrows. "You've known him for five years and you'd still feel weird about talking to him alone?"

Daisuke glared at him. "Well... yeah! How would YOU feel if you had to talk to Ken without me going with you?"

Takeru winced. "Okay, that would be awkward... but it's different!"

"It's not!"

"It is. Ken and Iori are two different people."

"No, they're not." Daisuke pulled himself back up onto the couch to sit beside Takeru. "They're horrifically, painfully alike."

Takeru glared at him. "How?"

"They both have the self-esteem of a soap dish. And absolutely no sense of humor."

Takeru frowned. "Yeah... but..."

Daisuke laughed. "You hate being wrong, don't you?"

Takeru plucked his goggles from his head. "Oh, shut up."

"HEY!!" Daisuke attacked his friend. "GIVE 'EM BACK!!!!"

"I would, if you wo- OW!!!!! DAISUKE, YOUR ELBOW'S IN MY EYE!!!!"

"GIVE 'EM BACK!!!!"

~

"Iori?"

Iori, slumped over on the desk in his room, lifted his head slightly and called, "Yes?"

The door slid open, and his grandfather stuck his head in. "Are you all right? You've been awfully quiet for a while."

Iori didn't look at him. He knew what he would see: the tired, lined face; the trembling limbs the old man tried to hide. "I'm fine, ojiisan. I'm just..." What was he doing? Even he didn't know anymore. "I'm just thinking."

"I'm sorry your mother hasn't been speaking with you much," his grandfather said apologetically. "But she has her tests, you know."

"I know. I understand, ojiisan; you don't have to tell me."

"All right." There was silence for a while, and Iori thought that his grandfather had gone, but then the voice sounded again: "We'll have to find you a new kendo teacher soon... I've taught you everything I know."

"... All right." Dammit, why can't I just say 'no'? I don't want to be taught by anyone but him. He's the only teacher I've ever known. "But... it seems I still have a lot to learn... surely you must know everything?"

The old man was silent for a moment, then said, in a quiet voice, "No. I don't know everything." There was a small click from the door behind him, and Iori knew, this time, that he was all alone again.

He slumped back over the desk, hiding his head in his arms.

"All of this," he murmured, "leads back to him. Somehow." He sighed heavily, and traced the name on his desk with a finger, making up his mind.

"Nakamura-san..."

I'll talk to you tomorrow.