Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Matter of Perspective ❯ Yamato ( Chapter 13 )

DISCLAIMER: Digimon Adventure 02 does not belong to me. Instead, it belongs to the nice people at Toei Animation. American licensing goes to Bandai and Saban. My day would be made if Saban just subtitled the damn series and released it on DVD like they have the right to. Until that happens or people decide that fansubbing is still okay under these circumstances, I'll prefer the raw even if I don't always know exactly what they're saying to each other.

A/N: Is Yamato just full of angst in this fic, or am I imagining things? More not-quite-taito interaction -- and this installment finally breaches the boundary between the PG-13 rating and the R rating. Thank you, Yamato. Well, so long as FF.Net doesn't suddenly decide that restricted material is also the unholy spawn of Satan, I'm still okay. Even if only on a technicality. We've finally reached the turning point here, too. The next part is going to start really ripping into sorato instead of just chipping away at it. Daiken fans should be made aware that part fourteen is going to be in Ken's POV.

The park was mostly empty. Probably this had something to do with the hour and the grey, overcast sky. Monday afternoons when the wind bit at your face and the clouds threatened to rain were meant for staying indoors with hot tea and a good book. At least, that was what Yamato did with them. Maybe other people enjoyed sitting on rusty swings and kicking fallen leaves while the cold autumn air slowly numbed their senses. You could never tell with other people.

Not that she really had any business calling someone else weird.

She. Yamato smirked humorlessly. Such a difficult change to accept in the beginning, but now...did it even matter anymore whether or not Koushirou found a way to reverse this process? She would never be a man again, not like before. As if things could simply go back to normal now that her father had seen her like this. Now that Sora knew how weak she really was. There would always be some faint residue, lingering in her own mind if nowhere else. Like Taichi's firm kiss still stung her lips.

Shut the eyes, blot it out. That thought didn't belong here. She was waiting for her girlfriend -- waiting for Sora. Tennis practice would be over soon enough. They had a date afterwards to see some new romance movie that all the critics loved. Hopefully, that would get her mind off everything.

And she could almost hear Taichi's laughing retort. "A blonde with an actual mind?!" he'd gasp. "Quick, phone the newspapers! They'll want to hear about this!"

How could she miss him already? The way he was fast enough to avoid her fists effortlessly but let her beat up on him if he thought he'd done something to deserve it. The way he sometimes did the stupidest things just to make her laugh after a bad day. And, according to Sora, that Christmas Eve when he had encouraged her to ask out the boy she loved even though he wanted her to ask him out instead. Taichi was such a fucking wonderful person, a better man than she had ever been or would ever be, and so of course she'd ruined their friendship. When friendship was supposed to mean more to her than anything else in the world.

Stupid female body. She should have expected it; controlled it. After all, she knew Taichi was a good-looking guy. Plenty of the girls at school had crushes on him, and he wasn't even trying. Had she really thought she could look like a girl and dress like a girl without ever actually being a girl? Yes, she'd been a fool. She'd let her guard down. Treating her own body like some kind of disconnected outer shell, she had stupidly let him get close enough to touch. Close enough to taste. Hell, let nothing. Yamato had all but forced that intimacy.

Even then, when she suddenly couldn't breathe under his warm hands, the full reality only began to dawn. She knew that something strange was happening in her stomach, a nervous and almost queasy sensation, but she didn't recognize this for what it was. Not until her father was driving her home and she crossed her legs uncomfortably. In spite of her many fans, Yamato had never really gotten that far with a girl. But she had listened to enough stories in the locker rooms to understand why her panties were damp.

Shut the eyes, blot it out. That was why she had avoided Taichi in school. Their paths didn't cross very often because they had gotten sorted into different classes at the beginning of the year, but he had tried to approach her a couple of different times between periods. Only gym had presented any real problem, and sheer dumb luck prevented that confrontation. Taichi's soccer coach decided the team should get in some extra field time before the big game next week, so they all went outside first thing and still hadn't returned by the time the normal gym teacher dismissed class. She knew Taichi just wanted to talk, sort things out, but how were they supposed to talk when she couldn't even look him in the eye?

When the rest of the band went home early and she stepped out into the empty hallway, Yamato had of course felt tremendously relieved, but...some part of her was disappointed, too. However much she had dreaded the conversation, getting it over with might have been nice. Besides, she hadn't even mentioned this to Sora -- and she wanted so desperately for someone to understand why it had happened. Taichi wouldn't blame her, because his body must have played the same trick on him. Her lips quirked a little; she could tease him about still being irresistible even as a girl, and make him laugh for once...

Before she knew what she was doing, Yamato had already dialed half his phone number. If she just kept going, they would be friends again. Why was she hesitating? What did she have to lose that mattered more than one of the most important people in her life? She knew she could live without pride.

But this wasn't about pride, was it?

The cell phone beeped once to remind her that she hadn't completed her call, and she flicked her thumb across the 'off' button. She needed more time. She could stand being the first to apologize, and she could handle it if Taichi made fun of her for changing her mind. She could deal with everything except for what might happen if she lost control again. Because Yamato was through making assumptions. All her teachers called attraction a chemical process, and now that she had different chemistry -- but what was Taichi supposed to think if she kept kissing him? Friends didn't suck on each other's tongues, and he wouldn't want to deal with that. It would be over anyway, sooner or later.

Yamato put her head between her hands and squeezed until the tears came out. They froze halfway down her face. She didn't know what to do. Somewhere in the background, she could still hear the uneven slap of tennis racquet on tennis ball -- she might watch the game if she looked up. Except that even Sora's important matches hadn't really held her attention, and this was just practice. It would never provide enough of a distraction. Maybe after Sora finished, she would help...but no, you couldn't be expected to fix a problem until you knew what that problem was. If she lived to be a hundred, Yamato would never breathe a word of this to Sora. She had to deal with it on her own.

"Yama?"

That same voice. She raised her head incredulously, and he hunkered down so that he was sitting on his heels. Taichi rubbed his thumb gingerly over her cheeks, brushing the icy tracks of her tears away.

"It is you," he said quietly. "I should've known. Who else would sit in a park on a day like this without even bringing a coat?"

He hadn't removed his hand, so she did it for him. The tenderness still cut too deeply. "Yeah. I'm dumb like that."

"Cold?"

Given that she could no longer feel her fingers, Yamato wasn't sure. She tried to say as much, and suddenly he was wrapping his own thick coat tightly around her shoulders. Objecting didn't do her much good, but then it never had. When Taichi set his heart on giving something to you, nothing changed his mind.

"Thanks," she mumbled. Sucked in a harsh breath. "We should talk."

"What changed your mind?" Taichi replied sardonically.

The question had just enough of a bite that she ducked her head again. "Nothing. I...I guess I just...I don't know. I needed space. It's kind of a lot to deal with, isn't it?"

"Is it?" His voice sounded funny. Strained, maybe.

Part of Yamato really wanted to know what that tone meant before she continued. Maybe he wasn't ready to go here. Maybe he would have rather pretended it hadn't happened. She could sympathize. But then what had he intended to talk about at school?

"I didn't want to kiss you, Taichi." The words tumbled out of her mouth all at once, and then she couldn't take them back.

Sharp, noisy intake of breath. A funny-sounding, possibly strained exhalation. "Oh. Okay."

This would be the toughest part of the conversation. He was going to ask her why she had kissed him if it wasn't because she wanted to, and the truth sounded stupid but she couldn't think of any believable lies. So Yamato schooled her features into what she hoped was a nonchalant expression. Oh, yes. This sort of thing happened all the time. Losing control of your body was all the rage in America, Mimi had told her. Didn't Taichi care about staying on top of international fashion? Tense and struggling against panic, she waited for him to ask.

"I like the hairclip," he said. "Where'd you get it?"

Stunned, she reached up with one hand to touch her hair. Her fingers brushed against cold metal. At first, Yamato couldn't remember how it had gotten there. Why had he changed the subject? She blinked a few times in rapid succession and tried to clear her mind. "I think Sora gave it to me this morning."

"You think?" Taichi repeated.

"Well..." Now she felt self-conscious. "I wasn't really paying attention. I mean, not that I didn't appreciate her coming over to help me get ready, but you know." Self-conscious and idiotic. "I wasn't paying attention to much of anything. You really messed me up, Taichi."

Hardly what she had planned to say. Taichi flashed an awkward smile and found something fascinating to stare at on the ground. Dry leaves crackled under his shifting feet. Far from where they regarded each other wordlessly, the unsteady slapping ceased. With that sound gone, the whole world might as well have been completely silent.

"This was a mistake," Taichi muttered. Already starting to walk away. "I'm sorry, Yamato. I should've just let you come to me when you were ready. I can tell you need more time, so I'll just --"

She made a wild grab for his hand but he was already out of range, so she leapt off the swing and ran after him. After spending so much time wondering if she even wanted to deal with this, Yamato was surprised by her own instinctive reaction. She couldn't just let him leave thinking she hated him. "Taichi, please don't go."

When he turned around, his lips were twisted unpleasantly. "Why, do you have that routine copyrighted?"

"Taichi..." she whispered. "I'm trying to talk to you."

Laughter. "Are you really? Well, give me one good reason not to ignore that like you've ignored me all day."

Yamato closed her eyes. She felt the tears again and fought them. Girls were so fucking emotional. "Because I miss you."

His face went slack. "Damn. I was looking forward to storming off all pissy. You make it seem like so much fun."

The tension evaporated. She hadn't laughed like this all day. Relief mingled comfortably with insult in the way that it only ever did with Taichi. Oh, Sora was unbelievably sweet and the other band members knew her better than anyone else, but they weren't a patch on her best and oldest friend. Even a day without him -- god, when had she gotten so dependent on people?

"Storming off isn't all it's cracked up to be," she told him truthfully.

"No?"

"No." She smiled, and felt it quiver. There was still more for her to say. "If I apologize for running away like a coward...for not letting you talk to me when you tried...and for ever kissing you in the first place," something made her voice break, "will you accept it?"

Taichi actually winked at her. "You don't have to apologize for kissing me, Yama. What kinda guy would I be if I didn't enjoy making out with a pretty girl?"

Two thoughts formed almost simultaneously: He thinks I'm pretty? and then, No, moron. He's joking, so try to pretend you got it the first time around. Besides, Mavi had thought she was pretty, too, so what did it matter?

"Well," she finally managed to retort, "I hope you savored it, because you aren't getting anything else from me."

Every last shred of visible emotion simply vanished from Taichi's face. The emptiness in his eyes frightened her for a moment. She had done it again, pushed him too far and gone somewhere he didn't want to go. What if he decided to leave again? What if -- but before she could even finish that thought, he had already recovered. It happened much too quickly. She was going to have to avoid any more verbal games.

"Yeah, well. Weren't you gonna apologize?" Taichi prompted.

"What? Oh! Oh, yes," she said, and immediately realized what a stupid way that was to respond. She closed her eyes and forced herself to keep going. "I was going to say that I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you, Taichi. Hell, I didn't mean to do anything. When Dad knocked...I just panicked. And I never thought about your feelings. I was too focused on not letting Sora know and trying to figure out -- you know, why."

"Yeah?" He almost looked bored. "What did you come up with?"

This was not even slightly the way she'd imagined it. Sighing, Yamato opened her eyes again and strived to keep her voice level. "Never mind. I guess that's not important anyway. Are we...I mean, are we sill friends?"

"I don't know, Yamato."

Why hadn't he just slapped her in the face?

"You're not going to make this any easier on me, are you?" she asked, sounding desolate even to her own ears.

"Hey, you're the one who needed time to think. And I've already had to deal with Takeru jumping down my throat like I did something wrong."

No wonder he was so upset. She started to say one thing, but then frowned and said something else instead. "Wait, I never told Takeru."

"No," Taichi admitted, "but I told Hikari. You know how that goes."

"Yeah. I guess I do." Anger surfaced, but it couldn't hope to compete with all the other emotions already at war inside of her. "That's how you knew I'd be here, isn't it? Your sister and my brother wanted us to talk."

"Maybe."

"Taichi!" Yamato dug her fingers into the front of his shirt and pulled him forward. She wanted to scream and she wanted to cry. More than anything, she wanted to kiss him. Shut the eyes, blot it out. "I said I was sorry. Please. What else do you want from me?"

"I want you to be comfortable," he said. So gently.

She heard the words, but they didn't make sense. "What? That's it?"

"Well," Taichi drawled sarcastically, "yes, my own private island and a harem of gorgeous celebrities if you've got them, but I thought you meant realistically. C'mon, Yama, don't look so surprised." He put his hands in his pockets and actually seemed almost insecure for an instant. "You think I don't know how awkward you feel about everything? This is like watching someone tiptoe around a freaking glass statue. I don't want you to treat me like that. So. We're friends, if you can promise you'll try to relax."

Under any other circumstances, Yamato would have hesitated. She took promises very seriously, and she always thought them over carefully to make sure she wouldn't have to go back on her word. This time, Taichi barely got to finish his sentence before she agreed. It undoubtedly came as a bit of a shock, but just then? She could not have cared less. She had her best friend back.

"Yamato-kun? Taichi? What are you doing here?"

That, of course, would be Sora. Standing by the jungle gym in her school uniform, racquet and duffle bag slung over one shoulder, and looking pleased but confused. Yamato hastily retraced the last few sentences of her conversation with Taichi. Had either of them said anything that sounded weird out of context?

"Oh, we were just waiting for you," Taichi lied easily. At least, she assumed he was lying. "I like your hairclip, by the way."

"What hairclip?" Blankly, Sora reached up to feel her hair exactly as Yamato had caught herself doing earlier. "I'm not wearing a...oh! You mean the one I loaned Yamato-kun? It's actually my mother's. Some sort of family heirloom. Um, I sort of grabbed it by mistake this morning. Mom would probably go ballistic if she knew I'd let that boy wear something so expensive out of the house."

"Expensive?" The idea was sort of unnerving. Especially when she was giving Sora's mother yet another good reason to hate her.

Her girlfriend laughed. "Fourteen karat white gold studded with tiny diamonds and wrapped around a genuine black pearl? Yamato-kun, you've got about six hundred dollars in your hair."

Forget unnerving. Yamato felt her legs giving way, and she yelped. It was hard to be too worried, though. She had two wonderful people waiting to catch her if she fell.

End of Part Thirteen.